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cheriiyaya · 4 months

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𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 uh oh, what do the BSD boys do when they're a little too jealous of the attention you're getting?

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 Contents: Fyodor, dazai, and chuuya x Fem!reader (separately), sfw but suggestive (except in fedya's bc he's a "good christian"),they all wanna kill the guy "flirting" w you (fyodor actually kills him lmfao), uh not proofread so excuse any spelling errors, kinda a test run for me writing for fyodor, reader knows Russian in fedya's part, fyodor being kiiinda manipulative, religious themes in fedyas

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 A/N: was this an excuse for me to write them a lil possessive?...yeah it was. anyways this is my first time writing something suggestive so i hope it's good (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Dazai Osamu

Dazai is indeed, a rather selfish man. While he's not so selfish as to be extremely possessive of you, he does get jealous. Most of the time it's petty; small pouts and whines that are easily remedied when you pepper kisses onto his face and spoil him with your attention that he loves so much.

this was not one of those times. Right now, he can't believe what he's seeing:

A client of the detective agency, flirting with you.

Dazai watches in cold silence as the man laughs at something you said The man leans over a little too close for dazai's liking and whispered something in your ear, causing you to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh.

If he was his teen self, dazai would've stuck bullet after bullet in the man's head.

He clenches his jaw and narrows his eyes in your direction, trying to pull you attention away from that man and towards him with some unknown pull. But you were too engrossed in conversation to notice, fluttering pretty lashes with every blink of your eyes and tilting your head in that endearing way as the man was telling you something..

There was a sensible part in dazai's mind that told him that you weren't reciprocating the man's advances, saying that it wasn't that big of a deal, but he couldn't ignore the curl and twist in is stomach and heart watching you and this man.

Then after a minute or two he just couldn't take it.

He gets up from his desk abruptly, ignoring the few pens and papers that fell off his desk as he strides behind you. He plants his chin on the crown of your head, cocking a lopsided smile that read more like a hidden threat towards the man.

"Bella'! Ah, socializing I see, aren't we?" He runs his bandaged hands down your arms, squeezing the squishy flesh on your upper forearm. His eyes were trained on the client, who was now blinking, looking at you then at dazai for a few time before realizing his error. The man scrambles up, chuckling awkwardly before walking away, and from the look on his blood-drained face you can tell he'll probably ask another one of the detectives in the agency to help with his case.

Once the man leaves you look up at dazai, a crease forming in between your furrowed eyebrows." Osam-" You were cut off by a sharp kiss, dazai hooking a finger under your chin and drawing you closer to him. Letting out a muffled cry of surprise, you try to pull away, which succeeded doing absolutely nothing. With a breathy shudder dazai digs his nails into your shoulders, pulling you flush against his chest and teeth nipping your bottom lip which elicits a soft whine from the back of your throat. He presses his lips onto yours roughly, sucking away the breath in your lungs and only pulling away when he's red in the cheeks and breathless. He pulls away slowly and you draw in a shaky breath through swelling and parted lips, the world around you spinning and your limbs trembling furiously. He runs a thumb over your bottom lip, rubbing it and pressing down onto its soft plush. Dazai draws you close and whispers against your ear, breath brushing against your neck and causing your hair to stand up on end as he speaks;

"My, my bella', seems like you've forgot who's girl you are, hm? Don't worry, I'll make you remember soon enough, juuust wait."

Nakahara Chuuya

Oh god he was so going to kill mori after this.

The two of you were sent on a mission to collect information from a man, which landed the you two in an expensive bar in the heart of Yokohama.

He's repeating the same few words over and over again in his head like a mantra: "it's only a mission, it's only a mission" as he watches you sit flush besides the target, a young man in his late twenties.

But he felt seething envy curl up like flames in his stomach and sear his thrumming heart.

"No, it's just the alcohol." He mumbles, taking a sip of the expensive wine he had ordered, his thoughts drowning out the noisy chatter of people and music and the bright lights of the bar to an incessant buzz. He wasn't...envious or anything. That's quite stupid you don't even like that man! Yet he just can't help but look at the two of you, the way your pretty lips curled into that sweet smile chuuya loves so much as you placed a hand on the man's arm and giggled bashfully at whatever joke the man had told you.

Probably wasn't even that funny. Chuuya bites down on his tongue, resisting the urge to pull you away from that man as he took a sip of the wine that burned down his throat and settled a warmth in the pit of his stomach.

That warmth that brought drowsiness did not help the flare of envy chuuya felt as the man tugs you onto his lap. The man had one hand just under your ribcage and one in between your shoulder blades, tugging you close to him and whispering against your ear.

Bad idea. A very bad idea indeed.

In a flash chuuya weaved his way through the crowd of patrons-or rather shoved his way through with no regards to anyone-over beside you and glared at the man, eyes piercing holes into the man as he pulled you off his lap.

"Don't ya think you're a little to drunk doll?" He chuckles, but he did a terrible job at hiding the bitterness in his voice. This was so stupid, it would jeopardize the whole mission but chuuya didn't care;

Right now, the only thing on his mind was you and jealousy.

You look up at him, blinking and opening your mouth to protest against your alleged intoxicated state when chuuya pulled your through the crowd of people by the arm and out into the cool night street. Once out, you looked at chuuya with wide eyes and mouth agape from shock.

"Chuuya! What are you doing, you could've ruined the mission!" You scoff, blinking a few times before realizing something from his silence and the stare he's giving you.

"You're jealo-" Your chuckle of disbelief was cut off by his lips meeting yours, chuuya pulling closer to him. He mumbles in between kisses, ranging from short and sweet to hungry and harsh. A gloved thumb dragged from the corner of your mouth to your cheekbone as chuuya pulls away from your lips to leave desperate kisses over your face and jaw. Somehow in the midst your fingers found their place tangled in messy ginger strands and you only realized this fact once he pulls away, leaving you breathless with redden cheeks.

"Ha, can't believe some guy would try to take this sight from me, huh pretty girl? Better keep you by me all times now, can't let some guy think he has a chance with my sweet girl."

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Fyodor is no jealous man. Envy was one of the seven cardinal sins, and Fyodor was a man of God. Besides, what is there to be jealous of for a man like him?

Until, he feels an unfamiliar feeling stir inside him as he sees you with another man as you waited for Fyodor.

The way your face lights up in that way when you flash a mirthful smile to that man as the two of you chat about some mundane things. The way delicate fingers tuck stray strands of hair from your face and hold them there as you talk to this stranger causes fyodor to feel something that he hadn't felt in a while (or perhaps just blocked out).

You hadn't realized fyodor coming up behind you until you felt him tap you your shoulder.

"Ah, who is this, milaya?" He smiles in that unnerving way, not the soft smile he'd give you after you beg him to take so rest from his work. This smile read more as a threat.

To you or to the man you were speaking to, you couldn't tell.

Fyodor tugs you to his side, quickly telling the man you were waiting for him before he pulls you along with him.

"Who was that? What were you telling him myshka?" He spoke in Russian, the sharp pronunciation vibrating off the walls of your ears.

"mh, just a man, Fedya. Why?" You tilt your head, furrowing your eyebrows. He sighs and smooths his thumb over the crease, offering a smile to ease your troubled expression

"Ah, just worried. Don't talk to strangers, who knows what kind of intentions they may have." Intentions such as distancing you from him. He brings your hand up to his mouth,, gently kissing your knuckles and rubbing soothing circles onto your palm.

No matter, there would be no way anyone would take you away from him. You were his little doll.

The next day, Fyodor offers to stay inside all day saying that he wished to spend time with you.

How naive for you to believe that, instead he kept you in to keep you unaware of the news of the man dead on the banks of a river.

Wrath, another cardinal sin yet there was no sin great enough that Fyodor wouldn't commit to keep you.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!!

©Cheriiyaya 2024

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takenbypeter · 4 months

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Hi! I LOVED your Wonka x reader fic! Could I maybe request something?? Maybe one where she's the last one stuck in the laundry after everyone else gets rescued and he needs to go back for her? I love angst and fluff haha

All good if not! Love you

Trapped In Your Own Thoughts

Willy Wonka x reader

Words: 961

I am loving all the Wonka love I'm seeing, every time I write for a new character I wonder if anyone will actually request for them so seeing people request for Willy Wonka truly makes me heart melt

Abacus, Piper, Larry Chucklesworth, Lottie Bell, Noodle and you stood in a straight line across from Mrs.Scrubbit as she peered from behind the counter.

What you thought was going to be a tiresome scolding from the woman turned into something unexpected as she laid pounds of money out on the table. She first stated how Mr.Wonka had settled a deal with Mr.Slugworth covering all your bills. And one by one she went down the line addressing every individual until it was just you and Noodle left.

“It’s funny,” Scrubbit says as she stares at the last pile in front of her before glaring directly at you, “Mr.Slugworth didn’t seem to leave a single sovereign for you. Guess you're not important eh?”

You stilled, unable to believe your own ears as Scrubbit smirked at your disheartened reaction. “…this must be some sort of mistake,” you muttered before getting cut off.

“—No mistake at all,” she grinned a toothy grin, “in fact your name didn’t come up at all. So don’t just stand there. Back to work with you,” she ushers and stunned you look around trying to wake yourself from this nightmare that you found yourself trapped in.

“Go.”

With a wave of her hand, you walked past them shutting the door behind you. “Now, for our dearest Noodle…” you heard her voice fade away as you walked to the laundry room in a daze.

You could not believe this was happening. Of course this would happen to you. You shook your head unable to stop the thoughts from swirling as you walked down the hallway past all the now empty rooms, past your own room until you came to the laundry doors.

Climbing down the steps and looking around at the now lifeless room, it was impossible for you to do anything but dwell on the whole situation.

You were stuck here. Alone.

Being here with a group was one thing but alone? That was something you wouldn’t ever wish upon your greatest enemy, (that is if you had one).

This had to be an error. Why would everyone else be free except for you? It didn’t make any sense.

Then your mind slipped back to what Mrs.Scrubbit said about Willy making the deal.

Did he know you were to stay back? No he couldn’t have. Right? Right. You tried to assure yourself before you even had the chance to doubt him any further. That man was too good and too precious for him to accept this deal knowing you’d continue to be held captive like this.

You went back and forth, replaying Mrs.Scrubbit’s words, trying to figure out what could’ve happened.

Was Mrs.Scrubbit right? Were you just unimportant?

Your mind goes back to those few late evening conversations that you’ve shared with Willy. It was kind of silly for you to think anything from that. It was foolish in general for you to think so much of the young man, especially when you’ve only known him for a short period. But you couldn’t help but feel hurt.

Was it that easy to forget you and move on?

Maybe all those experiences just meant something to you.

You could only grind your teeth as you dove deeper and deeper into your self deprecating thoughts. It was difficult to pull yourself out when there was nothing else or knowone else to distract you.

Your thoughts silenced as a screaming pile of bedsheets fell down the chute landing with a hard thud.

The fabric shifted and you spotted familiar brown curls pop out followed by Willy’s head. “I can’t wait for that to be over,” you heard him say as he grunted while climbing out from the chute.

“Willy…” you let out, more surprised than anything to see him.

“Come with me, we’re getting you out of here,” he declared, running up to you without wasting a beat, “we already gathered everyone else, so let’s go.”

He runs back to the chute, waving for you to come over and you do so. Willy prepares an empty cloth bag as well as some laundry so you have a gentler landing and he then pats the empty spot.

You prop yourself up occupying the chute and with your legs bent you hug them close as he scrambles to tug the bag up over your legs.

Thinking about it now, your wandering beliefs were all so idiotic, but for some reason in that moment, you couldn’t stop them from slipping past your lips.

“I thought you were going to leave me behind,” you chuckled.

You meant for it to sound as just a childish passing statement but Willy immediately paused his movements, his arms coming to rest on both sides of the chute around your legs.

“I’d never leave you behind,” he voiced.

It was impossible to stop a tiny shy smile from spreading onto your lips, “yeah, I know but, I don’t know it was just a passing thought.”

“Hey,” he lowered himself to meet you at eye level as you sat, “I would never leave you behind,” he repeated his statement from earlier, his tone soft and delicate yet firm.

It was a simple phrase, but coming from him it meant something to you.

A new concern popped into your head, “wait, what about the contract?” You questioned, suddenly worried about the consequences that would follow.

Willy replied with a smile that told you he already had an answer ready, “don’t worry about that, we have a plan.”

You nodded, allowing yourself to trust the boy before he wrapped your head tying a simple knot.

“I’ll see you on the other side,” he said, giving your leg an affectionate pat before sending you on your way out.

#willy wonka x reader #willy wonka fanfiction #willy wonka fanfic #wonka x reader #wonka fanfiction #wonka fanfic #wonka 2023

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sickuma · 10 months

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TULIPS (2) — a König fic.

❱ this 'might' be the last part but we'll see. Since I am working on a König fic on Wattpad :D also I cannot create c.ai bots at the moment since I have like, 4 hours of waiting time smh. this is unedited! errors might be seen please bear with me ! ➴ SYNOPSIS — After taking the hit for him, you wake up without memories of him, nor the incident. He tries desperately to retrieve your memories.

LATIBULE — (n.) a hiding place; a place of safety and comfort.

How did this happen,

How did our memories vanish before your very eyes?

Have I lost them forever?

Have I lost them with you?

Will you find it in you to fall in love with me the second time around?

“Do you remember these, hm? [name]?” He shows you the pictures, holding them out one by one. Each and every photograph you took together, he remembered dreading those but he would always be happy to see your smile each time he agreed,

“You would force me to take one specific picture, to show our future family! We have a lot by now we—we…” he paused, staring at you.

“We had a lot of memories.”

You looked back at him, feeling your headache ever so slightly crack you head while you looked and observed the pictures. Closely looking, trying to find a speck of remembrance, a sign that you remember. Instead you got nothing but the skull crushing headache.

The doctor had released you for a week now, after the dischargement you both had gone back to the base. You took time to get used to everything, since you have your complete memories except for when you’ve joined the KorTac factions,

In your mind, you still think you’re a trainee who volunteered for the military.

Memories after that are as visible as a blur. Not even a blur, they were just gone. It was a trauma response, the doctor says. You could still remember the look on König’s face as the doctor explains. He looked defeated, almost lost.

But ever since then, he hasn't given up.

He would visit your quarters, picking you up for meals at the mess hall, wishing you goodnight for whenever you’d sleep. He didn't miss a single night,

The soldiers had asked him why you were not sleeping in one room, they claimed you both fought really hard to be permitted to do that. König simply responded that you needed space as you are still trying to retrieve the memories he spoke of, you were grateful for that, he’s willing to distance himself,

Of course it pained him, without you beside him he cannot sleep properly.

But for your sake he pulled through, hugging the shirt you left in his quarters. Holding it close to his face every night, taking in your scent, missing the times when you’d be beside him at night, running your hand through his hair as he dozed off.

Right now you’re with him, outside of the base, away from the guns and military equipment. The captain had convinced you to try, to try to remember him. The captain made sure to let you know just how agonizing this is for König, telling you how much he cried and telling you that he’d never seen König act as such.

You felt terrible,

Because of your incapability to remember, he suffered. Yet when he faces you, he's always got this slight smile, always has a glint of adoration in those pretty green eyes of his.

You found yourself fond of it once again,

Again?

“This… I always force you to take these?”

He grinned, nodding eagerly. “Mhm, every month, without fail.” he spoke so proudly of it, you almost felt a sense of pride spring upon your forgetful heart. You nod in response, looking at the pictures once again,

“König?”

He looked back up at you, “hm?”

“I’m sorry.”

His smile fell and he dropped the pictures carefully on the table, sitting closer to you but far enough to not cause any discomfort. “For what, liebling?”

“For this,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. “For forgetting.”

“Dont—dont ever feel sorry alright?” he spoke, not being able to control the urge to hold your hands. And so he did, placing his hand on yours soothingly. “It's not your fault, never has and never will. You did that for me, and I’m just—just so happy you're here, and proud of you. So so proud, schatz, that you managed to survive that. You did so well, my love.” he rubbed the back of your hand using his thumb, looking up at you with nothing but genuine eyes. “I love those memories,” he paused, “but not as much as I love you.”

“So there is no need for sorrys, liebling, we can retrieve your memories but if I lost you that day, there would be any possible way to get you back.” He spoke quietly yet you could hear him very clearly, it is then you realise just how much he loves you. This man is willing to set aside the way you've just forgotten every memory with him, and is glad to still have you here. His only fear was losing you,

Suddenly the headache is gone, replaced by the dawning realisation. “We’ll make new ones okay? New memories, just as we did before.”

Just how could you forget his eyes?

“If you’ll just let me, I know I'm not more than a stranger to you right now but if you'd just let me in your heart again, I'll surely—”

Just how could you ever forget the blossoming emotion of being in his arms?

How could you ever forget that voice of his which lovingly calls for you,

How could you have forgotten the plans to grow—

“Tulips.” He looked at you with wide eyes. “What did you just—”

“The tulips, König.”

Tears stained his eyes as he sat unable to form a word. He looked at you and only you, letting the emotion surge through his body, letting himself cry for you once again. “We promised to plant the tulips.” Together,

Right König? Our tulips, Just like we promised. In our small house with leaf,

Of course I’ll remember.

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forthechubbies · 1 year

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Our little Wife

Being Korea's deadliest kingpins made seven men into untouchable demons, yet their little wife is made out of sugar and spice?

Mafia! BTS! x Wife! Chubby Reader

Strong language; Jimin’s a drunk asshole, fat shaming, Intense name-calling, sexual assault, puking, violence, man-handling, and bondage. I did say spicy

Happy Halloween

Sex Sells

How else would the brothel remain untouched by the ever-growing society we live in today? Hiding in the dense shadows of Busan, The Brothel’s sign ominously blazed in a firey feisty crimson tint. Yes, for tonight, their god has returned as a return to bless their dreams once more.

Jimin.

Feeling numb through the high alcohol consumption, He smiled for the first time tonight. At what? Himself. He felt foolish for falling hard for a slut like you.

He snickered.

Jimin detests the persistent feeling of worrying about you. Unbelievable, Right? Not really, The sweetness of your warm squishy skin ghosted over his cold limbs due to the building's poor condition.

Autumn’s chill rattled the windows. You love autumn; He fell in love with you genuinely in the autumn-That day, the temperature played in his favor causing you to cuddle up to him as the orangish leaves crunch under their shoes. A plain walk through the park to the outsider but to Jimin, it was pure bliss.

Now, Look at him, Miserable, Heartbroken, ... Bitter.

May how far Jimin has fallen.

Bringing the pint glass to his puffy pink lips tilting his all the back to realize it's bonedry.

Jimin scoffed. “Tapped out.” sitting the glass bottoms up, He gently slides the glass to his collection on his table. “ Three.Four?....Eight! Come on, baby!... 13!-Damn..” His excitement died down at coming to realize a minor yet annoying error.

“That's an odd number...I wouldn't say I like odd numbers...I w-will have just one more.”

Jimin rushed to the stairs leaving in nothing short of pajama pants and its matching top open for the world to see...He forgot to button up after taking his shower.

Freezing mid-sip, Jimin focused solely on you- your shy and flushed expression made his eyebrow twitch-

“ You are by far the prettiest woman I have sight ever.” She leaned in. “You should work here. You would make a gold mine.” She laughed at your bewildered innocence. “ Yep, Korean men secretly worship chubby women like you. There's this young pervert who always comes in asking our chubby girls to sit on his face.”

Your mind is anywhere except on earth. How did your night end up like this? You should be at home in a hot bubble bath melting away the stress of today. Instead, your god knows where with women who have a one-track mind.

Fuck.

Jimin crept several steps over towards you. You looked healthy and as plump as a peach. He found it humorous how much you looked like an actual businesswoman. Slutty tight skirts and blouses ready to be ripped off, and those high heels that would look perfect in two places, and neither of them is walking, at least not straight.

