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genshingarbage · 3 years

Note

Could I request any boys of your choice where they’ve had an exhausting day and their s/o says they should take a nap on their lap? Thank you!

Cute boi hours again? Yes <3 Sleepy time awe! I am gonna pick a very select few that i think this works well with, so i hope you're okay with the hand picked few ;) - Mod Diluc

Rest My Love.

|| Head Cannons ||

Kazuha/Diluc/Xiao/Kaeya

Kazuha

He was beat, exhausted and aching, every muscle in his body ached like something fierce. But, who ever said the life of a lone wandering samurai was gonna be a breeze? Yea, that's right- no one. Because it sure as hell wasn't. He was use to feeling this way yet somehow it still made him just as grouchy as the first time.

He walked into the small building that was titled as your homestead and yawned; stretching his arms out he heard a few odd bones pop from the pressure, it relieved some of his tension but not nearly enough for it to be actually satisfying. With a huff he removed some of his more heavy going clothing, including his shoes, till he was more loose and relaxed.

He shuffled slowly into the house, trying not to wake you. You were his lover and so him coming to your home was somewhat normal now, but he often was away for large periods of time, and he never liked to disturb you. Specially when you're busy. Which you were, you had your nose deep between the pages of a gripping story written so entrancing like from a book. So much for his first theory that you'd be asleep at this time, huh?

He tried to creep past you as you read, but you wasn't born yesterday. So with a roll of your eyes and a soft exhale from your nose you spoke out. "Kazuha. Welcome home hun." You didn't even bother to turn your head around to him, you knew fully well he was frozen in his steps now, eyes wide like a doe caught in headlights. He blinked a few times before sorting himself back to his normal standing position and chuckling awkwardly, a breif rub to the back of his neck ensued.

"Ah, yea, I'm uh- yea. I'm home, thanks Y/N. I really didn't wanna disturb you there." He spoke softly and with great regret; like he'd just committed an awful crime. You simply closed the book after having bent the tip of the page you were on, as to know where to start off when you return to it, and placed the item down on the small table infront of your sofa. "Kazuha, it's fine... I was only reading a book." You chuckled gently.

"I know, but... it felt wrong to interupt you so abruptly specially when you seemed so into it-" you'd twisted your torso ever so slightly so your eyes could lay on his now, your heart almost broke, he looked absolutely shattered- like all life was drained from him. Just what had this crazy man gotten up to in his absence? "Kazuha- oh my goodness. Look at you! You're about to pass out."

He smiled politely and waved his hand side to side as if dusting your worry back into the wind. "Nah, I'm a lil tired that's all. I'm gonna have a lie down, I'll be right as rain after." He went to go back to making his way to the exit of your living room, that is until you called out ever so gently. "Or well, I wouldn't mind if you rested your head on my lap." A faint blush flushed your cheeks. He turned to face you yet again. Blinking several times over again.

"Really?" He tilted his head almost like a curious puppy, he has no idea how cute he is sometimes. "I mean, sure why not? You've not been home for over a month. I do get lonely ya know, the company would feel nice, and your presence is always warm and welcoming." You smiled sweetly at him and he returned the expression with full earnest. Nodding softly he made his way to the sofa, where you rested, and now reshuffled and organised yourself to get into a more comfy position.

It wasn't long before he was laying on his side with his head nestled into your lap, breathing softly as your hand gently rested adorn his head of hair. "Mmh. You're right, this beats sleeping alone any day." He hummed sleepily to you, by the way his voice was giving out you could tell he was close to succumbing to his slumber already. With a gentle smile still planted across your lips you hushed him softly.

"Shh, rest now. My Kazuha." You began to hum a quaint little lullaby that had him snoring in under three minutes. This man, he works himself so hard, but still, it's one of the reasons you love him so much, the fact he's hard working and never gives in. And you have the comfort in your mind of knowing whenever he gets this tired again, he'll have you here to be by his peaceful sleeping side everytime. Now and forever.

Diluc

The sky was a beautiful orange and red tone, the colours mixed so beautifully, with the white fluffy clouds scattered around too, it looked like a stunning evening. You were sat alone at the dinner table again, your chin resting on your opened palm, your eyelids half shut to block the rays of the last bit of presence from the sun.

The candles had long since burned out and the beautiful sweet honeyed roast you'd prepare with such delicacy and tender care was going cold. Diluc was suppose to be home over thirty-five minutes ago, he promised he'd make it in time for whatever dinner the maids threw together tonight, he wasn't aware you'd taken it upon yourself to lovingly prepare tonight's meal for him.

You couldn't be mad at the man; or hold a grudge for that matter, you knew what type of person he was, you knew he wasn't one for sticking to plans and promises, he simply couldn't be with the work he has, not to mention his little sun down hobby that you became privy too after several years with the crimson haired gentleman. If there was one thing you were grateful for, it was the fact you knew without doubt he truly did love you. And in a way that was enough for you.

It was sundown now and your dinner had long been since tidied up by the maids, with a somewhat solemn look to your face you'd decided to go to bed early that night. Knowing Diluc, he wouldn't be home for hours to come anyway. Your eyes were just starting ache and your eyelids were starting to feel heavy for you now. Breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth softly you let your body sink further into the warm embracing sheets.

Click.

Your eyes slowly opened back up when you heard the all too familiar noise of your bedroom door opening, narrowing your eyes slightly to help adjust to the dim glow of the room, the small aid of illumination being provided solely by your nightstand candle. It wasn't hard to make out who it was however, since his deep red hair practically danced from the slight glow of the flicking flame.

"Diluc." It came out more like a whisper which you never intended for it too, but you were so gripped by tiredness now it was hard to sound more awake at the given circumstances. "Sorry for waking you my dear, wasn't my intention." You hummed softly in response and then watched as best as you could as he removed his attire and shoes, stripping down to just his boxers.

Gripping the band that kept his hair up was the last part, with a tug his hair flew down and waved apart, you kept a watchful eye on him. As it was when his hair was down that he was always at his most tired and vulnerable mental state now. "The maids told me Y/N." He still sounded strict, or at least he was trying his best too. But his voice wavered in every sense of the word.

The bed dipped beside you as his weight was added to the mattress now, a small groan escaping his lips. You knew what he meant, it wasn't a surprise the maids told him you'd prepared the dinner today, you'd just wish they'd not sometimes, to avoid adding more stress to the man's poor ordeals. "It's fine, it was just a small attempt. I'm not exactly the best cook to begin wit-"

The poorly sounding wince from him cut you off, the failed attempt to stifle it and keep it under wraps didn't go unnoticed. You narrowed your eyes at the man beside you in bed now, and then you saw. He was littered with cuts and bruises, they surely must hurt, why didn't he say anything? Scratch that. He never tells you anyway, thinking its better that way. Silly man.

With a gentle huff you shook your head, shuffling your weight and sitting up ever so slightly, your back pressing against the several puffed pillows under you. "Enough of that. Come here darling." It was your turn to sound strict however, and for once he didn't fight back. Your heart tugged at you slightly as you felt the weight shifting around beside you and then were suddenly graced with the feeling of his head nuzzling into your lap.

You took it upon yourself to softly begin to caress his head, letting your hand stroke and massage the man's hair and scalp. The groans and sighs that left him were evidence enough he was in a blissful state right now, your sweet Diluc. Always putting his life on the line to protect those less fortunate than him, when will he learn? That his life matters just as much. Sigh.

You heard a soft mutter from him, something along the lines of 'sorry' and 'dinner'. But he was already taken by the nights calming embrace to be formulating anything coherent now, so you closed your eyes with another soft shake of your head and continued to massage his head. Till both you and your hand laid still, silent, asleep. Whatever he'd done tonight, whatever reason he'd missed dinner, it didn't matter. As long as he loved you it was enough. It always has been, it always will be.

Xiao

The stars twinkled softly an slowly, looking so entrancing from down below, the dark blue sky washing above you with the dazzling twinkles looking like small fire flies dancing around. You stood there, your knee bent slightly as your weight was supported by the banister of the top balcony to Wangshu Inn. Any minute now, you thought to yourself calmly.

And is if on que a sudden and harsh breeze blew past you, followed up with a loud thud. You turned your head ever so slightly, seeing the young looking yaksha lifting back up from his crouch landing position. "Welcome home honey." you said somewhat stone like, to which you got a simple sounding 'Tsk' as response, as he chucked his spear lazily behind him, to which it dissolved away instantly.

You rolled your eyes to the quiet scoff that greeted you back, shaking your head slowly, your eyes went back to focus on the landscape below you from the viewpoint of the balcony. It was so peaceful and beautiful. "How has your day been?" You decided to question him further, all while remaining your focus elsewhere.

"Fine." he responded in short. This type of reply was normal to you now, he wasn't the talkative type, despite having been the first to say to you he loved you. "Well, that's good then." you said back in your normal sweet tone now. You could tell from that tone in his voice he was exhausted, he didn't have to say or do anything, you could just tell.

Thinking it was best to leave now and give him his privacy you turned away from the balcony and began to walk to the exit. "I will let you rest my love, see you soo-"

"Wait."

His voice was louder than its ever been round you, the faint flush on his cheeks was evidence enough he never intended for it to come out so loudly from his own mouth. "Xiao?" you turned back round, seeing him stood there looking like a somewhat lost lamb, it was damn cute.

"S...stay with me, ... please."

His voice, so soft, so sweet, so gentle. You felt your heart crack slightly, your poor adeptus, he must've been rushed off his feet tonight. The dark bags forming under his eyes said all you needed to hear.

Chewing your bottom lip softly you breathed in and then walked over to him slowly. "Xiao..." you whispered his name lovingly, his eyes met with yours and for a brief moment the air left your lungs, the sight of his exhausted face so close to you, actively seeking comfort within you, it was enough to melt the coldest of icebergs.

Letting your hand slip into his with a gentle squeeze, a small smile on your lips you led him down the stairs of the Inn, into your bedroom, a tidy and quaint little sleeping quarter. He needed to rest, he is pushing himself too much, and if you do not take action, he never will.

Climbing onto the bed once you'd abandoned your shoes on the carpet you looked up at him, laying in a relaxing position. The red on his cheeks only flushed deeper and darker, and you couldn't help but laugh softly. Such a lewd mind, oh my, you never expected him to get the wrong idea over a situation like this.

"Xiao- no... not that." you chuckled at his confused expression, he was so alien to the concept of just touch in general now, that to him he sees it so black and white, being close means being intimate, otherwise why get close? So it was up to you to show him the ways of being human again.

You let your hand softly pet and stroke your lap and he raised his brow, but seeing the sudden light in his eyes spark showed you he caught on to what you really were aiming for. So he hesitantly dipped onto the bed next to you, he was tense and his movements were awkward, but he eventually shuffled his head and body to lay down with his head nestled softly into your lap.

"Is this... okay?" he muttered it nervously, like he was scared the slightest movement would shatter everything around him. You looked down at him and gently kissed your fingers, pressing them against his lips in response. "Shh, rest my love, you need it." Just to further add to what you were saying you let your hand gently rub the outer ridge of his ear.

The blush eventually left his cheeks, the tensed muscles finally went lax and his breathing grew heavier and more unguarded, with a pleased hum from your lips you closed your eyes too and began to succumb to the sweet calling of slumber too.

As long as he has you, you will always be there to help[ him, he may be an adeptus, a yaksha, but you? He is just as human as you or anyone else. Wrath filled or not. He is and always will be your sweet little adeptus. Your perfect lover. Your Xiao.

Kaeya

Another late night and you sat cuddled up on the sofa scanning through several paintings, more specifically paintings that you had done over the course of several months. It was a hobby of yours, but with the aid of Albedo giving you tips and throwing you pointers here and there you'd become surprisingly good at it; who would've guessed you'd secretly be an artist in hiding? Not you that's for sure.

It was fun enough to help tide over the unsettling impatience that always started to bubble under your skin at least, specially on nights like this, where Kaeya, your boyfriend, who also happened to be the Calvary Captain for the Knights of Favonius was out at an ungodly late time, dealing with a suspicion of criminal activities, within the borders of Mondstadt.

