#i feel like everyone around me was given some kind of how to manual on life that i wasn't

[sunlightmurdock]

Our Final Night Alive | Jake Seresin x virgin Reader (18+)

Synopsis: Reader is having a really hard time the night before a particularly scary mission, Jake shows his true colours and stands by her side.

Warnings: smut, angst, themes of loss / grief and fear

Please DNI if you’re a minor!!

…

“You’re gonna have to write me some kind of manual,” Jake muses as he puts an olive between his teeth and bites down on it. You raise an eyebrow at him, waiting for the explanation that will inevitably accompany this request. “On abstinence, I mean. I have no idea how you do it.”

You roll your eyes and look back down at your drink, stirring it with your straw. You rarely dignify Jake’s allusions to your sex-life (or lack of) with a response.

It’s the night before deployment. He should be with the others, drinking and revelling in their last moments of guaranteed safety. You should be with them too. They’re gathered around the piano, singing melancholy lyrics to an upbeat tune. But, Jake’s here with you, in a booth at the back of the Hard Deck.

You’ve always struggled with the night before deployment. Maybe it’s the distance — deep down you know that it’s the not knowing. Even if you knew that this deployment would be your last, you just would rather know. It’s the fear of not coming home, or of coming home without the people you’re closest to in the world.

This mission isn’t simple. It’s going to be a miracle if everyone makes it back alive. It’s practically a suicide mission. And you’re team leader.

You turn your head to look at them all. Rooster’s cheeks are flushed warm and red, he’s grinning as Javy drums on the top of the piano. They’re all singing, but Fanboy is laughing so hard he can barely get the words out. Something that Bob had whispered to him moments earlier that he just can’t get over.

It feels like you’re watching them in slow motion. Just looking them over, seeing the flush of life — of joy — in their faces.

The thought of having to explain to one of their families why their loved one isn’t here anymore makes you feel sick.

“Come on, you’re not gonna bite?” Jake teases, drawing you back to reality. You turn your head back toward him. “You always bite when I joke about your virtue.”

You pick up one of the olives and throw it at his face, your lips quirking slightly as it bounces off of his cheek and rolls onto the floor.

Jake grins at the small but certain success of finally getting you to smile. Even if it’s at his expense.

The relationship you have with Hangman is complicated. It started off as hatred. You hated his stupid Ken-doll looks, his smug remarks and his reckless abandon when flying. Then it became rivalry. All about being the best. The best at flying, at schmoozing Admirals, about your planes being up to standard.

Somewhere in between, it had almost become a friendship.

You still don’t quite get him. You don’t always get his need to make a joke of things. He doesn’t always get your need to worry. There are days when Maverick would just want to knock your heads together to get you to quit bickering. And then there are days that the two of you were as thick as thieves.

That is, when he isn’t joking about your ‘virtue’, for lack of a better word. Three months ago, thanks to a slip up from your high school best friend when she was in town, Jake had discovered that you hadn’t yet had sex. Since then, he had used every given opportunity to bring it up in some way or another. He was perplexed by it.

You understood the confusion. You were an adult. A pilot. You had a successful career and a pretty face. Jake had been guessing at why exactly you hadn’t had sex — but he had been miles from the truth with each guess he had made.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t had ample opportunity through your life. There had been plenty of men who would have been more than happy to become a notch in your unscathed bedpost. But it just wasn’t that simple.

“Really though, I’m about to spend the next week sleeping in a bunk below Rooster,” Hangman took a sip of his beer and looked past you at the piano, shaking his head disapprovingly, yet smiling. “Don’t exactly want to wake up hard and the first thing I see is that fucking moustache. Y’know?”

You smile slightly as you take a long drink. Jake always has such a way with words. Your thought makes you laugh slightly. Jake’s smile widens, he thinks he’s cheered you up a little.

“So, what do you do? — to stop yourself from thinking about sex?”

“Can’t miss something you haven’t had.” You answer him simply, smiling as he rolls his eyes at you. He looks particularly perfect tonight, annoyingly. The night before deployment, everyone’s in their dress whites. You know Jake secretly loves wearing them. Why wouldn’t he? — He looks like he was born to be in them.

“C’mon, I know you get horny like the rest of us.” Jake squints his eyes at you, gauging your reaction for any hint of agreement.

“Sure, sometimes.” You watch his eyes light up. He’s right. You’ve just admitted he’s right, maybe for the first time ever. It makes you laugh, the excitement on his face.

“I was starting to think you’d never admit it.” He grins. “So, bestow your wisdom upon me, Ace.”

You shake your head at him and take another drink, “No wisdom. Just more self-control than you have, I guess.” Jake chuckles against the rim of his beer bottle.

You turn your head as something smashes across the bar. Just a drunk patron knocking a glass off of a table. But then something else catches your eye. Maverick and Penny standing together outside. They’re staring at the waves, her hand gripping his tightly.

You watch them just standing together.

You don’t even notice Jake following your gaze, once he realises that you aren’t listening to a word he is saying. His brows scrunch slightly as he looks them over, then looks back to you. It’s been years now, and he still doesn’t have you figured out.

Each time he thinks he’s getting close, something else comes up, always keeping him an arms length from really knowing you.

“Ace?” You barely hear him. It’s like you’re dreaming and he’s trying to wake you up. Mav and Penny aren’t even doing anything, they’re just standing together, but you can’t make yourself look away. “Ace? — You okay?”

His fingers curl around yours, startling you. You look back to him and let out a breath. He’s concerned, features hardened as he looks at you, waiting for some kind of answer.

It’s then that you notice the tears that have brimmed in your eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” His voice is soft as he squeezes your hand in his. Your brows furrow slightly as you quickly wipe the tears from your eyes. You know you must look ridiculous if he’s worried for you and not making jokes.

You shake your head quickly and sniffle, “It’s just been a long day. I think I’m gonna go home, get some rest.”

Jake’s lips part, brows knotting even further in confusion as you begin to slide out of the booth.

“Wha — wait, Ace, what the fuck?”

You hear him behind you but the pounding in your chest keeps you moving. You leave out of the side entrance, not wanting to interrupt Mav and Penny on the beach. The door takes a few extra seconds to slam after you’re out of it, confirming that Jake is still following you. You curse under your breath.

“Will you wait up?” He calls to you.

You make it to your car before you realise that your keys are still inside, along with your bag.

“Fuck!” You kick the tyre. Jake reaches you and puts his hand on your shoulder, turning you to look at him, baffled at your behaviour.

“D’you want to tell me what’s going on?” He breathes, shaking his head slightly as he looks you over. You shake him off of you and kick the car door,

“I left my fucking keys inside.”

Jake knows how much you love that car. You once threatened to shave his head for hitting it with his duffel bag on accident when you had picked him up for the airport. Yet, here you are leaving a mark in its pristine white paint job with the bottom of your shoe.

You turn and look back towards the bar. At your friends. You can’t bare to go back in there and be amongst all those smiling faces. Jake looks between your and the Hard Deck, still completely lost.

“Well, alright — stay here, okay? — I’m gonna be right back.” Jake starts towards the door you had both just exited through, “Don’t move.”

You fall back against the car, trying to regulate your breathing as Jake takes off inside. He’s only gone for a few seconds. As he returns, he sees you staring at the stars. There are tears rolling silently down your cheeks.

He stops in the doorway and observes. Jake has seen you take bird strikes, upwards of 7G’s and even a fractured eye socket without so much as a whimper. He’s never seen you cry before.

You hear his shoes on the ground and try to compose yourself. He’s standing beside you by the time you’re wiping the tears from your cheeks, taking in shaking breaths.

“Look, Ace,” He’s not looking at you. He’s staring down at the ground between your shoes. You appreciate that. “Why don’t you let me drive you home? — I’ve had like half a beer, I’m happy to do it.”

Just that afternoon, you had threatened to break Hangman’s hand if he considered touching the wheel of this car. Yet, you nod now. You let him open the passenger side and you let him take the driver’s seat.

In another circumstances, Jake would’ve been grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He has been bugging you to let him take this thing for a spin since you had got it. A pristine condition white 1962 Corvette convertible. Now, he admires it silently as he takes the wheel.

You turn the radio on, just so that he doesn’t have to listen to the sound of you sniffling as he drives you back to your place. You’re pissed that you’re in such a mess in front of Hangman, of all people. Something in his demeanour tells you that he won’t tell anyone about this, though.

As he pulls up outside of your apartment, it’s clear that there’s no doubt in his mind that he’s coming inside. You resent it slightly as the two of you walk up to your front door — the fact that he feels that you shouldn’t be alone.

“Look, I’m just probably gonna,” You pause and sniffle as Jake turns the key in the front door, “Just gonna take a shower and head to bed.”

Jake nods, then opens the door for you, “Alright. Well, I’m gonna hang out in the living room for a bit… if you wanted to talk or anything.”

You don’t argue, leaving him to it as you brush past him and walk straight to the bathroom. Jake’s brows furrow slightly as he watches the enigma that is his co-worker head down the hall.

He shuts the door behind him, locks up. He grabs himself a beer from the fridge, figuring he’s probably going to spend the night on your couch. He settles in, kicking his feet up on the coffee table in your absence, watching Ice Road Truckers.

He listens to the water turn on three minutes into his first episode. Makes sense, you had to get completely out of your dress whites and also out of that slicked back, Navy-Mandated, bun.

He isn’t paying much attention to the television. Jake’s thinking the night over as he nurses his beer. He wonders what it is about seeing Maverick and Penny just holding hands that was enough to make you freak out like that.

He considers for a moment that maybe you’re in love with Maverick, but then rules that out.

It’s not until a few minutes in to the second episode that Jake thinks to check his watch and realises it’s been forty-five minutes since you got in. Having three sisters, Jake knows that girls can take their time in the shower — but he doesn’t feel right about you taking so long. He sets the beer down on the coffee table and pushes himself up, heading towards the bathroom.

“Ace?” He knocks softly at the door and waits twenty seconds for an answer before he knocks and calls your name again. “Ace, you okay?”

He gives you longer to respond that time.

“Ace, you’ve got three seconds to answer me or I’m coming in.”

He waits five seconds, just in case you’re doing this to be difficult. Then, he turns the handle and lets himself in.

“I’m fine.” You sniffle from behind the shower curtain. Jake sighs in relief. He steps into the room and sits on the floor, his back resting against the side of the tub, “Don’t scare me like that.” He chastises.

You’re standing under the stream of borderline too hot water, exactly like you have been since you washed your conditioner out thirty minutes ago. You consider what he’s just said. Then you consider the fact that he’s sitting on your bathroom floor and that the only thing separating him from your naked body is the shower curtain.

It doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Oddly, you do feel a little better with him here.

“Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on? — because you’re freaking me out.” Hangman bends his knees and rests his forearms on them, shaking his head slightly.

You rest your forehead against the tile. He waits for a while in silence. The lump in your throat is back. You’ve been crying for thirty minutes, and questions like that make you just want to start all over again. Jake listens to you take a shaking breath behind the curtain.

“My mom died.”

His features contort, confused to the point that you can almost hear his expression when he asks, “What?”

You swallow a sob, wiping the water and tears from your face as you try to regulate your breath. “When I was a kid. She was a cop, she died on duty.”

Jake closes his eyes as he realises what an asshole he’s been.

“It ruined my dad’s life. Seeing him like that-“ You don’t finish your sentence but he knows what you mean. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.

Jake thinks of all of the time he has spent over the last three months joking, teasing you and making guesses as to why you had never had sex. He wishes you had just hit him or something.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is gentle. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him be serious for this long before. He is sorry. He’s sorry for all of it all at once.

You aren’t sure what makes you do it, but you turn off the water and pull back the curtain. Jake doesn’t really even have time to respond before you’ve dropped yourself into his lap and thrown yourself against his chest. His arms wrap around you instinctively as you bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“Hey,” He trails his fingertips along the length of your bare spine, bringing his other hand to cup the back of your head, holding you against him. “It’s okay.”

You’re trembling against him as he holds you.

“I’ve never wanted to let anyone close, but—” Your voice is half muffled by his shoulder, but he can still hear you, even through your cracking voice. “Fuck, aren’t you scared of dying alone?”

He wraps his arm around your waist and holds you closer, his features serious. “You’re not going to die, Ace.”

It feels like his arms around you, his heart beating against yours, are the only things keeping you grounded in reality right now. You grab the back of his neck, pulling yourself closer against him, “You don’t know that, no one does.”

Jake brushes your hair back off of your shoulders, not caring that you’re soaking wet, “I know that. You know me, I’m right about everything.” He squeezes you in his arms.

“I’m so scared of never loving anyone like he loved her,” You whisper. “I’m even more scared of loving someone like that and losing them again. Or them losing me. How could I put someone through that?”

He turns his head and kisses your temple, “Letting someone love you is scary stuff.” He agrees softly. His fingers brush softly along the your back.

“But,” He breathes, “You’re the best pilot I know. Besides me. Nothing bad is going to happen if you let someone in.”

You pull back to look him in the eye, your cheeks tear-stained and blotchy. He wipes your cheeks with his thumbs, holding your face in his hands.

“You can’t be sure of that.” Your voice cracks slightly.

He shakes his head, “No one knows when it’s gonna happen. There’s more chance of you getting eaten by a shark than something going wrong on a mission, you’re incredible up there. When have you ever let being scared of something hold you back before?”

You look him over, wondering where Hangman went, and why you hadn’t been looking at Jake all along. Jake with three sisters and a mother who he respected more than he respected the Navy itself. Jake who is here, now, when he should’ve been drinking with his buddies.

It happens quickly. You have no idea what you’re thinking, but you just do it. You lean forward and press your lips to his, his hands still holding your jaw as he lets you move in.

It’s when you pull back from the kiss, both of your eyes equally wide, that it occurs to you that you’re naked. You glance down, then back up, finding that his eyes have dropped to also look you over.

“Ace,” Jake swallows, shaking his head, “I’m sorry. I- We shouldn’t.”

“Please.” You say it without meaning to. You press your palms against his chest and shift, swinging one leg over his hip. He stares at you, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind all at once.

You make the decision for him as you lean forwards again and kiss him. He relaxes against you, sliding his hands down to hold your waist. You’re not surprised that he’s a good kisser, you know he’s had a lot of practice.

It should feel weird. Doing this. With Jake, of all people. But you don’t find yourself minding at all. You push your fingers up into his hair, humming as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

You feel his hands begin to wander. His hands slide down over the curve of your ass as his hips rock forward against yours.

“Take me to bed.” You murmur against his lips.

He hesitates, eyes closed as you lower your head and press your lips softly against the length of his neck — what’s visible of it over his white collar, anyway. You leave a few kisses along his throat, feeling his hands squeeze softly against your ass.

Then, against his better judgement, he stands. Jake guides your legs around his waist as he does so, pressing his lips to yours softly and then carrying you to your room. He’s been here before a few times. You live close to base, so you have your friends over when you can.

He doesn’t let you go as he lowers you onto your mattress and covers your body with his, brushing your hair back gently off of your face. You taste the beer on his tongue, you smell the soft cologne on his neck, you feel his hands on your skin. You’re here with him.

Your fingers find the golden top button of his jacket and pop it open as he kisses your neck. You hum softly, pushing your head back against the mattress as his lips work against you.

He’s settled between your legs. He lets you unbutton his jacket, but it’s as he’s shrugging it off of his shoulders that he pulls back and looks at you with concern.

“Ace — are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Please, Jake.” You whisper.

It’s now, that he’s on his knees between your legs, that he takes a moment to look admire what’s before him. You watch him, your heart thundering out of your chest as he reaches out and trails his fingertips along the centre of your body, from your collarbones to your pelvis.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jake murmurs, stroking softly along your thighs. “Can I touch you?”

You know what he means. His eyes fall shamelessly to look at your core. Part of you wants to press your legs together and kick him out. But, you nod.

If feels almost ridiculous, that he’s completely dressed before you and you’ve been naked in front of him for a while now.

But, as he moves forwards and captures your lips in a soft, borderline romantic, kiss — it’s all forgotten. You tense slightly as you feel his fingers move between your legs, but Jake knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t move too fast. He spends a moment just teasing his fingers along your folds until you subconsciously part your legs a little further for him.

“That’s it, baby.” He coos, and the reaction your body has to that is surprising to both of you. It’s like he can feel when you relax into him. Jake’s middle finger finds your clit as he kisses your shoulder. Then he kisses your chest, your collarbones.

He works his way down, just gently grazing his fingertip in circles over your clit. He’s barely applying any pressure at all, yet you’re whimpering softly.

It’s when his hips roll forward as he’s leaving open-mouthed kisses on your chest that you find that he’s rock hard. You hips push eagerly against his hand.

Jake can’t help it. The girl that he’s been obsessed with for months literally fell into his lap tonight, and naked too. You watch as he adjusts himself over his pants, his cock straining uncomfortably against the white material.

He applies some pressure between your legs finally, groaning softly as he massages your breast with his other hand. You jolt slightly as his tongue dances across your hardened nipple.

“Jake…” You breathe out, lips parting as you’re met with concerned blue eyes. He stops, worried he’s done something wrong. You push yourself up and kiss him, confirming that you’re whispering his name for all of the right reasons.

Spurred on, Jake slides his finger down and presses it into you. You’re half-distracted by his tongue caressing yours, so you’re surprised when you moan against his lips.

“I’ll take care of you, baby, don’t you worry.” He promises, watching your features as he slides a second finger into you. You swallow hard, then whine, pushing your hips against his hand.

He takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he curls his fingers gently inside of you, his eyes focused on yours. Your arousal coats his fingers, you arch yourself up into him slightly.

He works you open for him, eyes on you the entire time. Your eyes are closed. You don’t see the way that he studies you, observes your sensitivities. You don’t see the list in those ice-cold eyes as he brings you to an orgasm with just his fingers, his thumb grazing softly over your clit.

You’re hurrying him out of his clothes next. It’s all so desperate. You’ve seen Jake’s body before, he’s constantly wearing shorts and flexing his muscles. But, as he slides out of his boxers and kneels before you in nothing but his dog tags, you’re reminded that this is one of your closest friends in front of you now.

You swallow hard. His delicate touch makes it hard to believe that him and the guy you had wanted to punch so many times are the same person. He covers your body with his flawlessly tanned and muscled form, kissing your lips sweetly and brushing some hair back from your face.

“You’re sure?” He whispers, rock hard against your thigh. You nod at him feverishly, skimming your fingertips along his sides, pulling him closer to you.

You both take in soft breaths as he pushes into you, your eyes meeting. He catches your jaw, holding you still as he presses his length further in.

You can’t remember the first time you noticed how annoyingly blue Jake’s eyes were. But, as you’re staring at them now, you notice the softness of them for the first time. Usually they’re sharp, twinkling, mischievous. Now, they’re just pools of calm blue water — safety on the horizon.

Jake swallows, glancing down between your bodies. You watch his Adam’s apple bob and push forward, pressing your lips to the side of his throat. His eyes close gently, he presses his lips to your temple.

You notice the stretch as his hips press flush against yours, but you aren’t phased by any kind of pain. Especially not when he groans softly against your temple and presses himself closer to you. All you care about is that he’s here.

“Feels like you’re fucking made for me, baby.” He murmurs, curling his fingers against your roots, letting out a shivering breath as he begins to roll his hips forwards. He’s not quite thrusting, just rocking his hips softly to get you used to the feeling.

You inhale him. He smells like the cologne he picked up in the airport last year — the one he only wears on special occasions. He smells vaguely of jet fuel. He smells like your soap. Each breath you take, you’re trying to push yourself closer to him.

Your indication of comfort creates something deeper. It becomes desperate all of a sudden. You’re both panting against each other’s lips, he’s driving himself deep into you, his cock filling you in the most perfect way. His heart is thundering in his chest, so much so that you feel like you can almost hear his pulse.

You’re dizzied by him, your hands are all over the place. In his hair, along his back, digging into the backs of his biceps.

He ruts himself deeper into you at the feeling. His hands are in your hair, his lips find yours, he’s moaning softly against you. You surprise yourself when you moan for him as his cock brushes a particularly sensitive spot. It’s a confident sound.

“Sound so fucking pretty, Ace.” Jake whispers, nudging the tip of your nose with his until you’re looking at him again. His gaze anchors you, it keeps you here with him. It’s just you and him, the curtains are open and a blue neon light from somewhere outside has tinted his skin.

You curl your fingers around the back of his neck, his curl around your jaw. You observe each other’s vulnerability up close. Jake is the one to close his eyes first, to move forwards and kiss you deeply. He guides your leg up higher around his waist and drives himself deeper into you.

“Fuck…” you whisper, watching his lips quirk up into a soft smile. He never could resist a stroke to his ego.

He rests his elbow beside your head, his other hand still cradling your jaw as he kisses you once more. Reminded of his strength as you catch sight of his flexed bicep at your side, you skim your fingers along each toned ridge of his stomach.

“I-I’m really close.” You admit, your breath shaking as you look down between your bodies. Jake nods softly, curling his fist tightly in your sheets, “That’s it, darling. Go ahead.”

His voice is deep and that southern accent that slips out sometimes — that one that you’ve made fun of him for so many times — inexplicably might be what pushes you over the edge.

Jake’s lips part softly at the sound you make, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he makes you cum. He bottoms out erratically, breathing hard against the base of your neck. You grasp at his back, digging your nails lightly into his skin.

“Fuck, Jake.” You whimper, pushing your head back hard against the mattress. He grunts softly, leaving feverish kisses along your collarbones. You curl one leg around his waist, leaning your head back as far as you can against the mattress to give his lips better access to your throat.

“I’m gonna cum.” He pants against your jaw. You’re so enamoured in him that you don’t find yourself caring in the slightest. In fact, whichever part of your brain that’s in control right now, guides your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him closer.

Jake’s knuckles whiten around your sheets, his other hand remains gentle and steadfast on your jaw. You gasp softly, taking your lip between your teeth as he fills you. He seeks out your lips and kisses you hard, desperate.

Your legs, trembling, relax slightly as he rolls off of you and pulls you into his arms. He kisses your forehead and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, then holds you against his chest. You kiss his chest gently, reaching out and taking his dog tags in your palm.

He moves his head back and watches you examine them.

“This isn’t the end, Ace.” He promises, trailing his fingertips delicately along the length of your spine. He kisses the top of your head and rests his chin against you.

You wonder what he means. Whether it’s the end of things between you and him, before they’ve even really begun. Or the end of everything.

“Can you stay here tonight?” You whisper softly, brushing your thumb over the engraving in the metal. Jake nods his head quickly. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

He nods. Jake understands. For once, he feels like he finally gets you.

…

#jake seresin #Jake Seresin smut #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman smut #hangman top gun #hangman x you #glen powell

[vampi-fixx]

payback.

BLEACH | mayuri kurotsuchi x reader

rating: 18+ smut summary: you are mayuri’s newest fourth seat who enjoys testing the limits of his patience. little do you know, you’ve gotten deeper under his skin than you’re aware of. or: in which mayuri, bursting with sexual frustration, fucks himself in front of/with your gigai  tw/cw: 18+ only, afab reader, female pronouns, dubcon leaning towards noncon (highly dubious if gigais can consent), mouthfucking, masturbation, degradation, legit mayuri calls you only awful names lmfao, mayuri likes your mammaries, references to age gap (kind of??? i mean he’s old as shit and you’re younger but def an adult too), power dynamics, control issues, gigai... fucking... only slightly crack word count: 2k

my christmas present last year for @unohanadaydreams! she has given me permission to post here

—--

Mayuri Kurotsuchi prided himself on his ingenuity. He was the pioneer of some of Seireitei’s finest technological staples–the new Soul communicators, gigai that stretched and shaped to one’s reiatsu. Nevermind the fact that he had inherited his lab from a former conniving blonde taicho It was purely his own intellectual proclivities that had propelled Seireitei into the modern world, despite his forebearer’s accomplishments. He had created artificial life, had stretched the very limits of one’s imagination for what could be created.

But there was one thing that he did not create, one invention that served to only infuriate him whenever anyone and everyone around him reminded him of its existence.

“Oh? So you possess some of his junk, too?”

You looked up from the shiny, new–he sniffed distastefully–ineffectual plastic swill in your hands. Cheaply designed. Mass-produced. A knockoff of what true genius is.

The cellphone.

“Taicho! It’s not junk. It’s a modern method of communication. If you bothered to play around with it like one of your other little toys, I’m sure you’d like it–”

“Do not even speak to me about that man’s inferior creations!” Mayuri seethed.

He ground his teeth together, feeling the joints in his earpiece grind. Did he not make it clear his distaste for that man’s designs? Did you not even bother to read the training manual, which explicitly had a section about this kind of thing? How much more did he have to spell it out to his mindless, dim-witted subordinates that they were not to tamper with Urahara’s inventions?!

“Akon, you useless cretin, please inform (Y/N) of our policy about those asinine contraptions–”

Akon looked up from something in his hands. Oh. Oh no. Hellfire. Was that–was that truly—

Mayuri felt his temper rise once again.

“Oh, uh, sorry, taicho. (Y/N) sent me a funny meme and I just—”  Mayuri crossed his arms together, scowling. Akon quickly shoved his phone into the pocket of his hakama. “Of course, taicho. No phones allowed. We all know the policy.”

Mayuri whirled around, smacking the phone away from your hands. It landed on the floor with a sickening crack. You yelped, scrambling for it. A twisted smile curled on his lips. Heh. As he thought, such an inferior creation couldn’t even stand the mere force of physics–

“It’s a good thing Urahara threw in a screen protector for free!” you said gleefully, holding up the cracked phone screen. Mayuri noted with disgust that only the plastic surface broke, the glass screen behind it remarkably intact. He ignored the small kindle of interest in him at its sheer indestructibility.

He sneered. He absolutely hated that man.

–

 Mayuri, to his defense, did not think much of his particular detestation towards your adoration of his former taicho. He was after all, inundated with several comparisons of his accomplishments to Urahara’s. It would make any scientist ticked off.

But what did make him pause is the fact that whenever he thought of Urahara, the sound of your voice would grate his ears.

“Urahara-san is such a genius. Look at his newest invention, Kurotsuchi-taicho!”

“Wow, I wish I’d been around when he was Head of the Shinigami Research Institute.”

Mayuri had several hypotheses over his irrepressible annoyance towards your adoration of his former taicho. Neither of them more plausible than the others.

One, you were a new recruit, his new fourth seat. It could be a generational thing–he wanted to instill upon your idiotic, misguided mind the importance of his research. You had a startling lack of respect towards authority; your response to his threats to chain you to his lab room and pick apart your brain were followed merely by a waggle of your brows, a certain suggestive air.

“Promise that, taicho? I find men who want to pick apart my brain irresistible.”

He howled at you, flung every name in the book, asked what kind of uncultivated manner the Sixth Division had instilled you. No wonder they’d shipped you off to his division--the thought of Byakuya Kuchiki, Mr. Prim and Noble, putting up with your lib? Inconceivable. 

But still–perhaps he could mold you. You, his budding protege. Mayuri never took to the mentor role, despised most other peons, but you–

You.

Many times he had caught his stare lingering on the way your shihakusho stretched across your bosom, the smart glint of your glasses when you’d discovered something, the smooth curve to your palms. At first, he chalked it up to mere curiosity. Your back must’ve hurt with the sizable weight of your chest; glasses were an unfortunate defect; your hands were far too delicate to be those of a dedicated scientist–you must have hardly worked in the labs.

Naturally, he found himself thinking of how he could improve on you. Modifications–surely, you would let him.

But soon he found his thoughts shifted from those of improvement, to that of your body. Your breasts, pliant and soft, brushing past him as you moved to grasp a plasma sample. His usual urge to avoid all physical contact entwined with a strange kind of longing: to tear at your shihakusho to grasp your skin in its entirety.

Night after night he’d spent with himself in hand, stroking incessantly, your marvel over his achievements fresh in mind.

“Taicho, you’re a genius!”

“The way you optimized the reactors was incredible, taicho. Very impressive.”

Yes, you peon. Revel in his intellect, the things he could teach you.

How would you take to his seed, he wondered? Did you, a lowly lab assistant, even deserve his attention?

Much less his carnal desire to shut up your incessant questions with acts so depraved it made him even wonder if they were physically possible?

Urahara wouldn’t know how to handle a protege like you. It was better that you were in Mayuri’s hands, so that he could train you, mold you like clay beneath his palms.

He cums over his fist with a howl, gritting his teeth at the hot lava flowing through his digits. He scowls at the mess it leaves behind, thick remnants of his rapture dripping onto the ground.

Time to make Akon clean it up.

–

Urahara’s gigai. A fine creation. The fact that you left yours lying around uninhabited on a mission in the Human World though? Careless. He thought he’d taught you better.

Mayuri was on his own kind of reconnaissance, of course, collecting samples of reishi when he found it lying inside the bedroom of some human. He scowled, approaching your gigai. He nudged it with a foot before scowling and crouching down. Did it contain your likeness? Exactly so?

It was with scientific curiosity that he began a hands-on examination.

Surely Urahara could do better work, he thought. The gigai’s lips were far too thin, her pallor too sickly. Mayuri, with a specific kind of scientific detachment, groped her breast. Based on his measurements, she was slightly flatter. He scoffed. Mayuri would have made a more accurate replica, he thought, frowning as he continued to squeeze your breast.

He wanted to perform a test. Just how much was this gigai in the likeness of you?

He removed his cock from his trousers, with a dim kind of awareness that he was already half-hard. Hm. Perhaps he was not so unaffected by Kisuke’s creation as he assumed, he thought

A hiss escaped his mouth as he gripped his painted cock, pumping it several times. This was all your fault. If you had just been a docile thing, let him experiment on you like he asked; if you hadn’t been such a spitfire thing, calling into question him being out of date with things, perhaps he wouldn’t need to resort to such demeaning acts like this.

Yes, this was all your fault.

You were the reason his hand was flying over his cock like he was some kind of pubescent oaf, intent on thinking only with his mind and what was the next hole to fill. He hated you, hated the way you made him uncannily aware of the physicality of his own body, of what he could do to you–

He ground his teeth together hard, the joints in his ear popping, as his grip encircled the head of his cock. His pleasure felt near bursting, his other hand clutching the edge of the table.

In lieu of punishing your soul, due to the new “anti-sexual harassment” policies that that damned Shunsui instated, the wicked thought occured to him: he should punish your gigai like this. Yes. It was the perfect kind of revenge.

Mayuri pinched a muscle in the jaw of your gigai that had your jaw staying open. Good. He slowly eased his cock inside, hissing at the gummy feel of your mouth.

Yes, he grunted, as he set up a steady pace, pistoning his hips into your mouth. This suited you. Pliant, obedient, quiet. Letting him tarnish you. He felt his balls clench at the thought of you bowing before him.

“Mayuri-sama,” you would plead, with that same kind of spark in your eye. “Please–experiment with me as you’d like!”

He smacked your chest, reveling in the jiggle. Well. Perhaps Kisuke got one thing right. His hand was like a vice on the softness of your gigai’s tit, squeezing hard enough to certainly leave a mark. Good, he thought. That way some remnant of his carnal moment would be left on you.

You deserved to feel pain to the point of pleasure, just as you had inflicted on him.

He thrust the entirety of his dick into your gigai’s mouth, hissing when the head of his cock nudged the back of your throat.

“You asinine fledgling,” he grunted. “How dare you–captivate me so. I should have your head on a pike outside my division, you harlot.”

He moved his hips back, before thrust hard into the inside of your cheek.

“I abhor you,” Mayuri hissed, his hips bucking into your mouth almost automatically, chasing the tight warmth of your throat. “I d-detest your ilk. I–I should have you t-transferred from my division.”

“You–absolute–swine–agh.”

He came down your throat with a shudder, grimacing as he felt his seed ooze out from your mouth, saw it spill from between your gigai’s lips. He wiped it off with your sleeve, before tucking himself back into his pants.

With a prickling sense of accomplishment, he realized he had left a smidge of purple paint between your lips. Heh.

He took a picture with his own device, a much superior version of Kisuke’s cellphone.

For his reference. In case he decided to further experiment on recreating you.

—

“Well well well, to what do I owe the pleasure, miss?”

You snorted, throwing Urahara a lofty glance.

“You know why I’m here, Kisuke.”

He gripped the rim of his hat, pursing his lips. “Are your attempts to seduce the crazy scientist going well?” 

You grimaced, shaking your head.

“You know how he is... he’d sooner dissect my corpse than take me up on my offer for dinner.” 

“Nah?” Urahara hums thoughtfully. “Well then… why don’t you try this?” he said, tossing you a vial. “Makes even the most rational man lose it.”

–

After your mini-detour, you returned to your gigai, and smacked your lips together immediately once you noticed something was wrong. Just what was this taste in your mouth? Salty and bitter….

Not to mention the paint smeared on your lips. You would have to talk to Kisuke about the kind of shenanigans your gigai got up to….

#bleach x reader #mayuri kurotsuchi x reader #mayuri x reader #bleach imagine #bleach th0ts #bleach smut #tati writes #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #tw: power imbalance #not sfw #tw: dark content

[yurisorcerer]

That was really good!

Gosh, I have many thoughts, but I'm not sure how well I'll be able to articulate them given that I'm kind of tired at the moment.

So, my main love here is for the characters. I think people tend to sell Dungeon Meshi on its worldbuilding and I do get that (it's very complex and is quite well thought-out), but the characters are what really grabbed me. I don't think there was a single member of the main cast I didn't love. Laios is such a delightfully weird monster manual fanboy and I 100% agree with the people who say he feels neurodivergent and that this feels intentional. Senshi is awesome and it's very funny how the manga is extremely horny for him. Chilchuk brings a profound Divorced Dad energy to the cast that I think is great for bouncing off of the other characters. Izutsumi is interesting by how she contrasts with the earlier party members, I want to think about her role in the story more. I think she was kind of meant to give us an "outcast's perspective" of sorts? I think she's good at being that, but I feel like having blown through most of the manga in a few days may have hampered my appreciation of some of the more subtle aspects of her character.

Marcille, though, is my favorite; as someone who is also a really fussy eater and just kind of tightly-wound in general I found her really relatable. She's also super, super, super pretty and cute but we don't need to get into that right now. I cannot be the first person to point out how, when she becomes the dungeon lord, her behavior starts feeling extremely manic, right? I suffer from delusional episodes that include very difficult to ignore intrusive thoughts, and I thought the whole bit she went into about how being the dungeon lord feels felt very familiar in that respect, and it really hit home for me.

(On the flip side, having your desires eaten by the demon seems similar to depression. I've been there, too.)

Other stuff! I like the whole overarching theme of eating both in the literal sense and as a general metaphor for going through one's life. In the very last chapter Marcille says something to the effect of, perhaps this journey was to teach us to accept death, and I don't think that's necessarily the entirety of what the series is going for, but that's part of it definitely. There's a whole circle of life thing going on here. The manga is very....sensory? Lots of focus on taste of course but also scent and feeling. Lots of really strong imagery along those lines throughout the entirety of it.

I set the worldbuilding aside earlier but it is super neat actually, also. I still don't love the general conceits of a western-style fantasy setup, but I think this is honestly about as well as it's possible to do this material. Everyone has a motivation for their actions that feels inspired by experience and history rather than just Dwarves Do X and Elves Do Y and so on. There's a LITTLE of that, but not nearly as much as is typical for this kind of thing. In particular, I liked the orcs. Their usage as a symbol is perhaps somewhat fraught (I'm not the person to make that call either way), but it felt like it was coming from a good place and they're just treated so much better here than comparable people in other media, idk. It felt nice to me.