Jimin clicked his tongue. Calm down. Calm down. It's probably what she fucking wants..She’s just an attention whore. Old habits die hard, they say.

The feeling of unknown eyes tracing your figure made you squirm in discomfort.

Ping

Whether it was your desperate need to excuse yourself or your phone pinging off the hook; had Jimin seeing red. Who the hell were you so eager to run off to? Sure as hell wasn't any of your husbands!?

Then who?! Who!

A face full of boiling rage fueled by a dangerously drunken state was a recipe for disaster. Jimin slammed his pint on the bar shattering the glass entirely; he followed you out front and was hot on your heels.

“Yah!” His voice boomed through the quiet red, lit streets.

Startled, You spun on your heels, and the shock of seeing Jimin made the blood in your veins run cold. “J-Jiminie?” You shuddered at his death glare.

Jimin scoffed, tucking any blonde stragglers behind his ears. “ You don't get to call me that after what you did to us!” His chest heaved with sorrow. “You threw away the only people willing to love you forever; what an ungrateful little whore you are. or Are you doing this for attention?” He truly got a kick out of that one.

You stood silent on the brink of tears; He wasn't worth your tears or your time. You turn on your heels only to take two steps before being manhandled by your arm.

“Yah! Don't walk away from me like I'm not fucking talking to you!” Jimin's anger took the physical form of tears. His throat burned so did his nose from the chilly early morning air.

Morning air? Is this correct? 5 am was rapidly approaching, and you had yet to close your eyes to start a new chapter the following day. You want to go home- Your real home; maybe you were stupid for creating this strike. Perhaps you should go back home.

“Your right, Jimin.” Your tears fall onto your ivory blouse. “I'm sorry for being selfish.”

Jimin froze. “No-No, your not getting off that easy. You don't get to get off that easy!” He yanked your skirt, bringing you closer into his arms. “ I want you to take responsibility...You hurt me bad, Chimmy.”

It wasn't until Jimin’s hands started to wander, You recognized the libidinous tone in his voice. He wouldn't dare ravish his own wife, Right?

“Now, Jimine, Let's talk this-”

Jimin shook his head. “There you go, Using that honey voice of yourself. Fuck. You know how to piss me off.” He stole your lips in an instant, biting and pulling at your swollen lips.

Your face pinged at his highly flammable breath. He's drunk. “Jimin-Wa-Wait a min.” You put up a good fight attempting to crease his assault, but even though you're around the same height, his strength trumps yours.

You hissed at the freezing brick wall; Jimin slammed you against- “Jimin! Stop it! This isn't funny!” One of your little hits landed on Jimin’s face.

He froze. You did the same, desperately catching your breath. Jimin’s sweaty blonde locks blocked his eyes; his tongue glazed his irritated lips.

“I can get rough too, Cow.” Jimin lowly chuckled, untying his pajama’s silk belt. “Be a good girl and face the fucking wall!” Jimin spat, gritting his teeth. He yanks you around to face the wall by the roots of your hair.

You gasped in pain.“Ow! Jimin! Please-”

“Please?! Did you just ‘Please’ me?! I hadn't done shit to you yet, and you're already begging.” He groans, taking big steps forward to sandwich you between him and the wall. "Since you're so eager - I guess I should at least tease you..but first- "

You squeaked in pain as his brutally bondage your hands behind your back; you could feel the silk cutting off your circulation. "You're a despicable little monster, Park Jimin!” You spat in his eye when he give you a window. " and you always have been."

Your word choice was an additional shot to his manhood and the end result was a harsh smack sending you to the ground. "Pretty bold words for tied-up cattle-” He flashed an eat shit-grin. “-In a woman's clothing.” The cheeky bondage method Jimin displayed is one of his favorites, a technique used for his clients who seek thrill and lore as much as insane pleasure.

Yn’s arms were kept tight behind your back with no wiggle room.

“You talk big but look at you...at my mercy” He looks at you in amusement as he squats beside you. “You're ours, Yn! When you met that demonic bunny, you sealed your fate. You don't even know what a real monster he can be-

Your heart stopped an ink-like figure crept out of the darkness, inching closer. “Jimin! Turn around!” Jimin failed to heed in time, costing him a stone punch to the jaw, followed by the figure’s heavy black boot to his abdomen.

You were expecting Jimin to be in somewhat pain; however, He chuckled, signaling for a timeout between the figure. Lacking, Your extra set of eyes, thanks to Jimin; you couldn't get a good look at him.

“Come on. I barely touch her yet. You can't be that mad.” Jimin swiped the blood caked up in the corners of his mouth. “ Aish, Don't you think you hit me a little too hard-”

The figure remained silent but waited no time to send Jimin to the ground again.

“Ah! Fuck!” He coughed up the dirt in his lungs before finally puking up the ungodly amount of poisonous liquid he had consumed.

Your sniffs and whimpers didn't go unnoticed. You squeeze your eyes shut as its heavy boots stop at your shuddering body. You've managed to set up and have knees to your chest.

The figure had a great view of standing above you like this. You heard his shoes glide on the gravel; Is he gone? Oh please, please, god, please, please. You swallowed your fear and opened your eyes; you quickly learned how much of a mistake you had made.

He rudely had no disregard for your personal space. The tip of his nose grazed yours, and his eyes bored into-

Those big eyes...Jungkook? But his build is different; he's larger than my Kookie...It hasn't been that long, right?

He leaned into your lips to have you reject him. “ What are you crazy?! I'm married!” You extended your leg to his chest to keep him a bay. It worked until the bastard started feeling up your leg; he kissed your ankle.

The touch-starved stranger dragged his gloved hand down your battered stockings and tarnished soft skin. He clicks his tongue, pushing your foot off his chest.

Did he just roll his eyes at me?

He stood up before snatching you up by your silky bonds. “ Eep!” You felt nausea after being treated like a ragdoll for the past hour.

The last thing you heard was Jimin’s voice before blacking out.

...

The warm sunlight overwhelmed your sleepy eyes. Once your eyes adjust to the sunlight, The horror settles in-

You were cleaned, dressed, patched up, and placed in your princess room.

#bts smut #bts x chubby reader #chubby reader #yandere jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x chubby reader #yandere jungkook #jungkook yandere #yandere bts #bts mafia series #bts mafia au #poly ot7 #ot7 x chubby #yandere bts x chubby reader

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respectthepetty · 5 months

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Have you ever seen characters change their color code during the series or maybe during different seasons? I mean I have seen and read how colors get mixed when the pairs with different colors fall in love or how the colors get brighter or darker based on character mood or development; but has a character(s) ever not been a singular consistent shade?

Oooohhhh, Anon, I am excited about this question because it is one of the major reasons I love color coding.

TLWR: Yes, some characters have not been a singular consistent shade because colors never lie.

Color coding means we get to see a character's true colors because characters don't really change their color. They hide it, and all examples show that. A few examples exist of characters developing a color as they become more aware of themselves rather than them intentionally hiding it like Aoki's evolving orange as he fell in love in My Love Mix-Up,

Or Diao's blue emerging and overshadowing his yellow as his family's past was revealed in Naughty Babe.

Which is similar to Tai's color in La Pluie combining yellow and blue as he figured out his soulmate business.

but those processes still support the idea that the true color was buried somewhere in them, much like these characters:

Hide and Seek

Vegas (KinnPorsche) and Boston (Only Friends) put on a Green Guy Mask since they wanted to appear as chill guys,

when they were hiding the fact that they were actually Red Rascals.

And vice versa when Jae Young (Semantic Error) posed as a Red Rascal to get under Sang Woo's skin

when he was really a Green Guy.

The entire cast of Pit Babe were or are Reds

and are changing or faking being Blues (I trust NO ONE, especially Charlie, Way, and Jeff!), and even though characters changed from the teaser trailer

the teaser trailer did an excellent job of establishing that deceit.

I think we are getting a similar color narrative in Playboyy where no one's true color is revealed, except Yellow Yal Zouey's

since everyone is hiding something and everyone is a suspect.

And it's also why I already don't trust Mek's character in the upcoming Red Peafowl since all the mafia members are color coded,

yet he wore a neutral color to the meeting even though he is the leader of the Black Turtles.

I'll have to wait until the second part of Shadow airs next week to finalize my theory, but it seems to be showing what can be trusted

and what cannot.

Siwon (Blueming) hid his blue behind a blank white due to being bullied when he was younger

but the blue kept showing up no matter how much he tried to hide it.

Daisy (Secret Crush on You) tried to hide their color

But their friends came in with the solid advice.

Because a person cannot change hide their true color.

It'll always show up.

Eventually.

Because colors never lie. Characters do.

#the colors mean things #and they mean a character is hiding something #the colors never lie #but characters do #so if a character's color is changing #it's because their true color is emerging #color coded boys lie

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heart2beom · 1 year

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2. how to get fired

SYNOPSIS a romcom office series; in which you're a huge romantic at heart but the shitty men you attract leaves you with countless failed relationships. then, you meet choi soobin. in an elevator. he isn't interested in you, he finds you annoying, and he clearly has zero respect for you, so why the hell are you so bent on making him like you?

AUTHOR NOTE the way im literally killing my engagement by delaying my posting time so early on in this fic..tsk tsk. whatever, at this point, im writing this for fun

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Your history with men: long, futile, possibly traumatic -- which, you guess, is more reference of the ends of your relationships, but besides the point. The most important of all, of course, is how all of the men you've dated liked you more than you did them.

You don't mean to brag, really, but despite those relationships ending, it always starts off incredibly well. By making the first moves -- subtly to not risk a man's toxic masculinity hurting his ego, you get a guy right there, right under your fingertips.

It's worked for years, after trial and error, trial and error, your N.U.T strategy, originally developed in your sophomore of high school, has proved to be successful in all regards of getting a man.

Yes, the names silly, albeit best to remember you were a teen, but changing the acronym would mean changing the magic...the steps work! It's simple really, because it goes like the following:

N = NAME rule: repeat his name as much as possible (higher success rate with aegyo)

A week after the blonde had joined the team, Chaewon already decided to use him as an excuse. Inviting everyone to dinner on tuesday, because apparently it was to celebrate blonde's one week anniversary at the job. Apparently.

Beomgyu was the one who first started the dinner after work thing and everyday, you remember to sleep hating the man for leaving this legacy behind because even when the asshole left, it continued on, to your dismay. Chaewon was apparently his successor, because she had taken the role of pestering everybody about work dinners the moment he left.

Hanging out with your colleagues after work was such a bizarre thought. Not only was it a direct violation of your strict Separate Work Life from Personal Life policy, it was unnecessary. When she first invited you, you wondered if there were genuinely psychos who would go out of their way to hang out with people that remind them of work.

You didn't have to wonder for too long. Coincidentally (not) enough, the psychos were all around you. The entire office would frequently go out after work with the exception of you and Mr. Geuk, your manager. Who was never really invited in the first place.

"Hey! Fake blonde!" you shouted out to your colleague, who you found was in the elevator. Which really seemed to be the only place you could talk to him.

This time, different to before, he had acknowledged you and reached out to press a button. You expected it to close so you hurried your pace towards the elevator, but it didn't, it stayed open.

A bloom of proudness spread across your chest, was you mentally preparing to got through with N.U.T so incredibly powerful he already got effected? It truly seemed like it.

When you walked in, you looked over to him for a bit. Until you broke into a little smile. "Hey, thanks for—"

Your sentence was interrupted the minute your eyes fell onto Chaewon's figure, the back of her little bob right in your face.

She turned to you to give a little thanks — which you assume is about the elevator being left open. You just nodded, shamelessly taking the credit.

But when she turned around to face the closing elevator, you lightly scoff. If he didn't see Chaewon behind you, he would've let the elevator close like normal, meaning N.U.T wasn't powerful enough to transcend human capabilities, it was a shame.

It was also incredibly awkward. Your proudness deflated and the elevator still going as slow as ever.

"Y/N, do you really not want to go out with us today?" Chaewon suddenly spoke up.

You don't know why you took the time to pretend like you were thinking about it since her back was facing you, but you did anyway. "Sorry Won, just can't."

She turned herself to you again. "But why" she drawled, pouting.

"You know...you know how busy I get..." you lied, making sure to avoid eye contact.

But it didn't help you out too much. Chaewon figured you'd lie, as she just exhaled, knowing you wouldn't budge on your policy. Maybe the lie would've held up if you haven't been audibly complaining in the office about how you have nothing to do, practically every other week.

"It's a small get together, right?"

You looked at the person next to you, then you and Chaewon looked at each other, than back at the blonde, both of you clearly being startled that he spoke.

"Um, yeah. Yeah! It's just the people at work at some old diner and stuff."

"Well, I'll be there then." he said, to which Chaewon froze, then frantically nodded, smiling ear to ear, no sign of her previous sulky face, telling him the details of...whatever, you weren't listening really.

You only stood there, with your hand tightened on your bag as you let your thoughts go far too deep. You know Kim would've asked him out to the dinner, she invites anyone and everyone — with the exception of Mr. Geuk. You figured from that information alone that the blonde initially rejected the invite.

So the sudden change of heart baffled you, it left you confused. It wasn't like she added any new inciting information; she just asked whether or not you were coming.

Which you emphasized you weren't...and like a bulb lit up above your head, you've solved the mystery in a matter of seconds.

The elevator had reached the lobby floor, the elevator door open, exiting a hurried blonde.

You've figured who the blonde was by the one week of observation — he wasn't an easy man. But by this interaction alone, you'd concluded who he was -- a savage, an evil, annoying preppy little blonde.

So, you did what you promised to never do — turn into a psycho.

You ran to catch up a little to Chaewon, who was only a few steps ahead of you.

Before she could say anything, you interrupted with an inhale, then an exhale, giving up your life long policy. "I'm coming too." you said, dropping the bombshell.

"To...?"

"To the after work dinner, of course."

It was silent, for a bit as you both stared at each other.

"Oh, cool!"

You were most definitely hoping for a more enthusiastic response, but that was forgotten quickly.

Which is how you found yourself grumbling, as you had your arms folded holding a storming grudge, sitting right across of the blonde, dimpled, gigantic, ass. You made sure to push Sunghoon out the way to get the chair right in front of the little asshole, to which the silver haired rolled his eyes at.

There was a need bubbling inside your gut, a need to destroy the blonde…and also find out his issue with you. Other than you planning his doom, which, he doesn’t know about. He shouldn’t know about.

You had Chaeryeong, who was practically five seats away from you, squeezed in the tables corner, very confused, practically asking you hurd of questions with her eyebrows. You tried to make her understand but alas, you're no expert in transmitting information without using the art of the tongue, and it was getting awkward with everyone looking between the two of you, so you just shook your head at Chaeryeong in a way of saying 'not now'.

Which was simple enough for her to nod, and hesitantly tune back into the conversation with the rest — being Chaewon the bob cut, Sunghoon the idiot, Jaehyun the hot douche, Sakura the cool one, and Yunjin the intern. You figured the conversation wasn’t so hot to jump yourself into.

In the duration of the team dinner, you found it extremely hard to start up a conversation with the man across from you. He was right there, why did it feel like there was a literal gigantic wall between the two of you? You snapped yourself out of it by shaking your head, you were getting distracted and discouraged.

You had to follow up with N.U.T, no matter what.

"Hey!" you said chirply. You made sure in front of him, you slightly slammed your hand on the table, which, thank goodness, finally caught his attention. He smiled a little tightly, but it was a smile regardless.

Which you completely forgot to plan ahead of time, you were expecting him to ignore you again -- you even mentally prepared to make a scene and throw a drink at his face.

"Hi!" you said again, as a form of a greeting this time.

"Hey, Y/N." he replied.

And, as a direct result of your lack of planning, this was your first strike of crisis. Your head was blank, trying to search for names to match up with his face but the only thing popping up was, sickly, fake blonde.

Your faux confidence was deflating all the more, nervousness cracking a little more through the facade. "Hi, uh,"

His brow perked up, the polite smile he put up, dropped. Completely.

And so, your brain went into full red emergency blaring mode. "Hi So..hyun?"

His expression was far from impressed.

You had it in there somewhere, it was in there. "Soo...hyung?" you said again with the ends of your lips trembling.

"Um, my name is—"

"No!", you yelled out of impulse, which proved to be a mistake since it caught the attention of the entire table.

"What happened?", Chaewon asked, worried.

"Nothing, nothing. I was just—"

"She shit her pants." Jaehyun interrupted, which then shifted the entire table's focus on to him. He shrugged. "I don't know, she looks constipated."

"What? Nope, no, I'm not going to engage with this when we're in an out of work setting." you raise your hands in surrender then drop them, "Seriously, guys. It's nothing, continue talking about Die Hard...or something."

"Nobody... was talking about Die Hard." Chaeryeong said, which you figured was out of instinct. You glared at her, and thankfully she took the hint quickly as she made an 'O' shape. When she weirdly carried their not Die Hard conversation again, you and the blonde were made sure to be excluded.

You turn your full focus on the guy, seeing that a subtle pout was formed on his lips as he looked at the group, looking like he wanted to desperately join in. You sighed at the site; he was pitiful.

You composed yourself preparing to take one last shot. "It's Soomin right?"

"Soobin. It's Soobin." he said, cattier than earlier.

"Ah..." you nodded, your brows knitted together. "Are you sure? I clearly remember manager calling you Soomin!" you were digging yourself a bigger hole the more you talked, but no matter how many times you tried, you couldn't stop yourself from talking.

"You silly goose, you're trying to prank me! Just a warning though, I'm not the biggest prank fan." you said awkwardly following that up with a chuckle.

And to that he had his brows deeply furrowed, to which you respond with a dropped smile.

"Me and you, S-soomin," you said the name hesitantly, gulping felt like you were swallowing down shame. It was painful, incredibly painful. "Soomin, I just know we're going to be very good friends. Me and you," you point to him then back to your face. "A couple of best friends."

He didn't respond to that, rather just nodded, then refocused his attention on a totally irrelevant, not Die Hard conversation that was happening beside you both.

You had to take your shot or giving up your policy was going to turn out to be a complete waste. So, you cleared your throat, "Or perhaps lovers." you said under your breath.

He heard. Oh, did he hear. He snapped his head to you, again, with the same raised brow.

You gave him a quick smile, your eyes wandering down to the surface of the table as your lips kissed your teeth in embarrassment.

This was harder than you imagined.

But thus, you learned a new, valuable lesson. N.U.T wasn't fool proof, sometimes, a step might fall through, and when that happens, you need to remind yourself that human beings are diverse creatures—men are diverse creatures.

One step might not work, or can't work, but it didn't guarantee your complete failure. In fact, you had two more steps—frankly, better steps.

U = UNEXPECTED TOUCH rules: little touches, as unexpected as possible

Its been a few weeks after the Soomin incident, and you've learned to build up your relationship with the blonde in hopes of making the second step not be abrupt. So far, you've been ...failing. You don't even see him in the decade old elevator anymore! It was getting bad.

"So, what? Your nutting plan isn't working anymore?"

You snapped your focus from Soobin to the girl behind the desk you were leaning on, Chaeryeong.

"First of all, keep your voice down!" you hissed. "And second of all, it's called nut because I used to really like nuts in high school. It has nothing to do with nutting."

"For some reason, I'm having a hard time believing that." she said, then you rolled your eyes, shifting your attention back to the distressed blonde on a call.

"It's kind of funny though, if you think about it." you mumbled, reaching for the oatmeal cookie jar.

"Nutting? Not really."

"Oh my god Chae," you groan looking back at her again, "I'm talking about Soobin!"

Her lips make an O shape in realization, as she rests her forearm on the desk. "What's funny about him?" she whispered.

"How he's completely avoiding me." you mumbled as you noticed him getting up from his chair, heading to what you think would be the printing room.

"Okay, I have to go. Give me a high five for good luck." you quickly said raising your hand, Chaeryeong raising hers to slap yours, completely out of loop.

Then off you went, with a cookie you don't want in your hands, speed walking to catch Soobin in the printing room.

And thankfully, you weren't wrong. You noticed his back hunched over the printer.