He never broke his promises to you thus far, of which were he will always return safely home to you, but it never did fully destroy the raging thunder of worry that often seized your mind on a daily, who could blame you? The man was always in such dangerous predicaments. Who knew if this morning, or any morning for that matter, where you kissed him goodbye, would be the last time you ever would see his face when you waved him off?

It isn't his fault you know this, but you do wish that sometimes he would be cut slack, just a little, so you could for once not have to distract yourself with idle glances of your paintings while waiting for his return. If only every now and then Jean, The Acting Grand Master would just let him have a day off-

Click.

You jumped slightly upon hearing the noise of your front door not open, but actually close. Turning your head you saw Kaeya stood there, arms covering his chest in a crossed way, a raised brow prominent as he glared down at you. "How long have you been worrying?" His voice sounded so flat and monotone, almost a hint of exhaustion. Was he growing tired of your over worried nature?

"I... uh. uhm..." You were at a loss for words, how long had you been worrying exactly? Two, three hours now? You were unsure of the answer yourself. He shook his head and sighed out slowly, it was long and drawn out; he must be so tired from his work today, seeing you up at this hour acting like a child probably doesn't help his situation in the least.

You looked down sadly, feeling ashamed and guilty of yourself because you do this oh so often to him, he always prays your in bed, safely tucked up and lost in your own dreams before he gets home, but you never are, you're always awake and worried, your face far from the peaceful look he often daydreams you having.

"It doesn't matter anymore my little petal." He hums softly as he walks around the sofa to get within arms reach, crouching onto his own weight to scoop you up, your mind in shock you let the paintings slip from your grip and pool around the seat you were just in and the floor underneath you. "Whe- Kaeya?"

"Shh, it is time to head to the bedroom." He spoke so matter factually, which left you eyes wide and beet red, to which he glanced down and a smug chuckle slipped from him. "For sleep Y/N." You relaxed instantly, a sigh escaping you. "Unless of course, you want the other thing?" You squirmed, embarrassed beyond belief, he loved to teased you. "Quit it Kaeya!" You pouted at him, to which he just chuckled at lightly, planting a soft kiss on your head.

Once in the bedroom he drops you so you fall and sink into the softness of your mattress and covers, to which he joins you quickly after. Now both in bed he simply huffs as he turns and crawls around before you feel his head find its preferred resting place; your lap. You smile and gently chuckle. "May i?" He asks just a tad bit too late for permission.

"You're already laying there Kaeya, bit late for the formalities now." You roll your eyes and turn to blow the candle out, leaving you both in darkness and silence, just your soft and gentle breathing in unison as you stroke and massage his head, to which he groans gently in delight too. He is so sweet when he sleeps on your lap like this, you feel closer to him now than you ever normally do, unless you involve the factor of intimacy sexually.

Its calming and sweet, and it helps you remember that he will always keep his promise to you,

He will always come home safely.

149 notes · View notes

nsfwflint · 3 years

Text

Set Dressing

At long last, this piece has life. My first (and probably only) piece to ever break 10k. While I think this might be the hottest thing I've ever written, I really hope you all feel the same. Enjoy!

“Hold!”

With an exasperated sigh, you carefully hand your camera to your assistant. A cold breeze rolls over the rooftop as you slowly walk towards the uninvited guest. You take care not to startle them too much in order to avoid any accidents. As you cautiously inch towards them, you quietly hold your breath. Suddenly, they turn to you. Their dark eyes peer into your soul before quickly flying off, leaving a single black feather fluttering to the ground. With a deep exhale, you turn back to the jankiest set you’ve ever used for a photoshoot and see one of the models’ heads follow the crow as she watches it fly off.

“Man, I hate crows.” You mutter to yourself as you walk back towards your assistant.

“Don’t crows usually fly in a flock? I don’t like that we only had a single crow, it’s creepy.” Ken shudders.

“It’s a murder of crows. They’re probably too busy fighting with cats at a dumpster somewhere.” You joke.

While your assistant looks at you with a confused stare, you hear a small chuckle nearby. Remembering why you’re up here, you turn to the reason you’re on the rooftop to begin with. Turning to the two models, you give them a friendly smile. The one with lighter brown hair smiles back at you, as the one with long black hair continues to distractedly wander around the rooftop looking at random things.

“Sorry about that girls. Ken’s not really the fun type. Let’s continue shall we.” You say, giving the girls a playful wink as Ken hands you your camera.

“We have names, you know. I’m Seungyeon and this is Bora.” The one with shoulder length hair says.

“I know you have names; I just didn’t know what they were.” You admit.

You turn back to the pair of beautiful women in front of you and resume taking pictures. This is without a doubt the most confusing photoshoot you’ve done in your entire career. With everything being thrown together at the last moment, the entire situation is just a mess. The only thing all companies involved told you was “crop tops on rooftops.” So here you are in the beginning of winter, doing a photoshoot on the top of your building only a few feet away from your rooftop apartment because you couldn’t get any other location in such short notice.

Seungyeon’s dark leather jacket does nothing to cover her lethal curves. Her delicious cleavage peeking through, you desperately wish that you were the black sports bra tightly hugging her chest. Although you’d also settle for the black mesh shorts clinging to her sculpted thighs. With a confident smile, Seungyeon brushes a strand of her shoulder length light brown hair behind her ear.

“All right, that’s good for now Seungyeon. The companies wanted you to be more on the serious side, but don’t worry. That last one was an amazing smile.” You say, making a mental note to take that shot out for yourself later.

As Seungyeon nods and walks away from the small portion you have sectioned off as the set, you think you see a faint blush creep upon her cheeks. Before you can say anything else, Bora steps confidently into the set and blows you away. The intense presence she’s showing now is wildly different than the one she had a few minutes ago wandering around like a toddler. Now she’s standing here with a fatally sexy gaze in a pure white outfit the complete opposite of Seungyeon’s. Almost as if nature is responding to Bora’s whims, a soft wind blows her long black hair as her white blazer billows behind her. A tight white crop top clings to her sizable tits for dear life as it simultaneously reveals her toned stomach. Her white pants hide her legs, but you suspect her thighs are just as delectable as Seungyeon’s.

“Fantastic. All right, now together. That’s it, pose just like that.” You say, motioning for Seungyeon to join Bora on the set.

The two women pose as you shower their bodies in a barrage of camera flashes, you can’t help but admire their incredible bodies. While their outfits accentuate their figures, the color schemes provide a stark contrast, which you suppose is the point of the shoot. As your camera hungrily tries to capture every part of the scene in front of you, you realize the two beauties are similar with how everything about them just screams sexual charisma. The air of confidence they have is so intense, it’s almost suffocating. You can feel the absolute self-assurance they have in their sexuality even through the lens. For a quick second you get distracted and wonder how many men they have wrapped around their fingers. As you begin to lose yourself in taking pictures of the beautiful women, your assistant calls your name and snaps you back to reality.

“What?” You ask crankily.

“I have to leave now. Will you be okay by yourself?”

“Oh, is it that time already?” You ask, looking at your watch. “I guess it is. Yeah, I’ll be fine. Have a good night Ken.”

Ken nods politely before gathering his stuff and leaving. You take a few more pictures before deciding that you have enough for the day. As you plug the camera’s memory card into your nearby laptop, you turn back to the women.

“All right girls. You’re done for now. I’m going to go through the photos if you want to join me, maybe tell me which ones you like and dislike.” You say as you sit down at the nearby table.

“Whose apartment is that anyway?” Bora asks, pointing at the small room nearby.

“Mine.” You reply as you scroll through the hundreds of pictures you’ve taken.

“I see.” Bora mutters thoughtfully.

“So, what do you look for when you look for which ones to send back?” Seungyeon asks, sitting down next to you.

“Well, the first thing I do is go and delete all the ones that are no good. Shots with blinking or other accidents like that. Then I go through whatever correspondence I’ve received from the company telling me what they’re aiming for and compare what I have to what they’re looking for. After that it’s all just personal preference honestly.”

“I see.” Seungyeon nods as she leans closer to you to see the screen better.

As she stares at the screen, Seungyeon puts her arm on your shoulder. You swallow nervously as you try to ignore her breast lightly pressing against your arm. Glancing out of the corner of your eye, you see her gaze focused intently on the countless pictures on the computer screen. Seungyeon turns to you, and after a moment of brief but intense eye contact, blushes and pulls away from you slightly.

“So, this photoshoot was pretty last minute. What is it for anyway, if you don’t mind my asking?” You ask, trying to distract yourself.

“It’s a teaser for our upcoming collaboration.” Bora responds absentmindedly, looking at the nearby birds again.

“Bora! That’s supposed to be a secret!” Seungyeon exclaims.

“Is it? I don’t really think so. He’ll find out sooner or later anyway. Besides, it’s not like you’re going to leak the news or anything, right oppa?” Bora says as she sits next to you, leaning forward and exposing her heavenly cleavage.

“It’s not my news to tell, so I definitely don’t plan on it. Besides, part of being a photographer in this industry is keeping secrets like this.” You answer quickly.

Feeling your face grow hot as you’re surrounded by the two beauties, you nervously glance around and suddenly realize that it’s only the three of you on the rooftop.

“Where did all your staff go? You had managers and stylists here a little bit ago.” You ask anxiously.

“Yeah. We don’t have anything else scheduled though and they were going to give us free time anyway, we just convinced them to leave early.” Seungyeon says as she takes over scrolling through the pictures.

“Ah I see.”

“Bora, I’m looking at these and they’re really good, but I think maybe we can get some better ones if we do some changes, don’t you think?” Seungyeon turns to Bora with a twinkle in her eye.

“I totally agree. We should make those changes and have our new friend take some more.” Bora nods.

“Yeah I can do that.”

You stand up and start readying your camera as the girls return towards the set.

“Are you guys going to call your stylists back or wha- “

The question comes to a screeching halt as your voice dies in your throat when you turn to see the two gorgeous women have stripped down completely. A gentle breeze caresses every delicate curve of their bodies. It must have been a cold breeze, because both sets of nipples are now puffy and erect. Blood rushes throughout your body as you stare at every part on display. Two giant racks of delectable breasts that you want to dive into, four pillowy thighs that you could die between, two beautiful pussies you’d penetrate in a heartbeat and two perfectly toned stomachs to bridge them all together. You feel your penis rapidly stiffen in your pants as your eyes wander up and down their magnificent bodies.

“I uh,” you clear your throat nervously, trying to focus your mind enough to form a coherent sentence. “I don’t think this is a good idea. We could all get into a lot of trouble for this.”

“I think it’s fine. Don’t you Seungyeon?” Bora asks with a mischievous smile.

“Absolutely. I mean it’d be crazy to say no, right? How often would a highly skilled and talented professional photographer be able to take pictures of two gorgeous women in the nude?” Seungyeon agrees playfully.

You’re sure that they could get any photographer to take photos like that of them any day of the week. You know that they’re just buttering you up to do their bidding. The problem is that it is working. Because as manipulative as it is, Seungyeon is right. While they might be able to get it done any time they want, when would be the next time that you’d be able to take pictures like that? Gulping nervously, you bring your camera up to your face and start frantically snapping pictures. You don’t know when they’ll tell you to stop so you want to capture as many as you can.

“Good boy. Now what do you say we give him the photoshoot of a lifetime?” Bora asks Seungyeon.

“I’d say that we wouldn’t be very good models if we didn’t.” Seungyeon nods thoughtfully.

The two women start posing, eagerly showing off their spectacular bodies for you. Even if you didn’t have the camera to immortalize this moment, there’s no way you’ll ever forget this. With every click of the camera, you engrain the image of every one of their immaculate curves into your brain forever. You couldn’t be more thankful as the rosy sunset begins to fall upon you, further accenting the already beautiful view. A series of never-ending flashes illuminate their perfect figures, the camera almost as hungry for their bodies as you are. Your cock is so erect that it’s starting to hurt with how hard it’s pressing against your jeans.