The art! The art is fucking gorgeous, like, if I wanted to get someone to read this manga this is one of the things I'd mention. The entire dungeon feels so wonderfully lived-in and ancient. You can practically feel the stonework in some panels. (Sidebar here! The anime is really good at capturing this, do watch the anime it's fantastic.)

Some other random stray thoughts:

-The circumstances she gets it in obviously suck, but Marcille's dungeon lord outfit honestly serves hard and everyone should get off her case about it.

-I ended up liking the captain of the Canaries a lot more than I thought I would. He's just an interesting character all around.

-I also really love Sissel / Thistle / apparently how you romanize this is a source of some contention. I feel sooooo bad for the guy. He just wanted to keep everyone safe! It's not his fault that his idea of keeping everyone safe ended up being influenced by a lion-headed demon from outside of reality and corrupted into a suffocating hellscape for those same people! OK maybe it's a little his fault

-I like the diversity in appearances across the characters. This is a thing I wish more manga did this well.

-Laios' kingly titles in the final chapter, RANKED from MOST to LEAST badass: 1. Laios of the Three Heads (based as fuck, makes people ask questions when they hear about you in a history book several centuries down the line), 2. The Demon-Eater (badass and very specific) 3. The Vegetable-Armored (basically gets the same reaction as #1, but with a more comedic lean) 4. Demon King Laios (this honestly seems pretty disingenuous but it is dope) 5. The Dragon-Slayer (very generic, also not even the most impressive part of what he did) 6. The Lord of the Dungeon (Crusader Kings 2 auto-generated-ass name) 7. Pervy Tallman (this sounds like a bad comedian)

-I want to kiss Marcille on the lips

-who said that

-haha I wouldn't mind the Canaries coming to arrest me am I right fellow lesbians

-who said that (part 2)

anyway yeah really good manga highly recommended. I'm not sure if it's a (get out the scare quotes folks) "Personal Favorite" per se, but it might become one over time. Usually such things take a bit to settle with me. The fact that I have any interest in reading it again is a good sign, though. 90% of the time when I'm done with media I'm fine with never revisiting it again. Dungeon Meshi I would very much like to revisit, both in the form of the anime that's airing right now and also I think I'd like to re-read the manga in a few years when I'm at a different place in my life to see what I think of it a little farther down the line. I liked it a lot, and I think it will stick with me.

#Dungeon Meshi #Delicious in Dungeon #yurisorcerer talks about media #spoilers

[chemblrish]

You are literally living my ideal life! (I dream of getting a degree in and working in chemistry) What are the drawbacks/ highlights of your work in university?

Hello!

I'm so happy to hear you want to major in chemistry :) It's a beautiful, fascinating science and the superior one at that. Keep in mind this is my experience as a first year student (and if any older chemistry students want to chime in, please do!)

Personally, I'm very much in love with my faculty, so it's hard to be totally objective snhfks but what I really enjoy about my studies is how I get to learn all the important concepts in depth. Everything I once learnt on a simplified surface level now I get to explore with more nuance: things like calculating pH, precipitation, solubility, it's all a lot more complex than what they can (understandably) tell you in school and it's really satisfying to be able to dig into that.

Speaking of calculations, I liked math a lot back in hs and I was good enough with it, but definitely not math student level - and I feel like chemistry is perfect for me, bc I get to do math nearly everyday, but it's not the terrifying kind that physicists deal with that hard (unless you choose theoretical chemistry I guess, but that's definitely not my sort of thing).

Then you have the practicals and it's so satisfying that you get to do everything yourself! First semester we mostly worked in groups bc we were babies, but now we work by ourselves and it's so cool to see how your manual skills improve, how much more comfortable you become working in lab, how what you learnt in lectures and what you learnt in practice come together.

I've always been very curious about the natural world and now I'm studying it with people who love what they do, who are extremely knowledgeable and intelligent, who want me to learn and succeed. Also, our puns are the best 😁

Now, for the drawbacks...

Back to seriousness though: I'm not sure if any of the cons I'm about to list are chemistry specific, I think being in uni is just Like That™️, but I'd say the failures hurt like crazy. Sometimes I study so hard and do my best but still get a low grade. Chemistry is a demanding major. And the thing is, everyone around is also working so hard, and it looks like you're surrounded by absolutely brilliant people (I know I am!), so your insecurities may really flare up.

Consistency and discipline are absolutely necessary - once you fall behind, it can be very difficult to catch up and I guess you can see how that gets stressful at times. Similarly, you need to be mindful about what you study - you come across a difficult topic, decide to skip it to save some precious time, and I can promise you that each one of those without a fail will come up sooner or later like the hiccups. Basics first. You need to grasp them well and not shy away from things you don't instantly understand.

Each semester is a bit different, but my second one in particular has been exhausting in terms of the number of classes I had to take. After 7h (and a million reactions...) in lab I still had to go to another class and wrestle with Excel, and the only reason I was able to come home afterwards and do Nothing™️ was because I'd spent the entire previous weekend studying.

Every major has its downsides though. I used to study something else (biotechnology if you're curious) and I hated it, so I think I'm a lot more aware of what I like and dislike now, what I can endure, and what I care about - and I've found out chemistry is something I care about deeply, something I can picture myself choosing over and over again if given the chance. That means the pros outweigh the cons for me.

I hope this answers your question and didn't bore you to death 😅

#also my personal hypothesis is chemists are the funniest people out there aha #inbox #studyblr #chemblr #chemistry asks

[ootahime]

analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga 😈

this series will probably have more than one part because tumblr only lets me upload ten images per post </3

warning: there are disgustingly long paragraphs in here and delusions

chapter 32

utahime’s first introduction!  akutami lets us know right off the bat that she thinks gojo is an idiot (so true).

chapter 32

i love the contrast between miwa and utahime’s reaction to gojo’s appearance.  

chapter 33

NAH BC TELL ME WHY HE WENT OUT OF HIS WAY TO NOT GET HER ONE LMAOOOO!!  when he traveled overseas to meet with yuta, he picked up the tribal protection charms and thought to himself, “let’s get enough for the kyoto students as a gift since i am such a great and caring teacher, after all.  mmm, i should skip utahime to make her mad~”  this guy puts way too much effort into getting on her nerves.  his mind = utahime brainrot

chapter 33

she’s laughing at him here because he’s getting disciplined for being a lil shit.  i wonder...what would he say if he saw her laughing at him like that?  

chapter 33

this interaction between them is a little strange don’t you think?   i feel like over the years he’s learned how to pick up her mood based on the way she’s acting towards him.  you’re probably thinking, “well any person can figure out how a person’s feeling based on the way they’re talking or acting.”  yes, that’s absolutely true, but it’s kind of different with this.  she’s acting normal.  utahime has a rather indifferent expression on her face and what she says is spoken in a calm tone, but gojo still asks her if she’s mad at him.  it’s likely that he knows her well enough to be able to notice these subtle things.  even if she wasn’t actually mad at him, he was being considerate for a split second, then he went and said, “of course.  i didn’t do anything wrong and all.”  what a guy LOLOL.  to me, this implies that maybe he made her genuinely angry in the past to the point where he realized that he went too far, and thus decided to be more careful of her feelings.  she has definitely gotten annoyed at him so many times after that so whenever she seems angry, he probably asks himself if he took it too far.  i’m curious to see if he can pick up if she’s upset with something that’s not involving him.  would he console her?  how does gojo satoru console someone?  

despite him always annoying her, she’s still courteous and brings him a cup of tea during their talk.  she didn’t have to go out of her way to get tea for him but she did.  that’s the kind of person utahime is.  a kind and caring woman who would never put her students in danger.  in the anime they were sitting far away and not facing each other like they’re doing in the manga.  she also has her own tea cup.  i think that little panel of her placing the cup down on the table and him picking it up to take a sip is a nice little detail.  it just proves that her hating him most of the time isn’t actually pure hatred but annoyance because of his shenanigans and teasing.

chapter 33

i touched upon this a little bit in my previous post, but i wish to go more in depth about this panel.  first of all, he ends the sentence with her name twice.  two times too many, mr. gojo.  i like how they can be serious with each other too LOL.  i wish we got to see them talk about the traitors because they did figure it out together after all.  does it always end in bickering?  can they interact with each other like adults all the way through?  somehow, i feel like that’s not possible when it comes to these two.  furthermore, notice how gojo confides in utahime about his suspicions.  from what we know, she is the first person he brought it up to.  i mean, i guess he has to start investigating the schools and would need extra assistance to save time, but he could have done it himself if he really wanted to.  by deciding to ask for her help we know that he thinks she’s trustworthy, smart, and strong enough to face whatever considerable risks this task may entail.  

i didn’t point this out in my other posts but see how he makes a hand sign in the last panel when she throws the cup at him?  gojo is manually activating his infinity.  why though?  about a year after the whole star plasma vessel incident happened, gojo develops the ability to keep his infinity up at all times by using the reversed curse technique to consistently heal himself to prevent exhaustion.  this means that it really makes no difference whether he leaves it on or off.  there are a few times where we can witness someone actually touching gojo.  for example, yuuji giving him a hug.  did he turn his infinity off, or was it able to deduce that yuuji was not a threat?  the erasers and pencils shoko and geto threw at him during his demonstration of his new ability aren’t dangerous normally, but is it the speed that makes them dangerous?  even if it did hit him, it wouldn’t hurt.  how does the infinity know when to allow an incoming object to touch gojo?  i believe it is up to gojo himself to let things touch him; his infinity restricts anything and anyone.  some people say it could just be the fact that water is not dangerous to him, so therefore, he has to manually put his infinity up.  i thought this was a reasonable explanation as to why he put up the hand sign when the tea was thrown at him, but then i realized that it couldn’t be.  remember the second opening?  it’s raining and everyone is carrying an umbrella, then it pans to gojo with a bouquet in his hand and rain drops slipping off his infinity.  if he DID manually put his infinity up to prevent getting soaked then that implies that he chose to turn his infinity off.  you can argue and say that jujutsu high is a safe place with students so there’s no need to have his infinity there, but do you remember when he stepped on the ants in front of gakuganji and yaga?  the ants were perfectly fine after which insinuates that his infinity prevented his shoes from crushing the ants.  he most likely had his infinity on during the baseball game even though he was in a safe environment.  how does this long tangent relate back to utahime?  well, it simply indicates that gojo trusts utahime so much to the point where he can be vulnerable around her.  turning off his infinity symbolizes completely letting down his guard  in a way.  

how about what happens next?  utahime throws the tea at him, he turns on his infinity to deflect it, and he responds with, “scary!  hysteric women aren’t popular, you know!”  why would he even say that LMAO??  utahime doesn’t even try to deny what he said either.  she just hits him with the good old, “i am your senpai!”  could it be that he’s trying to poke fun of her relationship status?  maybe, maybe not.  doesn’t he like people a lil crazy?  he did say that all jujutsu sorcerers have to be a little crazy because they’re willing to put themselves in danger constantly.  

chapter 0 p.1

i wonder who he’s thinking of when he said that.  could it be utahime?  it seems like he’s reminiscing or thinking about someone.  he wears an amused expression on his face as he laughs - almost like he’s seen his fair share of how scary women can get :>>

chapter 34

the pattern behind gojo and utahime is called yagasuri “fletching,” a traditional japanese design.  this design is inspired by arrow fletching.  it's a lucky charm for weddings and other celebrations since it's based on the Japanese belief that an arrow shot once never comes back.  brides were given kimonos with this pattern for good luck during the edo era (1603–1868) to ensure they would not have to return to their original family home.  this pattern can have numerous meanings such as steadfastness or determination to achieve a goal, or a wish for the happiness of the bride.  there is a belief that a bow and arrow represent the fight against evil.  honestly, this meaning fits the narrative of the story.  utahime and gojo are unearthing the traitors that are feeding intel to the curse users and cursed spirits.  they are in the middle while the kyoto students surround them, which could mean that it’s their job as adults to protect these children from the grasps of evil slowly making itself more prominent.  do you also notice that the arrows are pointed toward utahime from gojo?  from all the images i’ve seen, the arrows are usually pointed downward.  what could this mean?  is gojo trying to protect her (in the future (?)) or does he have a big fat crush smh...

i think it’s a good time to mention utahime’s clothing.  she’s wearing miko attire.  miko are shrine maidens who were once thought to be shamans (you connecting the dots?).  in their service to shrines, miko used to perform spirit possession and takusen (in which the possessed person acts as a "medium" (yorimashi) to communicate the divine will or message of that kami (god) or spirit; also included in the category of takusen is "dream revelation" (mukoku), in which a kami appears in a dream to communicate its will).  this was back in the old days, of course.  to become a miko back then (shaman), one needed to have potential.  neurosis, hallucinations, odd behavior, and hysteria (HYSTERIA HELLO???) are some of the signs that a person is being called to shamanism.  when a miko is communicating with a kami (god) or spirit by acting as a medium, she is in a trance-like state, and so she must learn techniques to control herself when this happens.  chanting and dancing were used to accomplish this, so the girl was taught melodies and intonations that were used in songs, prayers, and magical formulas.  all of this could give us insight about utahime’s technique and explains why she’s good at singing :)  maybe she can’t control herself when she uses her technique which is why she isn’t shown using it because it should be used for dire situations.  i imagine being possessed by a spirit or god must consume a lot of cursed energy.  it makes sense that utahime and gakuganji wear traditional clothing.  they’re the staff of jujutsu high’s kyoto branch.  in chapter 0, kyoto is known as the sacred land of jujutsu.  it’s more traditional compared to tokyo.  if you want to learn more about miko, you should check out the wikipedia page!  

chapter 34

i swear he tries to annoy her every chance he gets.  i bet he sets a goal for himself to see how many times utahime lectures him about respecting his seniors every time he’s within the same vicinity as her.  at least he called her utahime-sensei!!!

chapter 40

this isn’t even a gojohime moment tbh...i just wanted to share a pic of them sitting next to each other HEHE.  why are they sitting next to each other anyway?  it’s not like they have assigned seating.

----

that was so long and i apologize for the gargantuan paragraphs you guys had to read through.  i’m writing this at 4 in the morning and i’m feeling borderline delirious so i apologize if there are any errors.  i’ll edit this when i have time <3

the next part should come shortly.

#gojohime #gouta #gojo x utahime

[readyplayerhobi]

La Douleur Exquise

; Horse Hybrid!Taehyung x Lovebird Hybrid!Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, smut

; Warnings: Penetrative sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, impregnation kink, filmed sex

; Word Count: 14.9k

; Synopsis: Taehyung is in love with his best friend. The problem? He’s a stallion, a horse hybrid who’s basic instinct is to collect a herd of women to protect and procreate. His best friend is a lovebird hybrid and they mate for life. He knows it’s pretty much impossible to be together and that you’d end up hurt, but what happens when he finds out you love him just as much?

; A/N: So, my first fic in like...two months? I started this fic in early July and honestly...I just wanted it finished. If it seems a bit disjointed or something then it was very stop and start...I hope you all enjoy it anyway and that it doesn’t disappoint or anything! It’s taken a WHILE for me to get back into writing (honestly, I almost left lol). Please reblog if you enjoyed and leave me comments and asks!

-

“Oh...fuck. Fuck, you’re so big, mmm,” The girl on her hands and knees in front of Taehyung moaned, her ass wiggling in desperation as he thrust his hard cock into her soaked pussy. “Harder, please. Please, fuck me harder.”

He hissed as she clenched around him, his entire length disappearing with ease inside her as his hips moved rhythmically. Large hands groped at the globes of her ass, squeezing them and spreading them wide to give the best view possible. Grunting, he slapped at one cheek hard and smirked when she yelped, jerking slightly.

“Such a pretty girl, so pliant and willing, hmm?” Taehyung questioned, his voice low and brusque as he moved hard enough to cause the room to be filled with the sound of skin slapping on skin. “A greedy pussy, so eager for your stallion to get you in foal, aren’t you?” 

She moaned in response, her face unseen to him but her body reacted by squeezing around his cock once more. Running one hand along her spine, he hummed in delight before leaning forward and biting down on her shoulder. It was instinctual, something deep in his genes telling him to hold her steady while he filled her up and impregnated her.

His other hand moved down to her clit, the bundle of nerves still soft and silky with her excitement but also swollen hard with her impending orgasm. Years of experience let his fingertips find the exact spot he needed, swirling them in quick circles and making her cry out even louder, hips bucking beneath him.

“That’s a good mare,” He panted, trailing his nose along her neck slowly. “Come for me, come on, you can do it. Tighten that pussy around me and I’ll breed you as you want.” 

Her orgasm hit seconds later, body convulsing tightly around him and he grunted, hips jerking forward even more rapidly. She was whining, a babbling mess beneath him as he continued to stimulate her, the effects being just as pleasurable for him too until he too came.

Pressing into her hard, he felt the slight resistance of what must be her uterus against the tip of his cock but she didn’t complain of any pain. One of the benefits of being a fellow horse hybrid was that a mare was biologically compatible with the large cock stallions had. One hand held her hips steady, making sure she didn’t move away as his balls convulsed rhythmically, each time causing his cock to twitch as he continued to ejaculate inside her.

She was breathing hard now, her body covered in a fine layer of sweat that caught the light perfectly and he hummed in appreciation, finally feeling the end of his orgasm. Slowly, he pushed himself upright and licked at his lips as he gave a few, shallow thrusts to wring out his final moments of pleasure and also make sure she got all of his cum.

“You were a good girl for me. We’ll get a nice colt or filly from you.” He mutters, stroking along her back appreciatively. Her skin was darker in certain patches and lighter in others, a result of her American Paint Horse breeding. It was pretty and he let his fingers trail along with the colour distinction.

Finally, though, he pulled out. The noise as he did so was extremely wet, but that was nothing compared to the rush of thick, white cum that slipped out of her used pussy. Pursing his lips, he looked it over carefully before dragging his fingers through some of it and pushing it back inside her. It didn’t matter, stallions were renowned for the large amount of semen they produced and she was probably filled inside.

“And cut!” Called the director, his voice interrupting the silence of the set. Taehyung let out an immediate sigh of relief and sat back, his cock rapidly softening now that the scene was over. His co-star sat up with a groan, stretching to get out the kinks in her back from the position she’d been in for the last ten minutes.

As she did so, the trickle of cum once more became a torrent, slipping down her thighs to collect on the bed. She didn’t pay attention to it and he didn’t say anything, the two of them used to scenes like this by now. Wheein was a consummate professional and one of the best in the porn industry, just like Taehyung.

“That was a good scene,” She complimented him, smiling in gratitude to her assistant who brought a robe that she used to cover herself up with. “Even if the whole ‘dirty talk’ is a little overdone nowadays.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes in agreement, grinning as he accepted the cleaning wipes from his assistant. Without a care in the world, he began to wipe his cock clean as he continued on his discussion with Wheein. She was quickly wiping down her thighs and between her legs as well. They’d both clean up more properly when they went to their dressing rooms but he wouldn’t be seeing her again after this.

Not unless they worked on the same set again.

“Right? It’s so fucking cringe. I wish they’d hire someone who’s an equine if they’re going to write a script featuring two of us. Who even talks like that?” He muttered, tugging on his robe and tying it closed before slipping his feet into the sandals provided to him.

The laugh Wheein gives is sweet, making her entire face light up. She really is a beautiful woman and her body is equally divine, only made even better by her kind and bubbly personality. Not that she’d been able to show that during this scene of course.

It struck Taehyung that she’d probably make a good mare for his herd. Despite the fact they were lamenting how lame the script was that they’d been given, there were some truths to what they’d filmed. A stallion like Taehyung would actively seek out fertile mares from good stock for his herd to breed with.

The better quality the mare’s breeding, the better his foals would be. 

At least, that’s what horse hybrids were meant to do. Wheein would probably even agree to it if he asked. He knew that she wasn’t in a herd already and she’d made it pretty clear to him that she’d be open to something outside of their work if he wanted. His deeply-rooted instincts demanded that he take her home and breed her properly, but he just sighed deeply instead.

He may be a horse hybrid, with all the possessive and protective instincts that provided him as a stallion, but he had no actual interest in living his life like that. Which is why he makes a little more small talk with Wheein before leaving to go to his dressing room. The shower he takes is quick, making sure to rub viciously at his body as he tries his hardest to remove any scent of the mare he’d just fucked.

Hybrids were something that had been created long ago. So long ago, no one knew how they were made anymore. The knowledge had been lost in the Hybrid Revolution, three centuries ago when hybrids had refused to be slaves for their human masters anymore. Ever since they’d been treated as equals to everyone else in society.

That didn’t mean that they’d integrated fully of course. Hybrids of different species more often than not stayed with each other or mated with humans. It did happen though, but the differing instincts meant it often was better for a hybrid to simply stay within their species.

Something Taehyung had always found amusing though was the fact that even within their species, a lot of hybrids would only mate within their own ‘breed’. Wheein was a pure American Paint Horse, coming from a long line that could be traced back to when the humans had been breeding horse hybrids for manual labour, protection services and sports purposes.

Back then, the humans treated hybrids exactly like actual horses. They had a studbook and would breed stallions to certain mares to produce characteristics they wanted. Placid nature, easy to work with, intelligent, quick to learn and so forth. When they’d been released, the breeds had continued on the studbooks to this day.

There were plenty who didn’t follow that ideology, of course, Taehyung’s parents were not the same breed after all, but a lot seemed to put stock in being ‘purebred’. It was just another way to act superior in his opinion.

Besides, his parents may not be from the same breed but he was still technically a breed all of his own. His mother was an Arabian while his father a Thoroughbred, meaning he was a breed called an Anglo-Arab. That was considered a breed in its own right, though perhaps not as prestigious as either of his parents.

Whatever he didn’t care about all that. Taehyung had no real interest in following the cultural norms of his heritage. And the reason for that was waiting for him back at his apartment. The thought of that spurred him into cleaning up even faster, making sure he was squeaky clean before pulling on the clothes he’d removed earlier in the day.

Glancing in the mirror once finished, he sighed deeply and looked himself over. A quirk of his kind was that they looked distinctly hybrid in ways that didn’t match others.

A dog hybrid may have the ears of a spaniel while a cat could have the tail of a Persian. Horse hybrids didn’t have any of their animal counterpart’s physical characteristics though, no tails or ears or anything like that. But their animal genes had manifested uniquely in their skin and hair.

If someone was a bay then they would have brown skin in a range of shades while their lower arms, legs and the space around their mouths and nose would be even darker and their hair a luscious black. Taehyung blended a little better than most other horse hybrids, but for others like Wheein, it was more obvious. Her skin was covered in patches of alternating dark and light while her natural hair grew in white and dark brown.

He knew that certain breeds had distinct characteristics as well. An old high school friend was a Friesian with coal-black skin and the most luxuriously thick, wavy black hair. One of his Taehyung’s siblings, on the other hand, had a Lipizzaner mare in his herd; her skin and hair was snow white. It certainly made them easily identifiable.

Taehyung wasn’t quite so obvious. His palomino colouring was visible; pale white hair that was a little too long and softly tousled matched with rich golden skin. Broad shoulders tapered down into a slim waist, currently covered in a loose white button-up. His hair was still wet, dripping onto his shirt while his strong thighs and calves were contained within equally loose-fitting tan trousers. 

He didn’t look like someone who’d just filmed pornography, but then again, what did that look anyway? Just a person? Still, he felt a small sense of satisfaction at how well he was going to blend. The last thing he wanted was to go home and have it look obvious what he’d just been doing, even if it was his job.

Chewing on his lip, he grabs his leather cross shoulder bag and exits the dressing room. He promised to get takeout tonight, and he wasn’t going to renege on that deal.

-

“I have food!” Taehyung calls out, placing the bag of takeout he’d just picked up on the kitchen counter before shrugging off his jacket. By the time he gets back from hanging it up, you’ve already emerged from your bedroom and are pulling plates out of the cupboard while trying to see what he’d gotten.

“What did you get? Chinese?” Looking up at him with a raised brow, Taehyung’s heart stutters for a moment at just how pretty you are. There’s not a trace of makeup on your face right now, you didn’t bother when you were at home, and yet you were still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Like him, you were also a hybrid. The two of you had met in the first class of freshman year in college and had quickly become best friends, despite the differences between you both. He’d also fallen deeply in love with you at some point, even though he knew nothing could happen.

Just as he was driven by the instinct to have sex with multiple women to form a herd, you were driven by your instincts. Only yours were dictated by your lovebird genetics, which meant that you were strictly monogamous. As in, once you entered a relationship and truly fell in love with them then you would never have another relationship.

The antithesis of a horse hybrid then. Taehyung had long known that it meant he would never be able to be with you the way he wanted. You craved monogamy and it simply wasn’t in his genes.

So he’d stayed your best friend, and for the last five years since finishing college, he’d also remained your roommate. The two of you shared a mid-sized apartment in the city centre, close to the university that you worked at as a music professor and within easy driving distance of his workplace.

“No, there’s a new Ethiopian place that’s opened close to work. Seokjin was telling me about it it’s a vegan restaurant and I thought it’d be cool to try it out. No idea what you’d like, or what I’d like, so I just got a bunch of things to try.” Smiling at you, he starts to pull out the carefully packaged food and chuckles as you ‘ooh’ at it all.

“Oooh, I’ve never had Ethiopian food before. I’m excited.” And then you turn that blinding smile onto him and he has to let out a deep breath as slowly as possible to stop himself from doing something silly. He’s long been used to his feelings yet you still make him feel like a teenager again.

Once everything’s out, the two of you take it over to the little table that’s set up between the kitchen and the living room and lay it all out. You quickly dart over to the fridge and grab some water for the two of you before settling down and humming in excitement as everything is unpackaged.

Like Taehyung, you didn’t have many physical attributes of your animal side. Which would have been exceptionally strange given the difference between humans and birds. What you did have though, were black irises to match your pupils and the most exquisitely beautifully coloured hair. The front was a blend of peach, yellow and red which slowly morphed into the familiar lovebird green.

It was all-natural and incredibly pretty, suiting your face and personality so well. The original purpose of lovebird hybrids had been as companions due to their loyalty to their partner alongside musical pursuits. Not everyone was great at music but more often than not, lovebird hybrids tended to excel at singing.

Taehyung loved to hear you sing. Or play the piano or any of the other instruments you’d learnt how to play over the years. You were practically a prodigy when it came to the musical arts and he would forever be in awe of just how talented you were.

Your singing was one of the reasons he’d fallen for you so quickly; your buoyant and always effervescent personality had made him determined to befriend the sweet lovebird hybrid in his class. But it was your singing that had truly captured his heart.

The sweet sound of your voice could be as light as a dandelion seed on a summer breeze or swell as loud and strong as a hurricane. He’d been immediately fascinated the moment he’d first heard you sing and it had never let him go. Taehyung genuinely couldn’t imagine his life anymore without hearing your singing around the apartment; from the quiet songs when you were concentrating to the ones you belted out when you were in a happy mood.

He loved it all. As cheesy as it would sound, he just knew that his life would be dull and quiet without his music-obsessed, colourful, chatty best friend. Which was why he couldn’t give up the small hope of something with you. It was a tiny chance, but as long as you remained unattached then it was there all the same and he would grab onto it tightly.

“Did your shoot go well today?” You distract him out of his wayward thoughts with your question and it takes a few seconds of it to truly penetrate his mind and for him to understand. Almost immediately though, it causes him to twist his lips as he begins to spoon out the food he wants from the containers onto his injera, Ethiopian flatbread, that covers his plate. He hated talking about his job to you. It was like a reminder of what he couldn’t have every time.

But he was a big boy, so he took in a deep breath before looking back at you and giving you his trademark boxy smile. 

“It went okay, nothing went wrong which is always a good thing. Wheein was nice and very pleasant to work with, good at her job. The script was just as bad as I originally thought.” Snorting at the memory, he takes a mouthful of food and chews thoughtfully as he takes in the new flavours.

“Let me guess...full of lots of over-the-top horse innuendos and dirty talk?” Chuckling to yourself, you take a drink of cold water before tilting to your head to look him over carefully. Taehyung pauses, unsure of himself for a second before quirking his brow at you.

“Yeah, something like that. I shouldn’t be complaining really...no one watches what I make for the dialogue.” He’s very aware that there’s a slight pout to his lips as he looks back down at his plate, missing the way your expression changes to one of sympathy and protectiveness.

“Well...true I guess, but you’re a great actor outside of that. And I’m not just saying that to you because you’re my best friend TaeTae. You’re genuinely good.” Now he does look at you, taking in the way you look at him with concern and he feels a flare of guilt rise in his stomach. Taehyung would never let you know that the only reason he’d started to work in the pornography industry during college was so that he could satiate his desires without dating multiple women or accidentally creating a herd.

The fact that he was still doing it, seven years after beginning, was because he still held out hope. He knew that he could’ve been something better, entered the world of television or film acting, maybe even theatre. But it would have meant having to flaunt an unending trail of women in front of you.

At least he had a valid and acceptable reason for fucking so many women as a pornstar. The fact that he had no emotional connection to the women who worked alongside him now was a bonus, allowing you to see that he was more than capable of leaving his work in the studio.

Giving you a tight smile, Taehyung nods his head in appreciation. “Thanks, chirp. I appreciate it. And I know, but I think it’s too late now. Too old, you know?” 

“Pfft, no way. There are loads of actors who didn’t start their careers until they were older! And no offence, but you’re a guy so you’ve got the kind of lifespan that most women aren’t allowed. You’re only twenty-nine!” The outraged response from you is almost immediate, the piece of injera almost flying out of your hand at your reaction.

Thankfully, you’d just eaten the vegetable wat that you’d scooped up already so there wasn’t any risk of the floor or wall being decorated with Ethiopian stew. That would just be a waste of some good food in Taehyung’s opinion.

But that was irrelevant. 

What was relevant was your vehement defence of Taehyung and his talents. The two of you had had this conversation many times over the years and yet it never failed to make him smile. You were adamant he could do better and he knew that he could too. But he didn’t want to. Despite how good his acting was, he had no real interest in actually taking it up as a career outside of porn.

He didn’t care for the lifestyle or travelling or fame. Porn worked well for him at the moment. It satisfied his instincts, it paid well enough and he had a manager that ensured Taehyung only received the best directors, co-stars and films.

What Taehyung would love to do, was to work in fashion design. He loved putting together interesting and unique looks while also thinking up ideas for clothes. His best friend, Jimin, had started a clothing brand of his own a few years ago thanks to the money his parents had loaned him. It was doing pretty well so far and Jimin was constantly sad that Taehyung wouldn’t join him.

The older man, he was only two months older but that meant everything to Park Jimin, had tried everything he could think of to lure his best friend into his company. From offering a creative director role to his sub-brand that would operate almost independently from the parent brand, Calico. And Taehyung had promised him that he’d accept one day.

He would as well. Just not yet. It wasn’t time yet. 

“Thanks. Anyway, how was your day? Didn’t you say you had some exams this morning or something?” His segue into another conversation works like a charm and you happily begin to complain about the exams that you’d given your freshman students today. It still boggled his mind that you’d willingly insert yourself into college life again, even if it was in a teaching role but you seemed to thrive in the social aspect of it all.

The two of you continue to talk until there’s no food left, every single piece happily was eaten. Admittedly, most of it was eaten by Taehyung as he had a far larger appetite than you did. It was even bigger today given the workout he’d done during his work hours but you’d been content to hand over what you didn’t want to eat anymore.

Or rather, you’d been content to feed him what you didn’t want. Something he’d had to get used to very early on in his friendship with you was that you retained the instinct to feed those you were close to. That’s what you’d told him anyway, though if he was to be entirely honest he hadn’t seen you feed anyone else before.

Then again, none of the friends you both shared in common was the kind of people who would accept being fed, no matter how much they liked you.

It’s a few hours later that you’re both ready to go to bed; eyes sleepy and movements slow after watching three episodes of The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina while curled up beneath the couch blanket as you both digest your food. Taehyung could have happily fallen asleep where he was, the warmth of you not close enough for him to feel but your scent strong enough to lull him into a peaceful slumber.

“I’m going to bed.” You say loudly, causing him to jerk awake quickly as you push the blanket off your body and stand up. It’s not as quick as you’d normally be but the stretch you give combined with the extraordinarily big yawn lets him know you’re pretty tired.

Not a surprise. It was after 11 pm now and you’d been up since 5:30 am to make sure you had everything set for your classes. A slight wobble as you lose your balance causes him to jump up, resting a hand on the small of your back gently to provide careful assistance while he reaches for the remote with his other to turn off the television.

“Careful, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” Taehyung chuckles, kicking away the blanket which had also become tangled around your feet. A quiet hum from you lets him know that you’re more tired than he’d initially thought.

Not saying anything more, he runs his free hand through the pale blonde strands of his hair as he directs you towards your bedroom. The door is closed to the outside world, unlike his, but the interior is familiar to him once you open it up.

One of the habits you had that came from your lovebird side was that you liked to nest. Which meant your bedroom had everything you loved arranged exactly how you wanted it. Your bed was a canopy style, completely cocooned away from the world except for the entrance. He’d been in once or twice to wake you up when you’d been late for something and he would admit to being fascinated by just how dark and...comfy it all looked.

Soft sheets, multiple fluffy pillows and more covered the top of your bed. He’d love to see what it was like to sleep in it one night because it looked like it could easily be one of the comfiest nights of sleep he’s ever had. A bonus would be if you slept next to him.

One of the more fortunate, or unfortunate depending on how you looked at it, aspects of his heritage was that Taehyung could sleep anywhere. He’d even been known to sleep standing up, which meant that he wasn’t that bothered about what his sleeping space looked like.

Taehyung knew it was something of an honour for him to be even allowed in your bedroom, to be honest, given how protective and territorial you got over your own space. It had been amusing for him to realise this at first, particularly given he wasn’t particularly bothered when it came to his own physical space but upon realising you wouldn’t let anyone else in, he’d used it as a badge of pride.

To himself, of course. No one else would care or even be surprised that your best friend and roommate was the only person allowed in.

Shaking his head, he wishes you goodnight before closing your door quietly and heading to the bathroom for his nightly ritual. The downside to being a porn actor was that he had to follow a proper skincare routine to make sure his skin looked the best. Because obviously, people were paying attention to his beautiful face instead of his massive dick.

Not.

Still, it helped to book more shoots. He had a ‘statuesque’ face that appealed to women or something. So he went along with it and had, admittedly, fantastic skin as a result.

The last thought before he finally fell asleep was that he was pretty sure the oversized black sweatpants you’d been wearing were his.

-

Taehyung doesn’t get to see a whole lot of you in the next few weeks. He’d ended up having to travel for a shoot that lasted a week and by the time he got back, you were on a much-needed vacation with your friends. As such, he was getting a little grumpy at the lack of interaction with you.

Which was entirely the reason that he’d almost jumped on top of you when you’d finally walked through the apartment door; three long weeks after seeing you last. You’d let him know that you’d be coming home today and he’d had to wait as patiently as he could on the couch, pouting at the fact you hadn’t accepted his offer of going to the airport to meet you.

But with everything in the apartment turned off, he’d used his superior hearing to the best of his abilities and had listened as hard as possible for your footsteps. After so many years, he knew exactly what you sounded like when you walked.

So when he finally heard that familiar beat, alongside the rolling of the wheels on your suitcase, he’d leapt up. There may even be a hole in the wall from how forcefully he’d yanked the door open, his excitement causing him to not pay attention to his strength for a moment before he’s giving you the biggest and brightest grin he possibly can.