"Want some help?" you asked, to which he turned around. You expected to see a horrified expression with the way hes been avoiding you, but he just had a small smile as he nodded.

Chaeryeong's high five...you have to thank her later.

"It's not printing for some reason. I have no idea why." he mumbled, stepping back to make way for you to take a look.

"Well..." putting your hands on your hips, you looked at the printer. The one thats been here since the building was founded. The thing is, no one knew how to make it work, it was spontaneous. It worked, then it didn't.

But you weren't going to tell Soobin that.

You put your free hand on his shoulder, looking directly into his eyes. "Soobin—hey look, I know your name now!" your changed tone was that of excitement but Soobin was left confused. So you cleared your throat, your voice deeper. "Soobin, I am so glad that you reached out to me. With courage like yours, I'd think you were an ex veteran. And I feel like, through this interaction, we can be the great friends that I promised you we would be. And maybe, something more—"

He pushed your hand away from his shoulder. "I was just asking for help with the printer?"

"I was just asking for help with the printer" you mimicked him in a mocking tone, you'd like to look back and believe this was your way of bantering. But he definitely didn't think so, with his face scrunched up at the impersonation. You shrugged. "Soobin, this is a bonding moment between two colleagues. Maybe friends, maybe two flirting buddies—"

"How are we anything more than colleagues?"

"Hey, what's going on here?" you looked at the door to see Sunghoon poking his head in, then you rolled your eyes.

"I just needed help with the printer." Soobin said pointing with his thumb to the back.

“Oh, that thing?", you glared at the boy in hopes of sending him a signal to shut up, but alas, it was no use. He just gave you a weird look back before continuing. "If it doesn't work, it's not going to work. You're better off with the printer in the manager's office."

"Ah, I didn't know that. Thanks."

You cursed under your breath as you saw Sunghoon walk away through the glass wall.

"I was about to tell you that. But you interrupted me." you said holding up a forced smile.

“You know I have, like, a hundred clients on hold? You completely wasted my time on purpose!"

"Okay, let's calm down. Hear me out." he raised his brow, waiting for you to continue. "Having a good relationship with your colleague is proven to be important—"

He rolled his eyes, as he dropped his hands to his sides, preparing to walk away.

"Soobin, look—"

"I would like it if you called me Mr. Choi from now on." he said coldly, turning away to leave the printing room.

And that was that. This man officially hated you.

"Don't you think it was too easy for him to hate me? I only stalled for what, three seconds? And suddenly I'm wasting his precious time?" you sulked, staring down at your cup of coffee.

"What's stopping you from hitting him with nut's final blow?" Chaeryeong asked, then tilted her head. "Nevermind, probably a restraining order."

Like a light bulb switched on once again, you turned to face Chaeryeong. "No, but you're right. The last step is the most impactful." Chaeryeong shook her head to stop you from continuing, which was a failed attempt.

"Hear me out, okay. It could reverse his dislike for me, like I'm not even trying to make him fall in love with me anymore, I'm just trying to not make it awkward working next to him. Frankly, I'm really thinking for the team here, It'll be good for the work environment."

"Right." she drawled, narrowing her eyes at you as she took a sip of her coffee.

"If you don't believe me, watch." you said, getting up from your chair, keeping your head up high, as you walked out of the break room.

You found Soobin still sitting at his desk, using the computer. Everybody else was either in the break room, or outside eating lunch, but he was just there.

Looking at...hedgehogs?

When you squinted your eyes to see the search more clearly, you found it was 'hedgehog pet food'. It was odd, but you smirked to yourself as you slowly approached him.

You had material for your last step.

T = TAKE INTEREST rules: in his interests

"Hey." you breathed out. Soobin jumped a little, immediately closing the hedgehog tab. Then, he spinned his chair around to you, collecting himself.

"I'm so sorry for earlier today, you know, wasting your time and stuff."

His eyes widened a bit in shock, then he cleared his throat, holding up a smile. "Oh. Well, thanks for apologizing."

You nodded. "Yeah, you know, I just get so weird at work when I don't get enough sleep. My hedgehogs keep me up at night, it's a nightmare."

"Wait, you have hedgehogs?" his brow perked up.

Again, you nodded, that time with a smile of achievement. "Mhm, yeah. People say from time to time, 'oh it must be so easy', and I'm just like, go get yourself a hedgehog first." you were getting in character as you talked, arms folded.

“No, exactly. People think it's so easy!"

"Oh my god, wait. You have a hedgehog too?" you asked, fauxing disbelief, slack-jawed.

"Yeah, I do. Only one though. I heard its hard with multiple." he said.

"It is." you mouthed which earns you Soobin's light chuckle, his eyes morphing into crescents.

"Hey," your brows perk up at him speaking up. "I'm sorry for you know, getting mad at you. You were just trying to be friendly—"

"So, here's what I'm getting. Everyone with the exception of me, is betting on Soobin not falling in love with Y/N by the end of the month?" you heard Yunjin say, very loud and very clear.

Your eyes widened as you looked at Soobin, who was very confused, back to Yunjin, who was walking backwards, facing Chaewon, Jaehyun, Sunghoon, and Sakura. They were just coming in from outside, holding the lunch they promised to get.

When Yunjin turned around, she stopped at her tracks, looking at Soobin who had now stood up from his chair, then you, who was already standing.

You inhaled then exhaled, your arms crossed as you bit down on your bottom lip.

"Shit." you said under your breath.

"So...so what I'm hearing is that you made up this stupid plan—"

"It's called nut." you muttered.

"You know that's not helping you out, right?" he scoffed, turning around to the side to quickly run through his hair.

Soobin had publicly embarrassed you by giving you a 'we need to talk', and making you follow him like a child to the printing room. Which, isn't known to be a friend to privacy.

He was practically scolding you right in the open, the glass walls showing the scene to employees outside.

"Look, I don't know how they found out. I only told this to Chaeryeong."

"The receptionist? Are you insane? Of course it'll get out if you tell the receptionist at work!" he hissed, then he exhaled, his shoulders dropping a bit.

"Was this, like, your way of hazing me? Be honest."

Would this get you out of trouble? You weren't going to admit that you did this to plan his doom.

Or make him think you did it because you liked him.

You finally nodded. "Yeah. Its like a tradition. We even did it to Yunjin when she first came."

"You bet on her falling in love with you? By the end of the month?"

"Yeah. People do this type of hazing a lot in sales." you lied. "I'm surprised you haven't heard of it."

"Well, that's weird. Because it's quite literally against the rules." when he saw your eyes widen, and your composure breaking, he continued, "Hazing is qualified as harassment to HR."

And then, boom. The final blow.

"Ah. I see!" you squeaked, your anxiousness reaching an all time high. "Well, good thing this was just friendly, you know, games." you said as you quickly headed to leave the room.

"I'm going to report you to HR." he said, as you reached out for the door knob. You spinned around, with hands on your hips, and a trembling smile. You took a deep breath in.

"You know what's so great about this country? Freedom! And rights! You have the right to report me to HR, and—and seriously, I commend you for it. So, you know, good luck." you said, then turned around to the door, a curse slipping out your mouth.

Then, you turned around to face Soobin again. "I would, though, like, appreciate it if you didn't. But, you know, your choice." you corrected your earlier statement, chuckling awkwardly.

Soobin only gave you a tight lipped smile, one that highlighted his dimples. Which just confirmed your doom.

You finally walked out, stomping to the break room. You needed to know how everyone found about this.

Everyone's gaze fell upon you when you walked in, the mood being tense.

"He's reporting me to HR." you finally said, breaking the silence.

"What? Wow, you bothered him that bad?" Sunghoon said.

"Oh my god, is she going to get fired?" Yunjin added. "Before me?"

You rolled your eyes, pulling out a chair to sit down, your energy was at a complete low. Your attention snapping to Jaehyun, who was chewing his fried chicken loudly.

"Can you close your mouth when you eat asshat?!" you snapped.

"Jesus—alright, alright." he said putting his wing down.

"Y/N, I don't want to say I told you so, but I really want to." Chaeryeong whined, flailing your arm around. You glared at her, but nod to give her permission. You definitely deserved it.

"I told you so." she whispered, which earned her Chaewon's shaking head in disapproval. "What? It felt good, if anyone's wondering."

“I think I can go convince him not to report you." Sakura spoke up.

You shot your head up to Sakura. "Wait, seriously? Oh my god, you're a genius—a mentee has to practically obey their mentor. Thank you so much Kkura, you're seriously the best."

She lightly laughed. "I mean, I'll try. I don't know if it'll actually work."

You blowed her kiss, mouthing a thank you, pouting at how cool she is.

"So, when exactly are you guys going to makeout?"

And, the moment was ruined.

You flipped off Jaehyun, to which he responded with sticking out his tongue immaturely. But then that reminded you of the reason you came here in the first place and your face soured.

"Wait, how did you guys know about the bet? I mean, it wasn't technically a bet—how did you guys know?"

Chaewon spoke up this time. "You told us. At the diner a few weeks ago. You don't remember?"

You shook your head, brows knitted as you slowly tried to recollect the memory.

"God, you must've been really wasted."

In conclusion, you caused your own downfall.

For the rest of the week, you tiptoed around your manager. Especially after Sakura informed you that Soobin wasn't budging. You don't know what you thought it would do, Mr. Geuk was known to be spineless, he wouldn't fight for you to stay if HR determined that you had to leave. But you weren't in the position to risk anything, so you really tried to suck it up.

Mr. Geuk was easy, but exhausting to please. Another week went by, and every minute felt like you would be called up to his office and told about your termination. So, you went back to the break room, to prepare a plate of tea and a sandwich—you truly were a slave at this point on.

When you walked to approach his office, the tray in your hands, you heard yelling. Then immediately, the door burst open with Soobin coming out. He gave you a quick glare, but then went on to ignore you. When you saw him go, you hesitantly walked in the office.

"Mr. Geuk? I prepared you some food, I know the job gets hard." you said smiling, putting the tray on the small coffee table.

"Ah, thank you. You didn't have to, but thank you." he said smiling to you.

You walked over to his desk slowly. "What happened with Soobin?"

He sighed. "I really thought I'd get another you, but I think now I've just come to appreciate your skills a lot more." you raised a brow, waiting for him to continue. "He's a horrible salesman!" he yelled throwing his hand up.

"Way worse than Chaewon. He's driving all our clients away!"

"Ah..." you said quietly. "Are you thinking of... firing him?" you asked with a glint of hope. It was low of you, but if he was gone, that meant you weren't going to get fired. Of course that would make you attempt to bite away a smile.

"What? No! I mean, I wish! But we don't have the resources to go through another hiring process." he said, groaning as he spinned around in his chair. "Fuck, did you see that little brat? Stomping out when I gave him just a little more hours as punishment!"

You sighed. If the manager wasn't going to fire him, that meant Soobin was going to stay. You had to do something.

"Boss, don't scold him too much." you reluctantly mumbled.

"Huh?" he sneered. He stopped spinning, facing you now.

"I mean, he's practically a rookie. I wasn't the best when I first started working here, you know? He just needs a little guiding, I promise. Just... lay off the hours." you bit your bottom lip, "Pretty please?" you clasped your hands together, pouting.

He exhaled, shoo'ing you away. "Alright, alright, I'm trusting you. Go back to work."

You nodded, a smile forming at the ends of your lips as you exit the office.

You looked to find Soobin, but he wasn't at his desk. So, you tried the next best thing.

The printing room.

"What are you doing?"

Soobin was, once again, hunched over the printer. This time, poking the inside of it with a pen. When he turned his head to see you, he rolled his eyes, ignoring your question.

"That's a lot of attitude for someone who's bad at their job." you blurted.

"The manager told you." he concluded, sighing. You nodded, your arms folded, smugness overtaking your pose.

"I'm trying to fix the printer." he said, turning back to it.

"With a pen?" you asked in disbelief. "Hey, if you're doing this to impress Mr. Geuk, don't, it won't work."

"What? Seriously? So, what will? I can't get stuck with unpaid overtime this week." you didn't respond, choosing to stay silent, to which he responded to with a groan. "Look, I'll—I'll drop the HR complaint. Just tell me how to get the manager off my back, you're clearly on his good side."

You bright up, walking over to him now. "We should make a deal first."

He cocked his head to the side when you snatched the pen from his hand and took a sheet of paper from the printer. "A peace treaty, let's make a peace treaty." you corrected yourself, writing the title Soobin & Y/N peace treaty.

"Also, permission to call you Soobin?" you asked tilting your head, still holding the smug smile.

"Yeah, yeah whatever." he mumbled.

All there is to say, was that once again, you managed to dig yourself out of your own hole — successfully.

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hellsfirekeepsyouwarm · 1 year

Text

All Hell Breaks Loose Pt. 2

Oh hello there! I'm finally done with the second part, the last few day i constantly fell asleep while rereading and editing, so there will bee errors. For sure. Happy reading! Also I have no idea where I'm going with this so bear with me.

Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood-injuries-torture, weapons, Graves being annoying. I guess spoiler for MW2, absolutely inaccurate plotline, it's impossible for Graves to be with us in this fic, but here we are 😁

Summary: Ghost gathered the whole team for a rescue mission that's the most important job he's ever done. A mission he can't fail.

Weapons. Check. Flash and frag. Check. Knives. Check. Rage. Check. Bloodthirst. Double check.

"Lieutenant!....Ghost?" Johnny's thick annoying Scottish accent seeps into his thoughts. When Simon looks at him he seeing the usual determination laced with a mouthful of concern. "What's the plan?"

Simon steals a glance at the nearby table, the blueprint of a makeshift mercenary base taunting him with it's lines, providing endless possibilities of a place to hold you hostage. If you are even behind those walls. He has no plan, at least a sane one. His plan is to march in there killing every man he's up against until he finds you.

He's a soldier damnit, he should communicate, but he has nothing to say. He can't fucking lead this mission, if he does, it'll fail miserably, and they'll all die while doing so.

Simon looks at Price, his face hiding behind the smoke of his cigar. A silent plead, the one Price never witnessed before. Not from Simon anyway.

Simon needs to give the lead away, to someone else, someone who he can rely on. He would trust Price with his own life, so yours is in perfect hands. His only goal is to reach you, and he can't do that while making sure everyone is in their place, following orders.

Price gestures for everyone to gather around him when Gaz finally steps in the room, completing 141 with all members. Except you.

Price shifts his eyes around the table, acknowledging all the eyes locked at him before starting the briefing. "This is our only lead, i don't have to emphasize how important this operation is. Approximately 67 hours have passed since the kidnapping, we get proof of life every 24 hours, that means we get a new update in 5 hours. In that time period our move is to infiltrate the building, find her, and exfil. This has to be done in complete stealth, in and out. With our last member."

Simon zones out, his mind flowing with Price's words. He can't think about anything but what horrible things you might go through at the moment. He remembers too well of his own terrors of captivity, the mere idea of the same brutality happening to you twisting his insides. He feels psychically sick, the required food and liquid that gives him energy turns upside down in his stomach.

He sees blood red, injuries, tears and dirt, body in agony, spirit broken constantly behind his lids when he closes his eyes. The faint breath when the camera was close enough to your bruised face.

Gaz is asking about Laswell, Soap is demanding action and in that moment Simon can't find comfort even in Price's confident voice.

He's gonna go insane.

In this line of work, this isn't knew. Held captive, being a prisoner of war, torture, interrogation. He's gone through all of them and more, and he's fucking frightened that it's happening to you as he stands there amongts his friends and brothers. Free, feeling the soothing heaviness of his weapon, gear strapped around his body, full with adrenalin in a healty and unharmed vessel. At this moment, you don't have any of that. And he knows how much you must hate it. He has seen you going through that while healing from that nasty chest wound months back.

That faithful bullet near your heart was everything for him. A breaking point, the end of the world, an invisible force pushing him towards you. That bullet made him sit beside your hospital bed, saying silent prayers to whatever higher power that can help you breath life back into you. That bullet made him confess his feelings, openly, withouts distractions and detours. He said you mean everything to him, and he was happy that you lived to hear him say those words. He never ever will regret anything he said, more like regretting not saying more.

He needs air. He needs to get it together before he lunges into a possible suicide mission. He leaves the room without a second look, or a word to his teammates.

Breath Simon, just fucking breath, the mantra repeating itself in his brain.

The air is fresh, but it's stained with the scent of iron. He feels the smell of blood in his nose non-stop, he's certain it's just him, just his head taunting, laughing. You couldn't simply protect her, you swore to keep her safe, and how that turned out? At this point, he can't trust his own mind, everything in his head is altered from agony and wrath.

Mind switching from shame of feeling bad for himself to the guilt of his part in this shitshow. In one moment he's gnawing himself for ever letting his guard down, letting himself to be comfortable enough to be able to be found by Graves, in the other his whole head is filled with your shallow breath in that video. He's eating his own mind up, running in circles, consuming his good parts, leaving nothing but a white skull behind. A ghost with nothing and everything to lose.

"Do you remember that day?" You scoff. It's ridiculous to have this conversation with Graves. So light, so casual. Everything feels surreal.

You aren't tied to a chair, your limbs are free to move, in fact, you could simply run for fucking freedom. But you know better, the room is already crowded with Graves's men, the hallway was full of them, to be honest you saw at least 20-30 men since the blindfold was lifted from your face. And after mentally noting your minor but painful injuries, you are certain you have no chance to just run for if, most likely that's why you aren't restrained in the first place.

"i was occupied with a bullet in my chest you know." You can't help but sound bitter.

He smiles, a smile you saw millions of times back in the day, when you considered him a partner, an important person in your life. This body is just the vessel that is familiar, the man you knew is gone for a long time now. You aren't hurt anymore, you passed that months ago, but you see on his face he's not done with whatever he harboured from your shared past.

"Yeah, sorry I forgot." Fucking piece of shit.

"So what now Graves? You are hurt 'cuz the blast did not kill you at the end, and you have to live looking like fucking Quasimodo? What are you gonna do about it, huh?"

You are fed up. Fuming. What's his point? Revenge? Maybe, he was never the vengeance kind of guy. Soldier's aren't like that. But he's not a soldier anymore, is he?

"When I stepped on your front porch, I knew I'll find someone inside. Someone who isn't Riley. Fuck, i was prepared for any other 141 member despite i deemed Riley way smarter than that. But shit, finding you snuggled up in his bed." He smiles with venom, enjoying and hating his words at the same time. "When did that happen Darling?"

"Urghhhh. Holy shit Graves, that's what you really care about?" You bury your face in your hands, not feeling the need to watch his every move. He is still cocky and arrogant. You giggle with a wince when you graze a deep cut on your jawline. "Shit, are you jealous?"

His face breaks into a grimace. He stands up from his spot, after hours of not moving from the chair in front of you, talking your ear off with threats and pointless words. He stops in front of you, so close it sends a chill down on your back. His breaths fans over your ear when bends down next to your face. "Don't worry, he seen everything that happened to you." He suddenly halts in his words, for a dramatic pause, or something else you don't know, but it's way more unnerving than anything he has done so far. "In fact, he's already here to save your ass. Let's find out how prepared he is."

No way. It does sound possible and completely impossible altogether. If Simon is here, he's here for you, bit he might not be prepared for a trap they lured him in. And he will be march through the door with Soap on his side, undoubtedly. And if they do, this asshole will have everything he wants in one place.

Graves backs away, eyeing you up and down, looking at his work proudly, eyes glinting with anticipation.What can you possibly do to help Ghost and stay alive while doing so?

"Oh I know that look. Don't think too much darling, your head will hurt. You can't do shit." You feel dizzy, head throbbing, pain raging inside your skull. You feel more and more disoriented. You lose focus for a moment, and that's enough to lose him from your sight. The next thing you know, you almost fall over with the chair, Graves's arms the only support you have, his body pressed harshly against you without shame, invading your senses with his presence. You hear his voice close, too close.