What starts as generic poses quickly turns even more erotic as Bora pulls Seungyeon’s body against hers. As both of their sizable chests press against each other, you desperately wish you could dive in and taste every inch of their delicious breasts. You lick your lips as you watch Bora’s hand travel down Seungyeon’s flawless skin and start squeezing her perfect ass. Your cock throbs in your pants as you capture a picture of the most intense eye contact you’ve ever seen. The eye contact between Bora and Seungyeon is so fiery and lustful that you wonder if you’d survive being on the receiving end of it. After several seconds, Bora finally breaks eye contact and turns to you.

“Make sure to capture every second.” She says with a teasing smile.

Before you can reply that you already are, Bora turns back and aggressively sticks her tongue into Seungyeon’s mouth. Soft whimpers escape from Seungyeon as Bora swirls her tongue around her mouth. Bora’s fingers slowly creep off of Seungyeon’s ass to in between Seungyeon’s thighs. Seungyeon’s moans gradually get louder as Bora starts stroking her pussy. Watching their tongues entwine and rub against each other, you desperately want to join in. As you continue taking in the scene unfolding in front of you, you can no longer stop yourself. While you somehow manage to continue taking pictures with one hand, the other slips down your waist band. Watching the two gorgeous women engage in their passionate kiss, you slowly start stroking your cock in your pants. Finally, Bora breaks away from the kiss with another moan from Seungyeon.

“It’s starting to get a little cold. Maybe we should move to a more suitable indoor location. Good thing there’s an apartment nearby, right?” Bora teases.

With no other words needing to be spoken, you quickly run over to your apartment and unlock the door. No sooner is the door open than the girls sprint inside. For a brief second, the inner professional in you wants to break down the rest of your equipment and set it up inside. Thankfully you quickly realize how much time and mood that would kill and you follow them inside. Barely inside the small space you call your living room, Bora and Seungyeon have immediately resumed their lustful kiss. Seungyeon’s hands squeeze Bora’s ass as Bora vigorously gropes Seungyeon’s tits. You quickly return to the situation you were just in, taking pictures with one hand and stroking your cock inside your pants with the other.

One of Bora’s hands slowly slides down and begins stroking Seungyeon’s pussy again. Despite already being extremely lustful, somehow their kiss gets even more intense. Their tongues swirling around each other rapidly, they slowly sink to their knees. Seungyeon yelps as Bora sticks two fingers inside her cunt. Bora slowly pulls her fingers out until just her fingertips are inside Seungyeon before pushing them back in. Between their entwining tongues and her moans, drool starts to fall from the corner of Seungyeon’s mouth.

Bora gradually speeds up her fingers as Seungyeon’s hands leave Bora’s ass and move to her arms. Seungyeon grips Bora’s shoulders roughly as fluids from her pussy drip onto Bora’s fingers. The faster Bora thrusts her fingers into Seungyeon, the more her palm loudly slaps against Seungyeon’s pussy. Seungyeon’s loud moans fill the room and you begin to wonder how soundproof your apartment is. You suddenly realize how hard you’re stroking your cock to this titillating scene and make a conscious effort to slow down.

Finally, Bora breaks the kiss one last time as she withdraws her fingers from Seungyeon’s pussy. Seeing Seungyeon’s current state arouses you in a way you’ve never felt before. It’s abundantly clear that Bora has hit all the right spots and flipped some sort of switch in Seungyeon. Her sexual confidence fading away, Seungyeon pants heavily as she tries to catch her breath. As you stare at the moaning mess that she’s become, your dick throbs violently in your hand. Bora looks over to you and gives you a mischievous smile.

“Oh my. Look at how hard he’s gotten, Seungyeon. It must be really difficult for him to focus on our pictures like that. We should help him with that.” She teases.

At the apparent thought of being able to control you, Seungyeon’s confidence returns as she and Bora slowly crawl towards you. As the two naked women make their way over to you, your dick twitches in your pants. You take your hand out of your pants just before they arrive. As soon as they reach you, Seungyeon’s confidence has fully returned and she aggressively tears your pants down. Your erect dick springs out and they both have a brief moment of astonishment before looking up at you and smiling.

“I didn’t realize you were this hard.” Seungyeon says as she stares at your shaft.

“I knew he was packing from seeing his pants during the photoshoot earlier, but I didn’t know it was this impressive either.” Bora nods.

They each bite their lips seductively as they look up into your eyes. Your dick twitches from the sexual charisma dripping off of their bodies. With a smile they both turn their attention to your throbbing erection.

Every time you think these girls have shown you heaven, they up the ante. The sight of the two beautiful women kneeling before you drives you crazy and your cock twitches in anticipation. They gently blow onto your dick and revel in your expressions. Their breathing lightly tickles your shaft as they take their time to tease you. You must have finally made a face they like because they both start licking the sides of your cock. Realizing the chance in front of you, you position the camera overhead and click the button; the bright flash illuminating the two women licking your shaft. As they pepper your dick with kisses, you place the camera down on a nearby table and let yourself get lost in the pleasure.

You let out a soft groan as Seungyeon and Bora’s tongues travel along your throbbing cock. Their soft tongues glide up and down your shaft, gripping it tightly. A trail of warm spit trails behind their tongues as Seungyeon’s head moves towards your tip and Bora’s moves toward your balls. Bora is the first to arrive as she plants soft kisses at the base of your dick before moving to your sack. You barely have time to register the sensation of her tongue rubbing against your balls before Seungyeon takes your tip into her mouth. Her soft tongue wraps around your tip, the moist cavern of her mouth constricting as she sucks on your cock. The immense pleasure catches you off guard and you stagger backwards slightly, catching your balance on the nearby table; almost knocking your camera off of it. Displeased by the difference in reactions, you can feel Bora’s lips frown against your dick as she slowly kisses and licks her way back up to your shaft.

“Oh fuck.” You grunt as you tighten your grip on the table.

As Seungyeon continues to messily slurp on your tip, Bora slides her tongue up and down the underside of your shaft. Clearly not wanting to wait for her turn, Bora lightly pushes Seungyeon aside and your tip leaves Seungyeon’s mouth with an audible pop. Bora instantly seizes the opportunity she made for herself, practically inhaling you as she takes your dick into her mouth. Seungyeon frowns, but you’re barely able to see it before Bora starts sucking so hard that your vision blurs. Her head rapidly bobs up and down, the moist walls of her mouth constricting and pressuring your dick. You can feel Bora’s warm drool drowning your dick in pleasure as Bora continues to aggressively suck and slurp on your cock.

“Holy shit Bora.” You moan as you stagger again.

“That’s not fair! I wasn’t finished with him!” Seungyeon whines as she pulls Bora off of your cock.

“Well, you were hogging the good stuff.” Bora retorts.

You’re surprised at their grade school argument when you realize what you might miss out on if they keep arguing.

“Listen, we’re all here now to have a good time. If we want this to work, we all need to work together.” You say, desperately trying to keep them from arguing.

“He’s absolutely right Seungyeon. We need to work together.” Bora nods before winking at Seungyeon.

“Exactly, let’s show him just how well we can do that.” Seungyeon smiles.

With a smug confidence, they both raise themselves slightly before they sandwich their tits around your cock. You’ve never gotten a titfuck before, but you’ve heard it is the softest thing ever. As you find yourself buried between mountains of pillowy flesh, you have to say you agree. Bora and Seungyeon smirk as you feel the warmth of their heavenly breasts slowly enveloping your shaft. The tip of your dick barely peeking out of their wondrous valleys, they slowly start rubbing their tits up and down your shaft.

You feel their stiff nipples rub against your shaft every few strokes or so as they continue squishing their breasts against your dick. The soft sensation of their silky skin pressing against your shaft slowly starts pushing you to your limits. Just when you think it couldn’t possibly feel any better, Bora gives you a seductive smile before slowly spitting onto your cock. A long strand of spit glistens as it descends onto your tip. Your tip twitches at the sight of Bora’s spit pooling into their combined cleavage. One thing that is quickly becoming apparent is that Bora is a master of the art of the tease. Everything she does is deliberate and measured, from her sultry gazes to the slow speed of her tits stroking against your penis.

Seungyeon on the other hand, doesn’t seem to care about teasing you at all. While she goes along with Bora’s slower strokes, you can tell that Seungyeon doesn’t like it. Giving you the same intense gaze as Bora, you can see in Seungyeon’s eyes that she just wants to get you off as fast as possible. Which makes you conflicted; as much as you don’t want to be teased, you still want this to last as long as possible. However, you quickly find yourself freed from idle thought as Seungyeon takes her turn to spit on your dick. Their perfect breasts find themselves slipping and stroking your cock faster than before now that it’s covered with spit.

“Fuck baby, that feels so good.” You moan under your breath.

“I know.” Bora and Seungyeon reply simultaneously before frowning at each other.

“Clearly he meant me, with how slow you’re trying to make us go.” Seungyeon says.

“I can guarantee that I’m making him feel better than you are.” Bora sneers.

“Who were you calling baby?” They ask at the same time, turning to look at you.

The only thing you manage to reply with is a blank stare. Because you honestly don’t know. While you’re afraid that it might ruin everything, your silence thankfully has the opposite effect. You can see the competitive fire in their eyes intensify and their titfuck increases to breakneck speeds. Their sizable breasts now slick from their spit, their slippery strokes quickly push you to your limit. As they squeeze their tits closer together, you lose yourself in the pleasure of their soft skin. While they’re clearly competing for some form of your affection, the only thing you’re able to think of is the heavenly ecstasy as your tip peeks through the valley of their giant breasts.

Just when you think you couldn’t possibly feel any better, the girls prove you wrong once again. As if planned, both of them lean down and start licking the tip of your dick. Their warm tongues dance around your cock, swirling and stroking around your tip. It doesn’t take long before their tongues start rubbing against each other as well as your dick. Their breasts continue to squeeze against your shaft, rapidly stroking it up and down. The spit from their mouths pours over your tip as they massage it with their tongues.

"Fuck. Fuck, just like that. You both feel so good."

As you watch their efforts to please you intensify, you wonder if your moans even register in their ears. Their pillow breasts continue to rapidly push up and down your shaft, aided by the saliva dripping into their cleavage. The warmth of their soft tongues drives you further to the edge as they dance and swirl around the tip of your dick. Bora and Seungyeon begin taking turns between sucking your cock and spitting on it. The tender flesh of their mouths drives you to an ecstasy you didn't know existed. If this is how good their breasts feel, how amazing will actual sex with them be? The thought is quickly interrupted as Seungyeon gives your dick an audible slurp before releasing your tip from her mouth with a loud pop. Their soft tits continue to aggressively push against your cock. Just when you wonder how much longer you’ll be able to endure their heavenly tits, you feel a familiar tightness in your balls as your tip begins to swell.

“I’m going to- “

Thick streams of cum erupt out of your tip before you can even finish your sentence. The orgasmic bliss is so overwhelmingly intense, your eyes close involuntarily. When you finally open your eyes again, the sight of Bora and Seungyeon is burned into your brain. As the tip of your cock peeks out of their combined cleavage, your seed is plastered onto their faces as well as the top of their heavenly tits. The intense eye contact of the girls is replaced by looks of surprise as they��re shocked by the amount of cum you unloaded onto their bodies.

“Everybody needs to clean up.” Seungyeon muses, staring at your sticky semen caking their bodies.

“One second.” You mutter before turning to the nearby table.

Your heart skips a nervous beat when you notice your camera is now halfway off the opposite edge of the table. All of your staggering and pulling on the table to keep your balance through the immense pleasure must have made your camera shake all the way across the table. Quickly getting your bearings so you don’t kill too much time, you reach over and manage to grab your camera without moving your legs. Aiming downwards, a bright light flashes quickly and the scene of two women sandwiching your dick between your tits and covered in your cum is forever immortalized. You turn and place the camera back down as you pant heavily in an attempt to recover quickly. After kindly giving you the time to take the picture, Seungyeon leans in and licks the cum off of Bora’s tits, slowly making her way up Bora’s neck. Right as Seungyeon licks the last bit off of Bora’s cheek, Bora takes her turn lapping your semen off of Seungyeon’s body.