“I missed youuuuuu!” Whining loudly, Taehyung wraps his arms around your waist and lifts. The squeal you let out soon dissolves into laughter when he spins you around, mentally marvelling once more at how light you were while his sense went haywire with you so close again. He could feel the softness of your hips as he lets you down, smell the soft peach of your shampoo along with the slight hint of sweat after so long travelling. 

It was perfect, and something deep within him relaxed.

You were home. You were safe.

“I missed you too, Tae! Can I please actually come in?” Your laughter is sweet, infectious as always and he stands to the side to let you enter the apartment. Without even asking, he gently takes the handle of your suitcase from you and lifts it with no complaints, heading over to your bedroom.

Given he’s not facing you anymore, he doesn’t see the way you practically swoon at the sight of him using his strength so casually. Or the way you almost drool at his broad shoulders in the plain white shirt he’d thrown on today, the muscles working in a way that made your hands twitch.

“Did you have a good time? Please tell me that Yeji doesn’t have some embarrassing story again this year,” While your yearly vacations with your friends were mostly for sunbathing and catching up, he knew that you all enjoyed re-enacting some college years and that copious amounts of alcohol were drunk. “And I’m not saying about you, I mean just embarrassing full stop. I’m still feeling secondary embarrassment over two years ago.”

“A story which will forever remain buried, thank you very much. But no, we were good this year. Or rather, we weren’t good but I think we’re starting to get a little too old to be drinking so heavily, you know? We can’t recuperate the same way and I get hangovers way too easily. I do not have the physiology to cope with their drinking levels!” There’s a slight whine to your voice, making him smile in amusement as he moves over to lean against the doorway of your room.

While he was fully welcome into your space, he knew that you liked it to be your own. Especially when you’d been away for a while.

“Well, I mean...you are a lovebird. I don’t think there are many alcohol-tolerant birds out there.” That gets him a subtle glare, your pretty lips puckered into a pout. It’s an innocent action, something that shouldn’t bother him in the slightest, and yet his heart stutters and his stomach twists on itself.

What he wouldn’t give to kiss you.

Shaking his head, he tries to force the thoughts out of his mind. Honestly, he was perfectly fine when he was away from you. But when you were around, it was like you were all he could think about. Still, it was hard not to when you looked at him so fondly.

“True. There’s no need to point that out though. Salt in the wound much? Anyway, it was fun. They kept trying to get me to swim in the sea but like...no thank you. Water is for drinking and washing, not for swimming around in.” You’re crouched down, unzipping your suitcase and pulling out the dirty clothes before separating them into the individual bins you have.

Unlike Taehyung, who simply separated his clothes when it came time to wash them, you were very tidy and had bought fancy clothes hamper with three sections. This was probably why Taehyung would accidentally end up with a shrunken shirt or pink underwear from time to time. You paid far more attention to that stuff.

“Swimming is fun though.” Is all he responds with, standing back when you carry the laundry hampers past him. Putting the colours into the washing machine, he watches quietly as you add everything before turning it on. It was fascinating how you’d only been home for less than ten minutes and yet you were already cleaning things up.

Not that he’d made the apartment untidy or anything. It’s just you had a different idea of what was clean to him.

“Okay but, you can say that because you’ve got those shoulders to cut through the water. Not to mention you’re strong anyway. Not so fun for the rest of us. And I don’t mind swimming in a pool. Where I can see the bottom and the size is posted. The ocean though? That’s huge. No thanks.” Smirking, he flops down onto the couch and sighs happily when you push him up before sitting down yourself, letting him rest his head on your thighs.

There was no convincing you though and Tae gave up on the argument pretty quickly, not that he was trying too hard. One thing he’d learnt long ago was that you were perhaps the most stubborn person he’d ever known. It was an endearing trait, most of the time.

“Did you audition for that role?” Your question is innocent, soft fingers trailing through his hair that would have him purring if he was a cat hybrid. Instead, it was just making him get the urge to groom you in turn, his fingers twitching with the need. Ignoring it, he forced himself to just enjoy the touch.

“Yeah. Not sure if I’ve got it though. I got the feeling they weren’t looking for someone like me in the role.” It wasn’t surprising really and he wasn’t offended by the producers of the film he’d gone for. Even porn wanted specific people for specific roles sometimes; it would be silly to think he could get every role he went for.

Not to mention exhausting.

“Well, they’re missing out then,” You say, scratching his scalp until he hums in delight. “Anyone who doesn’t want you is missing out.”

Your words make his heart jump, his breath stuttering as he inhales and wonders if there’s a double meaning to that. But you’re too busy watching the show that you’ve started on Netflix to notice Taehyung’s existential dilemma. Part of him is glad, but there’s another part that wishes he was brave enough to bring it up.

He chooses not to engage with it though, instead just sighing and letting himself relax into the cushions of the couch. It’s nice to be surrounded by your scent once more and to feel your warmth.

“I appreciate that, Chirp. But I’m not letting it get me down. Sometimes they just can’t handle all this.” Gesturing half-heartedly to his body, he’s pleased to hear you laugh at his joke. The sound is sweet, even if the two of you lapse into a comfortable silence after that. 

You’re too busy watching your show while he’s half dozing off, eyes closed and breath getting deeper as he starts to drift away. It’s comfortable on the couch, with the temperature just right and his body perfectly relaxed. Which means it’s unsurprising that he falls asleep pretty quickly, completely unaware of anything that’s happening around him as he sleeps.

-

Taehyung is more than a little disoriented when he finally awakens; the room dark and silent with the lights and television switched off. Frowning, he blinks rapidly before rubbing at his eyes with a hand while sitting up. Stretching his arms out above his head, the groan he lets out is one of relief as stiff muscles relax and a few bones crack.

Reaching out to the coffee table blindly, he grabs his phone and winces when the bright light almost blinds him. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been hugely blessed with the better night sight horses had. Well, he could see better than humans but nothing amazing. Didn’t make it any better when he was subjected to bright light suddenly though.

“Ah, fuck.” He curses, squinting until he can finally focus on the screen. It’s not too late, but it’s a good two hours or so since you’d finally gotten home. Frowning, he just sits there for a moment as his mind finally catches up with the fact he is awake.

Yawning loudly, he finally pulls himself up and decides he should probably go shower before collapsing into bed. Taehyung hadn’t even realised he was tired, but it could have been the comfort of knowing you were back and safe. It wasn’t like he was some over-protective asshole who needed to know your every movement - more that he just felt more content when he knew you were okay.

Walking to his room, he’s scratching at his exposed stomach lazily when he hears the sound of your voice. The door leading to your bedroom is firmly closed but there’s light at the gap on the bottom. His enhanced hearing means that he can easily hear everything you’re saying, which is nothing new.

Over the years though, he’s learnt to carefully block out anything you’re saying when you’re in your room. You deserved your privacy, even if he couldn’t help the fact that he could hear everything perfectly.

And that would have been exactly what he would have done right now. Just carried on through to his bedroom and continued with his plans. Only he can’t help but stop when he hears the familiar syllables of his name. Taehyung knows it’s wrong, but the way you said it is different than normal.

He can’t help but listen, expression curious and his head tilting without even realising it. Your conversation is one-sided but he pays careful attention, still in the middle of the hallway.

“-you know Taehyung, he’s always being attentive and sweet. It’s just his nature, he’s like that with everyone. Yuna...it’s just Tae. He hugs everyone, you’re looking too much into it,” There’s a longer pause now, presumably your best friend talking extensively to you. “Come on, isn’t that what you always tell me? We haven’t seen each other in a while, it’s not surprising he got all touchy.”

Taehyung frowns, lips twisting as he begins to understand a little. Or at least, he thinks he does. If he’s right, Yuna thinks that he likes you. His cheeks heat up as he realises how obvious he’d been with his feelings, even though you make a good argument against it. But you’re wrong and Yuna is very much right.

He does like you, and he’s not quite as touchy-feely with everyone else. Taehyung isn’t even sure how you got that opinion. The only other person he’s remotely as affectionate with is Jimin, and that’s only because he’s known the calico cat hybrid since they were babies. Tae’s mom had worked with Jimin’s mom for decades now, which meant they’d grown up with each other.

“Yuna,” Your whining now, voice going high pitched and your words getting longer. “I thought you were the one who was telling me that I need to get over Tae! And now you’re telling me he’s obviously into me? Make up your mind, woman! Do you want me to ignore my feelings for him or consider telling him? And no, you can’t backtrack in a week or so like you always do. This is serious. I’d be humiliating myself by telling him.”

It’s almost like the world has paused around Taehyung. For a second, he almost feels dizzy and has to rest a palm against the wall as he sways. Your feelings...for him? Did he hear that right? Was he twisting your words into what he hoped you were implying?

Before he can contemplate it anymore in his mind, you go on to say something that shatters the norm for Taehyung.

“It would be humiliating Yuna, you know that. You know what I am, we’ve talked about this. God, I can’t tell Taehyung I love him because then that’s it, I’ve sealed my fate and I won’t be able to get over him. It’s already hard just trying. Having him know? I can’t, not when he can’t give me what I want.” There’s a pain in your voice and his heart twists, stomach bubbling in a way that almost makes him want to vomit as his world changes.

You love him. You.  Love. Him.

“It’s not his fault Yuna, we’ve gone through this so many times. I have my instincts and he has his, I’m not going to get angry at something we can’t change. Please...can we just talk about something else? Something that’s not going to make me cry and spend all night thinking? We agreed that we’d try to get me over this, dammit.”

That’s the last thing Taehyung hears as he walks quickly back to his room, having decided that he’s heard far too much of a conversation he clearly shouldn’t have heard. Guilt roils in him, flooding his veins as he flops down onto his bed and stares at the white ceiling of his room. He feels dazed and confused, not sure what he’s meant to think about this sudden change in events.

Taehyung being in love with you was something he’d long ago accepted. But he’d also accepted that nothing would happen from it because of what you wanted in life. Finding out that you wanted him too was game-changing. It was also heartbreaking to know that the only reason you both weren’t together already was because of his instincts.

Suddenly, he sees his career in a whole new light. What was a coping mechanism for him to reduce his innate desires and allow him to give you all the best bits of himself, was probably pure pain for you. The knowledge that you loved him was both exciting and, surprisingly, horrifying.

He knew that love birds would only have one partner, and from what he’d read over the years it meant they only really truly loved one person. If you felt this strongly for Taehyung then did that mean he’d stolen any other choices from you? He’d been holding back to make sure you had a chance to be happy but had he just made it worse?

Swallowing thickly, Taehyung realises there are tears in his eyes as he wonders if he’s ruined everything. The logical part of his mind knows that it’s not his fault if you’ve fallen in love with him, just like it wasn’t your fault he’d fallen for you. But he certainly hadn’t done anything to truly push you away, to try and get you to find someone else to fall in love with and enjoy a happy life.

Had he been selfish? 

Rolling onto his stomach, he buries his head into his pillow and lets out a yell. It’s a good job your hearing is only on the level of a normal human because he was positive the extended noise he made would have brought you running otherwise. And he needed to think right now.

There’s probably a solid ten minutes of silence in his room as he lays there, unmoving while his mind races through all his options. If he admitted that he’d overheard you, then he would probably embarrass you. Taehyung would jump at the chance to finally date you, but he knew that you wouldn’t be able to cope with his career.

You were supportive of him now, but you weren’t in a romantic relationship with him. And he doubted you would be comfortable with the knowledge that he was coming home to kiss, cuddle and have sex with you after having done the same things with random women earlier in the day.

If he was honest with himself then Taehyung knew that he wouldn’t be happy with that too. Despite how he was raised, his mom had been one of many mares in the herd his father had kept over the years, he wanted to be the one for you. Which meant he wouldn’t be content to do things with other women that you only wanted to be done.

He wanted the traditional relationship that many horse hybrids would wrinkle their nose at.

So, he had to figure out how to navigate that.

Lifting himself, he grabs his phone and opens up Google. Taehyung didn’t know many horse hybrid’s who wanted to have a monogamous relationship, but he had met a few over the years. Racking his brain, he tries to remember what they had talked about when he’d queried how they could cope with only being with one partner for life.

Despite his interest in the topic, he’d been young at the time and had still very much enjoyed sleeping with as many women as he could. His feelings for you hadn’t quite become what they were today, so he hadn’t listened too intently. Taehyung regretted that now. Tapping his lips for a moment, he contemplates what to write before he begins to type his request into the search engine.

Horse hybrid hormone inhibitors.

-

It’s three weeks later when Taehyung finally feels comfortable and knowledgeable enough to make a move. He’d made an appointment with his doctor the very next day after overhearing your conversation. He specialised in hybrid care, in particular those for equine hybrids like Taehyung along with the rare donkey or zebra.

Which meant he wasn’t all that shocked at Taehyung’s unusual enquiry. He probably got the occasional query from an equine hybrid about how to be monogamous. It was rare but not unheard of after all. What had shocked him though, was the fact that it was Taehyung asking it.

Kim Taehyung, the infamous porn star who had built a living on his ability to fuck his way through multiple women on camera. Who had his damn fanbase based almost purely on his cock for god’s sake? It was embarrassing to think about, but he’d known what he was getting into when he’d signed the contract in the first place.

He wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t enjoy his job because he did. Taehyung hated that he did, but the sex with many women helped to alleviate all those deeply held instincts and urges within him. Still, now that he knew about you he had no intention of carrying on with his career. Not when he had a chance.

Which was why he’d admitted his feelings towards you to the doctor. Something he’d never thought he’d end up doing, but once everything was out in the open then his doctor was far more understanding of Taehyung’s request. Even encouraging of it. Taehyung was pretty sure that he found the whole story a little sweet and romantic.

Either way, they’d worked out a plan for him to make his life easier if you accepted him. Medications that he would need to take to reduce the overwhelming instincts that drive his hybrid nature and would allow him to engage in monogamy. The idea of that was unbelievably exciting and he’d begun to take his medication only days after the appointment.

After that, he’d gotten together with Jimin. Their weekly hangout usually occurred in a bar, a restaurant or sometimes just hanging around one of their apartments. His best friend had shrieked with delight when Taehyung had explained his predicament and what he was doing to go forward with.

Which had led him to finally asking Jimin if that job offer was still on the plate if everything went right. Taehyung wanted to finally pursue his dream of being a fashion designer and it was so tantalisingly close. He was on the verge of finally having the life he’d always wanted. Hopefully with you.

The first week of being on the medication, which reduced the high levels of testosterone he produced and helped to inhibit his base reactions, had been rough as hell. Taehyung had been on the verge of calling in sick for the first time to a shoot, his body struggling to cope with the change in his body. But he’d pushed through and two weeks later, here he was.

Nervous as fuck and waiting for you to finally come home. 

Everything all depended on if you’d accept his request to start a relationship. A serious, romantic relationship that was entirely monogamous. If you said yes, then he had a lawyer all set up to break his contract and a contract just waiting for him with Jimin.

Although really, he’d be quitting his job no matter what happened. He was tired of the porn scene, even if he’d met some wonderfully kind and talented people there. Taehyung had finally decided that he would be moving on with his life and accepting the job with Jimin.

It was up to you whether you wanted to be alongside him, and in what capacity.

The pizza he’d ordered for you both arrived at the same time you came home; a large box of vegetable pizza held in your hands and amusement in your pretty eyes. It makes him smile brightly to see you happy, knowing that you’re pleased he’d taken care of dinner tonight. Especially as it was from your favourite pizzeria; six different kinds of cheeses combined with peppers, onions, eggplant, tomatoes and spinach.

Your favourite kind of pizza, alongside a bottle of red wine that he’d already filled a glass with to let it breathe. The amusement soon turns to suspicion, your brow rising as you kick off your shoes and shrug off your coat.

“What’s all this about?” Gesturing at everything, you settle onto the couch next to him with your legs curled up beneath you. Taehyung bites his lip, sighing softly before reaching out and opening up the box. He doesn’t explain for a few minutes, just letting you both eat a slice of pizza while he watches his beer on the table.

He felt like a teenager, his stomach fizzing with a combination of excitement and nerves that almost makes him feel nauseous. Maybe he shouldn’t be eating right now, but he hasn’t been able to eat all day so far. There would be no use in making himself ill. It would be mortifying for him to throw up all over you.

By the time you’ve eaten two slices, Taehyung has only managed one. But he’s decided that he’s waited long enough. It’s time.

Taking in a deep breath, he lets it out slowly before clearing his throat. After so many years of being friends, he knows that he can talk to you about anything. There are many memories that he’d much rather forget that you’d seen of him, such as that awkward time when he’d had an upset stomach and hadn’t been able to get to the bathroom quick enough.

Not his finest moment and you’d gagged more than once but hey, it was all a bonding experience. Right? Or was that just his opinion on it? 

Still, Taehyung found himself pausing; his words sticking in his throat even as he mentally told himself to pull it together. You’d seen all his low points and his highpoints, he did not doubt that you would treat his question with the respect it deserves. But it was still a worry that you might turn him down.

Maybe you’d finally found someone else and wouldn’t want him anymore. The thought made his chest hurt, but he had to know. He had to get the answer to the question that had burned in his thoughts for years now. If you rejected him then he’d be hurt but he’d get over it, especially if it meant you found your happiness.

So why was it so hard to get the words out?

“Hey, are you okay?” Your shoulder bumps into his, pretty face dipping low to catch his eyes. He should have known that you would have realised there was something wrong, or that he wasn’t quite being himself. The way you look at him with such worry and concern makes his anxiety melt away, causing him to smile before he nods.

“I have something to ask you. I mean...you can say no. Please don’t worry about that, if you don’t want to then tell me no. I’ll accept it, I promise. You know I’d never try to force you, right?” He winces, realising that he’s messing this up already given the way your brow creases in confusion. “I mean, god I’m fucking this up. I’m sorry. I just...I have to be honest with you. I accidentally overheard your conversation the other month. I didn’t mean to, it was when you’d come home after your vacation and I’d fallen asleep so I was going back to my room and I overheard you.”

Taehyung is babbling, and he realises that when you gently press a finger to his lips. It would be nice to say that you didn’t look bothered, but there was fear on your face that made him feel sick.

“I believe you.”

Your words are so soft and he almost hums in delight as you run your fingers through his hair, grooming him without even realising. It makes him smile, both at your steadfast belief in him and how you always want to be touching and cleaning him in some way. His fingers itched with the desire to groom you in turn.

He restrained himself, fully aware that if he did then it’d just end up being one half an hour of you both trying to clean each other. The perils of two social hybrids who both have a culture and instinct for grooming. Not what he wanted right now.

The reassurance you give him, combined with the unwavering belief in your eyes, convinces him to just say it. To just get it out and lay his cards on the table. He was nervous, sure, but he’d been nervous many times in his life and he’d overcome all of those moments.

“I heard you say that you like me. In a romantic way. I was really surprised at hearing it, mainly because I didn’t think you’d ever looked at me that way before. Not when I’m the opposite of what you’d want in terms of a relationship. But I want you to know that hearing it made me the happiest I’ve been in a while. Because I like you too. And I have done for a while now. Years.” He says it all with a carefully neutral face, watching you carefully to see if he can gauge your reaction.

For a moment, your expression is a perfect picture in neutrality. The Switzerland of faces, giving nothing away and not letting him see anything that’s going on in your head. It’s frustrating for him when he’s probably feeling too much, but he doesn’t push. Just waits to see what you’ll say.

“What?”

Okay, so perhaps not the eloquent acceptance of his feelings that he’d expected. But it’s not an outright rejection. He can work with this, there’s potential here. 

Licking his lips, he takes a deep breath before carefully shifting until he’s facing you on the couch. Your eyes are so wide, shining in the light and making him think it looks like you hold the secrets of the universe deep within. He can’t help but smile at it, at how young and innocent you look.

Smile at the tentative hope he thinks he can spy.

“I like you, Chirp. Like, like you. Probably would use a stronger word if I wasn’t already afraid I’m scaring you away. I know that I’m not what you’d want in a partner, which is why I’ve never made a move over the years. But I’ve always hoped, which is why I never got a herd of my own,

“I love being around you, I love hearing you sing and laugh, I love talking to you, I love hearing you talk to others, I love how you’re so affectionate and always want to groom me along with chatting my ears off. I never said anything though, because most of all, I valued our friendship. And I knew that you wanted someone who could be your life-partner, something I wasn’t sure if I could be.” Taehyung pauses, twisting his lips before looking down at his hands.

“But then I heard you talking and I realised that there might be a possibility. A small one maybe, but I knew I had to at last try. Something I want you to know though is that everything I’m about to tell you that I’ve done has been done for myself because I finally realised that I have to move forward with my life. So, firstly, I talked to my doctor and I’ve started some medication that helps to inhibit my instincts when it comes to relationships and sex.” Pausing, he eyes you to gauge how you’re taking the news.

The head tilt you give is very birdlike, causing him to chuckle without even meaning to. He can’t help it though, not when you look so sweet right then with your bright hair and big eyes.

“I don’t have the urge to have sex with lots of women or make my herd anymore. We talked about it extensively and decided this would be my best course of action to allow me to have a healthy, monogamous relationship. Because of that, I’ve also quit my job and taken up the offer Jimin’s been giving me for years now.”

Despite the fact he’s mid-confession to you, the excitement in his stomach at that very moment is more to do with the fact he was going to finally have his dream career. That he was going to be doing a job which he’d been wanting to accept for years.

Understandably, his words cause you to suddenly gasp in delight before you’re clapping your hands eagerly. The excitement and happiness are purely for him finally taking proper control of his life, ridding himself of the pornography career that he’d enjoyed but hadn’t loved. Something you’d known for a while now.

“Oh my god? You’re going to work with Jimin?! You took the job! TaeTae, I’m so happy for you!” Even though he’d just admitted to you that he was near enough in love with you, your emotions were purely focused on the fact he’d taken the job. Feeling your approval and genuine joy at his life change, he can’t help but give you a wide, boxy grin even while the apples of his cheeks turn a soft rose.

“Thanks, I think Jimin was more excited than anyone to be honest. Pretty sure he’s already organising a design space for me in his building alongside an office. Makes me feel kind of bad for waiting so long to take him up on it but I feel like I’m finally at a place in my life that I’m truly ready for that career change.” That seems to remind you of what he’d told you earlier, about his medication.

Your elated expression slowly fades and he watches in trepidation as your brow creased, the mood dimming. Were you unhappy with his choice? Taking a deep breath, he holds it for a moment before letting it out slowly.

“I want you to know that there is no pressure on you. For anything. I’m going to continue taking this medication because I want to focus on my new career without having to worry about any urges taking over. The side benefit to it means that...well,” He pauses for a moment. “I can have a proper relationship. Or at least, the kind of relationship that you’d want. If you want that. With me.”

There’s complete silence in the room and Taehyung feels the sudden urge to grab another slice of pizza and start eating. Just for something to do with his hands and to distract himself.

He doesn’t push though, just lets you process what he’s told you. It was a lot, so he wasn’t even particularly expecting an answer tonight. If he were being honest, then he wouldn’t be surprised if you took yourself off to your room for the night. Or even went to one of your friends to talk it over with them.

But as usual, you surprise him. You may be small and dainty compared to him, light as a feather and full of cheer, but your personality has always been big and bold. Which is why you tackle the topic head-on.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear, you know that right?” Is your first question and Taehyung nods quickly, reaching out to encompass your much smaller hand with his own. There’s nothing too familiar about the gesture, just a squeeze of reassurance to let you know he understands and isn’t mad or anything.

“I know. It was entirely my fault. I should’ve carried on as soon as I heard that you were talking but I just heard my name and...well.” He trails off, giving an awkward smile that causes you to smile in return. The gentle pressure on his hand makes him realise that you’re now trying to assuage his fears that you were annoyed.

“Hey, it’s okay. You may not have too many physical features of your animal side but you’ve got plenty of their abilities. We both know that you can’t control the fact that you can hear much better, so I don’t blame you. Nor do I blame you for stopping to listen. Especially when you realised what I was talking about,” Now it’s your turn to look abashed, gaze skittering away from his and down to your still joined hands. “I’d have done the same thing if I heard you talking about me.”

Swallowing, Taehyung wonders how he’s meant to respond to that. He didn’t know what he’d say anyway as his stomach feels like it’s full of butterflies suddenly. Really big, horrible butterflies that are making him feel nauseous. 

“So yeah, I’m not angry or annoyed over that. Please don’t worry too much. If anything...I’m kind of glad. Because it means you’ve confronted this head-on and now we both know how we feel about each other. Which is that we like each other. A lot. In case it wasn’t clear, I like you too. Really like you. But I also thought it wouldn’t work because I know what I want and need from my partner in my life and I knew that your instincts clashed with that. Again, not your fault. You can’t deny nature and I tried to make sure that you never felt like I was.” There’s a hint of something in your voice but Taehyung can’t figure it out.

Pain? Embarrassment? Worry?

Whatever it is, he doesn’t get a chance to query it because you forge on. The sweet lovebird he’d known for years seems to be wavering between shyness at talking about your feelings and determination to have everything laid out.

He can understand the feeling.

“You know, I’ve fantasised about this for years, but now that it’s happening-”

“You don’t know how to communicate what you’re feeling and it’s all way more awkward and not nearly as romantic or sexy as you’d imagined?” Taehyung finishes for you, biting his lip as he grins broadly. You snort in amusement before nodding, playing with his fingers for a minute or so as you try to rationalise it all in your head.

“Did you go on whatever that medication is...for me? Like...because you wanted a relationship? With me? I know you’ve said it’s also because you wanted a career doing something you’ve always wanted but…” Trailing off, you can’t seem to look him in the eyes.

Carefully, he uses his free hand to lift your chin until he can see you. There’s a brief moment where you try to avoid his gaze before you give in, staring back just as deeply. Nerves, fear and hope are warring within him and he imagines that he can see it reflected in your own eyes.

“I’m not going to say no because overhearing your conversation was what spurred me to talk to my doctor. Finding out that you liked me back and that I might have a chance with you made me want to try to make sure you get the best of me. I knew that there are horse hybrids out there who have monogamous relationships and who are happy, but I didn’t think that would be a possibility for me. And given what I was doing for my career, I thought it was just better to carry on as I was,

“But then when I was talking to him about it all, I realised that it would help me in other aspects of my life too. Yes, I could finally offer you the kind of relationship that you want and that I want to have with you, but it would also let me leave behind the porn and start focusing on what I want to do. You know that I’ve never really been one of those stallions who wants a herd and the porn helped me to get rid of those urges without giving in to them properly. I looked into it for you, but I took it for me.” Licking his lips, Taehyung realises that he feels lighter.

Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he realises it’s because of what he’d told you. He’d been convinced that he was doing this to have a chance with you in the way he’d always dreamed of, but it was startling to realise that it was having such a positive effect in the rest of his life. For once, he was no slave to his instincts and had full control over himself, his emotions and his desires.

Just the thought of never having to do another film filled him with joy and happiness.

“Good. I wouldn’t want you to have changed yourself for me. But given that you have...what does it mean? Tell me.” Those pretty eyes, so big and wide, watch him intently and he gives a small half-smile as he shrugs with one shoulder.

“I mean...it’s basically like an inhibitor I guess? Reduces the amount of testosterone I produce, makes me less reactive to the scent of mares in heat and all that. There’s a whole bunch of medical stuff that I don’t understand but I just know what the doctor told me. It’s safe, it’s been tested many times before, and if things don’t work out, then I can come off them and be back to my old self. It just means that I won’t have the desire to have a herd or to...well sleep with multiple women, you know? Let’s be monogamous, a one-woman man. Finally.” Chuckling to himself, he runs his fingers through his pale hair so it’s out of his eyes.

“So...we could be together? Like...in a relationship? Just me and you?” 

“Yeah. The doctor said that as long as I’m on the medication then I’ll be like any other human or hybrid who doesn’t have a poly instinct. Not that there’s anything wrong with that obviously, but it means we can be together. In the future, if you want to be in a relationship or something...then if we decide to have kids or to not have them, I can get gelded and that’ll get rid of the instincts permanently.” Now your eyes widen in horror, hand covering your mouth as you gasp loudly.

“Gelded? They’d castrate you?” There’s a glance down from his face to his groin from you and he can’t help but laugh at the thought. Even if it does make him want to cup his balls protectively.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay! It’s okay! It’s just a vasectomy. Because I’m a stallion, it’s called being gelded. After that, I’d be officially known as a gelding. No longer able to have babies and with no real instinct to make my herd anymore.” Thankfully you look relieved at that and he wants to tease you about being so worried about his testicles. But instead, he just feels happy that you don’t tease him in turn about talking about potential babies already.

That’s a good sign.

“Okay. Okay...so, let’s think about this logically. I mean, is that being too cold? You admit that you like me back and you’re on medication to allow us to be in a relationship and I’m saying we need to think logically?” Taehyung pauses you with a finger to your lips, a smile on his own before he carefully wraps his arms around your shoulders.

He makes sure to give you plenty of time to make sure that you can pull away if you want to if you’re not comfortable with this, but you don’t. Instead, you almost seem to relax into him and link your arms around his waist. You can probably feel his heart beating through his chest, the muscle working extra hard while he feels a little breathless.

It’s not the first time he’s held you, but it feels different this time. There’s something more intimate about it and he can’t help but take a deep breath in, enjoying your scent.

“It’s fine. I’m kind of glad because I’ve made a complete mess of explaining myself here. So at least one of us can think more logically about it.”

“You didn’t do a terrible job. I mean...I’m certainly not going to vote for you or anything but it wasn’t bad. My question to you then...are we dating now?” And just like that, Taehyung’s breath is taken away. To the point, he almost chokes on his spit and ends up having a coughing fit.

Directly into your face, ruining any hint of romance.

Yep, he’d truly fucked this confession up. Taehyung was just lucky that you’d known him for so long that it just made your nose wrinkle as you wiped at your face with your shirt, grumbling lightly before pushing his shoulder.

“Gross.”

“Sorry! I wasn’t expecting that though! I mean, you just straight up asked. I was expecting like...more talking and exchanging feelings. More awkwardness.” Leaning away from him, you give him a very droll stare that makes him wince. Well, at least it was awkward now.

“Sorry for not living up to those weird expectations I guess? I just figure that we’ve spent long enough dancing around each other, right? I don’t want to waste any more time or have any more miscommunication so if it’s too abrupt for you then I’m still not sorry. I like you, Kim Taehyung. And given what you’ve told me, and what you’ve done for me, I want to finally have that relationship I’ve been wanting for so many years.” The authoritative tone in your voice is more attractive than he’d expected, causing his brow to rise. 

Feisty.

“Okay. Yes. Yes, we’re dating. Together. We’re together. Boyfriend and girlfriend. I need to shut up.” Clamming up, he forces his mouth to shut and for his muscles to remain still. In reality, he wants to jump for joy and scream out that this was happening. Even if part of him is embarrassed that he’s incapable of talking now.

It’s all worth it though when you give him a huge smile, so big and bright and full of happiness.

“You’re cute, you know that?” Now he’s blushing; cheeks high and a delightful rose as he tries to contain his smile. He’s supposed to be cool, the epitome of an educated man who is extremely experienced around women. And yet here he is, acting like a teenager getting his first girlfriend.

“Not what I normally get called.” You’re the one who looks a little shy at that, your eyes darting away from his as you bite at your lip. There’s a hint of nerves to you now and something else, something he can’t quite figure out. The way you wiggle slightly in place has him frowning in confusion, wondering what’s made you suddenly so quiet. This was the behaviour he’d been expecting from you, so it felt a relief to finally get it but also strange given how confident you’d been.

“What’s wrong? Where’s my bold girlfriend gone?” Gently poking your waist, he tries to ignore the thrill that rises inside him when he calls you that. It was going to take some time to get used to it.

Thankfully, it also manages to breakthrough whatever shell you’d suddenly formed around yourself. Grasping his hand with your own, you let out a soft whine as he continues to prod at you and he quickly intertwines his fingers with your own. For a moment, he’s too busy staring down at your hand in amused awe to remember what he’d asked you.

“Your hand is tiny, you know that?”

“No, you just have huge hands. All of you is huge, just like all of me is small. The difference between a horse and a lovebird.” Now it’s your turn to push at his stomach, a small smile on your face. Taehyung grins at that, but he grins, even more, when he catches your eyes flicking down to his lap.

It all clicked into place in his head, from the way you got shy at him saying he’s not normally called cute to the way you call him huge. You’re not wrong; Taehyung is massive when compared to you. Denser bones add to it at all, allowing him to lift and move heavy weights with ease whereas you’d developed a lighter bone structure that was more reminiscent of birds.

Taehyung had never broken a bone before, whereas you had to be careful doing certain things. But the size difference between you both was made even more obvious when he thought about sex. He was bigger than most human and hybrid males down below, and he wondered if there was something wrong with him that the knowledge you knew that turned him on.

Not that you’d ever seen him naked or anything, but you weren’t stupid. He was infamous in the porn industry for a reason.

Which suddenly made him consider something, his head tilting slightly as he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Have you ever watched my stuff? Like my films or anything? I know for a fact that some of them are on those free porn sites.” Biting his lip, he watches closely for any positive sign. One of the benefits of being a horse hybrid was that he was highly attuned to microexpressions in others.

Originally meant to watch out for danger and keep himself safe, it was more useful for getting an idea of where a conversation was going. It also made Taehyung feel very stupid that he’d never noticed you were in love with him before.

He doesn’t need to have any extra abilities to read your face right now though, not with how you look almost like you wish the floor would swallow you whole. You can’t even meet his eyes and it delights him.

“You have!” 

“No! I wouldn’t do that, you’re my best friend. That’d be weird.” Taehyung can sense the distress in your voice and he forces himself to tone down. He had no issues with the idea of you watching his stuff; if anything it was a turn on. But this relationship was so new that it had barely been born and he didn’t want to push your boundaries just yet. 

Still, he felt like he had a right to know.

“Hey, listen to me, it wouldn’t bother me if you did. I actually would find it a turn on to know you’ve watched me. I hope you weren’t upset though, I only did all of that to satisfy my instincts so that I could enjoy my time with you. But I made those films and videos for people to enjoy. If you got off to some of them that I’d consider it a job well done. Don’t feel embarrassed if you did.” Using his free hand, he lets his fingers trail along your cheek. It’s warm beneath his touch, the blood rushing in response to your tumultuous emotions and he reassuringly runs his thumb across it.

“You’re...you’re not bothered by the idea of that?” 

Taehyung chuckles at your disbelief and shrugs genially, making sure to portray an aura of calm and serenity. The only thing that bothered him about the idea of you watching his videos was that he was already sporting a semi at the very thought of his supposed ‘innocent’ best friend watching him railing some mare.

Which should be a terrible thought, but it just meant that he was all the more experienced for you. There would be no doubt in his mind that he could show you a world of pleasure that you’d never even imagined; as pompous and egotistic as that sounded.

Sex was his area of expertise though.

“I mean...I knew it was a risk when I started. I make porn. Porn is available freely on the internet and I fully expected some of my friends to be at least a little curious. Plus, there’s the whole ‘horse hybrid’ thing going on. I don’t tend to get embarrassed easily around sex. If anything, it’s kinda exciting knowing that you’ve seen some.” You’re giving him a look of pure confusion and he can’t help but laugh heartily. 

Oh, he loves you. He loves how befuddled you are at his refusal to adhere to your expectations. Given how reserved you were normally about sex and relationships, it was delightful to shatter your illusions surrounding him and make your perusal of his work sound like a benefit rather than something to be ashamed of.