"Everything you feel now is just the start. Get yourself comfortable on this chair, memorize every tiny detail of this room, count the steps you hear outside of the door." He grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your scalp in an attempt to get your full attention on him in between you losing and regaining consciousness. "I'll wait for your precious lieutenant to make an appearance, so I can lead him to this very same chair your pretty ass is sitting on, show him the wood drenched with your blood before I serve your head on a golden plate."

He lets you fall back in place, only your lucky landing of your legs keeping you upright on the chair. Your body is exhausted, battling with the pain and adrenaline. You are going to pass out at some point, and you are oh so fucked if you do.

"When he arrives, he'll bring your precious team, right to my front door. Every one you is going to die here. You'll be the first one."

"What do you think will happen if you kill me Philip? Hm?" He stops midway to the door, his back stiff, muscles twitching underneath the vest. The burn scars apparent on the back of his neck, probably snaking down to his torso. "Are you even capable to murder me Phil?"

He stays rooted, just standing there, waiting for you to go on. Or to be silent. His next move is depending on what you are about to say, how far you are willing to go. "I have known you for years. I worked, lived with you, i watched you take down enemies from distances that no one ever thought about doing. You trying to make me believe you couldn't do the same from a neighboring building with clear sight? Aimed at chest when you had a perfectly fine vision on my head? I bet you didn't relized i don't have a vest on, am i right? You can't feed me this bullshit Philip. I know you too much to believe it."

Maybe his men believes this tale, hell he might forced this truth on himself too, but you are no fool. And his quick steps out of the room proves you hit the nail on the head.

Taglist: @galagcica @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @afro-hispwriter @cabreezer0117 @5seastar @v-v-x-x @multitargaryen

#simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost imagine

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magicalpoison · 2 years

Text

Cravings (Vamp!Raph x F!Reader smut)

this a lemon/smut - No minors, All characters are 18+ including reader

Requested by: @ashleighclark98

Request: 5. “MINE.” 123. “Don’t hold back.” 132. “Argue all you want, we both know you belong to me.” 142. “Bite me.” 58. Turtle bedroom 151. “Do you know how a turtle takes his mate?” 89. Mating season 112. Biting/marking 96. Making out and Turning into a vampire

Pairing: Vampire Raphael (Bayverse) x Female Reader

TW: Smut/lemon, Swearing, Mentions of blood, possible - likely grammar errors

A/N: 6 pages and almost 4000 words later here you go! Now this is actually my first smut so open to critics and opinions.

(Y/n) had noticed a few weeks ago Raph had been avoiding her like the plague, not only him but all the turtles were. When she questioned April on the situation all she could say was they were giving her the same treatment, Casey too. (Y/n) was now even more curious and determined to know why all the three human friends were being avoided, while April and Casey were more than willing to let the boys have their time away, she was not. Especially when she was dating a certain red clad brute, so being ghosted was not about to slide with her. In her determination she headed straight to the lair to get to the bottom of it all. Reaching the turtle’s hideout she was met with Mikey rewatching ‘Lost’, the orange wearing turtle enraptured by the show at first before finally noticing the human female standing at the entrance. It was then when he turned to her that (Y/n) noticed something strange about the happy turtle. Those usual bright blue eyes that had a habit of lighting up at first of any pretty girl instead darkened, the blue hue faded into deep crimson, like the river running with blood. It was honestly terrifying and left (Y/n) standing there in a stunned silence. It was Mikey who spoke first, really yelling for his older brother Raphael before jumping up from where he sat on the floor.

“What now?! God you can’t seriously be hungry again-” Raph hollered, complaining about the youngest turtle's appetite as he left his room only to fall silent at the sight of the pretty (h/c). She looked over at him, meeting his eyes, pulling a smile from her at first before she remembered exactly why she was there. Recalling the weeks of avoidance that cute smile quickly fell into a scowl as she headed his way. (Y/n) stormed over to her hotshot boyfriend ready to ring him a new one for the no contact when he was apparently fine and so was the rest of them, but just as she got within arms length Raph snapped out of his daze, taking her wrist and pulling her into his room. Kicking the door closed he pushed her against the closest wall. “Why are you here?!” He questioned, obviously angered by her sudden appearance, only adding fuel to her own anger at the abrupt abandonment on his part. “Where have you been Sir?! I am here because you have been a ghost in the wind!” She snapped back, crossing her arms over her chest as she stayed leaning against the wall of his bedroom. “For a good reason!” He retorted louder than his last, “What reason?!” She fired back even louder than him, causing the ninja to groan.

The red clad brute glared down at the human woman who he towered over, (Y/n) returning it for a moment before she watched as his eyes seemed to do the same as Mikey’s. His green eyes held something darker, something savage as the green was overtaken by a dark clouded red. (Y/n) made an audible gasp at the change that Raph took as a bad sign, quickly stepping back and turning away from her. The brute closed his eyes as he tried to contain himself, but even with his back to her he could hear the pounding of her heart and her soft breathing. “Don was messing with some of the damn ooze and there was just a screw up,” He grunted out running a hand over his eyes trying to shake the tension he was feeling, but he could not especially when he could feel her eyes piercing him through the armor of his shell. Nothing could break his shell except her gaze apparently, it sent a shiver down his spine and stirred his insides in the worst-best of ways. While Raph explained what little he did, (Y/n) composed herself not meaning to make him feel ashamed or insecure, though she thought that was impossible to begin with. (Y/n) slowly reached out running a hand along the rough bone like shell of his, ridged and chipped in some parts. “Raph… what happened?” She lowered her own voice from the yelling they were doing just moments ago, hoping he would realize she was no longer angry, merely confused, wanting an answer.

Instead she got something else entirely as the touch began pushing the turtle's limits, her hand ran along his forearm as she stood beside him, her touch just as soft and concerned as her voice. Raphael, despite his better judgment, which he had little of, opened his eyes to look over at her. It was that mistake that led them to their compromising position. That face, damn that cute ass face. Was all he could think when he looked at her, she was all big eyed and concerned. Her heart still pounding like a drum in his ears, her chest heaving along with it. His throat tightened as his hunger became apparent to him, but he was not sure which hunger it was. The newfound taste for blood or the need to claim what was his, either way he knew which he was going to satisfy first. (Y/n) held still as a statue as her green shelled lover watched her, exclaimed her with his eyes, she dared not to move an inch. Her heart speeding up, sounding more like a storm trapped in her rib cage. Raph's eyes lit up as if he finally decided something, seeing this (Y/n) finally took a chance to try and speak up, regardless of what she was going to say Raph dare not give her the space or air to speak.

Rough calloused hands grasped either side of her neck and face before the air she dared exhaled was captured between her and Raphael. His lips meeting hers, but he wasted no time using her parted lips to lay claim to what was his. His tongue forced its way in and yet (Y/n) remained a willing victim of this intrusion. Her knees shook beneath her daring to give way and let her collapse, instead she stumbled back on her back finding the cold concret once more. Her hands reached back to try to soften her impact before reaching for his hands. Raphael threw out all those training lessons on control and will power, for this need that twisted his insides and made him feel so empty was begging for her to fill it. Or to be the one to fill her. His mind clouded, not real sense in his actions, as she reached for his hands he instead forced both above her. Crossing her wrist and holding them firmly between his fingers against the wall, making her escape likely impossible. (Y/n) whined against his lips finding her chest heaving and begging for the air he took from her, only then did the red clad brute pull away. Retreating his tongue back into his own mouth and giving her the time to catch her breath and his own, still he remained only centimeters from her, their panting breath tangling in the air between them as they met eyes again.

Wordless silence was not wordless at all as Raphael was busy studying the woman before him looking for a hint of hesitation or discomfort, (Y/n) was not prepared for such a kiss, but was nevertheless hungry for more. Her lips pulled into a smile as her answer, all that was needed on Raph’s part. He initiated a full blown attack on her skin, his lips trailing, tracing the curve of her neck leaving a series of kisses and nips, occasionally taking to leaving a mark that would quickly become a bruise in a few hours. His hand released hers from his vice grip, instead returning his hand to the opposite side of her neck where he was not currently assaulting with his lips. Using his thumb to her head to turn the other way allowing him entire access. (Y/n) was already lost in his actions, pleased hums and sweet exhales indicators for her obvious enjoyment. On top of the stirring of her insides, the growing heat and speeding of her heart as his actions aroused her making her want more.

She muttered his name so sweetly in a pleasing purr and yet the only word Raph could muster before his assault and roaming hand across her clothed body was a booming and deep, “Mine~,” He repeated it several more times in her ear, some sounding more like demanding growls than anything else. It was effective nevertheless as (Y/n) felt herself melt in the mutant’s arms, still she was not one to give in so easily despite how her body was so ready to call it quits and let the man have her. She let her hands mindlessly roam his plastron before giving him a rather forceful shove back, only managing to get the redd clad turtle off her by catching him by surprise. Raph stumbled back a moment catching himself before his eyes shot to her confused and concerned. (Y/n) huffed playfully, unable to hide her smirk as she spoke, “What makes you think you can have me after weeks avoiding me?” She tried to sound mad, but they both knew she wasn’t. She also knew that he too was enjoying this short time of intimacy, as the outline of his member was clear in those black basketball shorts. Raphael chuckled, lowering his head a bit as he smiled, unintentionally flashing the new addition of fangs in his mouth. (Y/n) knew they definitely weren't there before and yet it only made her flush at the thought of how more attractive it made him and how it would feel if he bit her. “Please~ Argue all you want baby doll,” He purred, approaching her again in a slow taunting saunter. Placing a hand against the wall beside her head he leaned down closer to her once more, (Y/n) instinctively tried to shrink back but there was no going anywhere against the concrete. “We both know you belong to me~” He growled with that signature cocky smirk that always got (Y/n)’s mind swimming in love.

No time to think or swim in that handsome smile as Raph picked up the woman as if she weighed not an ounce and tossed her onto the plus red and black comforter that resided on his bed. Raphael was all over her in a moment's notice, not giving the woman time to even collect her thoughts. Lost in a deep kiss as he practically tore and ripped at her clothes, the flimsy fabrics did little to fight against him. Each ripping noise, each moment her newly exposed body was met with the cold chill of the air sent a shock wave through (Y/n), her body quivering beneath her lover. Her arousal became clear to even her as a calloused hand ran his fingers along the damp fabric of her panties. Raphael needed to pull out of the kiss as he chuckled against her lips earning a slap on the arm and whine from the pretty babe beneath him. Sitting up back against his heels he smirked at the pretty sight before him. (Y/n) on the other hand felt so exposed, so small under the large turtle's gaze. Such a piercing red gaze making her squirm clasping her knees closed to attempt to hide from him. Pointless as Raphael laughed reaching out to run a hand from her thigh up to her knees he paused.

“Do you know how a turtle takes his mate?” He purred, the question never meant to be answered as he wrapped his larger hands around her ankles flipping her around onto her stomach.

His calloused hand gripped her hips squeezing the soft flesh of her body as he guided her body back, knees beneath her, ass in the air as her chest and face remained pressed into the plush bed beneath them.His body leaned over hers, effectively engulfing her as that hard plastron pressed her further into the sheets. Raphael moved and tossed her about at such a speed that she had no time to even consider his words, her mind lost in a haze of her own growing desires whilst pushing herself back against him in return. Those polyester shorts did very little to conceal his hardened member as she pressed her ass firmly against it, instinct led him to grind his hips down into hers, enticing a small noise from (Y/n) beneath him. (Y/n) was already soaked through the thin cotton fabric of her underwear, so little touching and yet her body was craving for it all, simultaneously Raphael felt the gnawing of his cravings gathering the better of him. Jaw clenched as he bowed his head down to her ear, breathing hot and shaky against the shell of it. His breathing was enough for her to feel her throat tighten as her own followed his pace, hearts pounding in unison with such little friction, little touch, but both plainly awaiting silently begging for more. (Y/n) must have lost control of her tongue and thoughts as she spoke without hesitation, reaching back her fingers gliding across the cheek of the mutant turtle.

“Don’t hold back on me~,” She purred, her words enough for the rebel ninja to alas give in to his cravings and hers.

Messing with the white band around his shorts he was quick to push away down his shorts releasing his hardened cock from the polyester fabric. Wrapping his hand around it he gave himself a few prepping strokes, his free hand running along those damp panties that hid him from his goal. His light touch earned a sweet whine from (Y/n) as she propped herself up in a doggy style position. The fluttering and tightening in her stomach as she looked back taking in the image of Raph sitting there stroking himself behind her while he pushed her panties aside. Her face flushing at such an erotic sight, eyes trailing from his steady moving hand up the green bicep before her eyes met the hungry eyes scanning her in return. He chuckled darkly, slipping his single larger digit into her heat core pulling a gasp from her lips. All this teasing and drawn out touches finally her empty heat was no longer quivering against nothing. Her sex pratically sucking his finger in deeper, Raphael couldn’t hide his smug smirk at how needy her cunt already was, but alas he pulled out his finger already slick and coated by her. He didn’t leave her empty for long, leaning down back to her ear he nipped at the back of it lightly as his hand stroking his cock guided it to her entrance. Slowly pushing into her, letting (Y/n) take it slowly and adjust the large girth of the mutant. In unison as Raphael was now fully buried in her the two let out their own shaky breath as if the tension washed away within seconds of entering her.

This blissful intimate moment did not last as now with him being inside her did the mutant truly go feral on her. Burying his face into the nape of her neck taking a deep breath of her scent, his hips pulling back only to snap back thrusting her in with a level of unseen force from the turtle before. The impact caused (Y/n) body to lurch forward, her upper body falling onto her elbows as her head fell down with a moan. Feeling his smirk against the skin of her neck she knew he enjoyed such a reaction out of her, leading him to continue with such deep thrusts, his hips rocking her body and the bed in an aggressive but steady pace. Raphael hands made work holding onto her body, one firmly gripped at her hip keeping her in place while holding her body up just the same. The other trailing her body under him, yanking down her bra, fondling her breasts, kneading the tender area and lightly pinching her perked nipple between his fingers. Littering her neck with soft kisses turned viscous bites, sucking on the flesh to leave his mark across her skin. Between each new mark Raphael found himself growling and swearing with each thrust, the turtle the more vocal of his brothers but quieter as he enjoyed hearing his partner more. Hearing (Y/n) beneath him mewl and cry out in her own swimming bliss and arousal was just adding fuel to his fire. Determined to make her cry more, to say his name and beg for his cock again.

“Bite me,” She breathed out between moans as she found herself earning for something harder, those fangs she saw only a glimpse of flashing through her mind.

Even unaware of the full extent her command gave she wanted it nevertheless, she was unafraid to handle a bit of pain among the bliss. Raphael was already dizzy with his lust and arousal as they fucked so he batted not an eye at the request, his daze leading to him to obey without warming. His large hand that enveloped her breasts moved up along her collar to her neck pushing her head up forcing her to stare at the plain concrete wall above the bed. His tongue skimmed along her neck which flowered with bruises and marks, opening his mouth his fangs grazed her skin that pulsed with her pounding heart. (Y/n) gasped, closing her eyes tightly preparing herself for a twinge of pain, but Raph was going to ensure she felt nothing but ecstasy. His hand that gripped her hips so tightly left her bruising skin to instead move its way along between her legs. Kissing her neck sweetly as his hand found the sensitive bundle of nerves, still thrusting his hips against her backside, deep and hard he let his fingers roll over the nerves of her clitoris. The abrupt touch pushed a pleading sob from his pretty baby doll. He continued his treatment on that sensitive area letting her melt away in the heavenly euphoria alongside the bucking of his hips into hers. The mixing sounds of slapping skin, the enticing cries leaving her lips and his own struggle gasp for air.

A shock wave of ecstasy was further by the fleeting twinge of pain and burning sensation coursing through her veins like her body was set on fire from the inside. Raphael had taken her moment of euphoria as his chance to sink those fangs into her skin with such ease, his grip on her neck tightened, holding her firmly still as he pulled them both up onto their knees. The turtle was unaware just how parched he was or how dry his throat became until the warm crimson was already easing both of those. The strangely sweet but metallic taste warming his body while those pretty noises she made stirred him to his core. He pulled back from her neck with a gratifying gasp. Those piercing red eyes dying down, muted until they returned to their normal green hue, one of his hungers was satisfied. The other would not be until they both finished, leading him to speed up the snapping of his hips, him nearly pulling out of her heated sex entirely but bucking up right back into her. (Y/n) in this new sitting position was able to free her hands from the tangled sheets which she held onto for stability. Instead one held tightly to his hand that stayed caressing her neck, the other reaching back to run her shaking hand across the rough textured skin of the bruteish turtle.

“Fuck, you taste so good~” Those were the first words spoken in what felt like ages pulling (Y/n) from her daze. She finally felt the intense bubbling feeling in her abdomen as she was approaching her end now that she was free from her trance. Hearing all the noises that came from their lewd love making, his heaving chest and plastron pressing against her back, and yet the softest touch of his hand that ran along her throat. All of it was overwhelming and sheer bliss as she choked out his name in a pleading whisper. “Raph I..” Her sentence never found its end as the turtle hushed her, turning her head to side allowing him the chance to press a needy kiss to her lips. A repeat of the kiss that started it all he forced his way into her mouth, the taste of her own blood lingering on his tongue and yet she cared not. Whining into the kiss as he sped up his fingers which played with her clit, pinching and rolling the bundle of nerves lightly. Raphael felt his member twitch inside her slick walls as they fluttered against him, pulling him to his end. The kiss breaking as the building of heat and tension bursted inside her first, her orgasm rushing over her like a wave. (Y/n) biting his lip as she pulled back, accidently drawing blood to the surface to mix with the already metallic taste in both their mouths.

Raphael smirked watching her as they locked eyes, riding out her high and soon enough he was right behind her. Him pushing her flushed against him and he gave a few final hard thrusts into her quivering core. His seed coating her walls and his cock as he continued her pull in and out of her, slowing his pace and letting it spill from her, gliding down her thighs and onto the sheets below. Raph stayed deep inside of (Y/n) as he came to a stop, panting before he pressed a gratified sweet kiss to her lips, letting her fall back against him, strong enough to hold her weight for her. Her body felt heavy, mind faint and clouded as her heart continued to race in her chest. The burning sensation throughout her body never dissipating instead growing, (Y/n) would have thought something was wrong but her mind was far too lost to even consider anything. Raph pulled back from the kiss and looked at the cute exhausted girlfriend of his with a smile, she returned it with half lidded eyes before they fluttered close to heavy to remain open. The red clad brute chuckled pulling out of her, carefully laying her down on the bed, getting up from the bed he fixed himself before cleaning her up as well.

“Sorry gorgeous,” Raphael said, admitting that his lack of communication was not the best way to handle it all, though he got no answer as her breath slowed falling silent. The pounding of her heart that Raphael heard began to slow, stopping for a brief moment. Raphael was frozen leaning over the side of the bed down at her, panic settling into his chest as he called out her name softly. “(Y/n)? Babe?” He gently shook her, his mind flooding with the worst but eased as she spoke. “Nooo, let me sleep,” She whined, making the turtle scoff at her little attitude. (Y/n) opened her eyes looking to the bedside at Raph, her boyfriend smiling at her at first. Slowly his features twisted from a man clearly in love to confused and concerned, Raphael watching as those pretty (e/c) that he knew like the back of his hand instead faded away to a deep crimson red. The turtle unable to say a damn except,

“Oh fucking hell-”

#tmnt x you #x reader #tmnt #tmnt bayverse #raphael tmnt #raphael x reader #tmnt smut #tmnt lemon #raph x reader #tmnt x reader

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sillyrabbit81 · 2 years

Text

The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood Part 3

Series Summary: Lori "Babycakes" Tate swore she would never date a biker but when her life is in danger, she is put under the protection of a small club known as The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood. She suddenly finds herself attracted to not one, but five bikers.

A reverse harem, biker AU.