“That’s no fair, that’s mine.” Seungyeon frowns.

“Is that so? You can have it then.”

With your cum still pooled on her tongue, Bora leans in and sticks her tongue into Seungyeon’s mouth again. As their tongues rub and circle against each other, you can see faint traces of your cum pouring from Bora’s mouth into Seungyeon’s and back. While you were worried about not being able to continue after cumming, their lustful cum swapping kiss has eased all your concerns. You’ve never wanted anything more than to fill their bodies to the absolute brink with your cum. Bora pulls away from the kiss and smirks as your cock throbs violently in their collective cleavage.

“Look at how hard he is again already. I know how much you want to fuck him, so I’ll let you have him first.” Bora chuckles.

“W-what? I don’t know what you mean.” Seungyeon stutters slightly.

“It’s written all over your face. It’s much better to just be honest.” Bora says as she slips two of her fingers back inside Seungyeon’s pussy.

Bora’s fingering is more intense than the last time, her palm loudly slapping against Seungyeon’s silky flesh. Seungyeon slinks backwards, her arms holding her up as Bora continues to thrust her fingers in and out of Seungyeon’s cunt. You slowly stroke your cock and watch as glistening juices splash out of Seungyeon’s pussy. After a few moments of nonstop intense fingering, Bora finally slides her fingers out of Seungyeon.

"Show him your ass." Bora commands.

Seungyeon immediately drops on all fours, her voluptuous ass presented to you in glorious fashion. It seems like she's compliant with every order that would bring her the sexual satisfaction she's craving right now. She turns around and stares into your eyes, silently begging you to fuck the shit out of her. Bora gives both of you another satisfied smirk as she sees the lustful eye contact between you and Seungyeon.

“See? He wants you too. Just tell him what you want, Seungyeon.” Bora teases, her voice dripping with sultry provocation.

“Please, fuck me with your hard cock. I need you to fuck me and fill me with your cum.” Seungyeon begs needily.

As you stare into her eyes, you can tell it isn’t just generic dirty talk and placating. You can see the hunger in her gaze, her body trembling as it craves your cock. Sweet juices visibly drip down her thighs as she desperately pleads for you to fuck her. Her eyes cloud with a lust so powerful you can feel it in the air. Everything about the situation told you what she was saying was true. Seungyeon didn’t just want your cock inside her, she needed it. Which is perfect, because you need to be inside her just as bad. Kneeling behind her entrance, you slowly rub your tip up and down against her wet pussy. Your tip becomes drenched with her fluids as she lets out a series of whimpering moans.

“Please stop teasing me. I need you inside me so bad. Just fuck me until I pass out.” Seungyeon pleads.

While you want to tease her all night, the fact remains that you’re craving her body as much as she’s craving yours. You slowly slide your tip inside her cunt, the intense pressure from her walls almost forces you to almost cum right away. The two of you share a pleasured exhale as you stop inserting your dick to allow both of your time to adjust. Staring into the wanton lust in her eyes, you forget the world around you. While this definitely isn’t going to be gentle love making, you still want time to get used to each other. After all, it doesn’t do anyone any good if you both cum too fast.

“That’s a good girl. See how much better it is when you’re honest?” Bora says with a mischievous smile.

Reality comes crashing back to you as Bora pushes you forward, your dick suddenly plunging into the deepest parts of Seungyeon’s pussy. Seungyeon takes you all the way to the hilt, your tip slamming against the entrance to her womb as her plump ass ripples against you. Her velvety walls devour your cock with an intense heat and it takes every fiber of your body not to cum immediately. Seungyeon lets out a deafening moan that shows she’s just as caught off guard by the sudden pleasure as you are.

“What the fuck Bora?” Seungyeon snaps as she tries to catch her breath.

“You guys need to speed it up a little. We only have tonight and I want to make sure I get my turn.” Bora replies matter-of-factly.

Before Seungyeon can protest anymore, the intoxicating heat of her cunt squeezing your dick flips a switch inside you. Initially willing to start slow in order to savor the experience, you quickly find yourself growing obsessed wtih the velvety flesh constricting your cock. Seungyeon’s eyes widen as your hips start thrusting as if they have a mind of their own. Small moans start making their way out of her mouth as you lose yourself in her body with every thrust. Your frantic slams into her cunt grow increasingly more aggressive. The tip of your dick rams into the deepest part of her velvety pussy.

“Oh fuck. That’s it, just like that. Keep fucking me just like that.” Seungyeon moans, her lustful screams filling your small apartment.

You’re thankful that she likes the way you’re fucking her, because you no longer have any control over your body. Her silky walls tighten around your cock, tightly gripping you as you pierce into the depths of her heavenly flesh. You find yourself consumed by lust, an overwhelming hunger on your skin that tells you that you need to be inside of her. The sight of her voluptuous ass cheeks heaving and rippling with every thrust only intensifies that urge even more. Seungyeon’s lustful moans pierce your ears as her ass crashes against your waist.

Seungyeon’s face quickly contorts from ecstasy, overcome by the pleasure you’re both drowning in. Her whiny moans flow endlessly, her mouth open so long she starts to drool. Losing yourselves into your mutual lust, Seungyeon starts throwing her hips back, timing her own thrusts to match your own. The sight of her ass cheeks jiggling wildly triggers something inside of you. You raise your hand and deliver a hard slap to her ass, her cheek rippling against your palm.

"Oh FUCK yes. Slap me harder daddy." Seungyeon screams.

You briefly pause your thrusts as Seungyeon turns to look at you. A second of silence passes as you stare at each other, both of you bewildered by what just came out of her mouth.

"Oh he likes that." Bora giggles.

"What? I-" You try to defend yourself as words escape you.

"Please I saw your face when she said it. Don't bother denying it." Bora teases.

While you want to deny it, you know you can't. You've never had someone call you that before, but as soon as the words escaped Seungyeon, it woke something inside of you. You do want her to call you that again, but you aren't sure how to tell her. Thankfully Seungyeon solves that problem for you.

"Hurry up and fuck my pussy daddy." Seungyeon moans.

Never one to deny the request of a beautiful woman, you immediately plunge your cock into her depths again. Your violent thrusts quickly return as the heat of her cunt radiates along your shaft. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Bora masturbating nearby. Her fingers circle her clit as she watches your dick piston away inside her friend. The sight makes your dick throb, but your focus is quickly redirected as Seungyeon throws her hips back again. Equal parts thankful and upset that Seungyeon took your focus off Bora, you decide to discipline her for it.

Raising your hand, you bring it down and aggressively slap her ass, this time harder than before. Her ass ripples delightfully against your palm. You give her ass a rough squeeze as you continue to pound away at her wet cunt. Her silky ass cheeks jiggling against your fingertips fuels your never ending lust for her even more. As Seungyeon’s whimpers and moans overload your ears, you give her ass another firm slap. Seeing that her voluptuous cheeks are beginning to grow red, you start to worry until Seungyeon moans again.

"FUCK yes. Just like that. Fucking ruin my pussy daddy." Seungyeon screams, her velvety walls gripping your shaft tighter with every slap.

You lose yourself in the heat of her velvety cunt, frantically slamming your dick away at her womb. Seungyeon’s supple ass jiggles against your palms as you continue to give her cheeks hard slaps. Slick fluids drip from her cunt as your hands repeatedly strike her ass. Her pussy clenches tighter around your shaft with every slap. Alternating which ass cheek you slap drives both of you to the brink of ecstasy.

"Do you like when I slap your ass like this?" You growl, relishing her soft skin rippling against your fingers as you strike her ass.

"Yes. It feels so good." Seungyeon moans.

"Yes what?"

"Yes daddy I do. Please keep fucking me." Seungyeon groans as she frantically throws her hips back against you.

"Why should I?" You ask in a harsh voice, somehow managing to stop your thrusts again.

“Because I've been a bad girl. I've been a bad girl and need to be punished." Seungyeon whines, squirming desperately on your dick.

"Then I guess I need to punish you." You grunt as you give her ass another rough smack.

Your aggressive pounding quickly returns as you slam your dick inside Seungyeon. Her slick walls vigorously grip your cock, lustfully tugging on your shaft with every thrust. As you piston your dick inside her cunt, you continue to meet her ass cheeks with a barrage of smacks and squeezes. Another sound catches your and you turn to see Bora again. You lock eyes with Bora as she furiously masturbates while watching you rail on Seungyeon. Bora’s fingers rapidly go in and out of her pussy as she squeezes and fondles her own tits with her free hand. Both of their moans mingle together as all of you continue your journey to ecstasy.

"Fuck her just like that. Don't stop." Bora moans as she fingers her pussy with an intense vigor.

Bora’s commands are almost hypnotic. Even if you wanted to stop, you wouldn't be able to. Her voice is so sensual and alluring that you don't think any mortal could refuse her. But thankfully you're planning on continuing what you were doing anyway. You continue relentlessly piercing your dick into Seungyeon, her silky skin crashing against your body.

"God you're so fucking good." Seungyeon gasps between moans.

"Do you like how he fucks you?" Bora asks in a tone that's half teasing, half curiosity.

"YES. He's better than anyone else I've ever fucked." Seungyeon screams as you time your thrusts with her answers.

“Talking about other partners while you’re being fucked? Aren’t you a little slut.” Bora chuckles.

“Yes, I’m a slut. I’m a dirty slut and I need to be punished.” Seungyeon moans, her walls eagerly constricting your dick.

"She said it herself. Daddy's little whore needs to be punished. Keep pounding that tight little pussy." Bora says, somehow managing a demanding tone while moaning.

Despite the fact that you definitely didn't need Bora to tell you that, you follow her orders and continue your violent thrusting into Seungyeon. Seungyeon’s perfect ass jiggles rapidly as your bodies continue to crash against each other with a frantic rhythm. As your dick penetrates into her depths, you wonder how you'll ever have satisfying sex again after this. The heat of Seungyeon’s walls pulls you back to reality.

Seungyeon’s slick warmth pulsates along your shaft. Every thrust inside feels like a dream that you never want to wake up from. Before tonight you never would have described sex as a reality altering event, but that's exactly what sex with Seungyeon is. The sensual curves of her tanned skin ripple against your animalistic thrusts, fueling the never ending hunger you've developed for Seungyeon’s body.

“God you’re so fucking tight Seungyeon. Do you like being punished like this?” You grunt, your cock aggressively slamming in and out of her tight snatch.

“Yes, you feel so good when you punish me. Please punish me daddy.” Seungyeon begs as she thrusts her hips back against you.

“You heard the girl. Hit her.” Bora orders you, failing to hide the moans in her own voice as she continues to rapidly finger herself.

As you raise your hand again, you notice that both Seungyeon’s ass cheeks and your palms are both bright red. Having a small bit of mercy, you decide to ease up. However if you're only going to do one more slap, you're going to make it a good one. You raise both hands before bringing them both down on her ass cheeks harder than you have all night. Seungyeon’s body ripples wildly against you as her arms slip. With Seungyeon now resting on her elbows, you find yourself slightly deeper than before. Seungyeon feels it too, unleashing a moan so loud her others seem like whispers.

"Oh fuck." Seungyeon screams, her lustful shrieks piercing your ears.

Your fingers dig into her silky flesh, roughly squeezing Seungyeon’s ass as you ram your dick against her womb. Her soft skin slips between the cracks of your fingers, bright red from your assault on her ass. Moans from all three of you meld into an erotic harmony that just enhances the experience even more. As your dick pierces and scrapes Seungyeon’s velvety cavern, you end up squeezing her ass so hard your knuckles turn white. With every wild thrust, her voluptuous ass ripples against your skin. While you could savor this sensation forever, your hands grab her hips so you can watch her plump ass jiggle freely. Which is exactly what it does. Her supple cheeks heave and undulate wildly as you violently pump your cock in and out of her tight cunt.