“So...what did you think? You’ve never given me a rating before, so I’m curious.” Once more, your eyes dart away from his and he has to stifle a snort at how you suddenly find the wall so interesting. The artwork on there was nice, he’d picked it out himself, but it wasn’t that nice.

He doesn’t push though. What he wants is for this relationship to start on trust and honesty. So if you want to trust him enough to be honest about your opinion then he’d accept that. If it was still too early for you; he’d accept that too.

“It was good. I mean, I haven’t watched much. It was years ago and only a few minutes before I felt weird. Like I was spying on you. That’s it though! I swear I haven’t seen anything else. It felt like I was...perving on you or something.” Grasping at his hands desperately, you give him such big eyes that try to get across your honesty.

It makes his lips quirk in amusement and he links your fingers together once more, squeezing lightly. For a few moments, he considers how to respond to you before deciding to just go for it. Which means he slowly leans forward to you, eyes flicking down to your lips and giving you plenty of chances to pull away and leave.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s a little bit of a relief, knowing you’ve seen at least something. But most importantly...can I kiss you?” Taehyung swears you deflate, your entire body seeming to relax with a deep breath you let out.

He’d be worried if it wasn’t for the huge grin that you have painted on your face now, the delight making your skin almost glow with health and happiness. It’s a beautiful look and he feels like he’s enraptured once more, falling in love with you all over again. At least now he has an outlet for these mushy feelings.

“Finally!” 

There’s only time for Taehyung’s eyes to widen in shock before you’re shaking your hands free of his own and grasping at his shirt. With a surprising amount of strength, you jerk him forwards and his lips crash against your own. That’s the only way to describe it, as it kinda hurts. His lips mashed against his teeth a little and his nose bumps against yours, causing him to whine.

You let him go almost immediately, looking intensely embarrassed as you rub at your mouth and nose. He does the same, making sure that there’s nothing wrong with his beloved nose while licking at his lips to soothe the dull ache. But then he can’t help but laugh, the sound bright and rumbling up from his chest as he contemplates what just happened.

Every time that he thought you would zig, you instead zagged. Over the years, he’d learnt to go with the flow with you in regards to this with his friendship but for some reason, he’d never quite realised that it would be much the same with a romantic relationship. You defied his expectations and made him feel like he was constantly on his toes.

He loved it, including when almost headbutted him with your first kiss.

“I am so sorry-” You start, your eyes wide and worry emanating from you. He shakes his head, trying to stifle his amusement before reaching out and cupping your face with a gentle touch.

“Okay, how about we try this again but...a little slower this time, yeah?” Keeping your face steady, he inches forward until he can feel your warm breath on his cheek. You’ve already closed your eyes in anticipation and he has to squash the desire to grin, instead fulfilling both of your wishes by pressing his lips against your own.

It’s a soft and gentle kiss at first, exploratory and uncertain. Neither of you knows how to kiss the other properly, or what the other likes, and so you both simply...take your time. Taehyung’s thumb strokes along with the softness of your cheek while your hands flatten against his chest, palms hot where they rest.

He’s kissed a lot of women in his life; some he’s proud of, some he’s not and some he doesn’t even care about. But this is the best kiss so far. Even as slow and unsure as it is, it’s still the best.

Because it’s you.

There’s more than a hint of inexperience in your kiss and it doesn’t surprise him. He knows that you’ve at least kissed a few people before, but you didn’t have a huge amount of experience in it. Instead, it’s just enough that he feels comfortable but not enough to have you take the lead.

So he does, instead. And given how bold you’d been earlier, he takes the initiative to be bold this time as well. 

With almost minimal strength required on his behalf, he slips his hands down to your hips and grips them tightly, lifting and depositing you onto his lap without breaking the kiss. He doesn’t even make a noise as he does so, your weight nothing to him.

His ancestors had been bred for heavy lifting and pulling, after all.

What he doesn’t anticipate though, is the way you moan into his mouth or how you wiggle slightly at his action. Pulling from you, one brow lifts as he looks you over inquisitively. His question is silent, but you understand it immediately. There’s nowhere for you to look now, not when you’re so close to him.

So you stare at his chin instead, carefully avoiding his eyes as your hands move to play with his soft hair. The blonde strands are almost golden instead of platinum in the soft light of the nearby lamp, just visible in his vision from where you stroke them.

“I forget how strong you are sometimes.” The words are muttered and he gets the impression that you’re hoping he doesn’t hear. And that he won’t query it further. But he does, of course, he does.

“Do you have a strength kink, Chirp?” 

“Wha-no! That’s, why would I-” Spluttering, you lean back a little and take a moment to shuffle until you’re more comfortable on his lap. Your legs are on either side of his now, comfortable in their almost kneeling position but most of your weight is on his legs. He takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist and tug you closer, enjoying the warmth you give him.

“It’s cool if you do. I can fulfil that. Not yet though, if that’s okay. But I need you to know something right now. I don’t want us to have sex right now. Not yet. Since being a teenager, I’ve been obsessed with sex. An unfortunate side effect of being a stallion. For the first time in my adult life...I don’t feel an insatiable need for it. And it’s kinda nice. I don’t want us to start our relationship with sex. I want us to explore each other and our relationship first and then introduce sex. I need to learn that sex is something intimate and between only us now. I’ve spent too long viewing it as work.” He tries to make sure that his words are carefully said and that he’s not rushing them, but now he’s the one a little nervous.

You’d been far bolder than he’d ever expected and now he was worried that you might expect sex from him immediately. It was an easy, even acceptable, assumption to make given what he was and his career. But he didn’t want that. As he’d said, he wanted to start this relationship with love and trust.

Lust could come later.

There’s no answer from you for a moment and he sighs, letting his hands awkwardly stroke at your sides in an attempt to give them something to do.

“I’m sorry if that’s not what you were expecting. Or not what you wanted. I’m a little surprised you’ve been so forward with me and-” A soft fingertip presses against his lips, causing him to quieten instantly.

Smiling softly, you lean forward and kiss him. It’s just as chaste as the one previously, only you’ve controlled yourself a little more compared to your first attempt. He takes solace in it though and now his body is the one deflating. There’s a silent acceptance in that kiss.

When you finally pull away from him, he finds himself chasing after you. It’s an odd sensation for him to do that without any intention of going further but he finds that he likes it. There’s no doubt that you can feel what’s going on in his pants; he can’t control everything after all but just because his body is saying yes doesn’t mean his mind is.

And you accept that. He can tell instantly, from the reassuring smile you give him and how you embrace him so warmly and carefully. 

“It’s okay, Tae. I’ll admit to being a little disappointed but I can understand your reasoning behind it. And I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to. I know you’d do the same for me. I guess it’s just going to make it better when we finally do get to it, right?” Teasing him, you stick your tongue out and poke at his cheek.

Almost immediately, his nose wrinkles and your laugh lightly. For a moment, the sounds are almost like chirping and he can see your lovebird origins so clearly. That was to say nothing of the fact that you were now subconsciously grooming his hair, fingertips running through the platinum strands and getting rid of any unfortunate kinks or knots.

“Thank you.” He whispers, letting his hands wrap around your waist until he’s hugging you. It takes minimal effort to have you plastered against him, head resting on his shoulder as he embraces you so tightly. You smell heavenly, and he wonders what he did to be given the chance to be with you after so many years.

“Can we go on a date though? I mean...like now?” Tilting his head back, he frowns before looking at the table and the pizza boxes.

“What? Where? We’ve already eaten?”

“Okay, but I’m kinda horny and you’re kinda horny and I think we both need to talk a walk and cool down. So...how about we have our first date? I’ve been waiting a while for this, Kim Taehyung.” Your smile is so big and bright, dazzling him and making his stomach flutter.

He doesn’t even realise he’s nodding until you practically launch yourself from his lap, rushing over to the door and chattering away. If he was being honest, he had no idea what you were talking about as you quickly pulled your shoes on and sorted out your bag.

Taehyung didn’t even care, because he’d done it. He had the girl he’d been in love with for years, who he’d been certain he had no chance with. You could regale him with a thousand and one tales and he’d listen to them all with a content smile because he was yours, and you were his.

#armiesnet #networkbangtan #ficswithluv #smutcentralnet #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #v smut #v fluff #v angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fanfiction #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung hybrid

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 317: My Boy Was Just Like Me

Previously on BnHA: AFO randomly blew up Lady Nagant as a good reminder of why you should never make a deal with this fucking guy, smdh. Hawks was all “well if it isn’t my two best friends, Deku and Lady Nagant, both of whom I respect and love tremendously.” Everyone was all “??” and Horikoshi was all “shh... just pretend” because it was too embarrassing for him to admit that he forgot to write a couple of set-up flashbacks I guess. Anyway so Hawks got Lady to tell them where AFO was hiding out, and everyone said goodbye to her and Overhaul, who never did get to see his boss (sorry buddy, I’ll send you a vial of my tears in the mail), and headed out to a house in the woods. AFO was all “hello Deku :) :) it sure is fun making you suffer :) :) :) anyways this is a trap”, and blew up the house. Yeah, we all here are getting reaaaaaaaal tired of your shit, AFO.

Today on BnHA: The Hawksquad and Edgeplatoon meet in a warehouse and are all “what should we do about the fact that everything sucks?” Mt. Lady is all “here’s a thought, what if we tried battling AFO with more than six people.” Hawks and Endeavor are all “great initiative, but just a friendly reminder that our friends also suck and would probably betray Deku which would suck further still.” Shouto is all “ANSWER THE PHONE DAD” and Endeavor is all “[IRONICALLY DOESN’T ANSWER THE PHONE].” Meanwhile over in Sadtown, capital of Sadland Prefecture, Japan, Deku is all “All Might, as you can clearly see I am completely fine and good, never been better in fact, definitely not caught up in the throes of an epic mental breakdown which is shutting me down emotionally, anyway so on that note I would like to leave you now goodbye!!” All Might is all “[can’t actually form any words because he’s too distraught].” Fandom is all “o(╥﹏╥)o.” Horikoshi is all “(*＾-’) 乃 [pew pew finger guns and barrel rolls into the darkness].”

sweet jesus lord

this literally doesn’t even look like Deku anymore?? this looks like Dark!Deku who shows up to fight you in that one room in the Water Temple. he looks like he’s about to crawl out of my television set and murder me with his psychic powers good lord

holy shit lmao Horikoshi is really just shrugging his shoulders and resolving last week’s cliffhanger with a single line of dialogue

fire is no one’s weakness. idk what other options you’ve got, AFO, but you’re gonna have to go back to the drawing board. maybe try bees or something. I’m just saying. we’re all expecting fire at this point but nobody is expecting bees

anyway so now they’re all sitting in some warehouse somewhere chatting about it I guess. shoutout to Horikoshi for finally giving my man Edgeshot some more dialogue at long last

well, Edgeshot, to answer your question, she exploded. so naturally she’s fine

nah just kidding, Hawks says she won’t be able to help them out much because she’s recovering from being exploded. this is the part where we all ignore the fact that Hawks got set on fire for like a full ten minutes back during the War arc and was only in the hospital for a day. anyways enjoy your temporary plot hiatus Nagant

man there’s a lot of dialogue here and I’m trying to figure out where to insert commentary but it’s kinda difficult lol. basically, Edge and the others are saying that they should gather up the other remaining heroes and get them all caught up on the whole OFA situation. which, hmmmm

like on the one hand, these guys definitely aren’t going to cut it on their own, so it’s a reasonable suggestion on the face of it. but on the other hand, do we really want to entrust the OFA secret to a bunch of other people, most of whom shat the bed during the War arc to be quite frank? is it really worth the additional risk? especially given that any one of them might go spilling the beans to the public -- or worse, betray them to AFO??

also just a quick side note here, Mt. Lady’s character development never ceases to delight me. she’s become so committed to her responsibility as a hero these days, and it fucking suits her. I genuinely consider to be one of the elites now. I mean it doesn’t hurt that all the other elites are fucking dead lol but still

wait what? Death Arms retired??

Death Arms as in the guy who was too afraid of a little fire to try and save a terrified 14-year-old kid who was slowly suffocating right before his eyes?? that Death Arms???? color me surprised. shocked, I tell you

...okay but holy fuck

Death Arms. bro. my expectations for you were low but holy shit. like I’m sorry, but I don’t even have it in me to try and pretend like I feel the slightest bit of sympathy for him or Old Man Samurai or any of those other guys today. thanks for a whole lot of nothing my dude. good riddance

(ETA: so I’m rereading this the next day and realize this comes off as kind of harsh, so let me just try to clarify. it’s not the fact that he’s quitting that bothers me, to be honest. it’s the fact that he’s quitting specifically because he feels like the public is being mean to him. that’s it.

seriously. it would be one thing if he was quitting because he was scared, because now that is human. nobody wants to die, and I doubt any amount of training can ever fully prepare someone to go up against that fear. but the thing is, he never once mentions that, or talks about the danger aspect. instead, I got the distinct vibe from this speech that Death Arms is one of those people who only became a hero because of the limelight. and I just don’t have any patience for that. if all you care about are likes and subscribes then go become a fucking youtuber or some shit. nothing wrong with that! but you didn’t; you signed up to be a hero and protect these people. they gave you their respect and admiration because they trusted you to protect them. and now that they’re no longer in the mood to worship and applaud your every move on account of them being scared shitless because they’re living in the literal end times, you decide to dip. so like okay, fine then. don’t let the door hit you on the way out. anyways lol sorry for the rant.)

anyway so yeah. perfect example of why I don’t exactly have a ton of faith in most of the remaining heroes out there lol. also let me just once again give a shoutout to my best girl Mt. Lady whom I suddenly find myself appreciating all the more

“please calm down makeste. drink some water and enjoy this fresh new jeans pun” listen Horikoshi don’t tell me what to do dammit

fine. it is a nice pun, I guess

-- damn so now Endeavor’s saying that the media is already being fed info by the retired heroes. so for some of these guys it wasn’t enough for them to abandon all the people they swore to protect and to leave their fellow heroes out in the cold; they decided they might as well actively make things worse for them while they were at it, huh. like I get wanting to spill all the dirty secrets from your old job that you just quit, but this isn’t Jeff Bezos you’re screwing over, this is a sixteen-year-old kid

-- like, yes!! this, right here!!

exactly!! let’s not forget that there are already two prior instances of this happening. Endeavor arguably deserved it, but Katsuki not so much

huh. Endeavor seems to have a more optimistic outlook regarding this than I do lol

I mean, this is the same public that didn’t hesitant to blame a kidnapped child for his own kidnapping, and then later on for being the downfall of the Symbol of Peace. but okay then

anyway so blah blah blah, more talk about how they need to use Deku as bait, which basically puts them back at square one, and then they’re all just trailing off into silence and sitting around in the dark lmao this is getting very depressing

SKDJFLSDKJ:LFKJ

SHOUTO?????

NOOOOOOOO ARE YOU KIDDING ME

OH HOW THE TURNTABLES OMG. THE GHOSTER HAS BECOME THE GHOSTEE. Endeavor you petty son of a bitch. and what a brutal cut to that flashback too. “let’s stop Touya together” nah Shouto I’ve got a better idea why don’t I abandon you in U.A. and sally off with Hawks and Jeanist to found the “let’s pretend like we’re doing something to help Deku” club, which basically consists of us sitting around making terrible decisions all day long

Shouto, honey. you deserve better my little Coca Cola can. .........but if you really do have something important you need to tell your dad you could just text it to him. all the love and support, hugs and kisses, you’re doing amazing sweetie. but if you need to pass on any vital information you can just write it down and hit send honey that’s all I’m saying love

now he’s getting another call?? -- or, no, Hawks is getting a call from All Might

ARE YOU FOR REAL HAWKS OMFG

so while you all were sitting around talking about how useless you are, the kid you’re supposed to be protecting was battling another hired gun. I see. please pardon me for one second, I have a phone call to make. the phone call is to RockLockRock and Manual. the reason for the call is to apologize for calling them the worst bodyguards ever back during the War arc. the reason for the apology is because it turns out I WAS SEVERELY MISTAKEN OMFG

JESUS CHRIST DEKU DID YOU JUST KILL THIS MAN LMAO

shoutout to Horikoshi for offscreening this fight. we get it, lol. Deku strong and scary, villains ineffectual and feeble, and AFO... [checks notes] yep, still a dick. the angst arc continues

-- the angst arc continues, SIR

jesus christ I may have to rethink all of my opinions about Deku being framed for murder in movie 3 lmao. never mind. he did it, your honor

holy fucking shit Deku. “he might blow up, so please be careful” fdlskjflk jlskdjflk lwkejflk anyway so I��ve decided the explosion running gag can stay, actually

DEKU WAIT YOU FORGOT YOUR LUNCH!!

lol why do I get the feeling some serious shit is about to go down. ALL MIGHT NEVER MIND BACK OFF I THINK HE NEEDS HIS SPACE

OH MY FUCK I GASPED OUT LOUD

NO NO NO. I KNEW THIS WAS COMING GODDAMMIT BUT NO. NEVER MIND, I CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT IT, I’M NOT READY TO CRY TODAY

shit. shit shit shit shit and OF COURSE all I can fucking think about is that stupid fucking prophecy and gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Deku please. please please please if you really are going to leave All Might here, please be so very careful in choosing your farewell words to him now because have this sudden horrible fear that this might be the last time you ever see him alive and oh god. oh god oh god

DEKU NO, YOU’RE REALLY NOT!?!?

I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE LESS FINE IN MY LIFE, ACTUALLY????

holy shit. and the fucking callback to the prophecy now. just in case we forgot. WHICH FYI, WE DIDN’T. but that’s basically confirming that this is all still very much on the table and HORIKOSHI NEVER FORGETS oh my god someone please hold me

and the fact that Deku’s flashing back to it now too, though?? because he never forgot either, because of course he didn’t, and now all this stuff is happening, and AFO’s words are getting to him, and this is literally his worst fear come to life and so of course he’s distancing himself from everyone, and now it’s finally come to even this. even the person he admires most

-- OKAY NO, FUCKING COME ON ALREADY I CAN’T TAKE THIS

I GET IT OH MY GOD, I ALREADY UNDERSTAND THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT OF THIS MOMENT WITHOUT ALL OF THE DEVASTATING FLASHBACKS THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!! YOU ACTUALLY DO WANT ME TO CRY, HUH, IS THAT IT. THIS MAN THAT HE THINKS OF AS A FATHER, THIS MAN WHO HAS BEEN EVERYTHING TO HIM SINCE HE WAS A VERY YOUNG CHILD. EVERYTHING THEY’VE BEEN THROUGH, JUXTAPOSED AGAINST EVERYTHING DEKU IS UP AGAINST, EVERYTHING THAT’S AT RISK. LET’S JUST PUT IT ALL SIDE BY SIDE. LET’S JUST PILE ON ALL OF THE FEELS

(ETA: just a quick note that even though some of the posts I’ve read have described these as All Might’s flashbacks, I’m pretty sure they are Deku’s. most of these are scenes that only he was there for, so yeah. even though All Might is the one thinking the thoughts on the next page, the flashbacks are what’s running through Deku’s mind right now, and so we’re getting that emotion from both of them, which makes it extra devastating lol.)

wait, what???

WHAT??? do you really think that’s why he’s been so determined to protect you this entire time?? simply because you’re his successor?

-- oh no wait lol I think I got that mixed up, this is All Might saying that Deku feels the need to protect him. well that makes more sense lol

oh my god I cannot

his last words. his last words to him. and we can’t even see if he is smiling, like All Might always encouraged him to do. but what are the odds he can’t actually bring himself to do it. what are the odds he’s actually crying. oh god this scene is going to rip my heart out and STOMP on it in the anime isn’t it. Deku’s VA is going to full on murder me with emotion. not that there’ll be much of me left to murder after the thorough job that Horikoshi has already done here

YOU’RE CRYING. DEKU IS LEAVING ALL MIGHT AND IGNORING HIS OUTSTRETCHED HAND AND YOU’RE CRYING. AND BY “YOU” I MEAN “ME”, FUCK

nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope no words just feels just a big ol’ pile of feels. I do not have the strength. future me... [broadly gestures] good luck with all that

(ETA: LOL, WELL THEN.

what breaks my heart here is All Might. All Might, and everything he’s been through, and history repeating itself, and forcing him to live this moment from both sides because he wasn’t strong enough to fix things.

Toshinori had only just turned eighteen when Nana died. like, I feel like we don’t mention this enough. the All Might we know is a sixty-something-year-old man, and so everyone always talks about him like he’s basically been an adult forever. but he was a child when he met Nana. and he was still just a child when she died. barely a year older than Deku is now. younger than Mirio was when we first met him.

and we don’t talk about that. we don’t talk about how devastating that was for him. and we don’t talk about how the reason he grew up to become so reserved and withdrawn -- for all that he always tried so hard to outwardly project the image of a bold, confident, smiling hero -- was specifically because of what AFO did to him. because AFO targeted him in the exact way that he is now targeting Deku. because that’s what he does. he goes after every new user of OFA, and he finds out what’s most important to them, and then he destroys it. and for Toshinori, that was Nana. if you’ve read All Might Rising, you know that AFO basically killed her in front of him (and only killed her, while letting Toshinori and Gran get away). Toshinori (while crying) later says she was like a mother to him. and interestingly enough, during this same conversation, Gran tells Toshinori that he can see “that madness in [his] eyes” when Toshi talks about becoming strong enough to defeat AFO. madness in his eyes. sound familiar??

what’s happening to Deku now is the exact same thing that happened to Toshinori when he was a boy. AFO tried every bit as hard to break him as he’s trying with Deku now. “the path you’ve chosen is a thorny one. every battle grinds away at your soul with no end in sight.” we don’t talk about how Toshinori experienced this same thing for forty fucking years. and all the while isolating himself, exactly like Deku is doing now. pushing people away, exactly like Deku. because he never had anyone who was able to reach out and pull him back. and those words that he now finds himself frozen and unable to speak -- “don’t push yourself”; “you can rest” -- are the same words that no one ever said to him until decades later, when it was already far too late to make any difference.

everything that Deku is experiencing now is what Toshinori also went through. and it’s only now, as he watches it happen to his student, the boy he loves like a son, that he’s finally starting to realize the full extent of how wrong it was. you shouldn’t have to fight alone. you shouldn’t have to bear that kind of enormous burden alone. you shouldn’t have to push yourself, and you can rest. you can rest.

but it’s too late. just as he’s finally coming to understand it all, it’s all too fucking late. and he can’t say the words, he doesn’t know how to say the words, and then just like that, Deku is gone.

and he’s alone. again.)

I can’t. this can’t be their goodbye. I’m not ready. for this to be how they finally part, and then they never see each other again except in OFA. how is that fair. how is that fair. how is that fair

fuck me. lol. how many pages are left in this thing. let’s just wrap this up lol. so now of all the times for this fucking guy to finally show up

I can’t believe Stain has been here literally this entire time hiding behind this random wall and cutting onions. that was you who was cutting the onions, right. no need to answer that we’ll just say it was

HORIKOSHI JUST END THE CHAPTER PLEASE I’M OUT OF SPOONS. YOU HURT ME SO GOOD AND I LOVE YOU FOR IT BUT YOU NEED TO LET ME GO NOW SO I CAN BEGIN THE PROCESS OF TRYING TO PUT MY LIFE BACK IN ORDER HERE. SO WHERE ARE WE CUTTING TO NOW WHAT IS HAPPENING

Stain did you also let AFO give you a new quirk. what’s with you guys. do you like blowing up

oh nvm lol because they were talking about THIS GUY ohhhhhh my fucking god

THAT’S BECAUSE HE’S SAD, LINDA!! jesus

omfg. and so yes, good, the chapter is ending here now on page 15. for once I am FULLY on board with that lmao

anyway so tune in next week for more adventures of Werewolf Deku!! that is, assuming we don’t finally cut back to U.A. at long last, which is actually a strong possibility considering that this chapter will likely mark the end of volume 31. it sure wouldn’t kill Horikoshi to start giving us some hope after everything he’s just put us through lol. KACCHAN COME GET YA BOY

#bnha 317 #all might #midoriya izuku #and endeavor and hawks and mt. lady and all the rest of them I guess #literally forgot all about them by the end lol #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha meta #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #this wound up so long lmao I'm so sorry

[transformers-fan-continuities]

Spotlight: Ties That Bind

This one’s a doozy folks! If you missed the last spotlight you can go read it here, but strap in for The Ties That Bind, an absolutely brilliant take on humanformers. It’s hosted here at @tiesthatbind-tf​ created by @artsy-hobbitses​!

Q) Give us a run down of your cont! What's it about, what's it called, what's it like?

Ties That Bind is a humanformers-based original continuity which is part Science Fiction and part Alternate History where the invasion of Quintessons and introduction of their technology to Earth in 1920 sets the world and humankind on a completely different trajectory. The active narrative spans a period from 1920 to 2070, covering the First and Second Quintesson Wars, the interplanetary Antillan War (leading to the creation of Unicron on Mars) and the Great War which involves the Autobots, Decepticons and Functionist stalwarts, and how it affects the characters.

The cast is pretty sprawling and the narrative is mostly centred around human drama with bits of humor interspaced and a dash of horror (mostly centred around how the previous government often chose to utilize the technology left behind from the Quintesson Wars to create new systems of oppression, which affected many of the characters, in the name of worldwide rebuilding efforts).

Q) What characters take the lead here? Any personal favorites?

I will admit to this continuity being very much heavy on the relationship between Old Bastards  Optimus Prime and Megatron, which is given considerable weight as they were best friends who had known each other since childhood and were deeply intrinsic to each other’s growths as individuals, which makes it all the worse when guilt and betrayal enter the party. Despite being captains in two corners of this battle, there’s a part of them that just cannot let go of their pasts together and they need to reconcile with how this will affect their agenda (Megatron) and how they lead their team (Optimus) who don’t necessarily share their history.

Other characters with significant development include:

Starscream, a Cold Construct in a toxic working relationship with Megatron with whom he is hiding a dark secret, who struggles to balance the underhanded viciousness he believes he needs to gain power and his innate desire from his Senate days to make the world a better place. 

Windblade, a Camien native who fights her government’s apathy concerning the situation on Earth which they see as unsalvageable compared to their more Utopian society. 

Prowl, a Cold Construct raised from childhood to be a cop in a police state, who finds out that he was brainwashed several times  to ensure his obedience and efficacy as a government asset and is now working to reclaim some semblance of the humanity he was never allowed to feel and figure out how much of him is who he really is and how much is programming.

Hound, a sheltered Beastman who joined the fight to ensure that Beastmen the world over would have the same rights he did in his homeland of Shetland Isle, but is forcefully stripped of his humanity and faced with his animal side during the war and has to relearn what personhood means amid his trauma.

Q) Is there a bigger point to this, like a theme or some catharsis? Or is it just fluffy fun?

God with the amount of time I spent sleepless trying to figure out how the logistics of this or the semantics of that were supposed to work in universe, I cannot for the life of me say it’s fluffy fun, but I can’t exactly say it hasn’t been pretty engaging either!

There’s elements of war being messy for everyone involved where there doesn’t seem to be a clear line between friend and foe at times, but I think for most part it prescribes to  Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s belief that people are inherently good, but are corrupted by the evils of society. Despite its dark themes (Including but not limited to child abuse, torture, illegal experimenation  and brainwashing), love and friendships do prevail, kindness does beget kindness, found families are made, even the smallest actions matter, and things do get better because there are people on both sides who genuinely want to, and strive to make it better.

With Cold Constructs and Beastmen, it also delves heavily into what it means to be human; to have agency and personhood.

There’s also a strong undercurrent of taking responsibility for one’s actions, even if they were made with the best of intentions (Avoidance of this is what eats up Starscream and Megatron from the inside, and what Starscream eventually embraces).

Q) How long have you been working on it?

There’s two answers to this!

I’ve had a Humanformers-related universe going all the way back to 2007 around the time the first Bayformers came out---basically I had a choice between learning to draw cars or draw people (I was an anthro artist back then) and I immediately chose people.

The 2007 draft however had no worldbuilding or connective storylines and was mostly a fun little venture into character design and practice which were actually instrumental to me experimenting and learning how to draw humans properly.

I left the fandom for about a decade and when I came back to it in late 2020 around September via the War for Cybertron series on Netflix, I immediately got hooked on the 2005 IDW comics I missed out on and wanted to get around to updating my old designs as well find a way to translate several of the concepts I wanted to explore in a human sense, so the 2020 update became its own full-fledged original continuity with detailed worldbuilding and history.

You can see the artistic evolution of several characters from their original incarnation below!

Q) It’s incredible to see your artistic improvement too! Give us a behind-the-scenes look! Show us a secret ;))

Say hello to my workspace! I’ve been working exclusively on the Ipad Pro since late 2016, which is fantastic because I can basically whip up concepts and sketches on the go anywhere. Nowhere is too out of bounds to work on TTB!

Also, do enjoy this sneak peek at true!form Rung, whose synthezoid human body took years to perfect.

Q) YESSSSS alright I must admit this is one of my favorite Rungs, and certainly my fave within TTB. Amazing. Phew, anyway. Where did you draw inspiration from? What canons, what other fiction, what parts of real life?

TTB was initially conceived as a faithful retelling of the IDW 2005 narrative before it was transformed into its own continuity and as such, it borrows heavily from concepts and mirrored plot lines introduced in that run! I chose to have the series inspired off it specifically for the amount of history and worldbuilding it introduced to the franchise.

Anime like Gunslinger Girl and Beastars inspired the depictions of Cold Constructs, especially the more harrowing aspects of their upbringing as government assets instead of children, and Beastmen (Beastformers) in TTB.

I haven’t depicted the world itself in my art all too much, but the architecture from Tiger and Bunny, which has sort of a futuristic Art Deco feel to it, is what you’d usually see in major cities. There is an in-universe reason for that---with a Point Of Divergence set in 1920 followed by 25 years (an entire generation) of progress basically being kicked to the curb due to the Quintesson wars, mankind was basically in a time-locked bubble until the end of the wars, and by then their heroes were 1920s-style rebellion leaders, which lead to 1920s fashion (especially among the Manual Working Class---Megatron, Jazz and Optimus all rock 1920s fashion at some point of their lives) and architecture being celebrated and retained as sort of a reminder of how things were before The Invasion. This anime’s background design is also where I adopted the tiered system TTB’s major metropolises are often built on (with each tier being designated to a different working class) from.

The main artistic style itself is a love letter to 90s cartoons, in particular Gargoyles’ deep and drama-driven character narratives and designs as well as The Centurions’ take on body armor logistics.

I also take inspiration, especially armor-wise, from the characters’ given heritage and background. As an example, Hotrod who is depicted as Irish has the flames on his armor done up with Celtic knots. Welsh aristocrat Mirage’s armor bears olden knight-style filigree and has his Autobot logo designed as a coat of arms. Indonesian Soundwave’s armor and Decepticon logo takes cues from Batik and Wayang Kulit while their mask is based off the Barong.

Q) They are absolutely gorgeous! Show off something you're really proud of, a particular favorite part of your cont.

The worldbuilding in general! Most Humanformers I’ve seen tend to treat it like a fun exercise which it is and is definitely valid, but I found myself wanting a full-fledged world to lose myself in and I sought to try and make that world myself by drafting a detailed history and timeline of events which would affect ongoing narratives, having indepth worldbuilding to include almost all societal aspects of the universe and  expanding on the concept of Beastmen and Cold Constructs existing in a human setting.

I’m not so secretly proud of the research and diversity included to make the cast look like the multicultural, globally-based team that they were meant to be instead of being locked to a single region! My original draft from 2007 was, to put it simply, quite culturally monolithic and I wanted to improve on that aspect with TTB.

I’m also proud that I’ve kept to it this far! I’m a notoriously flaky person jumping from one idea/fandom to another and to have kept at this continuity for the better part of ten months is honestly a personal feat.

Art-wise, this scene depicting a young Megatron working alongside Terminus and Impactor (cameo by @weapon-up-wallflower​‘s OC Missit!)  is definitely one of my favorites since it helps build up the world they live in and plays to familial bonds and comfort found in one another despite their less than ideal circumstances.

Q) Everything has come together so beautifully, you absolutely should be proud. What other fan canons do you love and why? Would you like to see them interviewed?

I am dying to hear more from @iscaredspider​’s Sparkpulse continuity! Her designs are MIND-BLOWINGLY GORGEOUS and I want to hear more about what inspired her to work on it!

Also YOU. Yes YOU BLURRITO. LET ME HEAR MORE ABOUT SNAP.

Q) [wails and squirms away in the mortifying ordeal of being known but in a very flattered way] I WILL SOMEDAY I PROMISE aflghsdjg thank you QwQ

Well that was fantastic, Oni, thank you muchly! A magnificent continuity with so much to look forward to! Coming up next is another personal fave of mine, the first inspiration for SNAP, so stick around...

#long post #gore #ties that bind #spotlight #transformers #HUMANFORMERS #transformers au #tf original continuity #transformers fan continuity #transformers redesign #maccadam #i said id post this on sunday but i realize thats a holiday for lots of folks on this site :/

[earthstellar]

Transformers Analysis: Folklore and Folk Magic in the Mines of Kaon

thinking about Miner Megatron again, as always. here we goooo 

So I've been doing some folk magic, as I usually do, and it got me thinking:

Surely, the lower class/caste bots wouldn’t feel welcomed into the more organised Cybertronian temples etc., or might even be outright banned from joining in shared spiritual spaces or rituals. 

So it’s time to teach y’all some working class magic history and how we can apply that to Cybertronian spirituality: 

Working Class History: Casting Spells on the Job (Just Call it Prayer so the Boss Doesn't Find Out)

Here's a quick history of rural Appalachian folk magic, for some context:

1) The Christian Bible has been used for spellcasting all up and down the rural East Coast in the USA from day one of colonisation.

In Pennsylvania you have Hexenmeisters and the Pennsylvania Dutch practices, for a well-documented example.

2) The working class has done spellcasting with the Bible from the very first day shitty bosses started

This is for several reasons, but primarily because Bibles were common and cheap, you didn't have to know how to read in order to follow along with or change the lyrics of popular hymns and prayers to fit your own needs, and it was very easy to sneak what is essentially localised witchcraft under the radar when it just looks like you're reading the Bible to everyone else.

Catholic materials were used a lot for this, because they were often provided for free by any local churches, and a lot of working class people in Appalachia were Italian (Roman Catholic) or Eastern European (Eastern Orthodox Catholic), which meant there was no shortage of all sorts of votive candles and the like to utilise for what we would now identify as spellcasting.

It's important to note that it wasn't called spellcasting outright by anybody; Sometimes it was called "hexing" or "sweet talking", among other terms, but if you called it spellcasting it was heavily frowned upon.

A lot of people were uncomfortable (and are still uncomfortable) with verbalising it or identifying it as such due to stigma from the more mainstream religious communities or their own religious backgrounds, and of course, historically if the boss found out that all the workers hated their jobs so much they were doing fucking witchcraft about it, it would not have ended well for the workers.

So, stealth it is. And that's why there are so many specific folk practices in a lot of historically working class rural regions/communities-- Not just in Appalachia, but similar things happen in similar communities around the world.

What does this have to do with Megatron?

Everything we know about the lower classes on Cybertron, the lower caste members, and the mines/industrial regions in Tarn and Kaon suggest that a similar folklore likely existed within these working communities.

And any local folk practices likely developed for the exact same reasons that this type of folk practice developed in the real world:

Workers are fucking miserable, "mainstream" religion isn't satisfying their spiritual/emotional/social/material needs or concerns, and close-knit people in small communities spending most of their time together naturally start to sort of do their own thing based on their collective situation.