Part Three Summary: Lori meets the Brothers.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC, Walter Marshall x OFC, Mike x OFC, Geralt x OFC, August Walker x OFC

Word Count: Approx. 4 k

Warnings:

Series Warnings:

Reverse harem, age gap (OFC 23, ages range from 23 to mid 40s), oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, anal sex, group sex, masturbation, praise kink, mentions of body fluids, drug use, recreational drinking, sex work, criminal activities, mention of death, violence, use of weapons, mentions of war, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, probably a lot more that I will add as they come up.

Part Three Warnings:

Masturbation, caught in the act, flirting, smutty thoughts, embarrassment, angst, fluff.

Authors Note: Thanks to @henryobsessed for beta reading.

I hope you enjoy it!

Divider made by me. Edited by me, there will be errors.

Masterlist

Parts Masterlist

Part Two Part Four

Lori

We had only been on the highway for a few minutes when I heard the other bikes. They drew up in formation and briefly took up all four lanes. Each rider was wearing their colours and full-face helmets so I couldn’t get a read on any of them, other than they all looked to be close to Sy’s size and build. Well, except one, who seemed a little slimmer, but was at least as tall as the others.

One of the riders signalled something to Syverson who inclined his head in response. Then two of the bikes pulled ahead while two others fell behind and they stayed that way for the rest of the journey.

The problem with being a pillion on a motorcycle, especially on a long stretch of highway, was that you didn’t have much to do except think.

It wasn’t something I normally had a problem with, I was fairly comfortable with my own company for the most part, but I had a lot on my mind and not a lot of it was pleasant.

There was one incessant thought, one that wouldn’t leave me alone despite how often I tried to ignore it. It was inescapable considering my arms were currently wrapped around the subject of those thoughts.

Syverson. He was a complication in my life that I didn't need right now.

The first problem was that he was attracted to me.

I shouldn’t be surprised really. Not because I thought of myself as remarkably good looking, but because he’s a biker and I’d heard the phrase “any hole is a goal” uttered too many times by guys like him to take his attraction as anything more than a passing interest.

When I realised he was checking me out, my first thought was that I should take advantage of it because if I got him on my side it might make dealing with him and the rest of the Brothers easier. So I played up the innocent girl act by biting my lip and looking wide-eyed. But if I'm honest with myself, it had only been partly an act.

The truth was I found Sy to be ridiculously hot.

And funny.

And honest.

And kind.

And sweet Jesus, when he swept his thumb over my lips I almost moaned.

Which was my second problem. I was attracted to him too.

Sy might appear a little different to most of the bikers I knew, but in the end, he was in the life and that meant he was not a viable option as a romantic partner. I’d seen too much heartache and too many failed relationships to go down that road.

I loved my mother, but I didn’t want her life. A life walking around a clubhouse wearing a patch that read “Property of ….” so other assholes don’t try to touch you, always being worried about his fidelity and the social stigma that comes from being associated. Not to mention the constant stress of knowing your partner could end up in jail or dead.

Still, there was no harm in flirting with him, right? Who knows how long I was going to be stuck with them, so what was the harm in having a bit of fun? I’m sure he’d be up for it. I've yet to meet a biker who wasn't keen for a bit of no strings attached sex.

No, not a good idea. Not with Sy anyway. I liked him too much already. He had made me laugh for God’s sake. After all the shit I’d been through, it only took one perfectly imperfect wink for me to melt. If he'd tried to pick me up in a bar and he wasn't in the life, there's no doubt in my mind I’d go home with him.

No. Hooking up with Sy would be too risky. The last thing I wanted was to catch feelings.

I concentrated on ignoring how hard his body was, how good he smelled, how blue his eyes were, and how cute his dimples were when he smiled.

Fuck. Maybe it was already too late.

After a couple of hours of fixating on Sy and arguing with myself, I finally found something that took my mind off it.

I was freezing.

The icy wind of the Arizona desert cut right through my jeans. My knees were starting to ache and my leg muscles cramped.

I huddled closer to Sy, leaning my head against his shoulder to use his huge form as a windbreak. It worked, mostly, but my hands were unprotected, my gloves were no longer enough to keep my fingers from growing numb. I started making fists, trying to keep the blood pumping, hoping it would warm me up.

I felt Sy take my hands, one at a time, and slip each into his unzipped pockets in the front of his jacket. Instantly they felt warmer, and once again I was surprised by his kind gesture.

I tightened my arms around him, hoping he’d realise I was trying to thank him. He seemed to understand and gave my knee a gentle pat. He left it there for a few moments, and I could feel the warmth of him heating my cold knee through his glove.

Ever so slowly, he moved his hand down my calf and rubbed it gently, as if he were massaging heat back into my cramping muscles, before he worked his way up again. I held my breath as he patted my thigh and I squeezed him tight again, this time tightening my thighs as well.

I suddenly didn’t feel quite as cold.

I was not going to fall for him, I was not going to let his tender gestures fool me. I was not going to be seduced by a few moments of sweetness and a nice smile and a strong body and amused eyes so clear and blue they were like the sky on a cloudless day.

No way. Not worth it.

As soon as the cold ebbed away, a sudden wave of weariness hit me and I felt tired. Dead tired.

The rumbling sound of the v-twin between my legs, its gentle vibration at this speed, and the smoothness of the road became a soothing lullaby, and I found myself dozing, suspended in the twilight between being awake and asleep. It made the final hours fly by and it wasn’t until we turned off the highway that I was able to stay awake.

By the time Sy and the other riders pulled into a motel it was very late, well after midnight, and I felt a little sorry for the other guests. Not many people can sleep through the sound of one set of aftermarket pipes, let alone five.

When Sy killed the engine, I groaned as a muscle in the bottom of my foot tightened. It was gonna take a minute for me to get off the damn bike and I was a little embarrassed as the others were already lifting their long legs over their rides and Sy was waiting patiently for me to dismount. The guy who had signalled Sy on the highway headed towards hotel reception immediately, not even taking the time to remove his helmet.

I took a deep breath and willed myself to clamber ungracefully off the bike. My legs protested, but I was able to clear the bike before they gave out and I stumbled into a firm body that caught me by the shoulders before I ate pavement.

“Ooft! Easy sweetheart.”

I looked up at a man with a beard similar to Sy’s, but his hair fell around his face in thick curls, almost like a cherub from an old painting. His blue eyes were serious and a little stern, even as a smile split his face and his voice was unexpectedly warm. My breath caught in my throat, he was gorgeous.

“Has Syverson already worn you out?” he asked in a gentle voice with a soft and polite English accent.

His hands held my upper arms, straightening me until I was standing again. My legs still felt like jelly, and not just because of exhaustion. I was right when I thought the other riders were as big as Sy, this guy was at least as burly. But unlike Syverson this guy had the appearance of a cranky grizzly, having little of Sy’s playfulness despite his smile.

“Ease up, Marshall,” Sy said. I looked at him gratefully and one side of his mouth turned up in a smile in return.

“She’s fine,” Marshall said, and I turned back to him.

He was staring at me, his head tilted to the side showing off a large black and grey rose tattoo on his neck and a small gage in his ear. He looked like he was studying me, and from the wolfish grin on his face, he seemed to like what he saw. My heart started to race, thundering so loud I thought there was no way he couldn’t hear it.

“Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

I nodded slowly and Marshall tentatively let me go, keeping his hands close as if he thought I would fall again. Once he was satisfied I could stand on my own accord, he loosened the straps of my helmet and gently took it off before smoothing my tousled hair. He tucked the helmet under his arm while he helped me take my gloves off and shoved them into the helmet.

Two more bikers flanked Marshall. Both were unbelievably appealing too. One of them drew my attention immediately because of his unusual and striking appearance. He had silvery-white hair pulled back into a braid which isn’t unusual in itself but his face wasn’t that of an old man; he looked to be in his late 30s. The other was younger, probably my age, no way was he over 25. He appeared to have a youthful enthusiasm that I hadn’t seen in the others.

I stared at all four of them with my mouth no doubt agape. These weren’t bikers, these were models, each one more attractive than the last.

“I’m Mike,” the younger one introduced himself, grinning broadly.

He was cute and cheerful, his blue eyes seemed to sparkle as if he knew something you didn’t. He had a barbell piercing through his eyebrow and a small stud in one of his ears. There was a glimpse of a tattoo that poked above his jacket and up his neck, but I couldn’t make out what it was.

I instantly liked him and returned his affable smile. In a way, he reminded me of my brother before the drugs and the club sucked the life out of his eyes. I stuck my hand out to give him a shake, but before I could introduce myself, he threw his arms wide and wrapped them around my waist. He squeezed with a groan and lifted my feet off the ground. I yelped but started to giggle; I was not expecting this level of flirtation within seconds of meeting him. I liked it though, his flirtations came across as playful and fun rather than sleazy.

“Mike,” Sy barked.

“Fuck, alright.” Mike put me down but not before he whispered in my ear, “He never lets me have any fun.”

Mike planted a quick kiss on my cheek and let me go. Marshall must have seen because he smacked the back of Mike’s head.

“Fucking creep,” Marshall reprimanded.

I was worried that it would go further than that, but Mike just chuckled and rubbed the back of his head like it was something he was used to.

Sy stood beside me and laid a heavy arm lightly around my shoulders, directing my attention to the other biker.

“This old man is Geralt,” he said, smirking.

Geralt gave Sy a weary look from beneath lowered brows before he offered me his hand with a half-smile. I took it and I gasped as I looked at his eyes, I had never seen such bright amber eyes in real life before. They were beautiful and appeared to shine even in the darkness of the car park. I opened my mouth to tell him my name when I heard another voice behind me.

“Syverson.” A set of keys were thrown at Sy, which Sy caught easily in one hand. “Take the client to her room, you take the first watch.”

I turned to the guy, he wasn’t looking at me, his eyes were on Marshall, throwing him another set of keys.

“Marshall, you’re with Mike, second, third shift. Geralt, you’re with me, fourth, I’m fifth. Any questions?”

I felt Sy stiffen, seeming to bristle at the orders. This last Brother was obviously in charge and when he finally looked in my direction, I could see why.

He took my breath away. He was just as attractive as the others but he had a next level aura of danger that the others couldn’t compete with. He shouldn’t be so good looking; by all rights his Tom Selleck moustache should look ridiculous, but it somehow didn’t.

“Walker,” he said simply.

“Lori,” I managed to mumble. There was something about Walker that simultaneously made me feel hot and cold. He wasn’t tattooed or pierced the way the others were, but he was far more intimidating than the rest of the Brothers.

He smirked and raised his eyebrows as he looked me up and down.

“She’s pretty,” he said, while still appraising me, and obviously not addressing me, “but I don’t get what all the fuss is about.”

Heat rose to my cheeks as anger and embarrassment swirled within me. I was tired, sore, and been through hell in the two weeks since my parents had been killed; the last thing I wanted to do was get into an argument in a car park. But I knew if I was going to get any respect from this guy I couldn’t let his rudeness slide. I knew guys like Walker and I couldn’t let him get away with shit like that or he’ll think he can walk all over me.

I was also too exhausted to fight, too tense, so I snatched the keys and my bag out of Sy’s hands and made my way to the room.

“Jesus, Walker,” Sy said behind me. “Do ya always have to be such an asshole?”

If Walker replied, I didn’t hear it.

I opened my room and slammed the door closed, locking it behind me. I went straight for the bathroom, dropping my pack carelessly on the bed and stripping off my clothes as I went.

The room was basic but clean and well maintained, however the bathroom left a lot to be desired. I took one look at the showerhead and knew it wouldn’t be the best shower of my life.

When I turned the water on, the pressure was so hard I had to cover my nipples before I could stand to be under the spray. But the water was blessedly hot and was exactly what I needed to soothe away the aches and pains of the ride.

I leaned my forehead against the tiles and took advantage of the harsh spray, letting the water massage my back. It felt good, real good, and as my thoughts started to drift, a familiar need began deep in my core as my body cried out for my nearly nightly ritual before I slept.

My hand moved slowly over my breasts, nipples hardening under my fingers, I turned around, the water pressure no longer hurt, the stinging pain only served to heighten my arousal. I pressed my back against the cool tiles as my hand drifted lower, the competing temperatures made my skin feel electrified, sensitive to every touch. My fingers danced slowly over my belly, getting lower, and lower until they slid over the small patch of hair on my mound. I shivered as the pads of my fingers ghosted over my clit, seeking the warmth and slick of my throbbing heat.

A moan escaped my throat as I slid two fingers inside me, curling them deeply, feeling for that smooth spongy spot. It was hard to reach at this angle, so I widened my legs, curled my spine and groaned as I found it.

I closed my eyes, letting my thoughts wander, thinking for a moment of Jake, my sometimes fuck buddy, but quickly my thoughts shifted, and it was no longer his face I saw in my mind.

Images of Sy came quickly, the way he felt as I held him while we rode. How he had caressed my leg sent shivers up my spine as I imagined him touching me like that again, skin against skin.

But that wasn’t all, I thought of all of them, Marshall, Mike, Geralt, wondered how each of them would feel. Would their hands be rough on my skin? Would their lips be soft on mine? Would they grunt and groan? Would they whisper words of praise in my ear? Were they dominant, or primal, or tender, or giving, or maybe all of it at once? I know I shouldn’t let these men invade my fantasies, but God, I couldn’t stop.

Then I thought of Walker with that smirk, that teasing grin that made me want to both slap him and drop to my knees.

“Fuck,” I mumbled as my thighs started to tremble.

“Fuck!” cried a louder, deeper voice.

I froze. I became a deer in headlights as I looked towards the door and saw a figure distorted by the thin layer of condensation that clung to the glass of the shower.

Snapping into action, I swiped an arm across the glass catching a fleeting glimpse of a wide-eyed Sy as he slammed the bathroom door shut.

I turned the water off and grabbed a towel, my breath coming in heaves, my guts churning as my face burned with embarrassment.

Okay. Think about this clearly. He couldn’t have actually seen anything, the glass was too fogged up.

He had heard though, there was no doubt about that.

Oh God.

I had been thinking about him, and the others too. I had left the bathroom door open and everything, he’s going to think that I did that on purpose. But I didn’t, I had locked the door to the room and…

Asshole!

Fury overtook my shame and I stormed out of the bathroom.

“You pervert! I locked the door.”

Sy was standing by the window, peeking through the curtains. His jacket was off, slung over the back of a chair and a silver handled gun was strapped to his thigh. He turned slowly, taking in my appearance and sucked on his bottom lip as he took a few steps towards me.

“It’s a hotel, Babycakes. They have spare keys.”

“My name is Lori and I would have thought a locked door meant I wanted privacy.”

Shrugging, he grinned. “You ain’t gonna get much privacy until we get to the Clubhouse.”

“What? You’re staying in here?” My voice was a little shrill but Sy nodded and I shook my head. “No. I thought you’d wait outside the door. I don’t want to be sleeping here with… men I don’t know.”

I almost said Walker but stopped myself. Oddly he was the only one I didn’t feel like I could trust.

“You scared of us, baby?” Sy asked in a low voice.

The back of his fingers skimmed over my still damp shoulder and down my arm. For a moment I couldn’t breathe, his touch was eerily similar to what I had just been fantasising about, gentle yet deliberate, hot and thrilling.

“Why?” My voice was huskier than I hoped it would be. “Does that turn you on? Is that the kind of sick shit your club is into?”

“Not at all,” Sy replied steadily, smirking, “I like my women willin’.” He cupped a hand under my jaw, lifting my chin higher. “Did ya finish the job in there?”

My eyes widened in shock, I didn’t think he would be so bold as to come right out and say what he saw. He chuckled as his hand slid down my neck, resting on the bare skin of my chest.

“I could give ya a hand if ya want,” Sy said, his voice seemed lower if that was possible, deeper, rougher, deliberately seductive, “Might feel good.”

“Is that a standard service you offer as part of your contract or…?”

I tried to sound disinterested, but my voice betrayed me. I was breathless, my body was a hot, throbbing mess. Sy licked his lips and my eyes were drawn to them. They looked so plush and inviting, and the whiskers surrounding his mouth seemed so soft.

“It’s an optional extra,” Sy shrugged and his fingers traced the edge of my towel, “But for you, I’ll throw it in for free, no charge.”

“No thanks.”

It’s what I said but it’s not what I meant. I said no out of habit, having said no to men like him my entire life. It was a lie and an obvious one. My fingers were already sinking into his beard, and I could feel him clench his jaw beneath my touch and his nostrils flared. Taking half a step closer, I met his eyes. They were hooded, dark and still held a glimmer of amusement. His hand moved to the nape of my neck, the other snaked around my waist, resting on the small of my back.

“Then how ‘bout I eat ya pussy cause I want to?”

He pulled me closer, our bodies met and his fingers slid into my hair. I put a hand to the centre of his chest, I had every intention of pushing him away and he must have known because he held me tighter, pressing his hardness into my hip.

“’Cause I wanna hear ya make those noises again, but this time I want you to make ‘em because of me.”

My core fluttered, no it was more than that, every muscle in my body seemed to quiver with anticipation of his offer, and dear God did he have the confidence of a man that knew he could deliver.

“No thanks,” I managed to utter. Barely.

Sy’s grin didn’t waver as he inhaled deeply and let me go.

“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug and went back to his position by the window.

It took me a minute to get my bearings. I was completely dumbstruck, still overwhelmed by Sy even though he was now across the room.

I cleared my throat and swallowed hard. Fuck me, was I in trouble here.

Sy glanced at me over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow as the corner of his mouth twitched in a smirk.

“You’re really gonna stay here all night?” I asked.

“For a couple of hours, then one of the others will take over,” he said, his voice sounding a little more serious and matter of fact than it had moments ago.

I didn’t like the sound of that. All five of them coming and going in my room while I slept, me not knowing who I’d wake up to?

Despite Sy’s advance or maybe because of it, I felt like I could trust him and would rather he stayed with me than the others. Having to keep an eye on one horny biker would be easier than having to watch out for five.

I took my bag from the bed and dressed in the bathroom, with the door closed. Though I was beat, I blow dried my hair with the shitty hair dryer the hotel had attached to the wall before braiding it.

While I was brushing my teeth I looked at my pyjamas in the mirror, realising now why Sy had chuckled when he saw them. When I packed, I had no idea the Brothers would actually be in my room with me. The tank top was so thin you could see the dark pinkish skin around my nipples.

The thought made my body warm. Part of me liked the thought of them seeing me like this. But I knew it would be a mistake to go down that road. Nope, my pussy would be a barren wasteland for the foreseeable future.

Pointedly not looking at Sy, I went back into the room and grabbed my shirt from the floor, turning it the right way round and slipping it on over the top.

First thing I was going to do when I got to the clubhouse was buy new pyjamas.

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silverskye13 · 2 years

Text

Ren was yellow. If this were Third Life, if this were Last Life, Ren being on yellow would mean… Well, it wouldn't mean nothing, but it would be inconsequential. It would be a game. A traumatic game. A game he would be thrilled by, turn over in his head like a bad dream - or a very guilty good dream - for weeks after the event. He would think about how scary it all was, how scary he was, how scary his friends were, and then he would think about other things. He would live, he would die, he would lose, he would cope. He, eventually, wouldn't care all that much.

But this wasn't Last Life. This wasn't Third Life. This was Hermitcraft.

The trouble with being a yellow life on Hermitcraft, besides the fact that it shouldn't be possible, was that if Ren lost two more lives… he didn't know what would happen. After Third Life and Last Life, when Ren had lost his lives and succumbed to the dark, he had reawakened on Hermitcraft. Hermitcraft was his home. This was the place his soul returned to. He didn't know what would happen when his soul was no longer allowed to come back here. He didn't want to know. The yawning black of the void, normally ominous and dark and infinite but ultimately toothless, suddenly revealed itself to be jagged and razor sharp and ravenous.

Ren had been thinking a lot about death lately, and mortality. That sort of happened when those things suddenly had weight again. It was a fear that gripped. It wrapped squeezing hands around his insides and it refused to release until Ren forgot it existed, and it was very, very hard to forget it existed.