“God you’re so fucking amazing Seungyeon. You feel so incredible.” You grunt, aggressively slamming your cock inside her.

Gripping Seungyeon’s hips, you vigorously ram your dick against her womb. As you piston in her cunt, you notice her sizable tits heaving and jiggling from behind. A part of her body that you were lusting for earlier, but have uncharacteristically ignored since you started. You lick your lips at the thought of indulging yourself in her breasts. Without warning, you pull your cock out of Seungyeon’s cunt and flip her over.

"Get on your back," You growl.

Seungyeon quickly obliges, laying on her back as you dive on top of her. In the maybe thirty seconds your dick was out of her pussy, you immediately start craving the heat of her tight cavern. You aggressively slam your dick back into her depths. If you're missing the feeling of being inside Seungyeon after not even a minute, how will you ever adjust to life after tonight?

Seungyeon’s moans begin to overwhelm every other sound in the apartment again. Her giant breasts heave up and down, bouncing wildly as your tip continues to violently kiss the entrance of her womb. You take the moment to savor the sight before you. Seungyeon’s perfect sweat-glistening body crashing and rippling as you plunge your dick as deep as you possibly can inside her. Your dick starts to throb and you know you'll be reaching the end soon.

"I'm going to cum soon Seungyeon." You groan through your primal thrusts.

"Me too. Keep fucking me just like this. I want to cum all over your dick daddy." Seungyeon’s erotic screams bounce off the walls.

Seungyeon’s moans stop as Bora suddenly straddles her face. You’re so surprised by her appearance that you temporarily stop thrusting. As Seungyeon’s walls constrict and pulsate along your shaft, the only thing you can do is stare at Bora, surprised.

“Well, you guys were having all the fun and I didn’t want to be left out.” Bora shrugs as she starts grinding her pussy along Seungyeon’s mouth.

As if turned on by Bora’s cunt on her face, Seungyeon’s walls clamp around your dick. The intense pleasure reminding you why you’re here, your hips begin thrusting with a mind of their own again. Your dick hungers for the velvety grip of her walls, relentlessly pounding away at Seungyeon’s womb. The sensation of her body trembling and rippling against yours is a feeling you’ll end up craving for the rest of your life. Despite being muffled by Bora’s cunt, you can still hear Seungyeon’s moans as you aggressively pierce into her depths.

Bora’s moans raise an octave as you watch Seungyeon’s tongue attack Bora’s folds. Seungyeon’s cunt tightens as she continues to lick and nibble on every part of Bora’s pussy. Watching Bora writhe in pleasure on Seungyeon’s face intensifies your thrusts. The sight of Bora sensually running her hand through her hair in tandem with her erotic moans is one of the sexiest things you’ve seen. Seungyeon’s tongue must have hit the spot as Bora releases a pleasured squeal. Bora’s hands reach down, swatting away your own as she takes her turn to squeeze Seungyeon’s tits. Her palms cover Seungyeon’s nipples, her fingers sinking into Seungyeon’s flesh as Bora grinds and rubs her cunt into Seungyeon’s face.

Watching Bora fondle Seungyeon’s tits makes your animalistic pounding continue to achieve an ecstasy you've never felt before. Seungyeon’s body glistening with sweat as it ripples and crashes against your cock is the hottest thing you've ever laid eyes on. Every thrust makes you more addicted to Seungyeon. Every second you spend slamming your dick inside her fuels your lustful madness. Finally the most mind blowing sex you've ever had approaches its finale as your balls tense. A thought crosses your mind and you immediately meet Bora’s eyes.

"Get off of her. I want to see her face when I cum inside her." You demand.

Bora gives you a smile, apparently satisfied with your commanding tone. Lifting her cunt off of Seungyeon’s face, Bora moves to the side and watches you. Seungyeon’s relentless moans immediately return. You somehow manage to restrain yourself and stop thrusting. Seungyeon looks at you, her eyes a mixture of confusion and begging.

"Why did you stop?" Seungyeon whines.

"I want you to beg me for it."

"Please fuck me daddy. I need you to finish fucking my pussy. Hurry up and fuck the shit out of me." Seungyeon pleads.

In an ideal world, you might have been able to tease Seungyeon longer, but in reality your body quickly betrays you. No longer able to hold back your thrusts, you immediately resume pounding away at her womb. Her tight walls constrict your shaft as your dick pistons in and out of her. The velvety cavern grips and tugs your shaft. As that familiar tightness in your balls returns, you somehow manage to thrust harder than you ever have before. Your frantic slams pierce into her depths, the sounds of your bodies crashing and slapping against each other audible over Seungyeon’s moans for the first time all night.

"Beg for me to cum inside you."

"What? But I don't know-"

"Fine, I'll pull out then." You say reluctantly as you begin to withdraw your dick from her velvety walls.

Seungyeon’s eyes widen with surprise as she feels you begin to slide out of her. She instantly wraps her thick thighs around you, locking her ankles behind your back to pull you back in.

"No. No please don't. I want you to cum inside me. Please cum inside me. I need you to fill me up daddy." Seungyeon moans, begging at the top of her lungs with lustful screams.

Almost immediately after finishing her sentence, Seungyeon is struck by her own orgasm. Her body shudders violently, her hot cunt clamping around your shaft. Fluids run down your shaft as her orgasm reaches its peak. You manage to pierce into her depths with one final thrust as her orgasm rocks your body as well. The tip of your cock throbs as it slams against her womb, pouring a torrent of hot cum inside it. Your own body twitches as the last few streams of semen flood into her depths.

Both you and Seungyeon slowly recover from your orgasm. The apartment is silent apart from the heavy breathing as you both try to catch your breath. One minute passes. Then two. You don't know how long it is before you finally withdraw your cock from her cunt. Sitting on the floor with Seungyeon sprawled in front of you, you continue to take deep breaths when you suddenly feel an arm around you. Soft fingers quickly grip your shaft, giving your dick brisk strokes. Turning around, your eyes meet Bora’s as you feel her breasts pressing against your back.

"I hope you didn't forget about me. It's my turn now, and I'm nowhere near as easy as Seungyeon is. You better be ready for this." Bora says with an evil smile. If she wasn't so sexy right now, she'd be terrifying.

Despite the fact that you just had the most mind blowing sex of your life, you quickly find yourself hardening again. Soft groans escape your lips as Bora continues to tug on your dick. You have to hand it to Bora, she's an absolute master in the art of the tease. Knowing exactly when to speed up her strokes and when to come to a screeching halt. Her fingers continue their magic, skillfully building you to the point of pleasure before letting it begin to fade again.

As passionate groans escape your lips, you turn forward and look at Seungyeon again. Seungyeon lays in front of you, the only movement being her chest rising and falling from exhaustion. You look between her legs and see a thick white river slowly flowing out of her cunt. Between Bora’s masterful handjob and the sight of your cum pouring out of Seungyeon, you quickly find yourself ready for action again.

Your dick immediately misses the warmth of her hand as she spits on her palm. The warm lubrication makes an amazing handjob somehow even more incredible as Bora’s hand quickly glides up and down your shaft. She continues to alternate between fast paced strokes and her agonizingly slow pulls. Precum coats Bora’s fingers as she lightly twists her hand over your tip. Bora releases a small giggle as your dick throbs in her hand.

“If Seungyeon was awake she might be jealous of how hard you’re getting for me, you know.” Bora whispers teasingly into your ear.

“Good thing she isn’t awake then.” You groan.

“Oh ho. Maybe we should move a little so we don’t change that.” Bora whispers before playfully nibbling your ear.

Bora slowly stands up, pulling you with her with her hand never leaving your shaft.

“That’s a good boy. Over here now.” Bora whispers mischievously as she guides you across the room from behind.

You finally make it to the couch for the first time tonight when she stops you.

“This is good for now. You haven’t earned the right to sit down yet.” Bora giggles

Upon hearing that sentence, you realize she was right. Bora is definitely not going to be as easy as Seungyeon. You now understand that while you might have had control over Seungyeon, Bora is going to have complete control over you. The situation makes you shudder slightly, partially from excitement and partially from fear. Noticing your reaction, a devilish giggle makes its way past Bora’s lips as she immediately resumes her agonizing torment.

Continuing from where she left off before the move, Bora begins her rapid strokes on your cock again. Her soft breasts push against you even more, her stiff nipples poking into your back. A soft groan escapes you as her soft fingers quickly slide up and down your shaft. Bora gently blows on your ear before playfully nibbling it again. Gently pulling on your earlobe, her strokes gradually slow down again before releasing your cock entirely. She releases your ear as she brings her palm up, sensually licking her palm. Your dick twitches again as her moist grip returns on your shaft.

“Oh my. You’re throbbing an awful lot down there Mr. Photographer. Do you want to fuck me that bad?” Bora whispers, enjoying every second the hold her hellish teasing has on you.

“Yes I do.” You moan.

“Yes you do what?”

You blink a few times, perplexed by her question.

“I’m confused.” You admit.

“Well Seungyeon called you daddy, so what should you call me?” Bora asks teasingly.

Finally, it dawns on you.

“Yes I do want to fuck you that bad mommy.”

“I see. Unfortunately, you haven’t earned that yet. If you can endure this, I’ll give you your reward though.” Bora says, her happiness with the situation clearly reflected in her voice.

Her deft hand speeds up its strokes again, her wet fingers gliding up and down your shaft. The sound of her hand slapping against your waist fills the room, overpowering your shallow groans. Just when you think you might cave and blow your load, Bora’s strokes come to a screeching halt. Her fingers slowly inch their way up and down your dick, deliberate and measured to give you the perfect mix of pleasure and torture.

It doesn’t take long before Bora picks up the pace, rapidly rubbing her hand along your cock. You suddenly feel her other arm wrap around you as her fingers slowly glide up your chest. Once again, her hand slows to a crawl on your shaft. Suddenly, Bora’s fingers lightly flick one of your nipples. A surprised groan passes your lips. Apparently pleased with your reaction, Bora eagerly presses even closer against you. Your breathing quickly grows ragged from her constant change of pace.

You realize it isn’t just the change of pace that’s agonizing, it’s the change in pressure. Sometimes Bora roughly squeezes your shaft, sometimes it’s just a light slide up and down your cock. Bora has mastered the art of the tease so well, that you know this is going to be some of the best sex you’ve ever had. Her fingers continue to pinch and flick your nipples, teasing you with actions you want to do to her nipples. Picking up her speed once again, you wonder how much longer you’ll be able to hold out against her masterful handjob. Just as you fear you��re about to blow, Bora takes her hand off your cock entirely. Turning you around, she looks in your eyes with a glimmer of satisfaction.

“You didn’t cum. Good. Now we can start the real thing.” Bora smiles.

With a teasing smirk, she pushes you onto the couch. Before you even know what’s happening, Bora is immediately straddling your waist. Her pussy teasingly hovers over your cock, her moist lips lightly brushing against your tip. As much as you want to slam her down and thrust away, you know that letting Bora take control will please everyone a lot more.

“You look happy. Did you want mommy to ride you like this?” She teases

“Yes mommy I do.” You nod eagerly.

“For how long?”

“Since the second I first met you today.”

“Now, now. That’s a very naughty boy.” Bora smirks.

“Well in that case you should really punish me mommy.”

With another smile, Bora slams herself on top of you, your dick plunging into her depths. Both of you release a duet of lustful moans. While you thought Seungyeon was tight, she has nothing on Bora. Her tight walls devour your cock with such an intense heat, you have to try three times harder not to cum instantly than you did with Seungyeon. You can feel every fiber in your body clench as you struggle not to give in and explode right away. As you desperately try to control your breathing, Bora notices your condition right away once again.

“I’m impressed. Most men end up cumming right away.” Bora muses.

“Well mommy wouldn’t like that would she?” You grunt.