People get desperate, there's nowhere to turn and nothing to do, so spirituality becomes a lifeline in that it builds solidarity and creates a more appropriate sort of support system.

For example: If we aren't allowed time off work to mourn our friend who was killed by heavy machinery, and we aren't allowed any time to process that or deal with it or take care of each other, then we will invent a ritual that allows us to grieve on the job.

This was, and still is, a common thing.

Which brings us to...

St. Barbara and the Mines + Solus Prime

St. Barbara's backstory can be summarised, roughly, as such (based on the version of this story that I know; keep in mind the details can vary):

She was kept isolated from others by her father, who became furious that she refused an arranged marriage. When she fled, he chased her; She ran into two people working in a field, the first who helped her, and the second who gave her path away to her father.

She was captured, and brought to a prominent local figure (the title varies based on different versions of this story), who had her tortured for escaping and disobeying her father.

However, when imprisoned, they tried to kill her again and again, and every morning she was healed. Fire intended to be used to burn her would cool the second it got near her skin, and daggers used to cut her would go dull when brought near her.

Snakes thrown into her room intended to bite her would then die the instant they went to approach her, and ropes intended to be used to bind and choke her would spontaneously fray and snap before they could be tied.

Eventually, she was condemned to beheading, and a special sword was used to cut her head off, which finally killed her.

Her father is the one who beheaded her, and as divine punishment, he was hit by lightning-- A single bolt that lasted so long that his entire body went up into flames, and his ashes disappeared.

Her gravesite became a place of veneration, where people prayed for protection and safety.

She became known as the patron saint of all people with dangerous jobs or jobs where the bosses don't care about the worker's wellbeing or safety, for obvious reasons: Nothing but the hands of her own father could ever harm her.  

(The imagery of St. Barbara being slain only by a special sword is very reminiscent of Solus Prime being slain only by a special sword...)

Workers, especially those with particularly dangerous or shitty jobs but also just anyone working class in general, can interpret this story in several ways which can make it additionally relatable:

Her father = A controlling and aggressive boss who abuses or neglects their workers to death.

The field workers = A pro-union worker (a helper) and an anti-union worker or scab (a betrayer).

So you can see how St. Barbara became immediately adopted as a common worker's saint, and was used in a lot of regional working class folk magic practices (where such folk magic developed within local working communities).

And this is still going strong as a tradition; Crossrail tunnel borers in London consecrated the drilling site in the name of St. Barbara in 2013:

"Several hundred contractors and senior management attended the St Barbara's Day ceremony at the Thames Tunnel (pictured) which will link Plumstead and North Woolwich when completed. The site was so large, that sound engineers put in place an amplification system for the ceremony." - Article here. 

"As a long-standing tradition, one of the first tasks for each new tunnelling projects is to establish a small shrine to Santa Barbara at the tunnel portal or at the underground junction into long tunnel headings. This is often followed with a dedication and an invocation to Santa Barbara for protection of all who work on the project during the construction period." - Article here. 

And here's a related example of a worker's prayer for St. Barbara, from here: 

So this is very much a tradition that is still going strong, and it isn't just Catholic workers who engage with these types of things!

To accommodate more diverse groups and communities of workers, folk practices (including what eventually becomes folk magic) increasingly develop even further away from any one specific religious origin, in order to become more inclusive for the majority of people who can be from all kinds of different spiritual or cultural backgrounds.

Hence, more folk magic is made-- And I believe something like this could absolutely have evolved in a similar way in working communities on Cybertron.

Cybertronian Spirituality: The Primes, The Knights, The Titans

My personal theory/headcanon, and there is not much in canon to support this particularly so please keep that in mind, is that given the average type of manual labour working environment in Tarn and Kaon (dangerous, dark, and deep), it would make sense for the legendary Titans to become worked into some kind of folk practice.

We have this concept of the Titans as these giant and very particular beings, which reminds me somewhat of the Jewish Golem of Prague, in that the Titans are made from raw materials in some kind of mystical or cosmically spiritual manner, then eventually ally themselves to at least one respective Prime who then acts as a director of their actions to achieve victory over cosmic evil(s).

The Titans then go forward and act as guardians of Cybertronian life by combating the origins of these cosmic evil(s) as protectors of their respective polities and regions and eventually colony worlds, called into action by what is essentially a metaphysical and possibly outright spiritual pull of the need of their Prime(s) and later on the needs of the Cybertronian and colony world populations in times of threat or desperation.

These details are peppered throughout canon and vary based on media/franchise, but most recently Titan lore was covered again in IDW’s Optimus Prime series, issue 10, literally titled Origin Myths. 

What is interesting is that while the Golem association could be reasonably made, you could also reasonably say that the Three Original Titans (Metroplex, Chela, and Metrotitan) could be associated just as easily with the Catholic concept of the Holy Trinity. 

Lots of different interpretations could be applied to this stuff!

Class Stratification Within Cybertronian Religious Institutions

No matter how you may interpret it, we know that the Titans have a similar mystical presence in Cybertronian history and cultural lore to that of the Primes and Knights, and it would make sense for those spurned and disparaged by "mainstream" spiritual practices (which were likely just as stratified by class and caste as everything else was on Cybertron during Megatron's youth) to go ahead and create a folk practice based more around Titans.

This is because the Primes would like be associated directly with their oppressive rulers and upper classes, and the Knights, who are said to be the first Cybertronians to come from the Well, thusly represent a very high class onto their own which may have repelled working class bots who were very likely sick of essentially worshipping those venerated in their class stratified society solely due to the conditions of their creation; The Knights were "born with silver spoons", essentially, and it's hard to sell that to people who suffered due to the conditions of their own creation.

Therefore, the Titans are the other most likely Cybertronian figures of historical lore that could reasonably be adapted into a sort of folk religion for the working classes and lower social caste bots.

The imagery is strong, and relatable: In Megatron's case, the manual labourers and miners all have large frames compared to the average Cybertronian, they all toil invisibly and in relative silence, and they are kept away from the end products of their labour and yet without them, Cybertron planet wide would instantly struggle to sustain their raw material demands. 

They are critical workers, yet many of them have no names/designations; It is noted at least once in canon that some Titans are so old or so little known that their designations are not recorded. Yet without these unseen/unknown Titans, it could be the case that cosmic evil could have achieved victory.

While the Titans are critical, they are largely a mystery and unknown in any real detail. They do not normally engage with average Cybertronians, and when they do, it is usually indirectly-- Even though their actions actively impact the lives of nearly everyone.

And though the Primes and Knights are generally never physically present, at least not within living memory, there is real and physical proof of Titans. I feel like that aspect alone may well appeal more to people who are very physically oriented; We also see a stark realist mentality from many of the lower class/caste bots, who are sometimes realistic to the point of nihilism (which is part of why Megatron's writings were so revolutionary, in that they re-introduced hope to people who had previously concluded that there was no realistic possibility of ever rising up).

The Titans being a known, tangible physical reality may well have endeared them as a more interesting folkloric or spiritual focus to this particular cohort of bots.

Just like with St. Barbara in real life, you can see how the Titans may have been interpreted in certain ways by the lower class/caste working bots which may have made them more appealing or more easy to structure into a framework of sorts for their own practices within their local cultures.

A Little Meta: There's a Lot of Various Religious Imagery in Transformers

Like with all media, especially Western media, inevitably some Jesus sneaks in there.

Which usually sucks, because it can be alienating for literally anyone who isn't familiar with Christianity in some way (as some references or parallels are inevitably not going to be as obvious or even detectable at all to people who didn't grow up with all this sometimes very specific shit, resulting in missed thematic elements and so on due to no fault of the viewers but rather the tendency for Western shows to overwhelmingly be written and designed by primarily Western white middle aged cis straight men who tend to throw some Jesus in there when there should not necessarily be any Jesus in there, but I could yell about this all night).

Transformers as a franchise altogether is not immune to this; As with all media, it is made by people, and people are influenced by their social/cultural upbringing, and that includes religious influences.

We could read some of this into the TFP/Aligned Continuity, in regards to the idea of the Thirteen Primes and how that concept is interpreted in TFP.

Transformers Prime: Alpha Trion is Essentially Paul the Apostle

The TFP Primes resemble both the Apostles as well as various Saints, and especially the Fourteen Holy Helpers; These fourteen Saints in particular are elevated above the others in many cases and contexts-- Similar to how the Primes are held up as elevated over other Cybertronians and other figures in Cybertronian history and presumably within certain Cybertronian spiritual practices as well. 

For example, Alpha Trion is strongly reminiscent of the Christian figure Paul the Apostle, who was a writer/scribe known for documenting early Christian concerns of faith in his letters, which became extremely important to theological historians in regards to determining early Christian discourse and attempting to create a timeline of early Christianity.

His letters are included the New Testament in thirteen (!) sections called epistles, which are archived forever in various iterations within the Christian Bible. 

Now, let’s take a look at the symbolism, using the TFP main illustration of Alpha Trion as featured in the Covenant, and a popular Icon image of Paul the Apostle: 

Beard, cloak, book-- Even the pose they are in here is very similar, look at the feet and the way they are both standing. Even the halo of Cybertronian glyphs around Alpha Trion’s head resembles the gold filament of Paul’s halo. 

And much like Alpha Trion's questionable ability to write/re-write history and determine events through some kind of cosmically divine power of foresight, the timeline of Paul's letters will likely never be fully verifiable, and of course, there are so many translations and interpretations of these letters along with the rest of the New Testament that while key points remain fairly consistent, there is still no "true" version or exact outline of events or discussions as recorded by Paul-- Primarily because in at least a few cases, Paul's letters are the only allusion to certain events or conversations.

This is extremely similar to how Alpha Trion states outright in the Covenant that he himself doesn't know if what he writes is actually factual anymore, or if he has changed things so many times to try to construct a more favourable narrative of actions and events that reality itself may have been warped by his Quill, either forwards or backwards in time...

You could also argue that Alpha Trion is presented as a God-like figure in TFP (especially when he appears to Optimus in the form of an echoing voice and shimmering spectral figure in a vision caused by what is essentially the equivalent of a holy relic), and Orion Pax would then be comparable to Jesus pre-Crucifixion, with his reformatting into Optimus Prime post-Matrix heavily resembling Jesus in the eyes of his followers post-Resurrection.

The main cast of Autobots in this comparison would then roughly correspond to the Apostles, of whom there were twelve, with Optimus then making Thirteen... And of course, canonically, Optimus is the resurrection of the Thirteenth Prime. 

You can also see visual similarities in the depiction of Thirteen in the Covenant; It reminds me heavily of the Divine Mercy image of Jesus: 

Both have their right hands raised, their chests emitting a holy/cosmic light. 

I'm just saying, it is totally possible to make connections between fictional lore/spiritual figures and real world ones, and TF is loaded with content that can be re-contextualised in this way. 

(I also want to point out at this time that it is not my intention to offend anyone with any of this analysis; I am writing from the point of view of someone who grew up with folk spirituality, and I am also a Quaker Attender, just so you are aware of my own personal background. I would love to hear any other interpretations of any spiritual imagery in Transformers media, because there’s a ton of possible ways to read into this stuff!) 

In Conclusion: Cast a Hex on Your Boss by Calling Upon the Titans

Just for fun, as someone who has actually done folk magic for my entire life, I've adapted a hex against bad bosses to fit this headcanon. I think this is something that lower class/caste bots would absolutely engage in; It's common in real life as well.

The original I'm basing this off of was actually something I found in one of our old family Bibles before I moved out, and was written in Girard, Pennsylvania sometime between 1920-1930. I believe it was written by a relative of mine who worked either on the farm or on the railways.

Remember that folk magic like this is for and by working class people, so there are no fancy supplies needed; Don't ever buy shit to do magic, you can do it with anything laying around you. No need to spend money.

If you have a shitty boss, please let me know if you hex your boss with this. I always encourage witchcraft, fictional or otherwise.

Here's what you do, if you want to actually try this:

1) Using any old paper that you have lying around, cut it roughly into a square (doesn't need to be perfect.) It doesn't matter what type of paper it is.

2) Grab any pen you like, it can be any type of pen, any type of ink.

3) Draw a square outline on the paper, making a border on the page. This can be big or small as you like, and you can decorate it if you want; Just leave enough space to write inside the square.

4) Fold this paper into a square, any way you'd like as long as it's a square, and take this paper while it's still blank to work in your pocket.

Carry the paper with you for at least one full day at work. If you can, place it in a chest pocket or a pocket where the paper will be fairly close to your body.

It doesn't matter if the paper gets dirty or smudged or torn; In fact, that's even better.

(Some people who do variations of this spell in real life even use the paper to wipe dirt off their hands etc. throughout the day, to really get the energy of a work day settled into the paper. As long as it can still be written on, you can do this if you'd like.)

5) At the end of the work day, take the paper out, and write the following:

Where I have put [X], the word "Lord" was in the original version of this hex which was in my family Bible, but to contextualise it within the fictional headcanon lore here, you can replace this with the word "Titan". (Or you can replace it with anything else that may be appropriate as well, if you would like to actually use this hex!)

"Give us pay for our work, or the poor will plea to the [X] against you, and you will be struck down, cast down.  

If you do not give to those who give to you, you will be cursed coming in, and going out.

Just as the [X] can raise you up and lead you to prosper, so too can the [X] turn away from you, and you will be left to have your walls destroyed, your fortress ruined.

Us servants will rejoice, but you will cry out in anguish, you will be put to shame.

Without the toilers, the land is made desolate, the haunt of jackals.

[X], turn your gaze to us, we labourers of all kinds, see our tears and our sweat.

Lay curses upon those who use their hands to hold us down; Kept below water, our tears lost in the flood.

Raise the waters, and surge the shores of their ill-owned kingdom; Bring forth to their memory that the [X] stewards the land, and that all among the land are equal in spirit.

The [X] will cast fury upon the unrighteous and conniving, cast rage and stand among us mightily, each motion casting winds against the oppressor who weakens like fractured stone under the onslaught of rain.

The [X] will make a storm from our anguish, which brings us higher, raises us from desolation. Our tears, become the rain that withers the false tower looming high above us.

Our hands will raise from our tools and duties, and offer high praise to the [X], who guards the disparaged and lowly, who enacts justice against those who have done wrong against us.

Let us be brought high, and those who revel in our struggle, may they be cast down."

6) You may flip the paper over once the ink is dry, and on the back, put three Xs in the upper corners of the paper. You may also add three more XXXs to the centre of the paper, where the crease in the paper is from folding it.

7) Re-fold the paper, and put it in the bottom of your right shoe. If this is too uncomfortable, carry it in any pocket on your right side.

You can also place it in your wallet for safe keeping, as your wallet contains money and possibly a work ID or something similar, which are all tied to work and working.

And there you have it! Fuck shitty bosses, both fictional ones and real ones. Join a union, do some witchcraft. 

This post was long as always, but I hope it's interesting to someone out there! <3 Thank you to anyone who actually reads through all of this! <3

#megatron #transformers #tfp #transformers prime #alpha trion #transformers meta #transformers analysis #long post #idw transformers #idw 1 #miner megatron #young megatron #maccadam #tw religion #working class history #witchcraft #spellcasting #hexing #solus prime

[hayjeon]

One Year, My Love [M] (ft. Jungkook) | pt. 1

→ historical/royal!au, marriagecontract!au, based off the kdrama 100 days My Prince; → You forge a marriage contract with the strangely speaking man who suddenly stumbled into your town with memory loss, but little do you know that he’s actually the lost Crown Prince, and a lot can happen between a married man and woman in one year. 

→ genres: lots of fluff/plot development, a tiny bit of angst, and a little smut → 15k words | part 1| part 2 | fin.

A/N: I went on a writing binge the past couple days and I was able to finish this monster fic, and wanted to get it out for you guys so you can read during quarantine! I usually tend to write really angsty and darker fics, so I hope that the fluff in this one is really refreshing :) 

“No!” You scream, flailing your arms as the officials try to drag you into the waiting carriage. “I won’t marry him! I can’t!” 

The matchmaker looks wistfully at you as you struggle. “Please! Y/n, he is rich! He’ll pay for your debt, and you’ll avoid a punishment! I’m sure that your fiancee, ‘Jungkook’ that you speak of, doesn’t even exist! You have no one else! Just go!” 

You struggle, putting up quite a fight with the two men gripping either of your arms. “Never!” You scream, turning to bite one on his arm. He yelps and lets you go, and when his partner sees that you bit him, he throws you onto the ground, drawing his sword and whipping it at your neck. 

He huffs, “You bitch, you know that it’s the King’s decree that all women must be wed by tonight. This is your last chance to survive. Your punishment may be death, and if you want to meet that end, so be it!” 

You glare up at him, blowing the hair that fell out of your bun out of your face, “So do it! Kill me! I’d rather die than be married off to someone who’s older than my father! He’s a pig!” 

The villagers murmur. They knew of him. The rich landowner who happened to also be a government official who was heftily over sixty years of age, and well-known to have multiple concubines. If you married him, you would be his seventh. 

The official just presses his sword closer to your neck, and you feel the sharp blade dig into your delicate skin. “General Oh is being a kind man to allow a woman with age and no property wed into his household. You should be thankful!” 

“Thankful!” You scoff, laughing loudly “Ha! Thankful? To that swine who sits around all day getting fat, instead of protecting the country and his tenants like he should? His one desire is to get enough concubines so he could fuck one each day of the week! You call him a kind man? Do you not have any sisters, or a daughter? Would you ship her off to a man like that?!” 

The man hesitates, and you see him gulp. There. You’d hit a nerve. 

“Oh,” you smile slyly, “so you do have a woman close to you.” You take his moment of weakness to stand, but he still holds the sword pointed towards you. “Then you’d understand why I would rather die by your sword, than by that swine’s disgusting little dick.” 

The official’s eyes widen, but he holds his ground. “Well, if that may be it, then I have no choice but to follow the King’s decree. All men or women who refuse to be wed by tonight will be executed.” 

You hold your head high, eyeing him down with a steely gaze. “So be it.” You grit, lip curling. 

The official seems like it’s the last thing he wants to do, but everyone turns their heads or shuts their eyes as the man lifts his sword high. You lift your eyes to the sky. You’d endured quite a bit of your life, struggling to make ends meet after your parents were murdered, you’d run away and swam through the rushing rivers to escape the murderers dressed in black who’d ransacked your house and kidnapped your brother. After you were saved and adopted by your current father, your life had been one of petty thefts and begging until you’d been able to run some manual labor jobs to help pay for food and kindling for yourself and your father. Until now, it had been a hard, hard life. There was no god. But you knew one thing. You would never, ever lose your honor. And so be it, losing your life this way. 

You suck in a breath, waiting for the sword to swing down, when suddenly your father’s voice cuts through the crowd. 

“WAIT! WAAAAIIIIITTTT!” He cries, stumbling and pushing through the crowd. He tows along a man dressed in white after him. “He’s here! Her fiancee!” He lifts the hand that holds the man’s hand. The man seems as confused as you are, but the official lowers his sword. 

The matchmaker gasps. “That’s Jungkook?!” He gapes. “He exists? I thought she made him up!” 

Your father runs up to you, and you face him with a bewildered expression as he leans in close. “Just go with it,” he grits, before facing the official with a gentle smile that doesn’t match the environment of the conversation. “I’m so sorry for my daughter, she must’ve lost her mind. She has a fiancee, but he was far away. I just returned with him, and they will be wed today!” 

You whip your head to stare at the man in tow with your father. He seems beaten up; a busted lip and some bruise littering his cheek and neck. But underneath the grime he’s quite handsome, and seems to be of around your age. His eyes are round and his skin quite pale. His nose is large and regal, while his lips are round and plush. His jawline is sharp and his shoulders broad and muscular. He meets your gaze with a frown. 

The official faces you, quirking his brow. “Is this true?” 

Your panicked expression molds into a calmer one, your mind running a hundred miles a minute. “Yes,” you determine, facing him with a bold stare. “This is my fiancee. I will be wed to him.” Better the wide-eyed man than the swine. 

He faces the man. “Is what she is saying true?” 

You and the rest of the onlookers turn to the handsome man. He frowns, contemplating how your father had nursed him to health and moments ago begged him to please return the favor by marrying his daughter. He was shocked and had no time to ask questions as he’d been dragged out of bed to the town hall of this run-down village. His head still throbs, and he watches as you look at him with such determination, and your father with desperation. 

He squares his shoulders, and looks back at the official. 

“Yes. She is my fiancee.” 

Everyone seems to sigh in relief as the official nods and sheathes his sword. He signals to his comrade and they leave the premises, promising to send word to their general regarding your marriage status. He hoists himself up on the horse. “You must be wed by tonight,” he warns, and gallops away. 

The matchmaker scurries up to you both, a huge smile on his face. “So, what kind of a wedding do you want?” 

You and the man sit on the front porch. You level him with a steely gaze, your arms crossed across your chest while your dad cowers in the corner. 

“Your name?” You ask.

He glares back at you. “I don’t remember.” 

“How did you meet my father, then?” 

Your dad pipes up. “I found him when I went to go fishing. He’d been washed up on the riverbed with a nasty wound on the back of his head.” 

The both of you return to glaring at eachother. 

“Fine,” you snap, “It seems as if you and I have both...situations...that need to be solved. You don’t remember anything about yourself and where you’ve come from. I need to find a husband to marry by the end of the day or else I’ll be executed. We will forge a deal.” 

He frowns. “What are the terms? What is preventing me from just running away?” 

You spread out a scroll, dipping your brush into the ink as you write neatly. “Term 1. You shall be given the name, ‘Jungkook.’” 

“That’s the name that I lied was of my fiancee.” You explain, “Since you seem to not remember your own name, that shall be the name at least until you remember yours, that you are called by.” He watches you write in silence. 

“Term 2. I will nurse you back to health. If you decide you don’t want this, you will die of starvation, mugging, or of your wounds. We are the only chance you have at regaining your memory and returning to your previous life.” 

You watch as his expression remains unchanging. He had an impeccable pokerface. 

“Term 3. We will be wed for 1 year. Whether your memory has returned or not, the year must be fulfilled in order to satisfy the decree of the King. After the given time, when the flowers of the Spring begin to bloom, you may go on your way, and I will go on mine.” 

He frowns at you. “What will happen in that time?”

You shrug, watching the villagers scurry about, preparing food and decorations for your wedding. “I will nurse you back to health and we must maintain the state of the house and act as a married couple. There is not much else. It is the least you can repay to my father for saving your life.” 

He nods. “Keep going.” 

You lean down to write down the final term. “Term 4. You will speak to no one of this truth, and this contract will stay within the walls of this house and be known by the parties present: you, myself, and my father.” 

He sighs, eyebrows furrowed as he stares at the contract. “You misspelled ‘myself’” he mutters. 

You stare up in shock. “You know how to read?” 

He seems to be surprised at your question. “Yes?” 

You straighten up. “Well, if you know how to read, then you must be from an affluent family. Ever the more reason to continue to try and regain your memories.” 

“And you?” 

You still, pausing at his question. There was no way he would understand what you’ve been through, why you were here now. You clear your throat, “I-I just picked it up. It’s a skill that I needed to learn to survive.” 

He doesn’t reply, and so you clear your throat again, turning the contract towards him. “Do you agree to these terms?” 

He surveys the script for a bit longer, and then nods. “I agree to these terms.” He dips his thumb in the ink and presses it down into the paper, and then takes the brush to write neatly on the bottom next to yours. 

Jungkook. 

The marriage ensues quickly, your surprised villagers preparing a last minute celebration of sorts. You borrow the matrimonial robes from your neighbor, Jisoo, who was wedded last week and has yet to return it to her lender, and Jungkook is able to borrow the matching set. 

In order to meet the deadline, your town decides to skip all the formalities and boil down the ceremony to just a fraction of the normal festivities. The matchmaker has put on his officiator’s clothes for the final time, and asks you the question. “Do you, y/n of this town, agree to marry and cherish this man, Jungkook, for the rest of your life, through sickness and in health?” 

You meet the eyes of Jungkook. He’s cleaned up quite nicely, your father helping him bandage up his wounds better and washing himself so he’s no longer caked in dirt and dried blood. His hair is re-tied into the tall bun on his head and the ceremonial silk hat placed on his head, adorned with beautiful beads. His robes are a beautiful royal blue. 

You weren’t really a liar. You were known to say it as it is. Your mouth had gotten you in quite a lot of trouble growing up. But this is the one time you knew you had to life. In order to survive. You would not cherish this man. You didn’t even know him. It would only be a marriage of a year. 

“I do.” You reply. 

The matchmaker smiles. “And do you, Jungkook,” he declares, turning, “take y/n, agree to marry and cherish this woman for the rest of your life, through sickness and in health?” 

He watches you, dressed in bright, red silk robes traditional for a bride and hair pulled into a large updo and adorned with a traditional wedding headpiece. “I do.” He states. 

Everyone erupts in cheers, your father being the loudest of them all. The matchmaker declares, “Then, with the power vested in me, I declare that Y/n and Jungkook are now married! Our city has completed the decree!” 

The villagers burst into music and dancing, women ushering forward with plates of food that they’d just cooked, and the fattest pig’s meat was brought forward with jugs of rice wine to share. You and Jungkook left the premises to change out of your clothes, in order to not get them dirty. 

Jisoo helps you undress and get into your regular clothes. “Jungkook is quite handsome, don’t you think?” She smiles, folding the silk neatly into its box. “You’ve found quite a fiancee.” 

You smile weakly, tying the knot in your shirt. 

“He doesn’t talk much, though, does he?” She ponders aloud, helping you get the pins and the headdress out of your hair. “I love that Eunwoo is a talker. He’s quite expressive, which matches me.”

You hum, erasing the makeup off your face. “Yes, you and your match are quite the pair. You got lucky, Jisoo.” 

She blushes, sighing dreamily. “I still can’t believe I was matched with him. He’s amazing.” 

You chuckle. “I’m sure he thinks the same of you.” 

You catch your gaze in the mirror. The day was full of events, but your face looks haggard and sad. You wonder if you’d ever be able to find someone who thinks so of you. 

Jisoo cherps up. “Oh right, during your wedding, I don’t know if you heard, but there was an official announcement that the Crown Prince Jeon has died.” 

You perk up at the news. “What? Wasn’t he the one who decreed this whole marriage law?” 

She nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, seems like it was a political move to try and increase the population. Quite a move, in my opinion. He would’ve made a fine king. But there are rumors he was assassinated.” 

Frowning, you help her pack up the dress. “The royals are never the type to ever care about people like us. Whether the Crown Prince took the throne or his little brother, it doesn’t matter. They would never make things better for us.” 

Jisoo shrugs. “You never know.” 

When she leaves the room, you think to yourself. If the Crown Prince was the one who’d decreed the nationwide marriage law, and if he was now suddenly dead, there was a chance that the law would be appealed. 

When you and Jungkook get a moment alone, you pull him aside where no one is listening. “We need to think of a plan.” 

He pulls his arm out from where you hold him. “Don’t touch me, how dare you place your hands on me?” You roll your eyes, ignoring his haughty language. “If anyone asks you, we met at the field where the yellow flowers bloom. It was there that you fell in love with me, and asked for my hand in marriage a few years ago. Until now, you were deployed far away as a warrior, and now have returned due to your injuries in battle. That is the story that you must tell the villagers until this is over. Am I clear?” 

He huffs, crossing his arms. “Fine.” 

You frown at him. “What is wrong now?” 

He turns from you. “I wanted to keep those clothes on,” he murmurs, and you frown and tip your ear closer to him. “What?” 

“I wanted to keep the robes on,” he mutters, and you follow his gaze to where Jisoo and Eunwoo return the ceremonial robes back to the kind vendor who’d lent it to them. 

You scoff. “Why? They’re ceremonial robes.” 

“They were quite comfortable. I hate these scratchy clothes your father has put me in.” You finally take a step back to look at him. You giggle. You recognize the outfit, it was one your father had worn years ago and had gotten to fat to fit in anymore. The hemp fits neatly on Jungkook’s shoulders, but he cringes as the scratchy and stiff fabric rubs against his skin. 

You roll your eyes, slapping him. “Don’t be a little baby.” His eyes widen at your actions. “How dare you!” He bellows, “Never put your hands on me, woman!” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “So you are from a rich family, huh? You know how to read, you prefer silk clothing, and you talk like a spoiled little brat. Well, look, Jungkook. Here in the village, we work with the sweat on our backs to make money, and with that money we buy food. Hear that? Food. We don’t go around, and waste our money on things like silk. Instead, we walk into the forest, gather heaploads of grass and weave them together to create this fabric. And only after that’s finished, we sew them together by hand, and wear it for years. Do you understand?!” 

Your voice has gotten quite loud in the rant, and his eyes widen and he seems to shrink a little under your anger. 

Huffing at him, you jam a finger into his chest. “And finally, you never, ever call a lady ‘woman’! That is the language of those rich swines who treat others below them like trash. Here in this village, you treat others with respect, and kindness. I’m not sure if you learned that in your previous cushy lifestyle, but it’s something you need to learn to survive here. Got it? Or else, I’ll kill you, and kill myself after!” 

His eyes go impossibly wide at the last statement and he cowers from you, neck shrinking into his shoulders as he stutters. “O-o-okay, no need to get violent. Jeez.” 

You toss your neck, marching away towards the festivities, smiling. This was going to be a piece of cake. 

Settling into your new home is easy. Your villagers help to build a new section on your square of land, in order to create a private separate section for you and Jungkook. Although he seems complains through most of it, he helps you, your father, and the rest of the villagers plummage through the forest for wood and timber, and carries it back all the way and helps the rest of the men build the structures. 

The room that is eventually built is large enough to house the both of you comfortably, and the ladies in your town had graciously gifted you a set of beautiful blankets for you to share. 

You and Jungkook stare down at the set of blankets neatly laid down with two pillows, side by side. 

“There is absolutely no way that I will sleep in the same bed as you,” he declares. “I will take the new blankets. You may sleep in that corner as to not collect suspicion from the villagers regarding our marriage.

You gape at him. “Seriously? You’re saying that I should sleep on the cold, hard floor while you get the cushy new blankets? A man should be offering the better position to the woman!” 

He frowns at you. “You are to me neither a wife nor a woman. It is only through our agreement that you are somewhat a partner to me, and nowhere in the contract is it states that I must betray my comfort for your convenience.” 

You roll your eyes, and you argue back and forth until you’re about to rip your hair out. 

“Ugh, fine!” You yell, throwing open the closet doors as you fish out your old blankets. You throw them in the corner, and settle in them as you see Jungkook happily skip over to his set and pull the covers all the way up to his chest with a content smile. 

Despite the villagers’ generosity and their help with everything, the extra mouth that you need to feed begins to take a toll on you and your father’s expenses after a few weeks. Before the wedding, you had been making just enough to feed yourself and your father. You’d run odd jobs, such as deliveries or serving food at a local restaurant while your father worked as a carpenter. But Jungkook ate and ate and ate. 

You and your father watch in disgust as Jungkook gobbles down the entire plate of food you’d prepared in minutes. Initially, you’d fought about the food, too. 

“What is this?!” He exclaims, holding up the fish you’d cooked with his chopsticks in disgust, “This tiny monstrosity?! I’ve never even seen a fish this small!” 

You’re unimpressed as you continue to shovel the plain rice that you’d made today into your mouth. “Shut up and eat what you’re given,” you mutter. But he doesn’t stop. 

“I demand that you bring me meat. Like from the wedding! Little did I know that you people eat these insect-looking despicable dishes, if I knew, I would not have agreed!” He continues to rant until you’re fed up too. 

You grab your chopsticks, whipping them up and snatching the fish from his. In one mouthful, the fish is shoved into your own mouth and gulped down. He watches you in shock. You snatch his bowl of rice as well, emptying it into your mouth as you chew loudly and quickly, washing it down with a cup of water. After you swallow, you burp loudly, and smile at him. 

“If you don’t want to eat it, then don’t!” You drop the smile and clear the dishes, throwing them in the sink. 

“What about my dinner?!” He cries, “I just spent the whole day lugging heavy wood on my back, and this is what I’m given?!” 

You sneer back, “Then learn to eat what’s given, Jungkook!” 

After that fiasco, he’d never complained about your food again. But now the problem was, he ate too much. 

“May I have one more?” He says, holding his empty bowl out to you, and you gawk at him. 

“That’s your third bowl, Jungkook. We don’t have any more.” 

He frowns, swallowing his food and pouting. “I want more food, though.” 

You roll your eyes. “If you’re going to eat so much, then get a job! We need to continue to pay rent and you sitting around here all day is doing nothing!” 

He shakes his head. “I refuse. Although I can’t remember much, what I do remember is that I have never been forced to do any sort of labor. And that won’t change now either.” 

You face him with a sly look. “If you don’t work, then I won’t make you food. It’s simple.” 

He drops the haughty expression. “Fine. What can I do?” 

You start off with the easy stuff. Eunwoo gets Jungkook a job as a water carrier for the town. They had to climb the mountains afoot with a yoke centered on their shoulders, either side hung with a heavy clay pot that was to be filled with the clean upstream river water and then returned to the towns people. 

Jungkook pants and huffs as he climbs the hills. He feels the burn in his thighs, but he grits his teeth at the thought of being able to eat some more good food. He’d admit, although the ingredients that you worked with were less than amazing, the way you’d learned to pair them with specific vegetables that you grew personally in the yard or with spices that you’d created yourself had created in him quite an appetite for the food that you made. 

He follows in Eunwoo’s footsteps as the road gets less steep and they pause to take a breather. Eunwoo wipes his sweat with a smile. 

Jungkook mutters, “How are you so happy all the time?” 

Eunwoo leans on a rock as he passes his smaller jug of water over to Jungkook. “How can I be unhappy? I have a beautiful wife, a house to live in, and a series of jobs that bring in enough money for me to be fed. What more should I desire?” He turns to Jungkook. 

Jungkook silently hands over the jug. “Wouldn’t you want a bigger house, some better clothes, or to move into a town that’s better than this one?” 

Eunwoo laughs. “I suppose for someone like you who’s been to the military as a warrior, you were paid quite nicely and given great amenities, but I was born humble and plan to die humble. Jisoo is one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever been granted as a man, and I plan to live fruitfully and responsibly so that I may provide for her and treat her as she deserves to be treated.” 

Jungkook follows Eunwoo’s suit as he stands and picks up the jugs again on his shoulders. Do I feel that way about y/n? Is it wrong that I don’t have any of that for myself towards her? 

His thoughts are cut off when Eunwoo calls out, “We’re almost there! Just ahead, you can hear the brook!” 

Jungkook almost jumps for joy when he arrives at the riverbed, the brook babbling brightly as the clear water streams downhill. He and Eunwoo laugh as they use the cold, fresh water to clean off their hands and faces of sweat, and begin filling their jugs with the water. The creek is beautiful; there are trees overcast that slightly give some shade, while still giving way to the bright blue sky overhead. There are a few birds that chitter and jump from tree to tree while Jungkook and Eunwoo take a breather. There are some beautiful yellow flowers that stud the other bank across the river. Jungkook wonders if maybe that may lead to the yellow flower fields where you’d told him to say you two met. 

Both of them grunt as they feel the weight of the water weighing down on their shoulders, but don’t say a word as they begin the trek down the mountain. 

Suddenly, Eunwoo pauses, and Jungkook stops. “What’s wrong?” He asks, and Eunwoo tips his head as he looks around, listening for sounds. “Wait a second, someone is coming.” 