He wasn't coping with it great. No one else was either.

Doc wasn't stupid enough to think this was his fault. It wasn't Doc's fault Ren had summoned The Red King for a chat around the braai, fallen asleep, and been afflicted by whatever fell magic The Red King was beholden to. Doc was, however, conceited enough to believe he could've done something to stop it. Should have done something. As if he had a choice. As if The Red King were something that simple. That was the problem with Doc. He thought everything was a problem well within his capabilities to figure out, no matter how surreal or supernatural, or just downright unpredictable. It's probably why he and Grian were always at odds.

Ren knew he was trying his best, knew he just wanted to help, knew this was all Doc knew to do but it was wrong. Doc attacked the problem of The Red King like he attacked gods. The Red King wasn't a god. Gods were ideals. They were powerful in a way both physical and ephemeral. Powerful in a way that could be calculated, measured. It didn't matter that sometimes that measure was the distance between stars; it could be charted. They were people, things that existed, thought, breathed and created. They were attainable, and fallible, and in some ways pitifully human. They could be reached, plucked from the sky or the void, fought and killed. When they died, like starstuff, they rose again the same but altogether different, and sometimes with a healthy respect for the thing that killed them.

The Red King wasn't a god. He was a mirror. He was half of a perfect whole Ren was supposed to be, and as long as Ren was himself, The Red King would always be, except twisted and bigger and different, like a funhouse mirror. Meant to thrill. Meant to scare. Meant to parody the person staring inside with menace. Or at least, Ren thought so.

Ren also thought it was maddening watching Doc work, watching Doc poke and prod at the idea of The Red King like he was redstone coding, something that could be figured out through stubborn grit, trial and error, and the occasional curse at one of the many gods Doc had fought and killed. Doc meant well, but he'd sunk his teeth deep into something that Ren thought was unfixable and he worried if Doc stared too hard into the mirror searching for the way to fix Ren, someday his own reflection might flinch, and grin, and move on its own.

Did Doc have a hels? He'd never seemed interested, not until the idea of a hels was menacing someone he knew, and then he threw himself into fixing theirs, unafraid that the strain and the sleeplessness and the mistakes and the frustration might somehow summon his own. Or, and Ren dreaded this idea the most, he might make his own, whole cloth, from the mental anguish that came from trying to fix the unfixable in other people. Ren didn't know what terrifying thing a hels for Doc would be, but if he were anything like Helsknight and The Red King, he would be tailor made to snap him in half like dried timber, and Ren feared, desperately, in that same squeezing way he feared dying, that there might come a day where Doc was weary and miserable and broken and it was all Ren's fault.

We both desire above all else to protect our friends.

It stung, knowing The Red King was right. It meant he was probably right about all the other things too.

Ren spent a lot of time hiding from Doc. He couldn't bear to watch him. Couldn't face the consequences if he found out his running was making things worse. So he kept running. Sneaking away while Doc slept, avoided him when he woke, made excuses to leave when Doc offered to build together, gather materials, protect him. Anything but the one thing Ren wanted which was to be left alone to wallow.

Doc was smart. He knew what Ren was doing. He didn't call him out on it though. Probably he thought it was something he should've been able to stop too.

Welsknight, unlike Doc, was just dumb enough to think this was all his fault. Ren, on his worst days, was dumb enough to think he was right, too. As if Ren hadn't asked, unprompted and unnecessarily, if he had a hels. As if Welsknight wasn't just being a good friend when he gave an answer.

Wels, also unlike Doc, didn't stick around to try and keep Ren company. In fact, Ren thought Wels was better at avoiding him than Ren was at avoiding Doc, and he was trying really hard to avoid Doc. It was a big server though, and Wels was used to hiding. He was a wounded animal, stabbed through by his shadow, and he was good at finding places to slink away and lick his wounds. And they had gotten good at ignoring his death messages in chat.

Ren had never noticed that before. The amount of stuff everyone just collectively ignored. He'd never had a reason to notice. It was something like polite, something like selfish, and something like cruel. Hermitcraft was a bizarre place. Weird things happened here all the time. Even events like murder and possession were… well, not a dime a dozen. Maybe a dollar-fifty? They were cheapened by their regularity. But Wels didn't die to other hermits, or to zombies, or to overzealous rocket blasts. He died to himself. Over and over and over. It was a little different, in that the tag attached was always Helsknight. But that's what a hels was - yourself, but a little to the left. The worst parts. The ruthless parts.

Wels was killing himself, or else he was trying really hard to and failing. And no one intervened.

It was polite, in the same way it was polite not to talk about someone drinking every time they hung out with friends, or running to the bathroom after every shared meal. You don't just drag that stuff out in front of the whole server. You don't want to embarrass people. Even if they deserved it. Even if they needed help.

Wels probably wouldn't accept it anyway. People had offered before. This was his fight, and if he wanted to keep it that way, they should respect it. Except they weren't "respecting" Ren the same way, and Ren noticed. And he figured maybe everyone else was like him. Sometimes, when faced with something you had no idea what to do with, you just decided to do nothing with it for fear of making it worse. What was the point of trying to fix a cracked teapot with a hammer, if you already knew the hammer would smash it to pieces, unrecoverable?

Was Wels a teapot, though? Was he a hammer? Was he fixable? Ren sure hoped so, because if Wels could be fixed, so could he. But he couldn't fix what wouldn't sit still in front of him for more than two seconds, and it felt too morbid to haunt spawn for the inevitable death message.

Welsknight was killed while fighting Helsknight

Welsknight was fighting himself and losing. Welsknight was avoiding Ren. The server avoided him back, because what else were they supposed to do? This was all his fault after all. He wanted this. Probably.

Tango, and Impulse, and Xisuma and Keralis shoved totems of undying in his hands. All on different days, all wholly believing they were the first to think of that marvelous idea. Ren's pockets were heavy with the little golden totems. They cluttered his shulker boxes, sat on every free countertop and item frame and chest and barrel in his base. A totem of undying at every door and window and trash chute, like they could Ren-proof the world. He was sick of looking at them. Sick of being reminded what they meant. Sick of the color.

Fragile as the gold his name was dipped in.

Ren imagined cracking them open like fortune cookies just to see what was inside. Probably nothing. It would be too convenient if, once broken, they could gift him a life like little single-use pez dispensers.

"Sweet face please, don't worry about the log shop," Keralis had told him with a giggle. "You've taught me well! And we have no reason to keep you hanging out by all those explosions."

"I can still prime it, my dude." Ren had laughed with him, because Keralis's laugh was infectious, and he needed a reason to laugh. "I'll be perfectly safe on the walk. And a mooshroom island is really the safest place for me."

"But the nether, Ren!" Keralis argued. "You might die on the way over, and then I'd be sad. We all would. Please, we'll get this sorted out, but you've got to stay put."

Then Keralis had winked, "Don't worry though, I'll keep those totems coming. There's always more--"

"--where that came from!" Impulse beamed at him, dropping off five whole shulkers of the damn things, shoving aside the two shulkers Keralis had left. "Don't worry buddy, it's just a short AFK session at the raid farm. And really you'd be doing me a favor, I've got these things coming out my ears at this point."

Ren smiled, and wanted to say he did too, but that would be rude. Rude like pointing out that no one had offered these to Wels, that Ren knew of. Rude like mentioning Doc was looking at blueprints for making a raid farm himself, just in case. Just in case.

"That's really nice of you Tango," Ren hummed cordially at the red shulkers Tango piled by his front door. "But I feel bad just taking these, dude. Doesn't Scar need them?"

"Scar can respawn," Tango pointed out, and winced, like his words stung him just as bad leaving his lips as they stung Ren landing on his ears.

"Well, still, I know you're busy with Decked Out II plans and stuff. And, well, obviously my base plans are on hold for now." Obviously, because even if he wanted to work on them, who would let him? Why should he anyway, when the end was looming? It was a waste of time. "I don't mind to AFK for you, if you wa-"

"No!" Tango shouted it like Ren was falling off a cliff, or offering to. He grimaced again, "I mean-- it's not a perfect setup. The vex-- it's--"

It's too dangerous. Too dangerous to stand and do nothing but swing a sword. To dangerous to leave his house. Too dangerous.

"Right. Gotcha."

"I promise I'll get it figured out. Really." Xisuma insisted, like this was his fault, setting his boxes on top of Tango's and refusing to number them. It felt bad, being redundant. "It's just taking a bit longer-- The Red-- or-- can, can I call him RK? I know Doc doesn't want us to use his title, but I can't for the life of me pronounce that silly name."

Ren shrugged.

"So RK, he's done something with your code, obviously. And I-- we can fix it Ren, I promise. We can."

Xisuma said it like he'd rehearsed it. But it wasn't the kind of rehearsal one has where you stand up and try to convince an audience of a believable lie. It was the kind of tired, desaturated phrase that one says again and again in the mirror, praying one day it's true.

"Grian and I have been working nonstop," Xisuma reassured him, as if that's what he wanted - them working themselves to exhaustion to fix his problems. "And I've even gotten in touch with Etho a little. It's just a lot of world code to sort through, and a little magic, but we'll get it. Just be patient."

Xisuma dusted off his hands, and Ren feels like he’s dusting himself of him at the same time. I’ve done my part. Now you must wait.

Beef offers him food, mostly because it’s all he has to offer. He’s too busy with his maps to gather materials for someone else. Still rocking mix-matched armor because the grind is more important than getting properly kitted out. Everything of value he owns has been a gift, and he isn’t keen on relinquishing them. It would be rude. Besides, Ren wouldn’t want him putting himself out just to offer a little comfort. So Beef shows up on his doorstep, a plate wrapped in tinfoil in one hand and a shulker full of meals in the other.

“I know you like barbecue,” Beef tells him with a radiant smile, “so I made you my best. We’ve gotta do a grill-out sometime, man. It’ll be fun.”

Sometime. Sometime in the future when Ren is less breakable, and something as benign as a campfire is no longer a threat. Ren takes the food with a sick stomach. He never wants to see another barbecue again, not after the failed braai. Not after The Red King. He holds the wrapped plate in his hands the same way The Red King did, keeping his hands where Beef can see them so he knows they aren’t weapons, knowing full well he has no intentions of eating.

Beef leaves. Ren drops the plate in the trash. He’ll tell Beef later it tasted delicious. He’s too worried to prove himself right. He probably doesn’t deserve the care, anyway.

Cub and xB show up on his doorstep, surprised they picked the same time to appear. They probably would’ve dithered on the front stoop for ages, trying to decide who would go in and break the ice first. Ren hears them talking through the door, and can’t help but eavesdrop. He wants to know what they think of him. He wants to know what people are saying when they think he’s not looking.

It turns out their conversation isn't even about him. It's about the diamond pillars they're building, and how that's where they're going next. For some reason, that stings. Ren is just one line on a list of errands, an event to check off for the day before getting back to work. That's unfair to think, and it's self-centered in the worst way, but he's thinking it.

Ren opens the front door, and pretends to be surprised they're standing on the other side. "Oh! Well good morning fellas. What's happening?"

They come bearing shulker boxes. Ren is starting to get really sick of seeing shulker boxes. Cub had made him potions: invisibility, regeneration, instant healing, turtle master, fire resistance, slow falling. Anything a person could ask for in the pursuit of lessening harm. He tells Ren not to worry about paying for them. He has plenty more if he runs out. Just shoot him a message, free delivery. Ren doesn't even have to leave his house. Ren is tired of people giving him reasons not to leave his house. If he wants for nothing, he'll run out of reasons to not be here when Doc comes around.

xB has two shulkers full of netherite gear, all with max enchantments. He recognizes it's impossible to Ren-proof the world, so he opts to world-proof Ren a thousand times over.

"I recommend wearing the chest plate at all times," xB tells him. "I mean, it'll suck walking everywhere, but it's safer."

Ren looks out at the horizon, at spawn town and the blooming shopping district. All unlit, or else sparingly so. Latticed with half-finished bridges and boardwalks. No one has laid out any roads yet. Well, at least that's a project to keep him busy while he waits. What is he even waiting for? Waiting for the problem to fix? Waiting to die?

Ren thinks dying and getting it done and over with would be preferable to limbo, and then the fear of the unknown afterwards grips him again, and he changes his mind.

Ren doesn't see TFC. He does see the mineshaft that clearly belongs to TFC, which magically appears a few steps from his front door. There is a sign out front.

"If you need materials, leave me a list."

There is a fence gate by the opening, making sure no mobs can escape from the depths. Ren sighs. He leaves a note asking for granite for a road he doesn't want to build, but needs to make his life easier. The next day, three double chests full of granite have appeared beside the mine entrance. Ren at least takes comfort in the fact that it’s one less person asking him how he’s doing.

"I could build you a vault," Mumbo says, and he's only half-joking. "Tall sturdy walls all around the house, sea lanterns for lighting. I've come up with this new wall design - it's my favorite thing right now. You like deepslate and copper, right? Of course you do. I mean, you and Doc did The Octagon."

Ren winces at the mention of Doc. He hasn’t seen him in three days - successful avoidance. Three days ago when he saw him, Doc looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. He might not have.

Mambo doesn’t know any of this. He laughs, high and tense, trying to keep things light. "Anyway, I'd like to see this Roterkönig guy get in one of my vaults. Even Grian can't get through my vaults. They're impenetrable."

"Thanks for the offer, my dude," Ren is tired. He's tired of people offering him things. He's tired of turning them down. He's tired. "But I don't think a vault would be the most fun place to live."

"Oh. Well no, I suppose not." Mumbo scratches his head. "Well would you like some help with anything? Need anything dangerous done that I can do? I don't mind losing a few levels."

Ren feels tired, and he feels bitter. That should be him. Death is supposed to be a minor inconvenience. It should be losing a few levels, or some gear. It should be mundane, a soft limit, not a brick wall. Ren has two lives and they're so precious he has no idea what to do with them except refuse to live them at all.

"No, I don't need any help. Thanks for offering though."

Mumbo looks guilty, like he's stepped on someone's cat by accident. He wants to help, everyone else has, but he has nothing else to offer. How does Ren explain he doesn't want help? How does he explain he hates that people keep asking? How does he explain that by trying so hard to make things easier, they're making things worse? He wants nothing more than to feel normal, and the world is too dangerous for it now.

Ren isn't The Red King. He doesn't need gifts and services to appease him. He wants his life, his lives, back. It's something Mumbo can't give.

"So I've spoken with Pearl, Iskall, and Stress,” False informs him. “If you want to get out a little more, we can escort you. We’ve got some rotating shifts planned out.”

Ren doesn’t want an escort. Ren doesn’t want to be an inconvenience. He wants some time alone, grinding materials, building projects, firing redstone. He wants to be normal. False reads the unspoken words in the measured silence.

“I’m sorry Ren,” she sighs tiredly. She’s allowed to be tired, Ren tells himself. This experience is allowed to be wearying for more than just him. “It’s the best we can think of. No one wants to lose you.”

“I know, False.”

False wrings her hands nervously, and then runs them back through her hair, like she can sooth her own worry that way. Judging by her expression, it doesn't work.

"I'm sorry Ren," she says uselessly. "I'd fight him for you if I could."

"I know."

"If I thought- we could spar maybe. I could teach you some moves. Give you some fighting practice. But… I can't…" False runs her hands through her hair again and then grips the golden ends, like she'd pull it out if it would solve anything. "If I hurt you I'd never forgive myself."

Ren nods. Given the state he's in currently, he'd have trouble forgiving her too. It's too risky. Everything is too risky.

"But if you wanted to build something, we'll keep an eye on you. We'll make sure you don't get hurt. I promise."

Ren shakes his head. That's not what he wants. He doesn't want them to hover over him while he tries to be normal. He doesn't want to try to be anything. He wants it to be effortless again, like breathing. He wants to rewind the days to before he ever asked about The Red King, and what a hels was. Ignorance really was bliss. They watched the sunset together, but Ren wasn't allowed to watch the moon rise. It was too risky.

Ren doesn't think he's made of glass. He thinks he's made of ice. The Red King turned him into one of those red ice sculptures, and he's clasped in the closed fist of his friends, slowly melting.

"--if you ever need anything, I'm all ears."

That's what Scar had offered him. Well, that's what everyone offered him. They were expected to. Here, take all these physical things that will do nothing but remind you of where you are and what's happening. And if these things don't sate you, we can talk. But please let them sate you. We're busy.

Scar's was genuine, though. Scar's came to him from a wheelchair, shrouded in jittering vex magic after a near crash landing. Ren's house was only barely accessible to Scar. He forgot. He forgot like he forgot Wels. He didn't need to remember until it was in front of him, and then he felt stupid about it, as he should.

Scar didn't expect him to feel stupid. He'd joked about the tight doorway, made excuses when a wheel clipped into a side-table and knocked a lamp to the floor. He'd tried to sell Ren a new one when it broke. And then he'd looked up at Ren and said, "But no, really, if you need to talk--"

"Yeah, all ears," Ren chuckled and yanked on one of his own fuzzy dog ears. "Love the elf ears this season, by the way dude."

Scar smiled at him patiently. He wasn't joking. That was rare and sobering. "Listen man, I know what it's like."

"Well… yeah. Third Life."

Scar sighed, and rested his chin in his hand, and he seemed to debate with himself for a moment on whether he should explain. Finally he said, "I know what it's like to be fragile, Ren."

Ren found himself again feeling really, really stupid.

"More specifically," Scar continued, "I know what it's like to be perfectly capable, and have everyone treat you like you're made of glass anyway."

Scar flicked his wrist numbly, a totem of undying spawning into his hand like it'd always been there. "I get it."

Ren felt something in him start to break, a hairline fracture. His emotions seeped down the sides of it like a broken cup, leaking slowly, so that you only knew it leaked by the ring left behind on the table. He was standing in a puddle of his own thoughts, and Scar was waiting to clean him up.

"It feels like they're showing up to my funeral," Ren told him.

Scar nodded.

"Well, it's Hermits Helping Hermits," Joe informs him. He stands on Ren's porch, hands in his pockets, doing a good bit better at not treating Ren like he's made of glass than a lot of people. He stands a few steps away though, like he's scared an accidental knock will shatter him. "And, well, if anyone needs some help right now, it's you."

Cleo, Jevin and Hypno stand in the grass by the Hermissippi, waiting patiently for direction. Ren has none to give them. He sighs.

Joe is smart - not in the same way that Doc is. There’s logic, redstone smart, and then there’s the ability to look at a person and get a feel for them, reading them. Joe is smart like that. Ren watches the gears turn in his head as they stare at each other, parsing the slant of Ren’s shoulders, the fatigue in his posture, the worry in his eyes. Joe is reading him like an open book, or a particularly out-there tabloid piece.

“I get the feeling the last thing you want right now is help,” Joe observes.

Ren scrubs his face tiredly and nods.

“You know, HHH doesn’t have to be -- we don’t have to help you make something, or exist.” Joe tells him. “Is there anything you want right now. Anything at all.”

Ren blinks at Joe. He looks over his shoulder to Cleo, Jevin and Hypno, who in their boredom waiting have taken to picking at each other to see who will get mad first and do something about all the ribbing. He can hear Cleo’s raised voice - she’s losing. Or maybe she’s winning. She likes hitting people. It’s an oddly endearing quality of hers.

“I want a break, Joe,” Ren says. “Just like… one afternoon, man.”

Joe nods slowly. He pulls an elytra and some rockets from his inventory.

“Give me an hour.”

There were four loud gongs, and then the chat was flooded with concern at the revelation that, for some reason, HHH had decided to fight four withers in the nether. Tango’s nether hub was in danger. They needed help immediately, from as many people as possible. Ren watched as hermit after hermit rocketed across the sky towards their nether portals, anyone who wasn’t AFK or knee deep in an important building project diving to help. Doc stopped by long enough to make sure Ren was staying put before joining them.