“No, no she wouldn’t. But I hope you’re ready. We’re going all out from the start.” Bora declares

True to her word, Bora immediately starts bouncing up and down on your dick. Her juicy thighs ripple against your own as she lustfully rides you. Your tip slams mercilessly against her womb. While Bora’s body crashes aggressively onto your cock, you can’t help but stare as her tantalizing tits bounce hypnotically. As they teasingly dance up and down in front of your face, you can’t take it anymore. Desperate to experience their taste, you lunge towards them. Before you can get there, Bora slaps her palm against your forehead and pushes you back into the couch.

“I didn’t say you could do that yet, now did I? Don’t worry if you do a good enough job, I’ll let you have your way with them.” Bora smirks.

You frown as Bora returns to her expert teasing, her wild bouncing turning into a slow grind. For extra effect, she clenches her walls around your shaft, forcing a sharp gasp out of you. Bora smirks again as she slowly pushes back and forth against your cock. While her teasing smirk kind of pisses you off, the sheer confidence of it just makes Bora that much sexier. Her grind becomes a more intense version of her handjob. Slow deliberate movements designed to build your need for pleasure without giving you any.

“That’s quite the frown. Tell you what, you can squeeze mommy’s ass. How about that?” Bora teases.

While you feel like you should say something, your need for some sort of pleasure takes precedence. Your hands immediately slap onto Bora’s ass, your fingers melting into her plump cheeks. As you fondle and squeeze her ass, she quickly returns to her aggressive thrusts on your cock. Small moans begin to leak out of Bora’s mouth. Her hot walls grip your shaft, roughly tugging on your dick with every bounce. Bora’s moans slowly begin to overpower your own as she continues to violently slam herself on your cock. You give her ass a rough slap and her cunt reacts the same way Seungyeon’s did, tightening with every smack. Not wanting to overdo it and make Bora angry, you give her another hard slap before returning to squeezing her ass.

“God you’re so good. You’re hitting all of mommy’s spots. Now I see why Seungyeon got fucked to sleep.” Bora moans, her alluring voice intoxicating your ears.

The sound of your flesh crashing against each other is barely audible as Bora’s moans escalate even more. Her violent slams onto your cock cause her whole body to ripple, her heavenly chest heaving wildly. Bora brushes her hair behind her head like she did when she was riding Seungyeon. The simple action is so amazingly erotic as it leaves her entire body on display. Alluring and sensual moans fill the air between you as you watch her body dominate your own, mesmerized by her delicious breasts. Suddenly, her aggressive bouncing comes to a stop as she plants her hands on your chest.

“Whew. Oh god. That was close. Almost got away from me there.” Bora says with a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

“I thought you were enjoying it.” You frown.

“Oh I definitely was. But I can’t have either of us cumming just yet.” Bora says with the same teasing smile she’s been giving you all night.

As Bora begins her agonizingly slow grind to edge you once again, everything suddenly makes sense. Dancing and sex are both about timing and rhythm. And the reason Bora is so good is because her body has a natural talent for both. She always knows the precise moments of when to build up and when to stop. Every single thing she does is done with the maximum amount of teasing possible. And Bora absolutely knows it. As if reading your mind, Bora smirks as she slowly pushes against your cock.

Feeling bold after her crescendo of moans, your hands slowly make their way up her seductive curves. Slowly sliding up her hips and side, savoring every moment of her silky skin before reaching her breasts. Bora looks you in the eye before giving you a small nod. That’s all the permission you need as you dive into her chest. Your fingers sink into her pillowy breasts, immediately grabbing and squeezing them as hard as you can.

“Do you like the way mommy’s tits feel?” Bora moans with a seductive smile..

“Yes I do, they’re so incredible.” You grunt as she clenches her cunt around your dick again.

“Good. Now go on. Taste them like I know you’ve been wanting to.”

One of your favorite things about tonight is getting ordered to do things you were going to do anyway. You dive into Bora’s chest the way you've been wanting to all night. Your lips immediately find her stiff nipple, eagerly taking it into your mouth.

Your tongue swirls around the fleshy nub, sucking and pulling on it. The soft skin of her tits melts in your hands as you squeeze and knead them. Your fingers quickly travel to her free nipple, pinching it as you take the other between your teeth.

"Do you like the way mommy's tits taste?" Bora smiles as she looks down at you.

Not wanting to release her breast from your mouth, pulling her nipple up and down with your teeth. Bora’s sensual moans gradually increase in pitch as she aggressively bounces on your dick. Wanting some payback for her hellish edging, you thrust upward in time with her downthrust.

"Oh God. Just like that, hit right there baby." Bora shrieks.

You smile against her breast as you can finally do what you want. Swirling your tongue around her nipple, you begin your own intense thrusts. Your tip mercilessly slams against Bora’s womb. Her ass ripples against your thighs, every thrust trying to pierce deeper than the last.

With her nipple between your teeth again, you relish the sensation of her sizeable tits heaving and bouncing against your face. As if detecting your pleasure, Bora grabs the back of your head and pushes your face against her chest even more. Pushing and pulling her nipple with your teeth, you continue to pinch her free nipple. As you continue to pull on both of her nipples, Bora’s wet pussy tightly grips your dick.

"Fuck just like this. You're making mommy feel so good." Bora moans at the top of her lungs.

You’ve never understood what people meant by a siren song until you heard Bora’s sensual moans. Each lustful and erotic note drives you deeper into ecstasy and madness. Unfortunately, you finally find yourself exhausted. While you're surprised that you’d lasted this long, you quickly push the thought aside.

With the last bit of remaining strength you have, you violently slam your dick into Bora’s depths. Every animalistic thrust you throw out causes her body to bounce harder than it has all night. Her delicious thighs and perfect ass ripple wildly as your bodies crash against each other. The taste of her stiff nipple fills your mouth as her tits heave and jiggle against your lips. Your tip twitches inside her moist cavern and you know it's time.

Bora lightly punches you in the chest as you feel her velvety walls clamp around your shaft. She erotically pulls her hair back again. You finally detach yourself from her nipples, a strand of saliva glimmers in the air before breaking. As you lock eyes with her, you can see notes of something else behind her lustful gaze.

Both of you know the end is approaching. You increase the velocity of your frantic thrusts, piercing your tip into her as deep as you can. Her velvety walls clench on your shaft, overwhelming your cock with a tightness you've never experienced. Rapidfire moans blast out of Bora as she grips your shoulders.

“OH fuck. You’re so good. I’m about to cum.” Bora screams, her alluring moans driving you to your limits as well.

“Me too. I want to cum inside you.” You groan, not even attempting to get ready to cum anywhere else.

“Go ahead, cum inside mommy. Fill me all the way up.” Bora screams, her fingernails digging into your shoulders.

With one final aggressive slam, your tip pries into her depths one more time. Bora’s hot cunt tightens so much it feels like it might rip your dick off. As both of your bodies shudder violently, Bora’s climax triggers your own. Thick streams of semen erupt from your tip, a torrential flood of cum depositing directly into her womb. After one final spurt, both orgasms slowly come to an end. As Bora gingerly lifts herself off your cock, you both look down to see a white waterfall leaking from her pussy. Both of you knowing full well the only reason you came so much is because Bora edged you to hell and back.

“Go lay down next to Seungyeon.” You gesture as you go pick up your camera one last time.

Bora smiles, immediately knowing what you want. Laying down next to Seungyeon, Bora gently nudges her mid snore.

“I’m awake. What did I miss??” Seungyeon shouts as she darts awake.

“Nothing. Just taking one last picture. Spread your legs and say cheese.” You groan, sore from the two bouts of mind shattering sex.

Without any questions, Seungyeon immediately does as she’s told. Bora quickly joins her and the camera flash illuminates your apartment for the final time tonight. You take a look at the display on your camera and smile at what will be one of your all time favorite shots. The two busty beauties posing with V signs and smiles, their legs spread to reveal obscene amounts of cum dripping from their cunts. Setting your camera down, you lay down between the girls. As you feel their soft tits pressing against both your arms, you quickly crash into a deep slumber.

You wake up again the next morning after the most eventful photoshoot of your life and you scroll through the extracurricular shots. Even though you stopped taking pictures as it started getting intense, you thankfully managed to get an amazing final shot. You smile as you stare at your favorite picture of the day, the two girls covered in your cum with your dick between your tits forever immortalized. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a small note nearby.

“Dear Mr. Photographer, thank you so much for such an incredible photoshoot. In addition to all the fantastic pictures, we also had a lot of fun. Hopefully we’ll be able to use your services again. And don’t worry, we’ll definitely be recommending your services to the other members for when they come to shoot their teasers.

- Bora and Seungyeon”

Underneath the letter, you see a second smaller note, almost hidden. After a quick glance, you realize that it’s Seungyeon leaving you her personal number and asking for dinner sometime. Considering how she secretly hid it, you chuckle as you realize that Bora probably scolded Seungyeon for wanting to leave it. It amazes you how similar yet different they are. So of course, even their responses would be different. While Seungyeon apparently wants something more, the lack of follow-up tells you that Bora is completely fine with it just being a casual hook-up. Smiling to yourself, you place the notes on your desk so you’ll always be able to see them. You briefly wonder exactly what services they’ll be recommending. But having seen pictures of all the other members, you’re excited to continue working on this project.

A/N first things first, I want to give a massive shoutout to @sinsatmidnight on tumblr for beta reading this ridiculous piece. I started writing this piece last year and after so many struggles I finished it after six months. This piece is kind of a weird mix of inspiration. Original concept was going to be something completely different. But then I saw that both had super hot pictures of croptops on buildingtops. So then the prompt became "something about croptops on rooftops" Then I decided to go with the opposite theme and use the outfit from Seungyeon's rooftop croptop and then the white outfit from the Black Or White stages as inspiration. Hence why the working title for this piece was Opposites. Also for some reason I feel like I want to clarify that I came up with this idea even before their collab video came out.

#kpop #kpop smut #dreamcatcher #malereader #readerinsert #clc #clc seungyeon #dreamcatcher sua

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ot3 · 3 years

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i watched red vs blue: zero with my dear friends today and i was asked to “post” my “thoughts” on the subject. Please do not click this readmore unless, for some reason, you want to read three thousand words on the subject of red vs blue: zero critical analysis. i highly doubt that’s the reason anyone is following me, but hey.

anyway. here you have it.

Here are my opinions on RVB0 as someone who has quite literally no nostalgia for any older RVB content. I’ve seen seasons 1-13 once and bits and pieces of it more than once here and there, but I only saw it for the first time within the past couple of months. I’ve literally never seen any other RT/AH content. I can name a few people who worked on OG Red vs. Blue but other than Mounty Oum I have NO idea who is responsible for what, really, or what anything else they’ve ever worked on is, or whether or not they’re awful people. I know even less about the people making RVB0 - All I know is that the main writer is named Torrian but I honestly don’t even know if that’s a first name, a last name, or a moniker. All this to say; nothing about my criticism is rooted in any perceived slight against the franchise or branding by the new staff members, because I don’t know or care about any of it. In fact, I’m going to try and avoid any direct comparison between RVB0 and earlier seasons of RVB as a means of critique until the very end, where I’ll look at that relationship specifically.

So here is my opinion of RVB0 as it stands right now:

1. The Writing

Everything about RVB0 feels as if it was written by a first-time writer who hasn’t learned to kill his darlings. The narrative is both simultaneously far too full, leaving very little breathing room for character interaction, and oddly sparse, with a story that lacks any meaningful takeaway, interesting ideas, or genuine emotional connection. It also feels like it’s for a very much younger audience - I don’t mean this as a negative at all. I love tv for kids. I watch more TV for kids than I do for adults, mostly, but I think it’s important to address this because a lot of the time ‘this is for kids’ is used to act like you’re not allowed to critique a narrative thoroughly. It definitely changes the way you critique it, but the critique can still be in good faith. I watched the entirety of RVB0 only after it was finished, in one sitting, and I was giving it my full attention, essentially like it was a movie. I’m going to assume it was much better to watch in chunks, because as it stood, there was literally no time built into the narrative to process the events that had just transpired, or try and predict what events might be coming in the future. When there’s no time to think about the narrative as you’re watching it, the narrative ends up as being something that happens to the audience, not something they engage with. It’s like the difference between taking notes during a lecture or just sitting and listening. If you’re making no attempt to actively process what’s happening, it doesn’t stick in your mind well. I found myself struggling to recall the events and explanations that had immediately transpired because as soon as one thing had happened, another thing was already happening, and it was like a mental juggling act to try and figure out which information was important enough to dwell on in the time we were given to dwell on it.