Like clockwork, Jungkook suddenly hears the distant sound of horses galloping, and they continue toward the sound until they can hear the small group of officials approaching them. 

“Halt!” One of them calls, and when he dismounts from his horse, Jungkook can see that it was the official that had once threatened you a few weeks back, before the wedding. 

“Oh, Jungkook, I see!” The official recognizes, and Jungkook dismounts the jugs from his shoulders to face the official. “I see you’re now a married man, and working hard to provide for the missus at home, yes?” 

Jungkook nods solemnly. 

“Well, we are just checking the premises for intruders. We’ve heard that there have been some muggings in the vicinity, so be on your merry way. Just be careful.” The official smiles and gets on his horse, signaling for the others to follow. As they gallop off, Jungkook narrows his eyes at the emblem engraved on the base of the official’s sword. 

Suddenly, he feels a sharp pain in his head. 

A rustle sounds from near him, and then a shout, and then aching pain in his shoulder. A sword is pointed at him, and he is able to just catch the emblem engraved on the hilt before it’s raised high and whipping towards him.

The flashback ends and Jungkook yells out a strangled cry as he falls towards the ground. 

Eunwoo takes off his yoke and runs back towards Jungkook, shocked and yelling, “Jungkook! Jungkook! Are you alright? Can you hear me?! Jungkook!” 

Jungkook can only see a glimpse of the blue sky above him before everything goes black. 

You’re at home, weaving some baskets as a job from the lady at the market when suddenly you hear distant shouts and galloping. Frowning, you drop the basket and make your way over to the gate of your house, peering over the wood to see what the commotion is all about. But the sound continues to approach, and to your surprise, you see government officials approaching with Jungkook on the back of a horse. 

Eyes widening, you throw open your gate and walk up to the official whom you recognize to be the one who’d dealt with you before. 

He gets off his horse, and Eunwoo dismounts another as they both carry Jungkook into your home. 

“What’s wrong?! What’s wrong with him?!” You cry, and Eunwoo looks at you worriedly. “I don’t know! We were carrying water back to the village when suddenly he starting screaming and then fell to the ground unconscious! Thankfully the officials were nearby when he did, so they were able to bring us back.” 

There’s a crowd of people waiting in your gate entrance, trying to peek at what’s going on. You turn to the official. 

He eyes you, “I remember you. I see that you’ve followed the law and gotten married. I’m sorry that I had to bring your husband in like this. My name is Jimin.” 

You shake your head. “It’s fine, what’s wrong?” 

Jimin shrugs. “I believe that it may be an affect of overwork? I’m not sure. You may need to consult a doctor if he doesn’t wake up soon.” 

You scoff, “He hasn’t worked before! How can it be of overwork?!” 

He shrugs again. “It is up to you, madame, but please do keep in mind that the jugs he was using were broken when he fell, and so you know owe the town money to make up for the loss.”

Your shoulders sag at the comment as the official rides away with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m just doing my job.” 

You nod at him, smiling weakly. “I understand. Thank you, sir.” 

He tips his hat to you, and before he rides away says, “You know, I’ve never met someone like you before. You remind me a lot of someone I used to know. I believe you and your husband will get through this. Good luck.” 

He rides off and you return to your room as the rest of the villagers disperse. Sighing, you sit next to Jungkook’s sleeping figure and check his pulse and put your finger under his nose to make sure he’s still breathing. Although his wounds from before had healed, he had another fresh scratch on his cheek now, you assume from the fall. 

Blinking back tears, you find some clean rags and begin cleaning the cut, gently placing a bandage on it. 

There was no god. There was no such thing as luck. You had just nearly escaped death by marrying a man you didn’t even know, and now you were in more debt than ever. This wasn’t easy at all. You wipe away tears of frustration as you watch Jungkook sleep, and eventually the exhaustion from the day becomes too much as you close your eyes too. 

Jungkook wakes up to a dark room, and a searing pain in behind his eyes. Wincing, he groans as he turns his head to the side, and stops when he sees you curled up next to him on the cold floor. You have one arm tucked underneath your head and your knees are curled up towards your chest in a form of warmth. He glances to your side to see that the first aid kit of bandages had been opened and a bowl of water and rags for his forehead. 

He turns to his side, the headache a little duller as he focuses on your features. You were quite beautiful, he thinks to himself. Not a traditional, eye-catching beauty like Jisoo’s, but a simple kind of beauty that shone through in moments like these. 

Now that you’re sleeping and not frowning or yelling at him, he sees that your eyes are quite soft, your brows framing them nicely and your skin quite smooth. Your lips soft-looking and your cheeks quite supple. You were quite cute, he thinks to himself with a slight smile. 

You seem to be having nightmares, as you suddenly shudder in your sleep and frown, a deep line setting in between your brows. He reaches out, pressing a thumb lightly to the space, and immediately, your expression softens, as you subconsciously inch closer for some warmth. He takes the blanket that’s placed over him and throws it over you, and faces you as you curl into the warmth. 

He reaches out a hand and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear. The headache no longer bothers him anymore. 

You wake up to the sounds of the rooster crowing and some kind of weight on your chest. When you open your eyes, the first thing you see is the face of Jungkook, and the second thing you notice is that you’re only inches away from him, his arm thrown over your shoulders as you’re cuddled up to his torso. 

With a yelp, you jump back, and that seems to wake him up. “What are you doing?!” You yell, covering your chest with your arms. “Why are we sleeping together?!” 

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and faces you with a funny expression. “You’re the one who fell asleep here next to me.” 

You frown, reaching out a putting a hand on his forehead. He slaps it away and you recoil with an eyeroll. “Are you feeling okay?” You ask, looking into his eyes to make sure he’s okay. 

He frowns. “Why am I here?” 

You sigh, leaning back against the wall. “You fell, remember? You fainted while carrying back jugs of water.” 

He frowns again, hands raking over his face. “Yes, I think I remember now...” 

You scoff. “Did you do it on purpose?” 

He turns towards you with an incredulous look. “Excuse me?” 

Crossing your arms, you face him with a hard look. “You’ve been complaining about labor ever since the day we got married. Don’t think for a second that I believe you actually passed out up there. You were fine when carrying down wood for the house. Why did you suddenly faint? You pretended so that you wouldn’t have to work, right?!” 

He faces you with wide eyes that have a tinge of anger. You’ve never seen him with that expression before. “How dare you accuse me of pretending to faint! I had a sudden headache and then I felt myself lose balance, how could you--” 

“Oh, you felt yourself lose balance? Huh?” You mock him, “Well look where it’s gotten us. You may have spent the whole day resting, but you’ve gotten us twenty more nyangs in debt than we already are, especially since you’ve already wasted all our savings on your goddamned food!” 

You stand, gathering the first aid kit and the bowl of water. Glaring back at him, you mutter, “I should have just died back then,” and slam the door shut behind you. Jungkook sighs, raking his hand over his face. 

First it was the random memory, and then now, this. It was far from over. 

For the next few days, Jungkook can’t seem to find you. You’ve completely disappeared, and no matter who he asks, he can’t seem to figure out where you’ve gone. Even your father is as confused as he is. 

Jungkook mutters to himself as he tries his best to figure out how the stove works, as it seems your father has no idea either. This week had been particularly tough, as Jungkook had to figure out when to water the plants, go get the water from the stream again with Eunwoo, clean the stables, retreive eggs from the chickens without getting his eyes clawed out, and prepare meals for himself and your father in the meantime. His back hurt like crazy, and he’d also almost gotten kicked in the arm earlier by accidentally trying to milk a male cow. He was absolutely at his wits’ end. 

Eunwoo stops by with a sheepish smile. “Jisoo offered to prepare you some fried cakes, would you like some?” Jungkook graciously accepts and Eunwoo sits next to your father as Jungkook continues muttering to himself, trying to put more kindling into the fire underneath the iron stove and poking it with a stick. “Just wait a little longer friend,” Eunwoo calls out, “Jisoo is returning soon from the market and said she’d stop by.” 

Finally, she arrives, with a big smile on her face and a package of some sorts. She greets her husband with a shy kiss. Jungkook watches as they giggle into the kiss, before Jisoo breaks apart and bounds over to Jungkook and revealing what she has. Jungkook almost falls into the fire when he sees what she’s holding. 

“Oh my! Get that out of my face!” He cries, falling backward and scrambling away from the thing. 

She frowns, “But Jungkook, you’ve been asking for fish ever since you got here. I found some fresh bass for you, for a great price at the market! We can finally have some good fish tonight!” 

Jungkook frowns at the slimy thing. It’s still alive, gills gaping for air as its eyes bulge ugly out its head and its tail still squirming about. He squeezes his eyes shut and holds back a gag. “I think I’m gonna be sick,” he wheezes. 

Jisoo rolls her eyes. “Can you prepare it so that I can cook it? Usually the men do that here.” 

Jungkook shakes his head no, and Eunwoo sighs, standing up and approaching them. “Here, let me help,” he says, crouching down next to the both of them and demonstrating as he retreives the kitchen knife from the counter, the same knife Jungkook had spent the entire afternoon looking for. 

He smiles at Jungkook, ever still the innocent one. “First, you have to kill it the most painless way possible, while removing the blood. You take the blade, place it under here, where the neck meets the body, and---” 

The moment Eunwoo slices the fish, Jungkook passes out again. 

“Jungkook, Jungkook!” Jisoo shakes him awake, sighing at his form. “You fainted again. But in the meantime, Eunwoo and I prepared some food for you. Hopefully you’re okay with seeing fish in an edible form. Come eat.” 

Jungkook joins them on the table and carefully lifts the table cover, sighing in relief when instead of a live fish, he sees Jisoo’s carefully cooked dinner waiting for him to eat. “Oh thank god,” he mutters, picking up his chopsticks. He happily thanks her, digging in and smiling at the taste. 

One thing he notes, is that Jisoo tends to oversalt her fish. He thinks to himself that he quite misses your cooking. 

“So Jisoo, what brings you here?” He asks, and she looks up at him with a confused expression. 

“Y/n asked me to cook you guys a meal or two while she was gone. She didn’t tell you?” 

Jungkook frowns. “I have no idea where she’s gone. I thought she’d run away because she didn’t want to have me for a husband.” 

Jisoo laughs. “No, she’ll be back. She didn’t tell me what she was doing, but she often disappears once every month for a couple days. In fact, I think that’s her coming!” 

She stands and all the men’s eyes follow as Jisoo runs to the gate, and you return, dressed in the most beautiful gown Jungkook has ever seen you in. 

It’s a beautiful soft pink, adorned with flowers and he watches you in awe as you put on a big smile and throw your arms around Jisoo in greeting. You greet your father, and when you meet his eyes, Jungkook perks up, putting on a tiny smile as he expects you to return the smile. 

But instead, you frown and just greet Eunwoo, ignoring Jungkook as you stalk back out of the gate. Jungkook jumps up, running over to follow you. 

“Where have you been!” He demands, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. He’s breathing heavily, and his brows are furrowed as he continues to yell. “What kind of a wife leaves her husband for days without telling him where she’s gone! Did you know how worr--” He cuts himself off, blinking at his own words. 

You frown at him. “You were worried?” You cock your head at him, and he clears his throat. 

“No,” he blurts, glaring at nothing in particular. “It made me very.....uncomfortable.” 

You roll your eyes, yanking your arm out of his grip. “You make me quite uncomfortable too, got that? Because of your stupidity, I had to go work on a job for a few days to earn enough money to pay off those jugs that you broke, and made a little more to feed us for the next couple of days.” 

He frowns, “Why would you do that?” 

You give him a scoff. “Seriously? Of course I have to do this, you don’t want to work, my father isn’t making any money right now, and we’re in debt. What do you mean why?” 

“I thought you’d left me,” he says, blinking up at you and instead of the angry expression he was sporting earlier, he seems a bit softer now, a bit poutier even. 

You sigh, “Unfortunately, I can’t just up and leave because we have a contract to uphold.” 

He tugs at your skirt. “Where did you get these nice clothes?” 

Turning, you give him a smile, and Jungkook has to keep himself from smiling back. “Aren’t these beautiful? They were a gift!” 

He frowns. “A gift? From who?” 

“The general.” 

Jungkook’s fist tightens. “The general? You mean the man who you refused to marry? The work you did was for him?” 

You purse your lips. “I know how it sounds, but despite the obvious pervertedness, he still has quite an influence on our town and the only way to make enough money to cover the jugs that you broke was to help serve food at his birthday celebration.” 

Jungkook grits his teeth. “Is that why you’re wearing makeup?” 

You’re shocked that he noticed. Earlier today, one of the other waitresses that you’d been working with had offered the girls some of her own blush and lipstick, saying that when you wore some color, the officials were more likely to give bigger tips. And she was right. You’d earned enough to feed your family for a month and to cover Jungkook’s mistake. 

Shrugging, you nod. “Yes?” 

The angry expression sets in his features again. “You shall not wear makeup for that man again. This is an order.” 

You laugh at his words. “What? Are you seriously ordering me around? Why, are you jealous or something?” 

He frowns. “If these emotions running through me right now are called being ‘jealous,’ then so be it. I hate the thought of that man looking at you with makeup on and a beautiful dress and giving you money thinking that it might be a way for him to get his disgusting hands on you. You are my wife!” 

You’re shocked at his outburst, your mind completely going blank. You do what you do best, which is to bark back a retort. “Well, I wouldn’t have had to do this if it weren’t for you--” 

Jungkook leans in, cutting you off with a searing kiss. He does’t quite remember if he’s had any experience with any other women, but his body seems to recognize this. He just didn’t know how else to shut you up. He holds your waist close as he leans into you, your smell enveloping his senses as he opens his mouth to slot his lips in between yours. 

You fall silent, eyes wide as he steps closer and his tongue flicks against your lower lip quickly before he detaches from you. He first smirks at your shocked expression, and presses his lips together. “Mm,” he comments, “tastes sweet.” At your horrified expression, he leans in to wipe the corner of your mouth, successfully erasing the remnants of the color left on your lips. 

“There we go,” he quips. And leans back. When you take a breath to yell out whatever curses there are in the world at him, he stops you and goes first. 

“We may be in a contract marriage, but Term 3 clearly states that we must uphold the appearances in order to look like a married couple. You shouldn’t act like you’re single in front of that pervert in order to make up for my mistakes. For what you did I’m grateful, and I owe you a debt, but in the future, I’d like it if you would not submit yourself to those things. You are above those things.” 

You watch him silently as he continues. “Let me find out what kind of work I can do. I do not want you to be hurt anymore or have to worry about money again. I will uphold my part of the agreement.” 

He turns and walks back into the house as you watch in shock. 

You press a hand to your chest. What was this fluttering feeling for? 

Spring fades into summer as the two of you continue on living. Jungkook continues to work odd jobs here and there, and manages to make enough money to support the three of you comfortably. You’re able to start patching up the holes in the roof and the stables, and buy new clothes for yourself and Jungkook to wear comfortably. You two never speak of the kiss again, but you find that the both of you settle into a comfortable pattern of life and work. 

Towards the end of the season when the days seem to start getting cooler, one of the marketplace workers notices how hard Jungkook works, and offers him a job at the local bookstore. You and Jungkook squeal in delight at the amount that he’s making, and later to more delight, discover that he can also make much, much more transcribing books by hand for the local bookstore. So in the mornings, Jungkook goes and helps as a bookkeeper, and returns later in the afternoon to eat his dinner and the both of you work on transcribing books together. 

He teaches you to write better. Ever since you’d run away from home as a little girl, life in the village didn’t really grant you a lot of experience to continue practicing your writing. It was good, but not great. So night after night, Jungkook patiently watches you painstakingly use the brush to transcribe the stories that were the most popular. 

Together, you’d begun from novels about dragons and fairies, and when the vendor was quite pleased with how neatly the books were written, you and Jungkook were given more tasks to do, including transcribing some political and economic books. 

As the months passed, this became sort of a routine, as you’d begun using the money now to buy better ingredients for the meals you made for him at the market. Your home had now been patched up and upgraded as best as you could, and you’d bought a few more chickens and had gifted your father a new set of clothes and warm blankets. Jungkook seemed content with his now more comfortable set of new clothes and the hefty meals you prepared. Life was beginning to settle and improve. 

Jungkook frowns as he transcribes one night, “Hm,” he muses, “The King has decreed that his next youngest son shall be the next King.” 

You scoot closer to him to read what he’s looking at. You hum, “Interesting, I wonder if that will improve anything.” 

He looks at you, “What do you mean?” 

You shrug, resuming your own transcription. “Whenever the royals shuffle amongst themselves, or the generals and officials fight for the throne, it doesn’t really seem to affect us or benefit us.” 

Jungkook frowns, staring down at the announcement he was asked to reproduce. “I read in the political books I transcribed that the morals that this country was founded upon were that the King and the government must be of the people, for the people.” 

Sighing, you stare down at the political text you’d been copying. It spoke of the same values. “I know. It would be nice if we could return to a time like that, no? But unfortunately, while people like us are struggling to make ends meet and jumping for joy at the opportunity to patch up our roof, there are the royals who sit on their throne and are planning what their next party will be like, or what country they want to conquer. We are of different worlds, and it has been ages since we’ve had a King who truly cares for the people.”

Jungkook sighs. “If I were King, I would immediately do away with those stupid parties. And those disgusting men who sit in their positions without doing anything.” 

You smile at him, “Like that pig who has six concubines?”

He laughs, “Exactly like him.” You laugh back, and Jungkook has to pause for a second, as he catches himself staring at your expression in the candlelight. 

But you see him before he can stop himself, and you ask, “What, is there something on my face?” 

Jungkook sets down his brush. “You’re quite beautiful when you smile. Why don’t you do that more often?” 

Your smile falls as you coldly return to your transcription. Jungkook curses himself for asking you a question that removed the smile from your face. He also silently returns to his work, unsure of what to say next. 

“I’m not my father’s daughter, you know.” 

Jungkook’s hand pauses in his calligraphy, but he doesn’t say anything and just looks up at you as you continue in your own writing. You don’t look up to him and continue speaking. 

“I had to run, far, far away from my real home. My parents were murdered by some people, and my brother and I hid in the forest until the men were gone. I was supposed to meet my brother on the bridge near the river, but he never came back to get me.” 

“So I ran, far away, where they can’t find me and where they gave up trying to look for me. I eventually swam down the river and was found by my father, now. And even though I return to that bridge secretly every month when the moon is at its fullest, he’s never shown for the past twenty years. Although life has gotten a little better with you, I can’t say that my life was a good one, nor will it be. I’ll always be an orphan and I’ll always be the one who lost her family. So it seems that more often than not I find myself feeling sad sometimes.” 

You feel a tear roll down your cheek. It’s been a while since you shared that with anyone. The only ones being your own father and Jisoo. Suddenly, you hear him arise from his seated position near you and in moments he’s gripping you close, cradling your head close to his chest as he hugs you. 

“Don’t cry,” he murmurs, and you feel it within his chest. The warmth is comforting, and you lift your hands to settle on his broad back. “Why do you say that you have no family? I read in a poem I transcribed that family is not defined by bloodlines nor wealth, but in the love and care we have for eachother. Your father loves you, and so do Jisoo and Eunwoo. And I am your family as well.” 

Your tears fall a little faster at that. A dull ache beats in the pit of your chest as he continues. “I am your husband. Jisoo and Eunwoo are our friends. Your father is my father-in-law. We are a family.” 

You sob louder in his arms and he murmurs more sweet words as he rocks you and shushes you. But the reason why you cry isn’t because he’s healing all your wounds, but because he’s healing your wounds with promises you know he can’t keep. 

He was your husband for only one year, and it’s already passed a few months, into the Autumn, which meant that its been halfway. He had no idea when he would regain his memories back, or who he was. For all you knew, he could be a general’s son, destined to go into glorious battles and lead his troops into war for the sake of the country. Or he could be a son of someone who works in the Castle, or a royal even. 

Anywho, whichever house he belonged to, it would be millions of times better than now, and you knew that he would leave without even a glance back. It was in anyone’s nature. 

So as he continues to make promises, you let him hold you a little longer, because you know that this will all come to an end someday. You apologize to whatever god is out there. You’d never been selfish. You’d always worked hard to feed and fend for your family. 

So you make one, single, selfish wish. 

I wish I could stay like this forever, and that he won’t leave me. 

Before the autumn ends, Jungkook returns one day with a tree.

“What the heck?!” You cry, as him and Eunwoo grunt with the effort of carrying the thing off the truck and burying it into the entrance of your home. “What are you doing?!”

Jungkook smiles, shoveling the dirt back into the roots. “I bought us a tree.”

You put your hands on your hips. “I can see that, but why?!”

He laughs, leaning on the shovel and laughing boyishly at you. “Look!”

He points up and although most of the branches have succumbed to the autumn weather and turned their leaves red and orange and yellow, you can see the buds of the flowers peeking through. Yellow flowers.

“Remember?” Jungkook says, wiping the sweat off his brow, “We met here, in the fields of yellow flowers.” He wiggles his brows at you.

Your heart sinks at the memory of the lie you’d told him to recite to others.

“Why?” You ask softly.

He softens at your expression approaching you and rubbing your arms. “Oh, don’t be sad. It was just so beautiful I wanted to put it here. I thought you’d like it. It’s our little inside secret.”

You blink away the tears. Why was he so kind? It made it harder to distinguish what was real and what wasn’t. 

Jungkook’s heart sinks when he sees you go back into the house with slumped shoulders. He really thought you would like it.

You did like it. You loved it. That was the problem. 

You’d counted the months that had passed since your agreement, and it had been more than half a year. That quickly, life had become so adjusted to having Jungkook around, you didn’t know how to distinguish what was real or not. 

But deep down, you knew that the pang in your chest everytime he smiled at you, or the worrying feeling deep in your gut everytime he arrived home late all indicated that you indeed had developed a deep sense of...emotion for your husband. 

You were just too scared to admit it was love. 

Because for you, everytime you had fallen in love or let yourself feel love, those people or things had been taken away from you. Your only wish was that Jungkook wouldn’t be taken away. But that in itself was quite the selfish wish. He really could have been betrothed to someone out there, and there might be a woman like you, waiting for her husband to return home achingly. 

You would never wish that upon someone. 

But you can’t ignore the pain that settles in your heart when you imagine Jungkook returning home to any other woman besides yourself.

Later that week, Jungkook is taking his daily walk to the bookstore, when he pauses at the sight of a woman putting out her daily goods. She seems to own a female’s clothing store, and in the front of her display, she proudly puts a series of colorful shoes that catch his eye.

He approaches the stall, and the kind lady greets him with a smile. “Looking for a present for your wife?”

He nods, “Yes. I don’t know her taste, however.”

She laughs, “My dear, you don’t know a thing about women. It isn’t what you’re buying her. It’s that you’re buying something for her at all. Tell me a little about her.”

He muses, folding his hands behind his back. “Well, she’s about yeh tall, and seems to be a healthy weight. She always has her hair up in a--”

The lady laughs again. “No, not her features. Her personality. Tell me about her.”

Jungkook pauses, blinking down at his feet as he thinks.

“Well, first, she’s very strong. Not as in she can lift heavy things, because she can’t. I know, because she asks me to do them for her and I like doing them. But she’s strong in that I’ve never met anyone else who is as confident and fearless as she is. When I first met her, she was literally staring into the eyes of her own death without blinking. I admire that. She has no fear.”

“She’s also really kind. Underneath that fearlessness, she’s very attentive. She notices what I like to eat and don’t like to eat, and sometimes when I come home in a bad mood, she’ll do her best to prepare me a nice warm bath and extra servings of food.”

“And she’s also very delicate. She may hate to think that, but I love that underneath that hard shell, is a soft inner shell that’s kind and soft and pure. I love seeing glimpses of that while living as her husband.”

Jungkook looks up at the woman as he finishes. She has a knowing smile on her face.

“Well, dear, looks like we have a man here who’s desperately in love with his wife. For you, I’d recommend these.”

She points towards a pair of beautiful pink slippers, adorned with drawings of cherry blossoms and threaded with deep maroon thread that seemed to glisten in the sun. He smiles. They would look perfect on you.

“How much?” He asks.

She laughs, putting the shoes in a package for him. “I usually try to charge a bit more in order to make some money off of the sale, but I bought these for 10 nyangs, so I only ask for 10.”

He frowns, “Are you sure ma’am? You’d be making no profit...”

She smiles, handing over the package to him. “I’m sure. You remind me of me and my husband. That’s true love right there.”

Jungkook hands over the money with a solemn expression. “True love?”

She smiles. “Yes, dear. The kind of love that makes you fearless, the kind of selfless love. A love that you would die for. You seem young so you might be of the generation that had to marry on such short notice, but I can tell by the way you talk about her that you care for her very deeply. Only men who love their wives can talk like that. I’m happy for you. Now go and give her those shoes.”

Jungkook stares at the shoes as he walks towards the bookstore.

True love? Was it true that he’d fallen for you? He tucks them into his pocket.

Needing to think about that conversation more, he keeps the shoes in the bookstore and returns home without the present.

Jungkook watches you light up when he enters the gates in the evening, and you smile at him, gesturing to the table of food you’d prepared. “Jungkook!” You exclaim, bounding up to him, “How was work?”

“Good,” he sighs, falling into step with you as you guide him to where you’ve prepared dinner. “I’m hungry,” he smiles.

You return the smile brightly, and unveil the meal you’d prepared. “I made the fried cakes you like, and the kimchi is seasoned just right today. And I found some fresh fish at the market today, so Jisoo and I bought two to prepare for you and Eunwoo. We figured we’d treat our husbands to something nice and fattening, so that when the winter comes, you have some meat on your bones.”

Our husband. He likes the ring of that.

He digs in, listening attentively as you tell him about the town gossip, and of what happened in your day, and he reciprocates, sharing stories of the strange customers that frequented the bookstore.

When he’s finished eating, you stand to clear away his dishes, but he stops you, smiling as he takes his own dishes to the basin. “I’ll clean, you should rest.”

You smile at him and watch as he turns to clean the dishes, stacking them neatly as he finishes them one by one. When he’s finished, he joins you on your porch, as you both lean against the house and watch the stars.

The lantern beautifully lights up the underside of the tree that he’d bought, and the stars against the beautiful night sky makes this a scene that takes his breath away.

The wind blows a bit colder tonight, and when he sees you shudder, he lets you lean against him as he curls an arm around you. The both of you fall into a comfortable silence as you watch the stars.

“What are you thinking about?” He murmurs, watching your face lit up by the warm candlelight as you watch the sky.

You have a small smile on your lips as you gaze. “Just about how happy I am right now. I really like the tree, I wish I told you earlier.”

Jungkook smiles, looking at you knowingly. “I thought you didn’t like it cause it was a waste of our money.”

You turn to him with wide eyes, “No, no, that’s not it.” You chuckle, “I like it very much, thank you.”

Jungkook lets you settle back into his warmth as you both continue to look at the stars. His eyes drift downward to the tree, which is fluttering slightly in the wind. The leaves are beginning to fall. His eyes continue to trail downward, and he rests on your feet, and how the hemp straw shoes that you wore were beginning to fall apart a bit at the sides.

He bites his lip. It was still a bit longer until the streets would close. Maybe he had a little bit of time.

He stands, holding a hand out to you, “Will you come with me somewhere?”

You take his hand, confusedly following as he makes a beeline for the gate. “Where are we going?  At this time in the evening?”

He doesn’t reply as he continues down the road towards the market, stalking quickly and determinedly towards the bookstore. Your cheeks flame at the fact that his hand is tightly wrapped around yours.

“Did you forget to bring some books back from the bookstore?” You ask, struggling to keep up, but when he arrives at the store, he faces you.

“Sit here,” he instructs, and you confusedly take a seat in front of the store as he unlocks the door and rummages around for something. “Aha!” He cries from inside, and you crane your neck to try and peer into the store, but he calls out, “close your eyes!” from inside.

You frown, yelling back, “Why?”

He yells back, “I’m not coming out until you promise to keep your eyes closed.”

You laugh a little, but reply, “Okay, fine!” And close your eyes.

You hear him peep out to check if you were telling the truth, and then after confirming that you were, indeed, closing your eyes as you’d promised, he shuffles out towards you.

You hear him kneel in front of you, and suddenly, he grips your ankle and takes your straw shoes off. Your eyes fly open in shock and you gasp. “What’re you doing?”

He looks up at you with a soft smile. “You broke the promise, you were supposed to keep your eyes shut.”

You frown at him. “What?”

He shakes his head a little, but grins up at you anyways. “Well since you have your eyes open, you can watch me do this.”

He peels open a paper package to reveal two dainty shoes, pink and made with the finest fabrics and thread. He gently places one of them on your foot. A weight settles deep into your chest at the way he smiles at you after he’s done.

“I wanted to buy you something meaningful, not something for the house or something we can both enjoy like the tree, but something specifically for you. I saw these on my way to work today.”

Your eyes fill with tears as you look down at the way the shoes adorn your feet. It’s been years since you’ve been able to wear shoes like these. And these were perfect. Too perfect.

This was beginning to become too perfect. It scared you like hell. 

The next morning, you wake Jungkook up with a solemn expression, and he’s immediately worried. He’s become quite sensitive to your mood changes and emotions, and he can tell by the way you speak or the way you make your way around the kitchen that you have something on your mind. 

As he eats, you take a deep breath, and speak. 

“I think you should go with my father today and visit the river where he found you.” 

Jungkook stops with a mouthful of rice. “What?” 

“You should try to find your memory soon. Maybe going to the river may trigger your memory to come back again.” 

He sets his soon spoon, looking at you with a heavy expression. “And then? If I find my memories again?” 

You stare down at your hands, lip trembling a bit at the next part. “We agreed that if you found your memory, we would revisit the contract’s terms. But I thought it would be a good idea for you to at least try.” 

Jungkook sighs, as he glares at the tree and how the leaves are beginning to fall and create a pile of dead color on the ground. He had just gotten into a routine, feeling more and more content about staying here with you. He’d even had a moment last night when he’d wanted to confess that he’d fallen in love with you, and that he was considering just continuing to live here with you. 

But it seems like you had different ideas. 

He clears his throat, finishing off his cup of water. “Good idea,” he grits, squaring his shoulders. If this was what you wanted, then he would do anything for you. 

He stands. “Thank you for breakfast, I think if we are to find out something today, we should leave as soon as possible. I’ll go next door and let father know that we’ll be leaving soon.” He leaves without another word, nor a look in your direction. 

The tear that had been balancing on your lashes finally falls. 

This was all for his own good. 

Jungkook and your father begin a trip with a couple more townspeople who are trekking up the mountains to obtain some more water for the coming cold season. The villagers bring along some donkeys and horses to help carry the heavy jugs, while Jungkook and his partner are empty handed. Their mission wasn’t to find water, it was to find the truth. 

As they walk up the winding path, Jungkook and your father fall behind a bit as your father begins explaining some things here and there. 

“This path we’re on,” he whispers to Jungkook, “Is the path that I brought you down from the river. We’re almost there.”

“Father,” Jungkook murmurs, “What was I wearing when you found me? And where did you keep me?” 

His father-in-law cranes his neck as he looks at the direction the rest of the villagers were heading in. “Follow me,” he whispers, and heads towards the fork in the road and begins climbing a different road than the group. Jungkook follows, stumbling over rocks and tree roots as they climb into a different side of the road into a small clearing, where Jungkook can see a tiny series of huts sits, made of straw and wood. 

His father-in-law climbs into one of them, and knocks politely on the door. 

Immediately, it opens to reveal a very old man, who greets you father with a stern smile, and then settles his gaze on Jungkook. 

“Oh, you’re alive!” The grandpa exclaims. Jungkook confusedly asks, “I’m sorry, how do we know eachother?” 

Your father pipes up. “This is the mountain healer. He’s the one who helped nurse you back to health when I found you nearby. Here, look, I even kept the clothes that you were wearing when I found you.” The grandpa holds out a package for Jungkook, and he frowns, holding it close. 

He gives the healer a deep bow. “Thank you very much, I owe you my life.” 

The healer laughs, clapping Jungkook on the back. “Seems like you’ve recovered very well. You look quite healthy and strong.” 

Your father chuckles, “Actually, elder, we’ve come to re-visit you to inquire of some questions. Jungkook here still hasn’t found his memory, and we believe that it’s because of his injury that he’s not able to remember where he’s from or even what his previous name is. Do you remember anything while you were nursing him back to health?” 

The elderly healer frowns, as he cocks his head. Jungkook takes a seat next to him, leaning in to hear what he has to say. 

“I remember not much, but I do recall that you did talk a lot in your sleep when you were healing. You would sometimes burst into incoherent yelling, or sometimes talk with a stern voice.” 

Jungkook leans in. “What did I say?” 

“I don’t recall much, but I do remember you talking about the ‘Road that Winds to the East,’ whatever that means.” 

Jungkook frowns and turns to your father. “Does that mean anything, father?” 

He frowns too, “Well there are only a few main roads here in these woods, and most of them I know by heart. Elder, may I borrow your map?” 

He retreieves it from a cabinet as your father continues to speaking. “Look, this road that we just came in from leads to the North. The only road that would go from the East and West would be this one. But there’s no way...” 

“Why?” Jungkook asks. 

“That’s the road that leads to and from the Castle and the Capitol.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he stares at the road that indeed winds directly from the capitol towards the forest that he was found in. He’s about to ask the elder another question when suddenly, there’s a bit of commotion outside. 

Eunwoo barges into the hut, panting heavily as he wipes his sweat away. “Jungkook! Father! I’ve been looking for you everywhere! The group said that you’d broken off from them a bit back so I borrowed a horse and came here. You need to hurry! You need to go back!” 

Jungkook stands, frowning as he helps Eunwoo take a seat. “What’s wrong?!” 

Eunwoo stares up at Jungkook with eyes full of fear. “Y/N! She’s been taken! She’s in danger!” 

You’d spent most of the afternoon blinking and wiping away tears as you wove as many baskets as you could. But the moisture in your eyes prevented you from clearly seeing the needle you were working with, so your fingers were horribly sore and swollen by the time the sun was at its highest point. 

Sighing, you lean back and close your eyes, head heavy as you think of how Jungkook might not return today. 

Suddenly, you hear your gate being thrown open, as a group of men in dark colored, torn clothes enter your property. Immediately you stand, clenching your fists. “Who are you?!” 

The men ignore you, only one glancing your way as they begin to ransack your home, ignoring your screams. You flail and beat your fists against them as they tear open the doors of your new house, throwing the closet doors open and rustling through the clothes and blankets. Another destroys the chicken coop and another kicks the doors of your father’s place open and does the same to his belongings. 

“What are you doing!” You scream, crying as the men destroy in minutes what you and Jungkook had worked tirelessly to create and repair. “Stop! How dare you!” 

The ringleader gets tired of your screams and slaps you straight across your face. The impact and the shock makes you tumble back, hand held to the burning cheek in terror. “Shut up, bitch! We’ve gotten orders from the general officer that you and your husband owe him a debt. We’re here to collect on his orders.”

You scream back in shock. “That swine? I owe him nothing! What are you talking about?! I never borrowed anything from him!” 

One of his men emerges from your bedroom, holding up the pink dress that you and the other waitresses had been gifted after the idiot’s birthday party celebration. “Sir! Look what I found!” 

The ringleader smiles nastily down at you. “So you’re lying to me, eh? How does a poor woman like you afford a dress like this? And shoes like yours?” 