Ren was, blissfully, alone. Alone to go where he wanted, do what he wanted, without anyone blowing up his communicator to ask where he was or if he was safe. Normal. The illusion of normal was right there. No one swinging by like they were visiting his wake, or consoling him for mourning himself. No one telling him to talk, that they understood. No one hovering over his shoulder making sure he didn’t shatter, or The Red King didn’t spring from some surface to do the shattering for him.

Ren donned his elytra and flew. He picked a random direction and fired rocket after rocket. He wanted to leave his communicator behind, but couldn’t bring himself to. If he got lost, if he needed help, if someone felt betrayed and tried to track him down… well, he’d need it. Besides, normal included his communicator. He wondered if he should bring some blocks. He could build a house. Make some tiny build in the middle of nowhere, pretend everything was alright. What he ended up doing was finding a peaceful place by a stream and some trees to throw the world’s most isolated tantrum.

It’s the stress, he tells himself as he grabs the biggest rock he can find and throws it as far into the water as he can. It splashes with a heavy, hollow plunk that scatters the fish like shattering multicolor glass. Ren picks his way down the shore, throwing more stones. He finds some flint in the gravel of the shore and skips it as hard as he can. It splinters across the water and cracks on the opposite shore, shattering to bits on the rocks on the other side, spraying sparks. Ren thinks it’s the most cathartic thing he’s ever done in his life, and looks for more flint. The next piece he finds is in the shade of a massive oak tree. Ren snags it, turns to throw it, and catches a silhouette out of the corner of his eye. He gasps, stumbles back a few steps, and clutches a hand to his chest. The armored knight, arms crossed leaning against the tree trunk, simply tilts his head.

“Jeez,” Ren gasps, catching his breath from the startle, “you almost scared the life out of me, Wels.”

The knight narrows his eyes. “Not quite.”

The voice is distinctly not Welsknight’s. It’s close. If Ren didn’t know Welsknight as well as he did, he might be able to convince himself he just had a cold, or he’d just woken up or something. His voice was pitched slightly lower, slightly rougher, like it was used more often for shouting than speaking. Ren took in the knight’s armor, its jagged edges, its horned helm and the dark stain that clung to everything like smoke. There were whisps of white-blonde hair that wafted like spiderwebs around the edge of his face, and a smattering of freckles Ren had never seen on Wels. Ren took another step back. The knight smirked.

“You’re Helsknight,” Ren stated the obvious.

“You catch on fast.” Helsknight chuckled. His voice was different, but his cadence and inflection when he spoke were identical to Wels’. It was jarring, like watching a ventriloquist; Wels could be hiding somewhere, throwing his voice, and this knight was just really good at catching it.

Ren backed up another step. He was alone. All he'd wanted was a few minutes of peace and now--

His growing panic must've been obvious, because Helsknight held up his hands, signalling they were empty. "Heel, fleabag. I'm not here to hurt you."

Ren narrowed his eyes at the dark knight. "Right. Sure."

Helsknight put his hand over his heart and offered a shallow bow. His cape fluttered like bat wings around his ankles. "On my word as a knight, Rendog of Hermitcraft, Mirror of The Red King, no harm will come to you by my hand, nor by my blade this day."

When he said it, he sounded almost regal. There was an undercurrent of sarcasm, like he felt such a promise was in some way beneath him. Like Ren should just trust him at his word, without the added formaliy. But even still, he was knightly in a very genuine way. Ren found himself wanting to believe him. He probably shouldn't, but Hels was for the moment unarmed and at ease. That counted for something at least.

"What do you want?"

"Well isn't that the million diamond question." Hels said patronizingly. He resumed his lean against the tree, arms and ankles crossed, sharp and arrogant. Cloaked in shadows, Ren thought he might disappear if he stood there long enough, melt away back into whatever dark he'd come from. "I'm here to offer you an apology."

Well. Ren could honestly say he wasn't expecting that. "What?"

Helsknight sighed, like explaining all this was a chore he hadn't quite worked himself up to doing yet. "When Wels reached out to me about your helsmet, I was trying to scare him when I talked about him. But in doing so I've put someone outside our quarrel through great distress."

Helsknight leaned his head against the tree, feigning boredom. "Not that you care about knightly tenets, but generally speaking, collateral damage is bad form. So I am, for the moment, indebted to you for my…"

Helsknight grimaced, searching for the right word.

"Asshole-ery?" Ren supplied. Hels snorted a laugh.

"Impulsiveness," Hels corrected him.

Ren thought there wasn't much difference, from where he was standing.

"Well you can take your apology and shove it," Ren growled, unable to stop the bitterness rising inside him. "I don't want your help either. If I had nothing else to do with the hels dimension weirdness for the rest of my life, it'd still be too much."

"You seem upset," Helsknight stated flatly, more for the sake of being ironic than any real concern.

"I'm going to die," Ren spat. "Yeah, I'm a little upset."

Helsknight looked him over, measuring him up almost. "You need my help."

"No. I don't. And if I do, I don't want it."

Helsknight smirked, "You two are a lot alike."

"What? He doesn't want your help either?"

"Nope."

Helsknight is watching him coyly, and Ren can see the game he's playing. Goading Ren into getting angry, into agreeing to something just because he hates The Red King that much. To not admit they're anything alike. It's petty. It's obvious.

It's working.

"What can you even do?" Ren snarls disbelievingly, and Hels's smirk twitches with amusement. "Besides make things worse."

"It's my job to make Welsknight's life hard. Like I said, collateral damage is generally frowned upon."

"Good to know I'm just collateral."

"What do you fear, Rendog?" Helsknight asks him, inviting the sharp turn in conversation. "What is your darkness? The worst things about yourself. The things you hate, that bring you despair."

Helsknight levels a piercing stare at him, and his eyes spark like nether fire. "What are the things you wish you could tear out of yourself and cast aside?"

Ren blinks at him, feeling a bit like a rug's just been torn out from beneath his feet, off-balance. He doesn't know how to answer. He doesn't know that he wants to.

Helsknight shrugs and offers an olive branch, "I'd give anything to rid myself of my damnedable conscience. You know how much easier my life would be if I could just slash and hack my way through hels without worrying who gets hurt for it?"

"You have a conscience?" Ren finds himself asking.

"You've met him," Helsknight says matter-of-factly. "Galivants around with bright silvery armor, name starts with a W."

"But that's… he's not…"

"We are shadows," Helsknight informs him. Ren has heard this before. He's heard it from Welsknight himself. He gets the feeling he hadn't really realized what it meant before. "Together we might be complete. Who knows? But he is the worst parts of me, the things I want to rip out, to pin to the floor with my blade until it finally stops wriggling and dies."

There's so much contempt there it's frightening. Helsknight's voice darkens. His eyes spark. His lip curls in a sneer, like talking about Wels is akin to muttering the words of some terrible curse. Then he relents, and he sounds like Wels again. "The feeling is mutual. That's how this works, Rendog. A mirror isn't a one-way window, and a shadow never leaves your feet, even in the dark. If The Red King is evil, if I'm evil, well, you'd have to be too, wouldn't you?"

It sounds rehearsed, reasoned-through. It sounds like an internal debate finally spoken aloud. It sounds like overhearing a private conversation, or private thoughts. It sounds like Wels, or something Wels has argued with himself in circles.

“So I ask you again, Rendog,” Hels prompts him. “Knowing this is the key to defeating your enemy - what parts care you, when they stare back at you through the mirror.”

Ren sinks into the grass to think. Helsknight towers over him, still leaning against the tree, non-threatening, or at least unthreatened. They are silent for a long while, not because Ren doesn’t know what to say, but because he doesn’t really know how to say it.

Finally he admits, “Uhm… I guess I think I’m a coward.”

Helsknight said nothing, only waiting for him to continue.

“And I guess I’m weak.”

Helsknight nodded. Ren couldn’t tell if he was agreeing with him, or just prompting him to continue. He decided on the latter.

“It’s like… I dunno. I’m a burden on people sometimes. I get scared of big projects, and the big awesome things everyone else is doing. And I worry about dragging them down. It’s - like I know I can do great things my dude. Of course I can. My hands have shaped worlds. But so have theirs. And they’ve done it faster, or cooler, or bigger and more impressive. Doc really carried us last season. I was too busy getting myself mind-controlled by a moonrock to build much--”

“So you made a hels that was big and strong and… I’m guessing creative?” Helsknight looks out at the river perplexed. “I’ve never seen The Red King make anything. From what I’ve heard, Dogwarts was pretty utilitarian.”

“I made Dogwarts,” Ren corrected him. “And you’re right, it was. Using my nightmares to turn my friends into hyper realistic ice statues was pretty creative though.”

Helsknight let out an impressed whistle. “I should take notes.”

“I’m scared of death now, too. That’s new.”

“That was also pretty creative,” Hels points out.

“This isn’t helping.”

“What do you think The Red King fears?”

Ren blinks down at his hands, crossed in his lap. “Well… me, I guess.”

“What about you?”

Ren shakes his head, “I have no idea.”

“You should ask him.”

“We’ve established the coward thing, right? Besides, last time I met him, he killed me and cursed me with this yellow name stuff. He’ll just do it again.”

“Maybe,” Hels shrugs, “maybe not.”

They sit in silence for a long while. Ren feels like this conversation hasn’t helped at all, and Helsknight seems content to stand there and offer nothing by way of cohesive advice. If this conversation had a point, Ren’s missed it. And the sun is setting. He needs to go home soon. He’ll be in danger soon, and the other hermits will be finishing up with their battle with the many withers. Ren scrubs his face. He doesn’t want to go back. He doesn’t want to be confronted with his friends again, all of them walking around him like broken glass in a funeral home. He doesn’t want to face them, and all their grimness, and be smothered under the constant reminder of what it means.

Helsknight clears his throat and says, “When I - or Wels, I guess - was a squire, we were given the tenet of courage. Most knights have to learn it at some point. Cowardice is a great way to lose your knighthood.”

Helsknight straightened. He brushed off his cloak, casting a few leaves that had caught on the hem to the ground. “We were too young to know what courage was. The knight training us told us so. And then he gave us some advice, which I’m going to give to you.”

Hels cleared his throat, “He said for someone to know courage, one must first know fear.”

He looked down at Ren and he said, “I think fear has been a dear friend to you, Rendog.”

Ren blinked, and he was gone.

#the barking writer #The Red King Hels #rendog #the red king #helsknight #docm77 #welsknight #hermitcraft ensemble #most folks are mentioned and some speak #i'm not tagging all of them #it's under a read more cut this time are you happy now /j #i don't know what it is about tumblr specifically but i swap wildly between present tense and past tense #when i write stuff here #it's very weird and hard to edit around #i'm sorry if it makes the read confusing

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bciphergrl · 20 days

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A List Of My Sam and Max AUs

It has been a long time, since I posted anything here. I originally was just gonna make only one AU. But, funny enough, I have way more than that now XD

I've made this list, if you're interested in any of the AUs and/or you have any questions about them. I'm more than happy to answer them.

Itty Bitty: During one of Sam and Max fights against a criminal at the toy factory, Max gets hit by a ray and disappears. It was supposed to teleport him somewhere far away. But nope! Max has been shrunken in size and fell into a toy box that was meant to be delivered to the next city over. Now, it's up to him and his new human friend, Jess, to help him reunite with Sam and get him back to his normal size, while also fighting crime together (and learning about Jess' past) along the way.

Error 305: Sam and Max try to escape their universe as it started to collapsed. But they didn't get out without getting physically and mentally damaged. Max really got the short end of the stick, while Sam is still sort of sane. Now, they live in a white void, while Sam tries to find a way to get both of them back to normal.

Trading Minds: It's basically 'what if Sam and Max switch minds?' The results? Max is a more level headed lagomorph, while Sam is a pretty chaotic dog.

The Monster I've Become: After the Events of the Devil's playhouse, Max somehow survived the explosion and became his normal self. But he doesn't look the same though. He looks partly like an eldritch horror monster and a lagomorph. He kept his identity hidden since then and has made an abandoned subway train station as his new home. Sam sadly has no idea that he's still alive.

The Beast Within The Sea: Sam is the captain of the pirate crew who is after a magical jewel on a mysterious island. He manages to get it successfully and was about to leave the island with it. But then, a huge sea creature emerges from the ocean and attacks the ship. It kills everyone except for Sam. Instead, it keeps him on island and refuses to let him leave. Now, he needs to find a way to escape the place without the beast ever finding out.

The Multiverse Traveling Thief: Nobody has seen face or learned the name of the person who steals the artifacts from different universes and destroys those said universes. He keeps his mask on, while out in public to keep his identity hidden. But this lagomorph is known as "The Multiverse Traveling Thief".

Doodle: Sam and Max are simplified doodles who are alive.

The Circus Of Astral Magic: Deep within the forest, there's a magical circus that lures people there. A small lagomorph finds himself there. He thought it was all fun and games. Until he starts to see the dark truth behind it. This isn't an ordinary circus. This one is ment to keep people there, once they enter it.

Shattered Realities: Darla is a fan of a video game franchise, Sam and Max. She really likes playing it's third and final season to the TellTale's game, Sam and Max: The Devil's Playhouse. However, one night, she deeply wished that she can change Max's fate during his 305, even though it was pointless because he's not real, right? Well, the next morning, she woke up in a bedroom that doesn't belong to her. She quickly scanned the room, which she doesn't recognize at all. She slowly gets out of bed and walks to a nearby phone. However, she froze in her tracks when saw her reflection. Max's reflection to be exact. She has no idea if this is some sort of dream or if it's actually real. But, one things for sure, she needs to change Max's fate before she loses her life in a 305.

Heartstrings: Max is a florist who is so madly in love with his 'soul mate' that he'll do literally anything to make them his. Even if it means to kill as many people as it takes and pull some strings behind the scenes to make that happen.

The Pursuit Of Blissfulness: The world was once full of color, before it faded away from the world. Everyone has long grown used to it being Monochrome since then. Now, a lonely lagomorph tries to figure out the mystery behind it. But will it be worth the price of losing the very person that he believes to hate?

System Override: Sam is a child who got dared by his group of friends to sneaking into an abandoned toy company and bringing back a toy. He was pretty scared. But he managed to find a dusty A.I robot which surprisingly looked like a rabbit. He has no idea how to carry it back home. But yet, it turned on by itself and scanned him for a moment, before happily greeting itself. It really did caught him off guard. It was almost as if it woke up. But that didn't stop him from being amazed by it and taking it out of the building. If he only knew the reason behind the toy company's downfall and the danger behind the robot.

An Elder God In Lagomorph's Clothing: The universe where Junior disguised itself as a Lagomorph named Max on Earth who pretends to be a silly and crazy person who is partners with Sam and they still work together as the freelance police. However, it has a much sinister agenda for the universe.

Human: A universe where Sam and Max are humans. Sam (who goes by Sebastian) works as a detective for the police. Max (who goes by Mathew) makes comics for a comic series 'Sam and Max: Freelance Police'. They're bffs in this universe and hang out together, whenever they're not busy with work.

Driven To Insanity: Sam lives in the world where alot of people were infected by a terrible unknown disease that causes the infected people to suddenly attacked non-infected people. They show signs of discoloration with purple patches on their body and make sounds that sounded like gibberish to any non-infected. Sam is one of many few who aren't sick and has been one his own for a decade now. He ran into Max, who has the disease but he claims to be strangely immune to it. Together, they survive in the zombie-like apocalyptic world.

The Hare And His Lapdog: Sam goes to a seemingly ordinary casino and he has a really good luck streak at poker. This catches the attention and interest of the owner of the building. So, they walk up to him and gives him a deal. If he can beat them at poker, he can walk away with a trillion dollars. However, if he loses, he'll lose all of the winnings and will have to work for them. Sam doesn't see it as much of a challenge and played a game against them. He ends up losing though and had to work for them. However, what he didn't realize that he didn't sign up for the casino. He signed up to work for the Mafia and the owner, who is revealed to be Max, is a the Mafia Boss. Now, Sam is on edge of life or death as he tries to find a way to escape from him.

Tiny Detectives: A universe where a tiny version of Sam and Max somehow ended up in the real world and found their way into my house. Now, I'm taking care of them, while trying to figure out how they ended up here.

I'll most likely update it, if I make more Sam and Max AUs.

#sam and max #sam and max freelance husbands #sam and max freelance police

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violettduchess · 1 year

Note

Request for your Broken Heartstrings:

Sariel + injury + nightmare? If possible? Please?

Thank you

A/N: The prompt "nightmare" was requested several times so each request will get a shorter fic. The Nightmare shorts will share the same beginning and then change with each suitor.

This short features Sariel x reader

CW: blood, death

Word Count: 913

Sleep found you easily that night, rocking you in its arms until you fell into a deep and peaceful slumber. What dreams found you were pleasant, drifting in and out of your mind like iridescent bubbles following a light breeze. At the moment, your mind has taken you to a far-away beach. White sand is warm under your bare feet. The salty air tickles your nose. The gentle lapping of the waves soothes your body as you sink slowly into the deeper, darker parts of slumber...….except there, off in the distance, something is pulling at the threads of your peaceful dreaming. You try to ignore it but it is insistent. A tugging at your sleeve. A knocking at a door. A chime that won’t stop ringing. The beach fades away, despite your desperate desire to stay in that warm, safe place. The tugging grows more urgent. The knocking grows louder. The chiming fills your mind until you are jerked completely out of sleep’s embrace......to the fitful sounds of your lover in crisis.

Sariel Noir

Being the minister to the royals of Rhodolite is not without its dangers. His closeness to the throne is well known. His influence undeniable. It grants him respect but it also paints a target on his back. He is always careful, has never worried much for himself. But now he sees the error of his ways, too late.

They came for him in the dead of night. That late hour when the moon holds its breath and the stars retreat from shadows that rule the land. The assassins’ blades found their mark, sinking into the form huddled beneath the blankets of Sariel’s bed. Over and over they drank. Sloppily. Greedily. Until the bedsheets ran red. Like wraiths in the night, they vanished, a job well done. Only it wasn’t the palace devil they brought an end to that night.

He returns to his room, rubbing at the knot in his neck as he pushes open the familiar door. The paperwork could not wait and he told you to go to bed without him, not to wait up despite your pleading that you could read in the same room and not be a bother. A tender caress of your cheek, a quick kiss to your forehead and then he had insisted you get some rest. Even disappointment looked beautiful when it was on your face. But you had given in, warning him you planned on holding him close to you, a prisoner to your embrace with no hope of escape when he finally joined you for the night. Those words brought a smile to his lips. He was looking forward to it all throughout his work.

His body knows before he does. He freezes in place the moment he steps through the doorway. His room is too still. Too quiet.

The smell is what hits him first. Iron. Copper. The bedsheets look too dark. His feet move of their own accord, each step taking him closer to the gruesome truth. A sliver of moonlight is enough. He sees the blood, the torn bed sheets, your wide-open eyes.

His limbs suddenly weigh as much as boulders. His knees buckle as he sinks to the carpet, also wet with your blood. They were after him. They wanted him. They stole your life instead and now he is left, speechless, breathless, motionless at the bedside of your destruction. Air sputters from his cracked lips. He tries to say your name. Nothing comes out but strangled gasps.

“Sariel!” His gasping noises were what did it, the thing that tore through your sleep like a shot and exploded you into wakefulness. You say his name calmly but firmly, hands gripping his shoulders. Your voice is a lifebuoy amid treacherous waters, pulling him away from the wet, clinging hands of despair and with one final, soul-shaking gasp, he surfaces into the night, into the pale moonlight of his own bedroom.

His heart pounds inside his chest like breakers upon black rocks, but his gaze finds you, your hands still on his shoulders, your eyes swimming with concern. Your name is a whisper carried away by the wind, lost in the howl of his mind as it tries to reconcile the image of your lifeless body with the real you, the you of right now, your beloved face pale with worry. You’re in his bed, but you’re not…..you’re not….