Which brings me to another point - pacing. Every event in the show, whether a character moment, a plot moment, or a fight scene, felt like it was supposed to land with almost the exact same amount of emotional weight. It all felt like The Most Important Thing that had Yet Happened. And I understand that this is done as an attempt to squeeze as much as possible out of a rather short runtime, but it fundamentally fails. When everything is the most important thing happening, it all fades into static. That’s what most of 0’s narrative was to me: static. It’s only been a few hours since I watched it but I had to go step by step and type out all of the story beats I could remember and run it by my friends who are much more enthusiastic RVB fans than I am to make sure I hadn’t missed or forgotten anything. I hadn’t, apparently, but the fact that my takeaway from the show was pretty accurate and also disappointingly lackluster says a lot. Strangely enough, the most interesting thing the show alluded to - a holo echo, or whatever the term they used was - was one of the things least extrapolated upon in the show’s incredibly bulky exposition. Benefit of the doubt says that’s something they’ll explore in future seasons (are they getting more? Is that planned? I just realized I don’t actually know.)

And bulky it was! I have quite honestly never seen such flagrant disregard for the rule of “show, don’t tell.” There was not a single ounce of subtlety or implication involved in the storytelling of RVB0. Something was either told to you explicitly, or almost entirely absent from the narrative. Essentially zilch in between. We are told the dynamic the characters have with each other, and their personality pros and cons are listed for us conveniently by Carolina. The plot develops in exposition dumps. This is partially due to the series’ short runtime, but is also very much a result of how that runtime was then used by the writers. They sacrificed a massive chunk of their show for the sake of cramming in a ton of fight scenes, and if they wanted to keep all of those fight scenes, it would have been necessary to pare down their story and characters proportionally in comparison, but they didn’t do that either. They wanted to have it both ways and there simply wasn’t enough time for it.

The story itself is… uninteresting. It plays out more like the flimsy premise of a video game quest rather than a piece of media to be meaningfully engaged with. RVB0 is I think something I would be pitched by a guy who thinks the MCU and BNHA are the best storytelling to come out of the past decade. It is nothing but tropes. And I hate having to use this as an insult! I love tropes. The worst thing about RVB0 is that nothing it does is wholly unforgivable in its own right. Hunter x Hunter, a phenomenal shonen, is notoriously filled with pages upon pages of detailed exposition and explanations of things, and I absolutely love it. Leverage, my favorite TV show of all time, is literally nothing but a five man band who has to learn to work as a team while seemingly systematically hitting a checklist of every relevant trope in the book. Pacific Rim is an incredibly straightforward good guys vs giant monsters blockbuster to show off some cool fight scenes such as a big robot cutting an alien in half with a giant sword, and it’s some of the most fun I ever have watching a movie. Something being derivative, clunky, poorly executed in some specific areas, narratively weak, or any single one of these flaws, is perfectly fine assuming it’s done with the intention and care that’s necessary to make the good parts shine more. I’ll forgive literally any crime a piece of media commits as long as it’s interesting and/or enjoyable to consume. RVB0 is not that. I’m not sure what the main point of RVB0 was supposed to be, because it seemingly succeeds at nothing. It has absolutely nothing new or innovative to justify its lack of concern for traditional storytelling conventions. Based solely on the amount of screentime things were given, I’d be inclined to say the narrative existed mostly to give flimsy pretense for the fight scenes, but that’s an entire other can of worms.

2. The Visuals + Fights

I have no qualms with things that are all style and no substance. Sometimes you just want to see pretty colors moving on the screen for a while or watch some cool bad guys and monsters or whatever get punched. RVB0 was not this either. The show fundamentally lacked a coherent aesthetic vision. Much of the show had a rather generic sci-fi feel to it with the biggest standouts to this being the very noir looking cityscape, which my friends and I all immediately joked looked like something from a batman game, or the temple, which my friends and I all immediately joked looked like a world of warcraft raid. They were obviously attempting to get variety in their environment design, which I appreciate, but they did this without having a coherent enough visual language to feel like it was all part of the same world. In general, there was also just a lack of visual clarity or strong shots. The value range in any given scene was poor, the compositions and framing were functional at best, and the character animation was unpleasantly exaggerated. It just doesn’t really look that good beyond fancy rendering techniques.

The fight scenes are their entire own beast. Since ‘FIGHT SCENE’ is the largest single category of scenes in the show, they definitely feel worth looking at with a genuine critical eye. Or, at least, I’d like to, but honestly half the time I found myself almost unable to look at them. The camera is rarely still long enough to really enjoy what you’re watching - tracking the motion of the character AND the camera at such constant breakneck high speeds left little time to appreciate any nuances that might have been present in the choreography or character animation. I tried, believe me, I really did, but the fight scenes leave one with the same sort of dizzy convoluted spectacle as a Michael Bay transformers movie. They also really lacked the impact fight scenes are supposed to have.

It’s hard to have a good, memorable fight scene without it doing one of three things: 1. Showing off innovative or creative fighting styles and choreography 2. Making use of the fight’s setting or environment in an engaging and visually interesting way or 3. Further exploring a character’s personality or actions by the way they fight. It’s also hard to do one of these things on its own without at least touching a bit on the other two. For the most part, I find RVB0’s fight scenes fail to do this. Other than rather surface level insubstantial factors, there was little to visually distinguish any of RVB0’s fight scenes from each other. Not only did I find a lot of them difficult to watch and unappealing, I found them all difficult to watch and unappealing in an almost identical way. They felt incredibly interchangeable and very generic. If you could take a fight scene and change the location it was set and also change which characters were participating and have very little change, it’s probably not a good fight scene.

I think “generic” is really just the defining word of RVB0 and I think that’s also why it falls short in the humor department as well.

3. The Comedy

Funny shit is hard to write and humor is also incredibly subjective but I definitely got almost no laughs out of RVB0. I think a total of three. By far the best joke was Carolina having a cast on top of her armor, which, I must stress, is an incredibly funny gag and I love it. But overall I think the humor fell short because it felt like it was tacked on more than a natural and intentional part of this world and these characters. A lot of the jokes felt like they were just thrown in wherever they’d fit, without any build up to punchlines and with little regard for what sort of joke each character would make. Like, there was some, obviously Raymond’s sense of humor had the most character to it, but the character-oriented humor still felt very weak. When focusing on character-driven humor, there’s a LOT you can establish about characters based on what sort of jokes they choose to make, who they’re picking as the punchlines of these jokes, and who their in-universe audience for the jokes is. In RVB0, the jokes all felt very immersion-breaking and self aware, directed wholly towards the audience rather than occurring as a natural result of interplay between the characters. This is partially due to how lackluster the character writing was overall, and the previously stated tight timing, but also definitely due to a lack of a real understanding about what makes a joke land.

A rule of thumb I personally hold for comedy is that, when push comes to shove, more specific is always going to be more funny. The example I gave when trying to explain this was this:

saying two characters had awkward sex in a movie theater: funny

saying two characters had an awkward handjob in a cinemark: even funnier

saying two characters spent 54 minutes of 11:14's 1:26 runtime trying out some uncomfortably-angled hand stuff in the back of a dilapidated cinemark that lost funding halfway through retrofitting into a dinner theater: the funniest

The more specific a joke is, the more it relies on an in-depth understanding of the characters and world you’re dealing with and the more ‘realistic’ it feels within the context of your media. Especially with this kind of humor. When you’re joking with your friends, you don’t go for stock-humor that could be pulled out of a joke book, you go for the specific. You aim for the weak spots. If a set of jokes could be blindly transplanted into another world, onto another cast of characters, then it’s far too generic to be truly funny or memorable. I don’t think there’s a single joke in RVB0 where the humor of it hinged upon the characters or the setting.

Then there’s the issue of situational comedy and physical comedy. This is really where the humor being ‘tacked on’ shows the most. Once again, part of what makes actually solid comedy land properly is it feeling like a natural result of the world you have established. Real life is absurd and comical situations can be found even in the midst of some pretty grim context, and that’s why black comedy is successful, and why comedy shows are allowed to dip into heavier subject matter from time to time, or why dramas often search for levity in humor. It’s a natural part of being human to find humor in almost any situation. The key thing, though, once again, is finding it in the situation. Many of RVB0’s attempts at humor, once again, feel like they would be the exact same jokes when stripped from their context, and that’s almost never good. A pretty fundamental concept in both storytelling in general but particularly comedy writing is ‘setup and payoff’. No joke in RVB0 is a reward for a seemingly innocuous event in an earlier scene or for an overlooked piece of environmental design. The jokes pop in when there’s time for them in between all the exposition and fighting, and are gone as soon as they’re done. There’s no long term, underlying comedic throughline to give any sense of coherence or intent to the sense of humor the show is trying to establish. Every joke is an isolated one-off quip or one-liner, and it fails to engage the audience in a meaningful way.

All together, each individual component of RVB0 feels like it was conjured up independently, without any concern to how it interacted with the larger product they were creating. And I think this is really where it all falls apart. RVB0 feels criminally generic in a way reminiscent of mass-market media which at least has the luxury of attributing these flaws, this complete and total watering down of anything unique, to heavy oversight and large teams with competing visions. But I don’t think that’s the case for RVB0. I don’t know much about what the pipeline is like for this show, but I feel like the fundamental problem it suffers from is a lack of heart.

In comparison to Red vs. Blue

Let's face it. This is a terrible successor to Red vs. Blue. I wouldn’t care if NONE of the old characters were in it - that’s not my problem. I haven’t seen past season 13 because from what I heard the show already jumped the shark a bit and then some. That’s not what makes it a poor follow up. What makes it a bad successor is that it fundamentally lacks any of the aspects of the OG RVB that made it unique or appealing at all. I find myself wondering what Torrian is trying to say with RVB0 and quite literally the only answer I find myself falling back onto is that he isn’t trying to say anything at all. Regardless of what you feel about the original RVB, it undeniably had things to say. The opening “why are we here” speech does an excellent job at establishing that this is a show intended to poke fun at the misery of bureaucracy and subservience to nonsensical systems, not just in the context of military life, but in a very broad-strokes way almost any middle-class worker can relate to. At the end of the day, fiction is at its best when it resonates with some aspect of its audience’s life. I know instantly which parts of the original Red vs Blue I’m supposed to relate to. I can’t say anything even close to that about 0.

RVB is an absurdist parody that heavily satirizes aspects of the military and life as a low-on-the-food-chain worker in general that almost it’s entire target audience will be familiar with. The most significant draw of the show to me was how the dialogue felt like listening to my friends bicker with each other in our group chats. It required no effort for me to connect with and although the narrative never outright looked to the camera and explained ‘we are critiquing the military’s stupid red tape and self-fullfilling eternal conflict’ they didn’t need to, because the writing trusted itself and its audience enough to believe this could be conveyed. It is, in a way, the complete antithesis to the badass superhero macho military man protagonist that we all know so well. RVB was saying something, and it was saying it in a rather novel format.

Nothing about RVB0 is novel. Nothing about RVB0 says anything. Nothing about it compels me to relate to any of these characters or their situations. RVB0 doesn’t feel like absurdism, or satire. RVB0 feels like it is, completely uncritically, the exact media that RVB itself was riffing off of. Both RVB0 and RVB when you watch them give you the feeling that what you’re seeing here is kids on a playground larping with toy soldiers. It’s all ridiculous and over the top cliche stupid garbage where each side is trying to one-up the other. The critical difference is, in RVB, we’re supposed to look at this and laugh at how ridiculous this is. In RVB0 we’re supposed to unironically think this is all pretty badass.