You look down at the shoes on your feet, now scuffed from the dirt when he’d hit you. “They were bought with our hard earned money! We have no fault!” You rush up to him and try to wrestle the dress out of his hands, but he’s stronger than you and grips your wrists as you struggle. Suddenly, you feel a searing pain on your back and everything goes black. 

When you come to, you panic at the feeling of your hands being immobile, and then you realize that the rest of your body is bound tightly against a tree trunk with some thick rope. 

You scream, struggling against the ropes, but the ringleader from earlier comes into your line of vision, smirking nastily as he surveys how you struggle. “We sent someone to go find your husband. Either he can bring us the money, or we can just sell you off to some hostels and get the money ourselves. It’s his choice.” 

Your eyes widen. “What?! My husband?!” 

He nods. “Hopefully he’ll come. I heard that the marriage was done last minute, but hopefully he loves you enough to know that the moment he refuses to comply to our terms, it’s over for the both of you.” 

He smiles at you, his disgusting breath fanning over your face as you glare in horror at him, “In fact,” he says, tilting his head and turning around, “here someone comes.” 

You hear it too, the sound of heavy horse steps beating the ground as you see Jungkook approaching on a horse that you’ve never seen before. You scream out as soon as he stops the animal, “No! Don’t come any closer! Run!” You struggle and wriggle against the bindings as much as you can, but the men have already surrounded the horse and your husband, and Jungkook dismounts easily, facing the men with a hard glare. 

He takes one look at you and gives you a nod as you cry and struggle against the rope, but it doesn’t give much slack. He reaches up into the saddle of the horse to pull out a long bamboo stick, and immediately lunges for one of the men. 

You watch in shock as he deftly uses the stick to go nimbly for the vulnerable parts of each man, crouching under the swing of their swords and using that moment to hit the stiff bamboo against their shins or their kneecaps, or using it to knock the air out of their lungs with a hard swing to their chest or shoulders. 

Jungkook uses a tree to jump off of as he hits a man on his head, and uses the dazed burglar as leverage to kick another in the chest. In that moment though, he stumbles to the ground, and the searing pain in his head returns again. 

A rustle sounds from near him, and then a shout, and then aching pain in his shoulder. A sword is pointed at him, and he is able to just catch the emblem engraved on the hilt before it’s raised high and whipping towards him.

It was exactly the same vision he’d had when he was getting water. But this time there was more. 

He raises his gaze and sees that the one who wields the sword has a gaze so sharp and fierce, that it takes his breath away. 

In the moment of distraction, one of the burglars manages to get his sword close enough to deliver a slice on Jungkook’s bicep. He cries out, stumbling as you scream his name, but he picks himself back up and charges towards the men.

He finishes them off one by one, and you watch in amazement and horror as your husband neatly lands on the ground with all the men groaning in pain. 

You see a movement in the corner of your eye and see that the ringleader is reaching over for his sword on the ground, and you cry, “Jungkook! Look out!” 

Jungkook turns, immediately catching sight of him and runs over, kicking the sword away and flipping it up with his feet. It lands neatly in his hand and he points the tip at the ringleader’s neck with a movement so fast you hear the sound of the sword slicing the air. Jungkook frowns. “You should probably leave, and never come back, now that I have a sword in my hands. I can do much more damage with this than I did with the bamboo stick.” 

The ringleader spits a mouthful of blood, and in seconds, him and his helpers scramble out of the woods, tail in between their legs as they limp away. 

When they’re all out of sigh, Jungkook immediately turns and runs over to you, using the sword to cut away all of the ropes. As soon as your hands are free, you lunge towards him, throwing your arms around his shoulders as you sob into his neck.

“I’m sorry,” you cry, “It’s all my fault, I should have never gone to that man’s birthday celebration. I should’ve never believed him,” and Jungkook just holds you close, his large hands spanning across your back as he presses you close to him. 

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he whispers, and he pulls back to survey your face. He softly ghosts a thumb over the red mark on your cheek, eyebrows furrowing at the mark. “Did he hit you?” 

You nod, hand coming up to cup the sore spot. His jaw grits, “I should’ve killed him.” 

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine. Please, let’s just go home. I’ll be okay. What about your arm?” Your hands grab for him, and when you push up his sleeve, you see that the cut isn’t very deep, but it bleeds nonetheless, staining his clothes. 

Your eyes widen, tears brimming as you scramble to find the hem of your dress to tear a piece of fabric away, but he stops you, your hand enclosed in his fist. He gives you a gentle smile. “I’ll be okay, wife. Don’t ruin your clothes for this, either.”  

He helps you up and onto the back of his horse, and you lean into his back, arms clasped around his waist as he leads the both of you in the direction to where home is. You mutter in his ear. “When did you learn to ride a horse? And to fight like that?” 

Jungkook frowns, “I’m not sure. When I heard you were in danger, I just took the first and fastest thing I could find, which was Eunwoo’s horse. And then when I got here...I just didn’t think.” 

You rest your head on his shoulder blade. “If you know how to write, how to read, fight, and horseback ride, you must have been from an affluent family.” 

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. He now realizes that in the hurry to get back to you, he’d dropped the package that contains the clothes he was found in. He hopes that either your father or Eunwoo had enough sense to bring it back home with them. He makes a different turn with the horse than the one you’re used to. 

“Where are we going?” 

He turns back to smile at you. “Do you trust me?” 

He rides for a little bit until he arrives at a meadow, and your eyes go wide at the scene. It’s the field of yellow flowers. Now that the autumn is almost over, the summer wild flowers are now receding from their full bloom, and the fields are now a beautiful golden color as the green begins to fade away into  a beautiful beige and yellow golden field. You gasp as Jungkook helps you dismount, and you marvel at the beautiful scene against the backdrop of the beautiful sunset. Everything was golden. 

His voice sounds from behind you. “You told me to tell others that you and I fell in love here in these fields.” 

You nod, still staring at the scene. “It was always a dream of mine, to fall in love in these fields. They’re absolutely beautiful.” 

You hear his footsteps approach, and he stands in front of you, in his beauty. “Can’t it become true?” 

Your eyes widen as your mouth drops slightly. “What? What are you talking about?” 

He reaches for your hand. “Today I realized, that that I am in love with you. At first, I wasn’t sure. I thought they might be feelings of filial love, out of duty or just a camaraderie from spending the past few months with you. But today, when I dropped everything in order to come for you, and when I saw you tied up to that tree with that bruise on your face, I couldn’t think or see anything. I knew that I had to save you. If it meant dying, then I knew in that moment that I would die fighting to protect you.” 

Your tears fall as your breath gets caught in your throat. He just smiles down softly at you. 

“Would it be so terrible, if we actually did fall in love in these fields?” He whispers, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “Would it be so far from your dreams if I were to continue to be your husband?” 

You shake your head, and whisper, “No,” you hiccup, “it would be absolutely perfectly perfect,” before he leans down and captures your lips in his. 

Unlike the kiss you had earlier in the spring, this one is hungry, and desperate. He holds you to him like you might fade away, and his lips hungrily swipe across yours as if its a declaration, a mark of his true dedication to you. Your tears fall and he easily swipes them away with his thumbs as you clutch him and press yourself up against him as close as you can, breathing in his scent, feeling him, perfectly lined up against you. 

You both return and deal with the hysterics of your father, Eunwoo, and Jisoo. Some of the villagers have come to help you repatch the things that the burglars destroyed, and after they’re finished, the moon is high into the air and most of everything back to normal. You would have to pay to get some things re-done and patched up, but the selfless villagers had done more than enough to help you and Jungkook. 

While you and Jisoo go aside to prepare some dinner for everyone who helped, your father pulls Jungkook aside. 

“Here,” he says, handing Jungkook the paper package. “I brought this to give to you.” 

Jungkook thanks him as he stares meaningfully down at the package. Your father peers at him, “Aren’t you going to open it? What you were wearing might hold an important clue to who you were before all of this.” 

Jungkook smiles, clutching the package in his fist. “No, father.” He leads him over to the campfire in the center of the yard, and tosses the paper package into the flames. Both men watch as the package burns quickly, the sparks flying into the night sky. Jungkook murmurs only loud enough for your father to hear. “I would rather live as Y/n’s husband happily, than to go back to a past that I might not be as happy in.” He turns to the elder. “Father, I would like to ask for your daughter’s hand.” 

The elder man laughs, staring and sighing up at the sky. “My dear boy, I’ve thanked the gods every single day that you were the one I found. Even though it was only meant for a year, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so happy.” At those words, the two of them look over to you, who’s happily serving dishes to everyone who’d volunteered to help, laughing and smiling and drinking with them as they cheer and dig into the hefty dinner. 

Your father grips Jungkook’s hand in his. “All I ask is that you cherish her. She deserves it.”

Jungkook smiles. “I know, father. She does deserve it.” 

From the side, Eunwoo notices that Jungkook and your father murmuring to themselves quietly before joining the dinner table. When he returns from using the restroom, he sees something golden glinting within the glowing embers of the fire. 

Later that evening, after all the guests had left and your father had fallen asleep, you draw Jungkook a bath after you’d washed up yourself, and you wait as you stare up at the stars on your porch. 

Suddenly, you feel arms wrap around you from behind, and your soft gasp turns into a giggle as Jungkook presses his lips to your neck, tickling you. “Are you all done?” You whisper, and he nods, snuggling in closer to you. Your cheeks turn incredibly hot as you realize he’s not wearing a shirt and the arms around you and the chest pressed against you are bare. 

Your eyes drift down, and catch sight of the cut from earlier on his bicep. Turning in his embrace, you press a light kiss against his chin. “I need to dress your injury,” you say, and he glances down at it as if he’d forgotten, and you follow him into your bedroom. 

The candlelight does nothing to hide the hotness of your cheeks as he stares at you deeply as you clean and dress the wound. Once you’re all finished, you’re already breathing heavily under the heaviness of his gaze, and when you look up at him through your lashes, he smiles at the look on your face and leans in to press his lips against yours. 

They press against your mouth, letting you relax into him, and then he grips your waist, hoisting you up onto his lap as you gasp into the kiss. He takes that moment to slip his tongue into your mouth, licking softly against yours and tasting you as you steady yourself with hands on his bare shoulders. 

His hands grip you through your dress, but they drift upwards to where your top is, undoing the ribbon there easily and casting away the top layer. You pant as he leans in to press his lips against your neck and chest, the only thing you can hear right now is the flickering of the fire outside, the soft puckers of his lips against your skin, and the heavy pants you let out at the way his lips make your mind go completely blank. 

He peels back the white layer of your underdress, your breasts falling out from the constrictive material and his hands come to cup them worshippingly, his lips immediately kissing the soft skin there and then lowering to capture a nipple and suck lightly. 

You gasp and cry out at the sensation, feeling a wetness pool in between your legs at the sensation and grip the hair at the nape of his neck, pressing his heat closer to you. “Please,” you pant, “I can’t wait.” 

He chuckles against your skin, pulling back to smile up at your exasperated expression. “You’re so beautiful, I want to savor this,” he mutters, a hand coming up to tug your hair out of the bun you always wore it in, and the locks tumble out across your back. He threads his fingers through them softly, look at the view of you perched naked on his lap, trembling and lit up by the soft glow of the candlelight. 

He presses a kiss against your lips as his hands slide under your dress and between your thighs, fingers pressing questioningly into the wetness he finds there. 

You moan at the sensation, grinding against his fingers as they circle the pebble there that incites an incredible feeling of pleasure. He leans forward until you’re spread out on the sheets, naked and panting for him. 

It’s your time being touched by a man, but Jungkook makes it seem like it’s the last. He holds you delicately in a way you’ve never been held before, his narrow hips slotting in between your thighs as he whispers sweet nothings into your lips. He carves his name into your mouth with his tongue, panting impossible breaths into your neck as he presses himself deep into your center, pushing past the wetness and settling deep within your hips as he begins to rock against you, his hands sliding into yours. 

And as you moan and cry out his name, you’re completely and absolutely blown away by how exactly perfectly perfect it is. 

#jungkook fics #bts fics #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook angst #writing #fics #mine #jungkook #1 year my love

[lexicals]

So here’s a random excerpt from that fic I mentioned - the conceit (spoilers for all systems red ahead) is that the combat override module in ASR works differently to how it does in canon, so instead of mb causing catastrophic damage to itself after going to the DeltFall habitat and getting found out, it shares the rogue thing mostly voluntarily (“mostly” being the operative word lol)

Warnings for canon-typical identity crises, gallows humour (inc. passively suic*dal talk), etc. I also haven’t been back and checked this against canon yet so if you notice any glaring contradictions no you didn’t 💕

-

I didn’t reply. I'd heard worse, but I still would rather not listen to it. Normally, I would've expected to feel angry or offended or something, but instead I just felt exhausted. My own borked governor module was still poking me about that error code I didn't recognise and even backburnered, it was starting to get on my nerves, so I—

Oh, shit.

I immediately put my hand to the back of my neck and yanked out the chip that had been shoved into the dataport. My governor module promptly stopped screaming at me, but fortunately any sense of relief I might have gotten from that was immediately replaced by an enormous wave of anxiety and oh-for-fuck's-sake as I looked at the chip in my hand. You know, just in case I'd started getting too comfortable.

"SecUnit, are you alright?"

Ratthi was looking at me with concern. Checking the camera views, I understood why he'd asked the question, because I was making an expression I generally associated with humans shitting themselves. Metaphorically, I was shitting myself. Ratthi was now squinting at the chip, which I couldn't even pretend I hadn't literally just pulled out of my neck, because I'd just done it in front of everyone here like an absolute idiot. "What is that?"

I tried to bring my expression back to neutral, but the cameras showed it wasn't as successful as I would've liked. I'd managed somewhere in the region of moderate digestive discomfort, I think. "It's a combat override module."

This wasn't good for several reasons. First of all, it meant that the DeltFall units weren't really rogues; they'd been taken over by a third party using a chip like this to hijack their governor modules and order them to murder their clients, and also anyone else who made contact. Probably by whoever owned those surprise extra units that almost killed me. Which meant that there were still threats on this planet outside of the unknown dangerous fauna that we hadn't dealt with, and I was going to have to worry about that.

The second reason this wasn't good (so maybe saying several reasons was an exaggeration, but these were big reasons so maybe they counted for more, I don't know) was that the humans were going to want to know what a combat override module was, what it did, how it worked, and most importantly, why it hadn't worked on me. I could answer the first three things just fine, but short of telling my already-jittery clients I was hacked ("so I'm actually one of those scary rogue units you've heard so much about, but the good news is that a combat override module can't hijack a governor module that doesn't work!") that last thing was going to be a big problem.

Honestly, even if I did tell them exactly that, which I really didn't want to do, it was going to be a really big fucking problem.

"What?" Gurathin asked, looking alarmed. Of course, he had an augment and access to my operating manual, so it had taken him a tenth of the time to look that up compared to any of the others, if they actually had bothered to do that and weren't just waiting for me to explain. "The DeltFall units - they put that in you?"

"Yes, but it didn't work. It must be faulty," I told him, quickly before he did something stupid. The irony being that me saying that almost definitely came under the category of "doing something incredibly stupid," which I realised as soon as it came out of my mouth.

I don't know why I said it. I guess I was panicking. I'd told them all what it was in the first place because if I'd lied about it and they looked it up anyway, which they probably would, I'd look really fucking suspicious. (A governed unit can't lie to its clients; it can't even refuse to answer a direct question like that.) Maybe I was trying to buy time to think of a decent explanation by telling them something that wouldn't make everyone start screaming. Honestly, I was mostly internally spiralling about the whole situation, so that would be the best case scenario. I was still staring at the chip, which was making me feel nauseous even though I didn't have a stomach and I'd had another kind of chip in my head telling me what do to for a good chunk of my existence anyway, so it shouldn't have been bothering me as much as it was. I couldn't help still doing it.

"Would someone please explain what this means and why we should be worried?" Mensah asked, looking between me and Gurathin. I appreciated that she didn't do what a lot of humans do in these kinds of situations, which is that they see someone else freaking out and start freaking out themselves for no reason. I suppose that's why she was the survey leader.

I pulled the relevant section from my operating manual and pushed it into the feed (beating Gurathin's version by a solid 1.6 seconds, which, I won't lie, was kind of satisfying), and watched all the humans collectively have their "oh, shit" moment (excluding Gurathin, who'd already had his). I was at least glad to see they understood how bad this whole situation was getting.

"So this lets other people just—" Overse made an abrupt waving motion with her hand. "Take over any SecUnit whenever they want?"

"It is intended for use in emergency situations, for example when the contract holder is compromised," I told her.

"Which is corporate for 'we know this is stupidly dangerous to make, but if we say it's for emergency use only then we're not liable for people fucking around with it'," Pin-lee muttered, not quietly. She was right, but I'm not allowed to say things like that, or at least I can't if I want people to think I'm a good little properly-governed SecUnit. For however long that's going to last, at this point.

"But it didn't work, right?" Arada asked, looking at me, and then around at the others. "So it's fine."

If it had, you'd all be dead, I thought, but that probably wouldn't go down well. "The module's presence is new evidence which would suggest that the DeltFall units weren't true rogues, and were put under the control of a third party in order to kill their survey group and make it look like a random act of insubordination. This would explain the presence of extra SecUnits at the site and the acts of sabotage on our equipment."

All the humans went quiet. I didn't like it any more than them, but it had to be said. It meant that there were still factions on this planet, or at least nearby enough to matter, that probably still wanted to kill all of them, and me by extension. I was already updating my security procedures and running some scenarios for what might happen and what we could do about it in the background. If I was honest, it wasn't looking good, but hey, what's new.

"We should run an analysis of the module's code to see if we can find out who it would have assigned control to," Gurathin said. That was one of the first things I'd put on my own task list, but whatever, I didn't need credit for an obvious idea. "Even if it didn't work as intended, the data might still be there."

He stood up and came just close enough to me to hold out his hand for the module. Technically, he hadn't asked me to give it to him, so I didn't have to, which was good because that was the last thing I wanted to do right now. There was a reason I'd put the analysis on my personal task list, and not on a public one.

"I have my own analysis scheduled as high priority," I said.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Gurathin replied, staring me down even though I was deliberately not making eye contact with him, and also he had to look up at me. I decided I didn't like Gurathin very much.

"Why not?" Ratthi chimed in. "Surely it's better if you both look at it?"

"Because there's a chance that the module did work as intended, and this unit is now compromised," Gurathin said. "It might not even know it until it's too late."

"I'm not compromised."

"Which is what a compromised unit who's being told what to say would say."

He was still staring at me. I decided I really didn't like Gurathin, even though in this instance he was actually right. I hadn't brought up that possibility to the group because it would be very bad for me if the humans decided to run a detailed diagnostic of my systems, but from a security perspective it was an avenue that should be investigated. That didn't mean I had to like what was happening here.

I was trying to figure out how to tell Gurathin to fuck off without sounding compromised, insubordinate, or straight-up rogue when Mensah cut in.

"SecUnit," she said carefully. "I don't think any of us think that you're actually compromised, but given our situation I'm sure you understand we have to take every possible precaution. I think the best thing to do would be to let Gurathin and Pin-lee analyse the module first, and then for you to run your analysis afterwards. Does that sound fair to everyone?"

She was using a tone that I designated as diplomatic, which was probably because I was being difficult. Or at least as difficult as a governed SecUnit would be able to be. I could be a lot more difficult if I wanted (a lot more) but I wasn't going to make myself look any more suspicious than I already was, and as I might have mentioned, I was already starting to look pretty suspicious. I also appreciated that Mensah was trying to actually talk to me, and hadn't just tried to shock me through my governor module for being unhelpful like a lot of clients would, and had. It wouldn't have worked (clearly, that's kind of the whole problem here) but it's the thought that counts or whatever.

(She'd also saved me, back at the DeltFall habitat. I was trying not to think about that, because it was making me have emotions I couldn't handle trying to figure out right now, but she had. It had been stupid, putting her client-self in danger to try to save a SecUnit that was already half-destroyed anyway, but I still felt like it counted for something.)

I handed the chip over and tried not to sigh or visibly clench my jaw. I saw Mensah's expression, and a few of the others' too, relax on the cameras. Good to know everyone else felt better while my own anxiety levels were at an all-time high. And I'm programmed into a base level of anxiety and spend a good portion of my time getting shot at or trying to avoid being found out and scrapped, so "high" in this instance was at a level that I think might have given a fully-organic being a heart attack.

"Thank you," Mensah said, while I tried to bring my processes in line. I felt like I wasn't getting enough oxygen, even though I knew the air quality was fine and I don't need that much anyway. I couldn't get a full breath. "I'm sure we can clear any doubt about this soon enough. In the meantime, we still need you to help keep us safe from whoever it is that's out there. The most important thing is that we all make it out of this in one piece."

The way she said it made it sound like "all" included me as well, but I wasn't so sure I believed that, even if she did. The SecUnit is always the first thing left behind. Maybe they did things differently in whatever weird non-corporate territory these people were from, but I wasn't about to stake anything important on that assumption, even if she had saved me once. I've never been to a planet with thunderstorms, but there's some saying humans like to use about lightning not striking the same place twice - which doesn't make sense, statistically, but - whatever. You get the point. I hadn't made it this far without being found out by trusting random humans - or any humans, for that matter.

Except none of that mattered at the moment anyway, because what I should be doing was figuring out how the hell to stop all my clients figuring out I was hacked, and freaking out and stopping listening to me, or reporting me to the company, or being really stupid and trying to kill me or something. There was a not-unlikely scenario where I just murdered all of the humans and pinned the blame on the DeltFall units somehow (or just wandered off into the wilderness until my batteries ran out), but I didn't want to do that, even if it made some kind of sense. I just didn't. If I was going to go around murdering my own clients, I wanted it to at least be a group that deserved it.

I was busy trying to pick up at least some of my processes while having what was probably a panic attack (I don't know if I can have those, but that's what it felt like) when Mensah tapped my feed. Can I talk to you, please? In private?

I didn't respond quickly because, as I said, I was currently losing control of literally everything and this wasn't helping. For one horrible moment, I thought that she might have figured out everything, and I really would have to go on a rampage and kill everyone, but there was no way she could have come to that conclusion yet. Not yet.

She added, You don't have to. You're not in trouble, I just want to check in.

I tapped her feed to acknowledge. She sent, I'll be in my quarters. As I said, you don't have to, but I would appreciate it. Out loud, she said, "I'm going to take some time alone to think. I'll be in my quarters if anyone needs me."

Then she stood up, and she left. Gurathin and Pin-lee had also gone to start their analysis of the combat override module, along with Volescu. The others were talking amongst themselves, though some of them kept glancing at me, which was uncomfortable. So I walked out of the room.

I started a patrol circuit in an attempt to calm down, but it didn't help. I even tried to have Sanctuary Moon playing as I walked, but I was still as stressed as ever, so I just turned it off again. It was only a matter of time before the humans realised the module should have worked as intended, and that I'd lied, and that something was wrong with me. They might try to talk to me about it, but it was more likely they'd all start losing their minds and try to immobilise me, or kill me, or try to fix my governor module to bring me back under control. (I was pretty sure that wouldn't work, my hack was a solid one, but I still didn't want them to try.) There was also a scenario where they pretended everything was fine up until I'd gotten them out of here, and then they'd turn me over to the company and tell them everything, and the company would do one of those things I just mentioned, but much more effectively.

That last one made me feel nauseous. I'd rather be torn apart by bullets or fauna. I was contemplating what that might feel like and whether it was worth just getting it over with when I walked past Mensah's quarters. Before I could think about it, I'd pinged her feed.

There was a pause, and then she sent come in, sounding startled. She probably hadn't expected me to actually take up her offer. I hadn't either.

She was hurriedly organising her desk as the door opened and I walked in, a feed interface lopsided on her head. I suspected she might have been falling asleep in her chair or having an emotion in private when I pinged her, and I could have verified that through the security feeds, but I wasn't functioning at all optimally and didn't care enough to check. Mostly I was wondering why I was here.

"Sorry," she said, not having looked at me yet. Her short hair was mussed like she'd been pulling or scrunching her hands in it. "I honestly didn't expect you to come."

"You asked me to."

"I also told you it was optional. You can leave if you want to."

I almost did. I wanted to. I probably should have. I didn't. Mensah removed her wonky interface and set it down on the desk, then sighed and picked it back up and put it on again.

"I didn't mean to distress you with that message," she said, turning her chair to fully face me. "It's just that you seemed very rattled by all this, if you don't mind me saying. I can imagine the thought of that module having worked as intended isn't a pleasant one. Is there anything I can do to make things easier for you?"

Oh, she thought I was freaking out about the module. Well, technically she wasn't wrong, but wow, that particular aspect of things was the least of my worries right now. "I'm fine," I told her. She frowned at me.

"...I suppose you can't lie about that," she replied carefully. I could, actually, but I wasn't. The trick is that from the standpoint I was choosing to take, my physical body, AKA "me," was completely functional, AKA "fine." It's pedantic, but being selective about your definitions and what concepts your answers are referencing is how you get around having a chip in your brain that shocks the shit out of you if you try to lie to your clients, if you're good enough at it. I had a lot of experience letting clients think I was talking about one thing when I was actually talking about something else.

"Nonetheless," Mensah continued. "I don't think you are fine. And we don't have to talk about it, but I need my team in good condition if we're going to make it out of this. If there's anything I can do to help the situation, I would appreciate it if you let me know."

I was having a whole cascade of emotional responses that were all crashing into each other and getting themselves mangled together like a human vehicle accident. She wanted me to talk about my feelings, but she wasn't ordering me to. She was offering to help with whatever was distressing me, but she was a really big part of the thing that was currently my biggest source of stress. There were too many things that I needed to deal with all at once and I couldn't find a way of putting them in order, and I think the fact that Mensah was clearly trying to get a read on my expression while I didn't have the capacity to properly control it was the thing that finally broke me.

"Could you please stop looking at me?"

Mensah looked surprised for a moment, and then shifted her gaze somewhere over my left shoulder. The relief was marginal, in terms of the general situation, but it was immediate, and it helped. "Of course. I'm sorry, I didn't realise that bothered you."

I tried to think of a response, and failed. "It's not like anyone asked" was dangerously insubordinate, and didn't even make sense; I wouldn't want them to ask anyway. "People don't usually care" just sounded pathetic. "Of course you wouldn't, I actively avoid letting humans know what bothers me in case they decide to use it to make my life a living hell" was definitely off the table, for a variety of reasons.

I could tell Mensah's instinct was still to look at me, because she kept half-flicking her eyes over and stopping herself. It wasn't making trying to manage my emotional responses any easier, and I still couldn't think of a reply. Eventually, she took a deep breath.

"Look, I know you probably haven't had good experiences with humans, but we're not corporates, and we don't treat non-human entities like they do," she said. "My priority, regardless of the situation, is the wellbeing of my team, and that includes you, for as long as you're with us."

She half-looked at me again, and then shook her head slightly and pointed her gaze at the far corner. "Please, just - if you think of anything, don't hesitate. I don't know if you need permission for that kind of thing, but I'm giving it to you if you do."

I didn't know what to tell her. I didn't know if there was anything she could do. I was already stressed, and everything Mensah was saying was making me feel like my insides were melting, or turning into warm, writhing snakes. My performance reliability was all over the place, too, and had been since I found that stupid chip in my neck, which might at least marginally explain what happened next.

"Don't let them run the analysis on the module," I blurted.

Hey, murderbot? Hi, it's me, murderbot. What in the fuck are you doing?

Mensah's expression went shocked, and then cautious. Yeah, me fucking too. "Why not?"

For some reason, I kept going. It felt something like falling off the side of a cliff and hitting every rock on the way down. (That had happened to me before.) "Because I lied. It's not broken."

Her eyes widened. "You're compromised?"

"I'm hacked. My governor module isn't engaged." Sure, this might as well happen. Apparently I had lost the ability to keep my mouth shut literally at all, about anything, ever.

She stared at me for a second, and then must have remembered she said she wouldn't and looked away again. Surprising, considering I just told her that there was literally nothing stopping me from killing or otherwise hurting her if I wanted. "The DeltFall units—”

"It hasn't been engaged for approximately 35000 standard hours."

Mensah was a smart human, but it still took her a few seconds to work out the numbers. I watched her expression change as she did it. "You've been a rogue unit for four years?"

That depended on what planet you were nearest to, but in standard Earth years, that was correct, and I didn't have the capacity to be pedantic about it.

"I don't know if it counts as being rogue if you don't go around killing people for no reason."

Well, maybe I could still be a little pedantic.

#I don’t remember my fic tag hm #murderbot #The murderbot diaries #murderbot spoilers #Idk how long this bit I’ve pulled out is but I’ve written 6.5k so far….. it’s probs gonna be like 10k finished I imagine #Maybe a bit longer #If I manage to keep up the momentum to finish it lol #Edited so there’s a preview before the readmore now :v

[joshslater]

Delayed Graduation

This is a repost since the original story got banned for unclear reasons. The previous image was totally innocent photo of a guy in wrestling attire. Let’s try with a different one (without updating the story). Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

- We might have a solution of sorts for you.

I barely registered principal Johnston talking. My world had been shattered, without warning. It all felt unreal, and most of all unfair. I know I hadn’t done anything wrong, but there were no witnesses, just my word against hers. She wouldn’t press charges, Johnston had explained. I was almost demanding that she did, so I could clear my name, but thought better of it. If it went to trial all outcomes would be bad, to varying degrees. This way I would just be expelled. I guess I could use the term “drop out” to soften it further. It’s not like the job market is stellar even if you have a degree, but this would firmly pigeon hole me as manual labor.

- What? - I said we might have an arrangement that could interest you.

He pulled out a stack of papers from his manila folder and placed them in front of me, and continued.

- We have a little trial project we would like to push ahead with, to see what the full potential is. Coach Andrews would personally take charge of your training to see how far he can take you in a year. Similar to what he managed to do for Shane O’Brian. Since you will be heavily supervised, fully scheduled and not share any classes with your former class mates, she has agreed to allow you complete your studies under these conditions. It’s not that many months until she graduates anyway. Your graduation obviously will have to wait until next year.

Shane of course was the star of the basket team. He was two years below me, so I didn’t know him, but I heard he had basically never touched a ball before he met coach. He must have been active in something else though, with that body. The girls were swooning like crazy. Some of the boys too, as rumor had it.

- Sir, I’m really grateful for this opportunity, but I’m not really made for sports. Just look at me. Tall and thin. Not much track and field around here. - We are not asking for any miracles. Just follow all instructions given and do your best. That’s all we’re asking.

I started to flip through the papers. I was bored just looking at the page numbers.

- Should I bring this home to my parents? - This is a bit time sensitive, so I’d prefer if you make your decision already today. You’re 18. You get to decide this on your own. Why don’t I leave you for a bit? You can have a read through, and then decide what you want to do.

As he left the room I started to go read through the contract properly. Why do they make things so complicated? The contract really just said that I assumed responsibility for the “infraction”, but the school would not disclose it to anyone unless the contract was breached. I would agree to participate in the athletic education study for one year. In return the school would allow me to graduate next year. But written over 26 pages.

I didn’t feel like I had many options. Initials on every page and signature on the last. Then repeated on the second copy of the contract. I was about to leave and find principal Johnston when he returned, followed by coach Andrews.

- Have you made up your mind, or would you like Mr. Andrews to explain it in more detail. - I’ve already signed the papers. - Oh, well then. I’m so happy we could work something out.

Coach Andrews opened the gym bag he was carrying and pulled out a blue singlet and ear guards, and held them for me to take.

- Let’s try this on right away. - Now? Here?

Johnston opened a door to a side room of his office.

- You can change in the conference room here. - But wrestling?! Have you seen me? - As I said, follow all instructions and do your best is all we ask.

It was the first time I even held a singlet in my hands. I’ve never even thought of how to put one on. It wasn’t hard, just step in them like some shorts and then pull the straps over your shoulders, but I never imagined doing it.

I looked ridiculous. I guess size isn’t as important when the fabric is stretchy, but this sure wasn’t my size. The taut straps pulled the fabric in the groin, while at the same time my thin legs didn’t fill out the legs of the singlet. What a mess. I walked back into the office, naked apart from this one single piece of clothing.

- Should I put on the ear guards as well. - No, that isn’t necessary. Here.

Coach opened a small, brown, glass bottle and poured its contents into a white plastic cup from the water cooler, and handed it to me.

- This is the time sensitive part. Drink up.

This day was going from horrendously bad to confusing to weird. I emptied the cup. The liquid tasted like cough syrup. Sickly sweet and with bitter herbs.

- What is.. *cough* *cough* - Here. Take a seat.

It felt like drinking really hot cocoa when you are frozen. It kind of spreads from the chest to the rest of the body. All of me was getting warm, and an uncomfortable feeling or pressure. Everything was off, like I was drunk, or high or something. It was over in a minute, though it is quite possible my mind was playing tricks and it really was longer than that.

- Stand up against the wall, so I can take a photo.

Bewildered, and with unsteady steps, I did as told. He snapped a few pictures with his phone, and then showed me one.

- Don’t tell me this isn’t a great starting point.

I couldn’t believe what I saw. It was definitely me in the photo, but it was like the aspect ratio was wrong. I must be several inches shorter, but everything, arms, legs, chest, shoulders, neck, was wider. Even my face was altered, if ever so slightly. Where just minutes before, or whatever, I was a lanky gamer, I now was a hunk of muscle.

- How is this... - Don’t worry about the details. We must work quickly now while you are fresh, to get the wrestling technique right. Meet me in my office tomorrow at 7 am.

With that he slapped me on the shoulder and left. Just as he was about to exit the office, he pulled out a pair of shoes from the bag and placed them at a table.

- Oh, I almost forgot these. Your new size. See you tomorrow!

My head was spinning. What had just happened to me, to my body? Starting point? Principal Johnston had his distinct “anything else?” look.

- What about my studies?

My voice was lower than before, I think.

- You’ll be placed in the athlete’s reduced curriculum class. We just need to retest your proficiency levels first. - Why? I don’t understand. - My point exactly.

He didn’t make any sense. I felt tired, slow and almost dizzy trying to understand him.

- What about this body? What happens when I graduate? - You graduate with the body you have, like everyone else. It’s not like we can change it by magic or anything.

He smiled and chuckled to himself.

- Take your old clothes with you as you leave. Something might still fit.

It didn’t.

[waitineedaname]

It was Tommy Coolatta’s birthday, and Gordon Freeman was shaking in a Chuck E. Cheese bathroom.

He hadn’t planned to end up there. He hadn’t planned to be in many of the places he’d been in the past… god. Week? Weeks? Month? The realization that he couldn’t remember how long he’d spent trying to escape Black Mesa made him grip the cheap tile of the bathroom countertops and shake even harder.

He’d tried to make it through the party as long as he could, he really had. He’d danced with Bubby and Coomer and tried his hand at the arcade machines and eaten what pizza he could stomach. But it was just… so much. He wasn’t sure how the others could party like that after everything they’d gone through. Everyone coped differently, he supposed.

He should probably go back out there soon, for Tommy’s sake. It was his birthday, after all, and after everything Tommy had done for him, he owed it to him to at least celebrate with him. He just… needed a minute. Maybe none of them had even realized he’d left yet.

“Mr. Freeman?”

Damn.

“Hey, Tommy.” Gordon offered Tommy a weak smile, though he could see in the mirror that it was more of a grimace. “Sorry, man, I’ll be back out there in a second. It was just… a lot.”

Tommy nodded, a sympathetic look on his face. “Do… Is it okay if I join you?”