Suddenly he reaches out, his hands scuttling across your body, anxious and seeking. You’re ok. You’re not hurt. There are no gaping wounds on you anywhere. You’re startled at his hurried touching, at the way his hands fly over you. Normally his touch is like air to fire, spreading warmth and want throughout. But this is leagues away from that kind of touch. It’s only your hands finding his, catching them like lost birds and then holding them against your heart that stops his frantic searching.

“It’s ok.” You repeat the words, gently, your fingers wrapped around his hands, keeping them still and warm. “Sariel….it’s ok.” He blinks his violet eyes, so dark in the wan light of the bedroom. You hold his gaze. You stroke the back of his hands. You nod as his breathing slows.

He swallows and then reaches for you, falling back into the bed with you in his arms, his embrace a mix of something protective and something afraid. He breathes your name into your hair, turning his cheek to rest it against your head. You wrap an arm around him, placing a kiss above his heart. You don’t ask him what happened. He will tell you when he is ready. For now, you are satisfied that he is breathing evenly, that his heartbeat drums steadily under your ear.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart @bubblexly

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri sariel #sariel noir #cw blood #cw death #cw nightmare #sariel x reader #broken heartstrings #ikemen fanfic #ikemen fanfiction #violettwrites

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bloody-wonder · 4 months

Text

2023 reading wrap up

sort sort sort i love to arbitrarily sort😌📚

*i decided to get even more creative this time and named the tiers after different things from the books featured on this list. see explanation below🙃 **the following series i read in full are represented only by the first book: the aurelian cycle, the radiant emperor, the winnowing flame, sorcery of thorns, monk & robot, lilywhite boys

so in 2023 my reading was heavily curated: i challenged myself to finish at least 5 series i started a long time ago, to start at least 5 new ones, to read at least 10 classics, at least 5 dark academia books, at least 10 books not in english and to re-read at least 5 books i've been meaning to re-read for some time - and i did well at all of these challenges except for the last two (missed the goal by one book in each case). it's still difficult for me to find books in languages i can read other than english which i actually want to read as well as prioritizing re-reads over new exciting books😒🤷‍♀️

but overall i would say this was a good way to organize my reading year. i like planning, i like structure, i like crossing things off different lists so completing these challenges gave me a great sense of accomplishment. but more importantly, i feel like they achieved their respective purpose: i returned to stories i fell in love with years ago and finally followed some of those journeys to their end. i discovered new fun journeys - some of them so exciting i had to finish the series immediately and some that will last me for a few more years to come. i finally feel like i trained my classics brain muscle back to its glory days and i can't express how pleasantly surprised i am to see one of those dusty tomes i read by the dozen as a teen on my top 5 again. i rediscovered my love for dark academia. i did read books in different languages and some of them ended up quite high on my tier list as well.

at the same time i had plenty of opportunities left to mood-read. boy parts, my favorite book of the year, for example wasn't a part of any challenge. the same goes for semantic error which i picked up at random during the bl manhwa revival i experienced at the end of 2023. so my top tiers ended up being a mix of different genres, the new and the old series and books, the expected and the unexpected faves.

i wasn't trying to read a certain amount of books this year but surprisingly i managed to read even more than last year (when it comes to the page count). and as for the quality, i do have a better feeling than i had in 2022 too. while i didn't manage to regain the heights of literary enjoyment from the golden era of 2019-2021, i think i'm on my way there :)

here's another curious wrap up thingy @magpiefngrl tagged me in! very representative of my reading tastes, though i must say i have only 6 unread kj charles books left and i'm starting to get concerned about what i'm going to do when i inevitably gobble them up in 2024😬

what about you guys? please tell me about your reading year! you can do a tier list (if you're a virgo) or the my year in books overview (if you regularly update your goodreads) or just write a post, if you want to. or you can also ignore me and go have a fantastic year😉🍾🎉🎆🎄

@figuringthengsout @fugitoidkry @pinkasrenzo @fandomreferencepending @counterwiddershins @magpiefngrl @sugarbabywenkexing @weirdsociology @theodoradove @doh-rae-me @venndaai @sixappleseeds @oliviermiraarmstrongs @bookish-moony

goodreads │ old yearly wrap ups 2020 2021 2022

explanation of the tier titles under the cut (if you even care)

spermaceti is a precious substance derived from the head of the sperm whale that may or may not be the whale's sperm. these are the books i absolutely loved. the vibe is that scene from moby dick where they are all on deck slicking each other with spermaceti and chanting "sperm!🙌" (that's how i remember it anyways)

toy excavator is the source of his strongest positive feelings for the main character of semantic error chu sangwoo. these are the books that i loved too but not on the spermaceti level, you know. the vibe is that scene where sangwoo realizes he's in love with jaeyoung and is like,, damn. this feels exactly like that time they gifted me a toy excavator🤔😒 (he's autistic)

skyfish is the least cool type of dragon in the aurelian cycle. the hufflepuff dragon, if you will. but it's still a dragon so these were some good books i still enjoyed😌

defekta are sentient furniture in nino cipri's sci fi novella defekt. now, in this book the concept of defekta very much serves the purpose of questioning what things we see as defective and the ethics of of how we treat them. for the purposes of this tier list however defekta are the books which range from good to great but which at the same time have some big issue that made me want to throw them at a wall. that's why the radiant emperor is ranked twice lol it has to be on my top 5 bc i'm obsessed but also ragsghhjdsgjhjbbdsd

kerinne is a made up drink the characters of mca hogarth's cozy sci fi series the dreamhealers like to drink. in 2023 i found out that i am not immune to cozy sff but one genre-specific thing i will forever remain indifferent towards is foods & beverages - i don't care about them too much irl so when they're fictional i care even less. these are the books that were just whatever🤷‍♀️

holism is art's annoying coworker we're introduced to in system collapse. a totally overrated guy, just like these books🙄

green varnish is a resin-like substance a certain type of creature in the winnowing flame excretes after consuming everything it finds in its path so that entire towns together with their residents get entombed under it forever. it's also transparent so the areas attacked by these creatures basically turn into see-through graveyards brrrr. these were The Worst books i read in 2023😬

#book tag #putting boy parts into the spermaceti tier over moby dick & cackling maniacally #ugh both goodreads and tiermaker kept crashing on me but i persevered #also if you're one of my reader followers and you want to tell me about your reading year please consider yourself tagged!

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sleepymorphine · 1 year

Text

Please stay by me...

↬Warnings: There is no warnings! Just a really fluffy Xiao because I'm felling bad these days (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

↬I tried to keep a Gender Neutral!Reader, I think there is no references to the reader gender …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

↬Author Note: English is not my first language, if there is any error please forgive me (⁠｡⁠��́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠)

I felt bad and wanted to run away, I didn't have the strength to continue, I wanted to end it all, but I resisted the urges and didn't, instead I went to the balcony of the Wangshu Inn to vent.

Being there I felt a strong desire to call Xiao, I wanted to see him, talk to him, have him by my side. However, I have never allowed myself to have those kinds of selfish thoughts, since I was little I had been told that it was bad to bother others and be inconsiderate, I had always had low self-esteem and had considered that I was a burden on everyone, in this case I didn't he was the exception so when I was about to call him I regretted it and decided better to continue crying in silence without bothering anyone.

I was secluded in a corner, hugging myself and hiding my face in my legs, I only realized that there was someone else when I heard the sound of footsteps, scared I looked at who was approaching me, only to find some beautiful golden eyes that stared at me.

—Why did not you call me? —Xiao asked, crouching down in front of me—.

Seeing him in front of me made me cry, I had been carrying so much for so long... but I couldn't anymore, I didn't have the strength to bear everything that was happening and I just wanted to die.

Although Xiao didn't understand humans very well, he had always tried hard to understand me, so I noticed some concern on his face when I saw that he was crying in such a heartbroken way.

I buried my head in my legs again, but this time I felt his hand on my head, he began to stroke my hair gently, slowly, comfortingly. Due to the shock I was petrified, the occasional sob escaped my lips from time to time, I also had some spasms from crying, but he continued there with me, caressing my head.

—It's okay, everything will be fine —he said after a while—.

I raised my head to look at him and was even more surprised when he began to dry my tears carefully, I tried to say something several times, however, I was choking on my own words and only his name and a few sobs and stammers came out of my mouth. .

—Come here —he said, standing up. He took my hand and helped me up, but I couldn't resist anymore and I clung to his body with need— Y/N?

—I-I'm sorry...

Xiao denied after a few seconds, he must have been surprised by my sudden closeness. —It's okay. Is there... Is there anything I can do for you?

—Stay like that... please.

—Well, I guess I can do that.

Xiao did not understand human emotions well, but he always tried so hard to understand me, I appreciated that, I needed it more than anyone in the world that day...

We were together for a while longer, but then it got really late and it was really cold out there, Xiao walked me to my room and made sure I was comfortable under my sheets.

—You must go —I said— I'm sure you have things to do and I'm just wasting your time... I'm very sorry.

He came over and lay down next to me. —No, I'll stay until you fall asleep or you won't sleep all night, you wouldn't call me either so I prefer to make sure.

I smiled and hugged him, then I leaned a little and kissed his forehead, the moonlight allowed me to see that she was surprised and his cheeks turned slightly pink, he hugged me too and closed his eyes. —Just- go to sleep, now.

—Okay okay, I will, good night... Xiao.

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dekaydk · 6 months

Text

QL/BL Series I watched in 2023

This is a ridiculously long list because

I finally discovered the existence of this genre late in 2022, and after years in the desert with only occasional gay-themed media, am drinking deeply at the oasis, and

I have basically given up on other forms of TV this year (long story mostly having to do with the crap that's out there, the networks yanking content before it's finished just to avoid paying residuals…also, I will never watch another piece of Star Trek if JJ Abrams is within 1 parsec*).

I had a long period of convalescing from a broken collarbone.

*probably an obscure TOS reference but the initiates will get it

In Progress

IFYLIA

Kiseki: Dear to Me - I love all of the characters, main and support. Writing is fun, character motivations are clear, acting is good-to-excellent, directing is solid if unadventurous. And the colors! While it's not rigorously real-life, it hits harder than most because there are actual adult choices being made, and real consequences for those choices. The comedy is always in service of the plot or the characters. The cameos are off the charts. This is also an exception to my "generally don't watch BTS until the show's over" rule: the BTS have been fun. The actors are clearly having a blast.

Dangerous Romance - uneven, but not so much that I've given up. Had potential to be more of a commentary on economic strata: though there's room for more in the coming episodes, I think they missed the boat by bascially making Kang now the MC instead of Sailom, which is disappointing. Right now I can see this going into either "okay, but meh" or "don't recommend" categories, but I doubt it's gonna be a "recommend" because they haven't got the runway for a save.

Kabe-Koji-Nekoyashiki-kun Desires to be Recognized - unexpected depths to this show. The characters are revealed gradually, the comedy is a delight, the acting's great, the staging and cinematography are terrific. Quite enthused about this show.

I Can't Reach You - these two are a delight. BTW, @lurkingteapot says that they are working on their own captions, which should be infinitely better than anything else that's out there. Going to rewatch when they do post because I think it will be a far more engaging experience. (Also, if you like Japanese BLs, you should follow them for their linguistic and cultural insights.) (Note: I have no idea how to replace captions so I have to learning ahead. 😇)

One Room Angel - unconventional; not sure where this is going but I almost don't care. These two are just plain touching to watch. Only two episodes in and I'm hooked.

Finished and Enjoyed

If It's With You - so far, this is a palate cleanser I needed. Cute, sweet, low angst, and clearly made to be a dessert course, not a hearty main dish. Actors are doing a great job. (Side note: Makeup and wardrobe are doing a good job in making them look more conventional vs. how good looking they are IRL.)

Kieta Hatsukoi - this was just fantastic. Sweet, funny, and unexpectedly poignant. I see no reason to remake it, much as I appreciate Fourth and Gemini.

My Personal Weatherman - once I figured out that they'd only been living together for a short time after graduation, it fell into place. The crippling insecurity on the one hand and the cryptic overconfidence on the other made for a really engaging dynamic.

Sing My Crush - this was one of those almost perfect shows. Just watch it.

My Beautiful Man S2 - love me my babies learning to communicate, and Kiyoi taking Hira shopping and making Hira blossom for the day was delightful. This show is so unconventional and I cannot get enough. Nobody does "your low self-esteem is crippling you in ways you don't even begin to understand and people love you anyway" like Japan.

My Dating Sim - so sweet without being corn syrup. Palate cleanser.

Semantic Error - really, really enjoyed this smart autistic bossy nerd meets semi-slacker athlete artist. One of the rare shows where the actors are pretty obviously straight (BTS kinda made that clear and in the future, I am generally gonna skip BTS until the show's over) but I nonetheless bought their characters being into each other.

Laws of Attraction - I wasn't sure about this at first until I realized rather late that (a) lakorn is a thing, and (b) "lakorn = telenovela" and all the conventions that implies. After that, I sat back and enjoyed the camp and stopped being critical. Film and Jam are fun to watch, and you cannot tell me that Film didn't enjoy every second of scene chewing. The second couple were touching as all heck. And Nawin came in and briefly stole the show. And Silvy and Organ stole it back!

Unintentional Love Story - both couples were delightful; loved the pottery/creativity as a central element (and coveting it for my own). Looking forward to more of Ho Tae and Dong Hee in S2.

DNA Says Love You - Although I kinda had the plot twist figured out early—admit it, the casting for Amber was absolutely perfect—I still loved the journey. The "witch in the woods" bit was fun, even if I'm not a fan of predestination-style plots (I prefer characters arrive at their destination without supernatural assistance). I could watch Erek all day. Slightly slow to get out of the starting blocks but worth the time.

Color Rush - I'm not easily sold on fantasy premises but I enjoyed this one. Love interest played by Hur Hyun Jun was straight out of a manga panel (that jawline). Sadly, he withdrew from a reprise of the character in S2, I'm told because fans got weird. (Fans, learn to separate the artist from the art.)

Not Me - be gay, do crimes against the oligarchy. Gorgeous cast: Gun, Off, First, Gawin, Mond, Film; good cinematography; nice character arcs. Not perfect (Todd's character in general, and I never did get why Black got beat up in the first place; they kinda ended up at "it's just so"), but in general the show strove for a higher level. Fun fact: written by a (then-?) member of the Thai parliament.

Old Fashion Cupcake - devoted junior dogsbody doggedly digs dense dejected boss out of dumps. Okay, my alliterative talents are low today. Cute, and goes unexpectedly hard during the confession scene, and after. Thoroughly enjoyable and a bit of a rumination on how people can pigeonhole themselves to their own detriment.

To My Star and To My Star 2 - ah, these two. The sunshine man has to go hardcore to get his man to see his own value. I would rewatch this just for fun.

Takara-kun and Amagi-Kun - Oh, to be in high school with good friends who help you figure out your feelings. I will hear no criticism of this perfect little dessert.

Mr. Unlucky Has No Choice But to Kiss! - the unlucky/lucky balance gimmick could have been annoying but they made it work. Sweet, simple, seriously cute actors, very much in earnest comedy. Palate cleansing fun.

My Engineer - main couple: okay but I've already mostly forgotten them. RamKing were different. Ram's character was absolutely coded as autistic but no one ever used the word, no one called him weird, and King figured it out and went with it, no problems. Loved that part. (King had his plant obsession so maybe he got it on one level.) Also, the way RamKing ended left a huge opportunity for the fanfic on them, much of which has been great. Sadly, there won't be an S2.

The Eclipse - writing could have been sharper (pace and motivation needed work) but Khao and First were a ton of fun to watch. Loved the junior queens being the most fearless troublemakers.

Big Dragon - went into it knowing it would be a trash-the-pub watch 😎 yet it actually ended up a little more solidly than I had expected. Plenty of heat, and now I get why people are MosBank fans. Fun fact: Jeff Satur apparently wrote the theme that Isbanky sang.

Finished and Oh Well It Was A BL

Until We Meet Again - I know it worked for lots of folks and I get why, but (a) reincarnation stories and (b) I love me some Fluke but I hate the blushing maiden trope especially when as here they hammer it into the ground with a rocket-powered pile driver. ("P'Deeeeeaaan!") I actually preferred the past couple to the present-day couple because the characters were written better. (Not the actors' fault; the stakes were higher, and you can't act your way out of a sub-par script.)

Mr. Cinderella - Vietnam's probably not got a mature industry yet so I may have excessively high expectations, but…amateurish writing, directing, cinematography and sound. Characters were all over the map. And the bad guy ex was…uuuuugly toxic. (Also, polonium? Seriously?) Attractive cast to be sure, who didn't really have much to work with so for all the audience knows they are all Shakespeareans in training. The coy screeching nurse was so very repetitive. I did want to like it and if I had a script I would totally go to town on it as an exercise. (I'm an editor, not a writer.)

Why R U? Korea - Did they…lose a hard drive with the audio? Cheap out and not hire an audio engineer? Seemingly half the dialog was looped, and often jarringly. But the real fault was the writing: the behavior of the main couple was inconsistent, especially where they parted ways and then pretty much ignored that for a while, and in the last episode with the lead saying he didn't want to work together on the thing that was extremely important to both him and his interest. I wanted to like this because I really liked the main couple and Jeon Sa Ra's Do Yeon. Best scene was Lee Won after his audition teetering on the edge of losing it when his interest ignorantly came out to tease him: just a lovely little bit of acting by Lee Jung Min, without a word being spoken.

Seriously, this scene makes me want to learn how to gif. Lee Jung Min as Lee Won

Finished and Don't Recommend

TharnType: 7 Years of Love - the first season was objectively bad for reasons I and others have set out elsewhere (noncon sex, underage rrpe(!), sub-par acting/directing). The second season wasn't as bad, but it wasn't good either, with forced misunderstanding narratives being the most notable plot point. Seven years together and you still are that easy to convince that your man's stepping out on you? Like the first season, 7 Years also gave the sense that Mew (at least in this case) is a one-note actor, though this could have been the director's fault. Gulf had more good moments.

La Pluie - I so wanted to like a show that was gonna take a trope and upend it. And I absolutely get what lots of folks liked about it. For me the uneven pacing, sometimes blatantly contrived plot, often wooden direction, dialog and acting (with the notable exception of Suar, who was by far the best in the show and not just because he got most of the best lines) and terrible continuity did it in. (Lomfon's confession scene, though: Tien's going up on his toes for the kiss is burned into my memory.)

Started and bailed

Minato's Laundromat S2 - I so wanted to like this after S1. Instead of giving Minato a growth arc, the writers inserted a silly and ultimately pointless amnesia story. This seriously pissed me off to the point that I stopped watching. Not the actors' fault, but the writers, well, that's a paddlin' offense.

Only Friends - when certain folks start expressing concern, I listen. @bengiyo explained how this show failed its promise of showing actual queer lives. When it abandoned whatever vision its creators may have had in favor of contorting itself into something controlled by fan input, proving it was just an exercise in branding pair marketing, that confirmed it was not going to get me to return after Ep 3.

Naughty Babe - just, just, what in the Pennzoil is going on? MC, you seriously went how long without nookie and didn't talk with your man about it? And then you fake amnesia? Dude, you are not a serious person and the writers should be ashamed. I see from my Tumblr feed that they tried to redeem themselves later with the marriage and adoption bit, and good for that, but I ain't got time for incoherent messes.

Low Frequency - decorative actors, but incoherent plot where I simply couldn't see what was happening and where it was going. Couldn't motivate myself to continue after the second episode.

Step By Step - I've already posted about this. This had the potential to be wayyy above average but it kinda fell apart with the main couple, and the secondary couple simply were written so badly there was nothing to root for. I got almost all the way through this but after it became clear there wasn't going to be a late save, I gave up. The. Actors. Wuz. Robbed.

En of Love: Tossara - this felt like someone got their uncle to pull strings to get them a show. Dialog was anemic, character motivations were bland/absent, pacing was uneven. I started the second episode but I'm not sure I finished it.

If you made it this far, congratulations. Tell me what you liked or didn't agree with; I come across as opinionated but I'm always looking to learn. 😎

#bl drama #completely self indulgent post

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