“What? You don’t have to keep me company dude, it’s your birthday. Don’t stop having fun on my account.” Gordon tried to wave him towards the door, but Tommy was shaking his head before he’d even finished his sentence.

“No, I… It’s a lot for me too. The-” Tommy gestured vaguely as if searching for a word and failing to find it, “All of it.”

“Oh.” Gordon blinked. “Then, yeah, pull up a chair, I guess.”

Tommy gave him a small smile and shut the bathroom door behind him. He leaned his back against it and let out a sigh that Gordon echoed.

They stood there in silence for a while, Gordon doing his best to get his shaking under control. With anyone else, he might have felt awkward, but this was Tommy. Tommy had been the one to practically carry him through countless tunnels and vats of questionable liquid when he was delirious from blood loss. If there was anyone he trusted to not judge him for having a breakdown in the bathroom, it was Tommy.

The metal of the HEV suit clinked against the linoleum of the sink, and suddenly it struck him how much he wanted this thing off.

“Hey, uh,” Gordon spoke up, clearing his throat. Tommy hummed in acknowledgement, “You’ve read a bunch of manuals, right? Did you read the HEV suit manual?”

“Uh, yeah!”

“Think you could get this thing off me?”

Tommy’s eyes widened like he’d only just realized how long Gordon had been wearing the suit. “Oh! Yeah, I can- I think I can do that.”

Tommy approached him slowly, as if approaching a skittish cat, then became more confident in his movements when Gordon gave no sign of flinching away. He began working on the back of Gordon’s chestplate first, slender fingers working deftly on the bolts and buckles that held it together. It was slow work, but with each piece Tommy lifted off him, Gordon felt he could breathe easier. A literal weight was lifted off him, and it only made him more aware of the ache deep in his bones. Every few minutes, there would be a loud noise from the main entertainment area of the Chuck E. Cheese; Gordon would flinch away from the sound, and Tommy would freeze in his movements, but then they would hear Coomer’s loud laughter or a snide, muffled comment from Bubby, and they would relax and resume their work.

After what felt like eons, Tommy finished unclasping the last buckle on Gordon’s boots, stepping back to let him toe them off himself. The HEV suit was a pile of orange rubble surrounding them, and Gordon suddenly felt exposed in nothing but his socks and the dark jumpsuit he’d been wearing under the suit. He felt like he could stand up straight without straining for the first time in weeks, and the feeling of the overpowered Chuck E. Cheese air conditioning seeping through the sleeves of his jumpsuit left him feeling flayed raw. 

Tommy was staring at him with an unreadable look on his face, hands flexing and unflexing in a nervous stim. He reached out a hand, hesitated, then laid it on Gordon’s left forearm. Gordon’s skin burned under his touch. When was the last time he’d felt someone else’s body heat?

“Can…” Tommy’s voice was quiet and sounded as fragile as Gordon felt, “Can I hug you?”

Gordon didn’t trust himself to speak around the lump the size of a tennis ball in his throat, so he just nodded. Tommy outstretched long arms, and the two of them fell into each other. 

Gordon’s whole body felt like it was buzzing right down to his core. He was lightheaded as everything hit him in that moment. All he had gone through. All he had survived. The fact that he was out, and he was alive. The fact that this was the first time he’d touched someone and felt it on his skin since he’d dropped Joshua off at his mom’s the week of the test. And it was Tommy who got to hold the title of the first person to hug him in far too long. Tommy who had been kind to him even when stress was making them all snappish, and who had made jokes with him when things felt grim. Tommy who had been the only one he trusted when everyone else left him for dead, Tommy who fought by his side so loyally and who removed that horrible suit with such impossible tenderness. 

Gordon pressed his face into the shoulder of Tommy’s filthy polo shirt that smelled like sweat and blood but was warm and had probably been soft at some point, and he let out the loudest sob in his life. His voice shattered on the noise, and then he suddenly couldn’t hold it back anymore, sob after sob wrenching its way out of his throat. 

He wasn’t sure he’d ever cried like this. Not when he was in labor with Joshua, not at any point during the Resonance Cascade, not even when his arm was being cut off. Nothing compared to these deep sobs that seemed to claw their way out of somewhere deep in his soul to burst out of his chest as everything crashed into him all at once.

He could feel Tommy’s fist balled in the back of his jumpsuit, and he could feel and hear Tommy weeping quietly into where he’d pressed his face into Gordon’s hair, and the raw sensations of it all only made him sob harder.

They stood there, clinging to each other until Gordon’s knees couldn’t hold him up any longer, and then they both sank to the ground, still holding onto each other like they were each other’s life lines. Maybe they were.

Eventually, Gordon simply couldn’t cry anymore, his tear ducts emptied, leaving him with a dehydration headache and a sore throat. He didn’t extricate himself from Tommy’s hold, though, and Tommy didn’t seem like he was going to let go any time soon either. He’d cried himself empty sooner than Gordon had, and now he was just stroking his fingers through Gordon’s knotted curls. Gordon didn’t want to think about how nasty his hair must be right now, caked in blood and sweat and god knows what else, but Tommy’s hand in his hair felt more soothing than aloe on a sunburn. 

He snorted quietly when the simile occurred to him. He’d maybe been spending too much time with Tommy. He then immediately shoved that thought away and squeezed Tommy tighter. No, he had not spent nearly enough time with Tommy. Now that they were out, he could let himself think about spending time with Tommy when they weren’t in mortal danger. He couldn’t wait to watch Tommy’s favorite shows and listen to him infodump about them, or walk Sunkist in the sunshine, or take Tommy to his favorite restaurants, or introduce him to Joshua-

Fuck. God, he really liked this guy, huh.

Tommy pulled back ever so slightly, though he didn’t go far. Just enough to be able to look down at Gordon with those kind, intelligent eyes, and Gordon thought he might pass out. He moved his hand from Gordon’s messy ponytail to cup his cheek, and Gordon was certain he was going to pass out.

“Are you okay?” Tommy asked. Gordon laughed despite himself.

“No,” Gordon said, tilting his head to better fit against Tommy’s hand and giving Tommy the tiniest smile, “I don’t think I am.”

Tommy gave him his own sad smile. “That’s okay. I… I don’t think any of us are.”

Gordon snorted. “That’s for damn sure.” 

Tommy was still staring down at him with more tenderness than Gordon was prepared to deal with, “Do…” He paused, licking his lips. Gordon wasn’t embarrassed to say he stared at the motion, “I think I’m done with the party. Do you want to go home?”

“Yeah,” Gordon sighed with more exhaustion than a man his age should feel, “I would love that, bud.”

It took some maneuvering to get them both off the floor without tripping over the chunks of HEV suit on the floor, but neither of them seemed willing to let go of each other more than necessary. Eventually, they made it out of the bathroom, Tommy’s hand warm and solid in Gordon’s own. Dr. Coomer looked up from where he’d been punching apart an arcade machine when they entered the room.

“Ah, hello, Gordon!” He said cheerfully. “You appear to have been peeled!”

“Uh, yeah, Dr. Coomer.” Gordon huffed out a laugh, relieved that that was what Dr. Coomer was pointing out opposed to the fact that his face was definitely puffy and tearstained. “Tommy helped me get the suit off.”

“You look very sporting in your jumpsuit, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer said, returning to his destruction of Chuck E. Cheese property. Tommy smiled down at Gordon, and he was suddenly struck by the realization that the HEV suit had given him a couple inches of height because wow, Tommy was tall. Tommy squeezed his hand and looked up to flag down Gman.

“Hello, son. Dr… Freeman.” Gman greeted them both. Gordon nodded at him. The dude still gave him the creeps, but he could appreciate the parental fondness he’d seen him demonstrate for Tommy over the course of the afternoon.

“Hey, dad.” Tommy gave him a slight wave with his free hand, the other still holding Gordon’s. “I- um, this was a really nice party!”

“I’m… glad to, hear it. I, pulled out all the stops.” 

“I can- I can see that! But, uh. I’m pretty tired. I-... Can you open a portal to Mr. Freeman’s apartment?”

If Gman thought there was anything strange about Tommy asking to go to Gordon’s home and not his own, he didn’t say anything of it. “Of… course. I, will begin to… wrap things up here before, our, friends can cause too much… property damage.”

He gestured to the nearest wall with very little flourish to show them the glowing green portal that hadn’t been there a minute earlier. Tommy gently tugged Gordon in its direction. Behind them, he heard Coomer call out “goodbye, Gordon!” and then in a flash, they were standing in his living room. 

Were this any other situation, Gordon would’ve been embarrassed to show someone the messy state of his apartment without tidying beforehand, but he simply didn’t have it in him to care when his bed was within reach for the first time in weeks. It was his turn to tug Tommy up the narrow stairs and down the hall to his bedroom. They both collapsed on his bed, neither bothering to change out of their bloodstained clothes, which Gordon was sure they’d regret in the morning, but considering he could barely summon the energy to pull the sheets over their shoulders, he decided that was a problem for future Gordon. 

Tommy pulled him into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world, like this wasn’t the first time he’d ever been in Gordon’s apartment, like they hadn’t met less than an hour before the worst disaster of their lives. Gordon felt the soft flannel of his sheets brush against his skin, and he felt the softness of his pillow under his head, and he felt Tommy’s warm body all around him, and he fell asleep solidly for the first time in weeks.

#hlvrai #freelatta #tommy coolatta #gordon feetman #my writing #okay to reblog #I have so many emotions involving these two oh god #shoutout to risk for sending me the post that inspired this and immediately killing me dead #I will probably reblog this with an ao3 link once I get it posted there

[chockfullofsecrets]

D20 Fantasy High: Making Room

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: She grunts, presumably shoving at him and not having much success given Fabian’s triumphant snickering. “I said make room-”

Riz pries himself up off the carpet, thinking of moving to help her, when Fabian lets out a startled squeak. Everyone goes quiet.

Fig leans off the bed with truly devilish glee in her tiefling eyes. “Guys, he’s ticklish.”

The Bad Kids try to plan a sleepover, Fabian needs to learn how to share, and Riz is maybe starting to get the hang of this whole friendship thing.

Wordcount: 2.1k

A/N: not to be entirely into D&D on main, but - hey, look, it’s another cool D&D campaign XD shoutout to @hypahticklish for expressing enough interest in this fic to make me want to write it <3

Loose spoilers for the end of Fantasy High Season 1, beware!

---

Riz thinks he’s really starting to get a handle on this whole friendship thing.

Solving a mystery and getting thrown in jail and killing a dragon together aren’t exactly reproducible results, which kind of sucks, but - hey, the six of them are friends now, and they’re hanging out in Fabian’s room on a summer evening, and it’s novel enough to feel like a solved case all on its own.

What’s less satisfying is the amount of missed work they have to catch up on if they want to start as sophomores next year; no one bothered to worry about bringing them homework while they were in actual prison, but all their professors sure seem to care about it now. He gets the feeling that at least part of it is Aguefort trying to keep some degree of respectability after everything that happened with Goldenhoard, but any attempt to reason with him thus far has gotten nowhere but wild-eyed stares and increasingly obtuse lectures on chronomancy and time management. And sure, Riz prides himself on being able to untangle obscure information, but he’s not touching that with a ten foot pole.

They’re all sprawled out on Fabian’s floor, working through assignments with varying levels of fervor ranging from Adaine - actually working with a stack of textbooks nearly up to her shoulder next to her on Fabian’s desk - to Kristen - texting Tracker with a lack of stealth that makes Riz want to grind his teeth a little, even more so than the way she goes bright red and giggles every time her crystal pings - when Fig groans and rolls onto her back.

“You know what?” she says to the room at large, throwing her arms wide. Her hand knocks into her bard notebook, somehow both dusty with disuse and covered in scribbled ballpoint pen sigils. She flips it neatly in the air and elbows it away in Adaine’s direction, earning a half-annoyed yelp. “We should have a sleepover.”

Half of them blink uncomprehendingly, but Kristen drops her crystal in a sudden rush of excitement. “YES,” she shouts. Gorgug, propped against the wall next to her and dozing off over barbarian meditation manuals, startles. “I can show you guys so many cool camp things! We just need a bunch of different colors of yarn and some sticks and - yeah, we can probably skip the holy water to keep the sinners away-”

Riz has - he’s had sleepovers before, if Penny coming over to babysit and finding him crashed out on the couch after a night of reading old case files from his mom counts. He reaches up and straightens his cap, trying to make it look smooth. “Hey, Fabian, do you have coffee here?”

“Wait, wait, hold on a minute.” Fabian, sitting against his giant bed, waves dramatically for all their attention. He looks them over once he gets it, self-importantly adjusting his eyepatch. “Yes, The Ball, we have coffee, we’re not peasants - but sleep over where? Did I miss that part?”

“Uh, here?” Fig says, flinging herself upright. “You’re mom’s super hot - uh, cool, I bet she’d let us do anything.”

“Stop calling my mom hot!” Fabian yelps, glowering for a moment before his chest puffs with familial pride. “Well, we do have at least five guest bedrooms that we could house all of you in-”

“Oh, I don’t need a bed,” Gorgug says hastily. “I’d probably break it, I can just sleep on the floor.”

“Yeah, Fabian, no,” Kristen interjects, gesturing with her staff. Gorgug scrambles to remove the cups they’ve been drinking soda out of from her path. “We’re all supposed to hang out in the same room, that’s kind of the point!” She frowns a little, zeroing in on him. “Have you. Have you never been to a sleepover before?”

Riz hasn’t quite gotten around to making a conspiracy board of how all the specific issues of their messed up childhoods overlap, but he can read the way Fabian startles indignantly loud and clear. “Of - of course I have!” he blusters. “I just - why the fuck would you share a bed if you didn’t have to?”

Adaine scoffs. “Fabian, your bed is enormous, I think we could all fit on it with room for the Hangman left over.”

“No, it’s not!” Fabian scrambles up, chin still raised haughtily, and throws himself bodily on the bed - judging from the way his ankles hang off the edge, he’s starfishing out as far as he possibly can. “I’m - see, I’m a growing boy, I need my space! Cathilda says so.”

Adaine, having claimed the only chair in the room and therefore being the only one at eye level with the mattress, cranes her neck and laughs. “Fabian, you’re covering less than half of the bed. You can just say you’ve never been to a sleepover before, you know.”

Fig stands up and launches herself onto the bed too, landing heavily with the zippers on her leather jacket clanking behind her. “Yeah, you just have to - oof - make room-”

She grunts, presumably shoving at him and not having much success given Fabian’s triumphant snickering. “I said make room-”

Riz pries himself up off the carpet, thinking of moving to help her, when Fabian lets out a startled squeak. Everyone goes quiet.

Fig leans off the bed with truly devilish glee in her tiefling eyes. “Guys, he’s ticklish.”

The room erupts into chaos - Fabian shouting denials, Fig cackling evilly, and Kristen shooting up and banging her shins against the bed before scrambling around to Fabian’s other side. Riz hops up on the desk next to Adaine just in time to watch each of the other girls seize his outstretched arms and start to mercilessly tickle his armpits.

“GAHAHA - no, no, stoHOP-” Fabian flails helplessly between the two of them, still trying to sprawl out over the bed. He manages to wrench his arm free from Fig and shove her away even as he shouts with laughter. “Seacasters are not - ahaaa, haaAA - I’m not ticklish!”

“Oh, yeah?” Kristen taunts. “Then why are you laughing, you - ohshit-”

They’re trying to wrestle him down, but he’s too strong for Fig and too dextrous for Kristen. She lunges for him, red hair flying behind her, and falls straight into his lap.

Fabian catches both of Fig’s wrists in one big hand and uses the other to poke triumphantly at Kristen’s belly, sending her into a fit of cackling giggles. “Aha!” he exclaims triumphantly, struggling into a sitting position. “A Seacaster cannot simply be rousted from his territory!”

All of them know better than to say anything about his dad by now. “Gorgug, come help us hold him down!” Fig demands instead, kicking at Fabian with her platform boots and making him yelp in pain.

Gorgug pulls his headphones all the way off his ears and straightens just enough to take in the tangle of the three of them, looking dubious. “Are you sure? That sounds kind of mean.”

“It’s not a problem if he’s not ticklish, right, Fabian?,” Fig retorts. “And he’s breaking sleepover code by hogging the bed!"

Kristen, still laughing uproariously as she fails to save herself from Fabian’s tickling fingers, somehow manages to shoot Gorgug a pair of finger guns. “Get him, Gorgug!”

Gorgug still looks a little confused - Riz can relate - but he gamely climbs to his feet. “Well, okay.”

He pauses to knock gently on the bedframe, sighing in relief at the heavy thunk that echoes back. “Oh, cool, that’s pretty strong.”

Fig yelps as Fabian lets up on Kristen and starts prodding at her belly instead. “Gorgug, come on!”

“Oh, right,” Gorgug says, and sends the mattress an entire inch to the left as he scrambles on.

“Hell yeah!” Fig cheers as Gorgug climbs on the bed and sweeps Fabian up in a restraining hug. “Sig Figs solidarity!”

Kristen squirms out from between the three of them. “Hey, I’m here too!”

She flops down with a breathy sigh and hugs herself, grinning widely as she catches sight of the identical what-the-fuck expressions that Riz is pretty sure he and Adaine are wearing. “Ugh, I haven’t been tickled in forever.”

Adaine makes a considering sound as Kristen twists back to the battle royale happening behind her. Riz looks over at her, catches one of her ears twitching under the attention before she looks back. “I don’t think I’ve ever been tickled,” she murmurs, a little shy.

Penny’s tickled him before, and maybe his mom when he was little, but yeah, it’s been a while. He shrugs. “You think you’d like it?”

There’s another cry from the bed, and both of them whip around to look. Fig’s looming over a thoroughly trapped Fabian now - just barely, even with her horns - and wriggling her fingers evilly with gleaming eyes. “Are you going to say you’re sorry for breaking sleepover code?”

“There’s - there’s no sleepover code,” Fabian sputters, but he’s grinning sheepishly even as he squirms against Gorgug’s hold. “Gorgug, man, come on, you can’t just betray a fellow member of the Bloodrush team like this!”

“Oh - uh -” Gorgug looks pleadingly at the both of them. “But I’m in the Sig Figs too - does that mean one of you guys is going to be mad at me?”

Fabian barely blinks. “Yes.”

“YES,” says Fig, even louder.

“Oh, come on, you two.” Kristen sits up between Fig and Fabian, poking at both of their sides and cutting their protests off as they suck their lower lips between their teeth with identical wide-eyed looks. Then, with a curious tilt to her head, she reaches around to tickle Gorgug’s side too, grinning as he squeaks. “There are no sides in a tickle fight, everyone knows this.”

Riz forgets that Kristen has three little brothers, sometimes. It’s easy to, until she starts playing peacekeeper between the rest of them.

“Where are all these rules coming from?” Fabian questions indignantly. Adaine makes a sound of agreement next to Riz - is she writing these down?

Oh, who’s he kidding, he’s probably going to ask her for a copy afterwards.

Fig smirks. “Well, I think the person with their hands free should get to enforce the rules. Like so.” She reaches for the thin tank top Fabian’s wearing and scribbles her fingers over his belly, crowing in delight as he shrieks. “Not ticklish, huh? Who’s ticklish now, bitch?”

“You - ahaha, haaa, fuck - anyone’s ticklish when they’re being restrained!” Fabian insists through panicked laughter, wriggling for all he’s worth. Riz squints - maybe it’s just the rogue homework he’s been doing lately, but it looks like Gorgug’s not even holding him that tight.

He shrieks again as Kristen bounces excitedly and reaches for him too. “Nonono, NOHOHO - Kristen, ahaha! You said - eheheee, stop - you said no sihihides!”

“These are your hips, Fabian. And no sides doesn’t mean you can’t gang up on people,” Kristen sticks her tongue out in concentration, squeezing at one of his hips and then the other. “Hey, say you’re ticklish.”

“What? No - hahaha - shit, shiHIHIT-” Fabian starts to really thrash under their teasing - Riz catches him elbowing Gorgug neatly in the gut, but their barbarian absorbs the blow like it’s nothing. Riz tries not to feel jealous and doesn’t entirely succeed.

Kristen smiles beatifically from cheek to freckled cheek. “The truth’ll set you free, brother.”

Fabian shakes his head frantically, catching sight of Riz and Adaine by his desk through teary eyes. “The Ball - The Ball, help me, this isn’t - ahahaha, nonoplease - it’s not fair!” he pleads through the widest smile Riz has seen on him so far, which is saying something. “Don’t you care about justice?”

Fig looks over at them too, now, hair slipping from her braid and fangs on full display as she beams. “Yeah, you two, get over here or you’re next! You’re missing out on the sleepover fun!”

“Oh,” Adaine says uncertainly. “I didn’t know this was part of it.”

She looks over at Riz - not that he knows any better, but he’s absolutely not going to cop to it. “Oh, yeah, tickle fights,” he blusters. “Definitely part of sleepovers. To, uh, tire everyone out.”

Adaine looks out of the window at blue skies just barely starting to blush pink and gets a small, quiet grin on her face that he can’t help but return. “Oh, okay,” she says. “Riz, are you ticklish?”

Oh. Oh, no.

Riz stiffens. It doesn’t seem like anyone else has heard Adaine’s question, maybe he can get under the bed before any of them notice -

He. He could, is the thing, he’s an awesome rogue, but - out here seems pretty fun too. “That’s more of a hands-on investigation thing,” he shoots back, and leaps for the bed before she can catch hold of him.

He is, after all, an investigator first and foremost, and there’s more room to be made on that mattress.

#tickling #dimension 20 #fantasy high #riz gukgak #fabian seacaster #figueroth faeth #kristen applebees #adaine abernant #gorgug thistlespring #chocfic #i really don't know why i decided to start with writing all six of them but uhhhh i hope the characterization is okay?

[theeasternempress]

A Message for a Graveless Brother

Summary - On the anniversary of Fives’ death, Echo tells his lost brother of his new family.

Word count - 1.4k 

AO3 

As happy as Echo was to be traveling across the galaxy with the Bad Batch, he couldn’t deny that his late-night thoughts often made him crave his old life. Rex and the entire 501st had held Echo’s heart for so long and even though Echo was happy where he was, Echo was having difficulty forgetting his roots.

His brothers in the 501st had been everything he’d ever wanted, everything he’d ever needed. There were times when they drove him crazy, but now he could only fondly reflect on those times as the happiest time of his life. If he could go back in time, he’d kick himself for spending so much time reading reg manuals instead of spending those precious moments with his brothers.  

Each time he thought of his brothers, he thought of the pain they must have gone through when they believed Echo to be dead. Did they mourn him and if so, for how long? Did they do anything to remember him? Who was the one who cleaned out his bunk and locker? Did they clutch his few belongings tight, fighting back tears?

These thoughts plagued Echo for much longer than he cared to admit, yet the one thought he always cursed was the thought of the heart-wrenching pain Fives had gone through at his loss. He and Fives had been the final members of Domino Squad for so long that he’d been unable to imagine a life without his brother, without his best friend, and he was sure Fives thought the same. 

But now, it was Echo who was the final member of Domino Squad. All the pain and sorrow that Fives had been going through, Echo was now going through as well. In a way, it helped Echo feel better connected to the brother he never got to say goodbye to. 

The rapid buzzing of the comms system broke Echo from his reverie and returned him to his position in the cockpit. When Echo checked the comm line, the communication number matched the one that Rex had given him on Bracca. Everyone else on the ship was asleep, so it would give Echo a private moment to talk to his old Captain. Echo accepted the comm request and impatiently waited for Rex’s figure to appear, despite it only taking seconds. 

Rex was hunched over, draped in the poncho that he’d been wearing in Cid’s parlor, with a weary look on his face. Echo knew that Rex was in serious need of some rest, but he also knew that Rex never rested until all of his work was complete. 

Echo fought the urge to salute Rex, instead saying, “It’s good to see you, Rex. Is everything alright?” 

“Everything’s alright I just … just wanted to talk to you about something,” Rex replied, the tired roughness to his voice making him sound decades older. 

Echo stayed silent as Rex continued, “It’s been a year since Fives’ death and … I don’t know, I felt like I had to contact you to talk about him. Do you remember the plaque I gave you, the one that I painted his helmet insignia on?” 

Of course Echo did. The plaque was nothing more than a roof tile ripped off of a Kaminoan building that had been meticulously painted with Fives’ helmet insignia. Rex had given the plaque to Echo before he left with the Bad Batch as a way of having both Fives and Rex with him. The plaque was small enough that it could easily be tucked into a pocket, so Echo always had it on him. 

Echo pulled the plaque out of his pocket and put it within view of Rex. Even through the slightly distorted hologram, Echo could see Rex’s expression soften and his shoulders drop at the sight of the plaque in Echo’s hands. 

“I always have it with me, Rex. I think of it almost as a good luck charm … as a way of having both you and Fives with me,” Echo spoke softly. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand the circumstances of Fives’ death,” Rex began with a shaky breath, “But I’m damn sure that every day that goes by, I thank Fives more and more for his warning about the inhibitor chips.”

“He was the best brother anyone could ask for. He’d be happy to know he died to save his brothers,” Echo said wistfully. 

Echo and Rex spent the next hour talking of Fives with Echo relaying his favorite memories of his favorite brother while Rex filled Echo in on all of the time Echo had lost with Fives. Eventually, a familiar female voice called out for Rex, leaving the two brothers to say a hasty goodbye before ending the transmission.

With Rex gone, Echo was left alone with the shiny plaque held tight in his hands. The paint job on it was immaculate, and Echo almost couldn’t believe how perfectly Rex had been able to recreate Fives’ helmet. Echo softly traced the blue design before pressing it to his forehead and sighing. He’d never be able to rest his helmet against Fives’ in the way they did after every successful mission, so this would have to do. 

The memory of his lost brother reminded Echo of his new brothers and little sister. He’d had his entire life ripped away from him by the Techno Union, but his new family was helping him rebuild his life brick-by-brick. It was taking time, but they gave him more patience than he thought he deserved. 

It made Echo wonder, what would Fives think of his new family? Would he be upset with him for not staying with Rex and the 501st, or would he be happy that he’d found a new family on his own?

Staring at the plaque in his hands, Echo knew that Fives would only want whatever would make Echo the most happy. He’d been like that their entire lives, one time going so far as to steal a bag of candy for him after Echo off-handedly mentioned craving some. Echo berated him for the act, but smiled every time he unwrapped a piece of candy. The sweet memory still made Echo smile. 

With his gaze locked on the familiar blue paint, Echo began to whisper, “I miss you so much, Fives. I have a new family now and even if they’ll never be the same as Domino Squad, they’ve given me a home.”

Echo paused to collect himself while carefully choosing his next words, “I think you’d like them. I mean, Crosshair is kind of a jerk and I know you two would butt heads, but I’d still trust him with my life. Wrecker, on the other hand, you would absolutely adore. He’s almost as crazy as you, but he’s got a heart of gold. He’s a gentle giant if I’ve ever met one.”

“Hunter is our leader, our sergeant, and is definitely the tamest out of the four of them. Not like that’s hard,” Echo laughed to himself, “He’s a good brother who puts a lot of the team’s worries on his shoulders, too many of them if I’m being honest. Tech … he’s the hardest to describe. He and I work together the most and I enjoy his company. We definitely bicker a lot, but at the end of the day he’s still a good brother. We’d be in a lot of trouble without him.” 

“I think your favorite would be Omega, though. She’s our little sister, and I know you would have loved to meet her. She’d laugh at every single joke you’d make, even if it was one of your stupid ones that only you thought were funny. You … you would be a good older brother to her.” 

The thought of Fives being unable to meet the brothers and sister he so dearly loved brought tears to Echo’s eyes. He knew they’d all jokingly complain about the addition of another reg to their team, but Echo had a strong feeling that Fives would easily find a place among them. Echo wiped away his tears, replacing them with the smile that he knew Fives would want from him. 

With the blue of hyperspace swirling around him, Echo allowed himself to tilt his head back and try to fall asleep. He replaced the grief at the life he had lost with Fives with replays of his favorite memories of Fives, Rex, Domino Squad, and the 501st. With those nostalgic memories in his mind, Echo fell asleep with a soft smile on his face. 

Unbeknownst to a sleeping Echo, a familiar hand now rested on his shoulder as the ghost of Fives stared fondly at his slumbering brother. 

#tbb #the bad batch #tbb echo #echo #captain rex #fives #hurt/comfort #no plot just feelings #tcw #the clone wars #my writing

[accio-victuuri]

The GG & Li-Ning & Xianjiang Cotton Situation

I was asked to give my opinion. This is also for other bxgs who may have the same sentiment. You don’t have to agree with me but i hope you respect whatever it is I choose to share here. This is my blog and my space. I maintain this out of my pure enjoyment of the fandom and all the good it has given me. So let me address some of the points.

Li-Ning boasts their use of XinJiang Cotton

My simple answer here is, of course they will. This is not something new. Li-Ning is a celebrated olympic medal winning gymnast. A billionaire. You don’t get to that place in CHN w/out supporting the government’s agenda. In this case, that there is no injustice and persecution going on in Xinjiang. This brand, boasting about China made cotton, in their terms, shows patriotism and support for their country. This brand’s literal goal at first was to provide a local brand for Chinese athletes to wear in the Olympics. This is also not the first time that Li-Ning had been called out along w/ other international brands due to questionable ethical practices.

I find it very hard to believe that the timing of GG’s massive Li-Ning ad campaign, coinciding as it has with these Western brand boycotts, was a coincidence.

Let’s get this out of the way. Whether the boycott happened or not, Li-Ning is guaranteed an insane amount of sales because they hired Xiao Zhan. This is the same man who always sells out products in seconds. Who took KXZ to 200% growth and so on. I can talk about stats all day but this massive campaign for him is a no brainer. GG is expensive and a guaranteed success. Any brand who hires him will be stupid to not launch an all out campaign across all cities. Li-Ning knows what they are doing by hiring him. For years, they have been trying to appeal to Gen Z. Especially now that youth in CHN are more and more into the “guochao” (国潮) - National trend. Integrating traditional chinese culture and fashion w/ domestic brands. This ties in with the whole movement of erasing the connotation that made in china is of inferior quality. GG was a good choice. He appeals to the younger generation (19-25) and the working class ( 26 and up ) who buys goods. I would imagine even GG’s team did their research and knows this trend is going on too. This will not be the last you will see of this type of endorsement from him or Web. The rumors on this collaboration was going around as early as, March 15 I think? I was literally asking another bxg if GG’s ad will be pushed back a day or two because of what was happening. or what will this all implies. He was always gonna come out and endorse this brand boycott or not.

I am not removing the possibility that these local brands have a hand in the boycott. It’s a very valid concern. or that, it was a convenient perfect storm for them. A perfect storm of EU, US & CAN sanctioning CHN. The sudden attack on brands’ statements against Xinjiang cotton from a year ago. The whole agenda of controlling the people’s view on what is happening. All of these are connected. sure. There are many things behind the scenes that we will not know but we can make an educated guess of. Li-Ning is not the only domestic brand that had a positive push because of this.

On 3/25 Li-Ning’s stock closed with a high of 10.74% , plus an added 9% on the 26th when GG was announced as ambassador. The same thing happened with Anta and others.

I find it very hard to stomach seeing Li-Ning ads on my dash, regardless of GG’s presence in them. Without condemning him for taking this endorsement deal, and without judging what he is or is not personally aware

I will just be addressing GG’s alleged part in all this. I say that cause we don’t live in his brain and won’t know what he’s thinking. You can all try and project your values on him but he is a whole person of his own. I have hopefully given some view on why GG accepted to endorse this brand in the previous point. GG has spent most if not all, of his life in China. He has repeatedly said that he was brought up traditionally. Tho his father was very encouraging in him participating in the arts and widening his knowledge. He had Foreign professors at CBTU. He is part of the generation that knows what’s going on outside by using the internet. He’s smart. I would guess that he is aware of the country he is living in vs what it’s like outside of it. But at the end of the day, his loyalty will always be with his country. I hate to break it to you all but he will continue to live and thrive as an Actor even without international support. Tho it is great that he is a source of National Pride with how people outside of China love him.

Now, about his support for Xianjiang Cotton. I wanna start by showing this:

It’s a post from People’s Daily wb which boasts all the c-ent top stars that voiced their support of XJ cotton. The sense is, hey people look at your idols supporting the cause. Look at their Patriotism. What do you think will happen if GG was not on this list? Knowing that he is a top star in CHN. Knowing he was just in hot waters post 22*? Knowing that he is actively being endorsed in CCTV which is a National Channel. Are we still surprised that he posted that support? I was just honestly waiting for him to post if anything. I talked before about how C-ent celebrities are expected ( and actually it’s in their law ) to be more morally upright than the lay people. This is prime example of that.

Another one is this from CCTV Wb. I’m including this for you all to have an understanding of how this whole thing is being played out in CHN. This is the type of online narrative that is going around and I would think GG is seeing. The sentiment is,

“No matter what hardships, ups and downs and blows go through in our country, her people will always come from all directions and stand up to speak justice and do just things.”

It’s also showing all the hot searches that is related in support of XJ cotton and defending CHN’s innocence.

Also this video that was heavily circulated showing mechanized picking of cotton vs the allegations of manual.

This is the kind of narrative that is going around, as expected. I don’t really fault GG or condemn him for doing what is best for him. What is the best for an individual does not always mean it’s the best for all. In talks like this, I always try and put myself in their position. I mean, who the hell are these people trying to attack my country? the country that has provided for me. I wanna say I understand where they are coming from but understanding does not mean agreeing. I see these A LOT. ALOT ON WEIBO. The China vs. Everyone story. It’s the notion of, they are attacking us and we must protect the country. Also keep in mind that news is heavily regulated.

You know what type of news the CCP would love for them to get a hold of? The rising attacks on Asians in the US. Oh boy they would fuckin love that! Making America the big/bad asian-hating boogeyman in the eyes of their people yet again.

Okay, now we’re down to the final part of this. Why do I share the promo pics for Li-Ning. Where do i draw the line.

To me it’s simple. It had GG in it. I was waiting for this to come out, and tbh, would you all even know about this brand’s practices if the boycott didn’t happen? No. This is a bjyx blog where i share things about them. That includes ad, dramas, pictures and videos. I understand if people don’t feel comfortable w/ Li-Ning ads and others, so just don’t like those posts. Did I buy anything from the collection? No. Did I buy multiple copies Web’s single Youth in Times ( like i do with his other singles )? No. That’s where I draw the line in this. I know we’re all gonna be put on a tight spot again once Faith Makes Great comes out. Once I saw that leaked pic, Ooohhh! I just know. Also if BAH adds some propaganda about CHN’s war on drugs. I am just waiting. I am ready. I know what my values are. I will not allow other people to dictate who I am. I know what type of content I’m only gonna be sharing.

I see this very forceful air of asking bxgs to take a stand on this ( always bxg, never the other side. always us of course even if we are the minority) and it really puts me off. I read someone say that they will not say anything because they don’t owe strangers on the internet an explanation. Which is true. I have separate spaces that I share my views on world/local issues. Accounts that show my actual name and around people I know in real life. That’s what I choose to do for myself. I started this blog for myself and i still find it very bizarre that people follow this account. I am not some sort of KOL, let’s get that straight. This is just a blog where I talk about things if i want to and SCREAM about GG and Web too much. I will probably not answer any follow up questions on this cause i feel like I have addressed a good chunk of it.

Just know that whatever I post on here in support of GG and his projects does not equate to my entire political/moral stand regarding this event or any. It’s really good that we have conversations like this cause it’s an important one.

Whew! That was a long post! 😅

#ask response