The PFL arc of the original RVB existed to show us that setting up an elite team of supersoldiers with special powers was something done in bad faith, with poor outcomes, that left everyone involved either cruel, damaged, or dead. It was a bad thing. And what we’re seeing in RVB0 is the same premise, except, this time it’s good. We’re supposed to root for this format. RVB0 feels much more like a demo reel, cutscenes from a video game that doesn’t exist, or a shonen anime fanboy’s journal scribbling than it feels like a piece of media with any objective value in any area. In every area that RVB was anti-establishment, RVB0 is pure undiluted establishment through and through.

#long post #really long post guys. look out !#rvb

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pinktwingirl · 3 years

Text

Loki Series Rewrite (AKA Loki Series But With Squirrel Girl) Ep 3

INT. TVA - DAY

Loki is attacking Sylvie. Suddenly, Doreen enters and rushes up to them.

DOREEN

Loki, catch!

She tosses him a prune stick. Loki takes it and he starts fighting Sylvie with her. During the battle, Doreen manages to overpower Sylvie and tackle her to the ground. Doreen holds her knuckle spikes to Sylvie's throat, but Sylvie twists her arm and kicks Loki's prune stick away. Sylvie then kicks Doreen's face and grabs Loki. Doreen freezes when she sees Sylvie is holding a dagger to Loki's throat. Just then, Ravonna and several other agents enter.

SYLVIE

Come any closer, and I'll kill him.

RAVONNA

Go for it.

Doreen glares at her. Before she can attack, Loki whips out his tem-pad, causing himself and Sylvie to disappear.

We cut to later, when Mobius, Ravonna, and Doreen are standing where Loki and Sylvie vanished.

DOREEN

(to Ravonna)

Thanks for nothing.

RAVONNA

I called her bluff. I knew she wasn't going to do it.

DOREEN

Yeah. Sure.

MOBIUS

Where the hell did they go?

DOREEN

You don't know?

MOBIUS

Loki took the tem-pad with him. We can't find his location if we don't have it.

(He groans in frustration.)

That bastard! He directly disobeyed me! I knew I shouldn't have trusted him!

DOREEN

He probably just wanted to know what was going on! Look, I can find him with-

(She takes out her Loki locket, only to see that it is broken.)

Shit...

MOBIUS

What?

DOREEN

This thing must've gotten damaged in the fight.

MOBIUS

Can't you just fix it?

DOREEN

It's not that simple. Thor let me borrow parts of rare Asgardian technology to build this. They were some of the last parts they had, so I would have to go back in time to Asgard to get more. And... I have no idea where I would even begin to start looking there.

Mobius sighs.

MOBIUS

Alright, look, I'll search through our files on Asgard to see what I can find. In the meantime, just try to salvage what you can, and don't dilly-dally. Every moment those variants are on the loose, we're all in danger.

INT. TVA OFFICE - DAY

Doreen is trying to work on the locket to no avail. She slams it down and sighs. Just then, her squirrel Monkey Joe hops up on the table, carrying spare parts. He sets them down and squeaks at her.

DOREEN

No... Those won't work, Monkey Joe. We need gear that can navigate through both space and time.

Looking dejected, Monkey Joe lets out a few sad squeaks. Doreen pets him and gives him an almond as consolation.

DOREEN

I know, buddy, you tried your best...

Doreen's other squirrels, Tippy-Toe and Mr. Lieberman join Monkey Joe to eat pieces of the almond. Just then, CASEY turns around and peers at the squirrels in horror.

CASEY

What are those?

(Beat)

DOREEN

Um, almonds? Want some?

CASEY

No, the... things eating them...

Doreen raises an eyebrow.

DOREEN

They're squirrels.

CASEY

"Squirrels?"

DOREEN

What, you've never seen a squirrel before?

CASEY

No... I've spent my whole life here, so I've never seen any animals at all.

Doreen looks mortified.

DOREEN

That's the saddest thing I've ever heard in my life...

INT. TVA LIBRARY - DAY

Mobius is looking through various old books on shelves. He pauses when he flips through a book that has Asgardian writing and a map of Asgard.

INT. TVA OFFICE - DAY

Doreen is showing Casey pictures of different types of squirrels on her phone as Casey looks on in wonder.

DOREEN

So, this here is a red squirrel. I just love their little pointy ears! Ooh, and these ones are extra rare: The Japanese flying squirrel! Look at their beady little eyes! And their fluffy tail! You can only find these in one island on all of Earth!

CASEY

Wow... That's amazing!

Just then, Mobius walks in.

MOBIUS

Doreen!

Doreen quickly slams her phone down.

DOREEN

Uhhh, yes, sir, we are hard at work!

She does an awkward salute. Mobius frowns at her.

MOBIUS

I found this book in our library.

(He flips to a page that has a drawing of Odin's treasure room with a description written in Asgardian.)

This look familiar?

Doreen frowns as she peers at the book.

DOREEN

This is all in Asgardian. I can't read it.

MOBIUS

Forget the text; look at the picture.

He points to a section of the drawing where several golden parts are stored in the treasure room. Doreen's eyes widen.

DOREEN

Oh my God... I think that's it!

Mobius grins.

MOBIUS

Yeah? You think you could go get it if I sent you to Asgard, say, a couple decades in the past?

DOREEN

Sure, I mean... All I would have to do is find Odin's treasure room... wherever that is, somehow break in, get the parts, and then, by some miracle, get out undetected, and then we're home free!

MOBIUS

Easy!

DOREEN

Easy!

(She pats him on the back.)

Good job, Moby! I might need a change of clothes, though.

MOBIUS

What's wrong with your clothes?

DOREEN

I mean, I can't just walk into Asgard like this; I'd stick out like a sore thumb!

Mobius sighs.

MOBIUS

Alright, I'll see if we have any old stuff from the Asgardian variants we've taken in. But study that book and maybe try to come up with a halfway coherent plan for sneaking in. I'll set the portal to send you back to the same moment in time once you're done, so you can take however long you need to look for the parts. But don't use that as an excuse to sight-see!

He chuckles under his breath as he walks away.

MOBIUS

"Moby"...

INT. LAMENTIS-1 TRAIN - NIGHT

Loki and Sylvie are chatting on the train.

SYLVIE

How about you? You're a prince! Must've been... would-be princesses. Or, perhaps, another prince?

LOKI

A bit of both. I suspect, the same as you. But nothing ever...

SYLVIE

Real.

LOKI

Hmm.

(Beat)

SYLVIE

What about your mortal girl? What was her name? Doreen?

Loki raises an eyebrow.

SYLVIE

She seems nice.

LOKI

Oh, I'm sure she'd appreciate that, coming from the person who practically kicked her face in.

SYLVIE

Hey, when she's on the run, a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do.

LOKI

And, no, she's... just an acquaintance.

Sylvie raises an eyebrow and smirks.

INT. ASGARD PALACE, 1960 - NIGHT

Doreen enters the palace through a portal in a pretty, albeit slightly ill-fitting blue Asgardian dress, with her hair done up like all the other noble ladies. As she wanders around, she spots a crowd of noble ladies in ballgowns chatting and laughing while they walk. She tries to inconspicuously join the group, when a MAID calls out to her.

MAID

Um, pardon me, my lady?

Doreen freezes to see if the maid is talking to her.

MAID

Do you not have something to wear for tonight?

DOREEN

I... Um... Well, I was just going to wear this... very Asgardian dress...

MAID

Do you... have anything a little more formal? I trust you haven't forgotten that the ball is tonight?

DOREEN

Uh... Right... Yes... Of course... Um...

MAID

We have some spare dresses if you'd like to borrow one. I'm sure the queen wouldn't mind.

Doreen hesitates for a moment.

DOREEN

A-alright... Thank you.

She follows the maid into a corridor.

INT. CHANGING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER

Doreen sits in front of a mirror while the maid styles her hair. She has a layer of light, pretty makeup on her face.

MAID

Have you decided which dress you'd like, my lady?

DOREEN

Oh... I liked the green one.

The maid raises an eyebrow.

MAID

Are we... hoping for something?

DOREEN

Wh-what do you mean?

MAID

Well, if you're wearing the colors of Prince Loki, some might think you were... trying to get his attention.

(Beat)

DOREEN

W-will he be there?

MAID

He should. I must warn you that he detests these types of social events, though. At last winter's ball, he projected an illusion of himself in the ballroom to make it seem like he was present when he was really in his room reading books the whole night.

Doreen grins.

MAID

Shall I help you put on your dress?

DOREEN

(Lost in thought)

Yeah...

(Her head shoots up as she comes back to her senses.)

U-uh, I mean, no! No, no, no! I... I can do it myself...

INT. ASGARDIAN BALLROOM, 1960 - NIGHT

Loki is standing off to the side while Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three talk and drink. They are all dressed in their outfits from 2011 Thor. Thor downs a mug of ale.

THOR

Another!

He smashes his drink on the ground and Loki rolls his eyes. Thor approaches him and claps him on the back - a little too hard. Loki grunts and gives him an irritated look.

THOR

Come on, brother... You could at least try to have a little fun!

Loki scoffs.

LOKI

Watching every maiden in the palace fawn over you and Fandral is not my idea of fun.

Thor laughs.

THOR

Loki... Must you be so down? You can't spend all your time shut up in your room reading all those books and doing your little magic spells.

LOKI

Why not? I'd infinitely prefer it to this.

Before Thor can say another word, Loki walks off. A SERVANT approaches him, carrying a tray with a goblet of wine on it.

SERVANT

Some wine, your highness?

Loki eagerly takes the goblet and drinks it, nearly downing the entire thing in one swig. He freezes when he sees something in the distance.

We pan up the staircase as we see Doreen descending down it, wearing an elegant green and gold dress. Her hair is done up in an intricate braid, with golden ornaments adorning it. She looks around the ballroom nervously, peering at different corridors in an attempt to find the treasure room. Never taking his eyes off her, Loki sets the goblet down on a table nearby and walks off-screen.

As Doreen makes her way across the ballroom, Tippy-Toe suddenly scurries off to a table where grapes and nuts are laid out.

DOREEN

Tippy!

(She rushes after her.)

We're supposed to be keeping a low profile!

Tippy-Toe gives her a pleading look and a few squeaks. Doreen sighs.

DOREEN

Alright, fine. But just one.

She hands Tippy-Toe a macadamia nut. As the squirrel eats her treat, we suddenly hear Loki's voice behind them. Startled, Doreen whirls around.

LOKI

As much as I'm sure your friend is pleasant company, the kitchen staff might not take kindly to seeing a rodent on the refreshment table.

Tippy-Toe cocks her head and gives him an inquisitive squeak. Loki smiles at her.

LOKI

No offense.

DOREEN

Ah... Y-You're right, um... Tippy, why don't you go eat that outside? I'll catch up with you later.

Tippy-Toe squeaks and runs off with her nut. Nervously wringing her hands, Doreen glances back at Loki, who smiles at her.

DOREEN

So, um... Are you... actually here this time, or is this just another one of your creepy illusions?

Loki smiles and extends his hand to her.

LOKI

Perhaps you should find out for yourself.

After hesitating for a moment, Doreen gingerly places her hand in his. Loki kisses the back of her hand, causing her to blush.

LOKI

I'm terribly sorry; I don't believe I caught your name?

DOREEN

U-um... Doreen.

LOKI

Well, Lady Doreen... Would you care for a dance?

DOREEN

Huh? O-oh, I, um... I-I don't... really know how...

LOKI

It's easy! I'll teach you! Here...

(He leads her into the center of the ballroom, where other couples are dancing.)

Just step forward like this... Then back... Right... Left...

Doreen glances nervously around the room as he leads her into a waltz.

LOKI

You don't have to watch what everyone else is doing; just follow my lead...

(Beat)

You're, um... You're stepping on my foot.

DOREEN

Oh, sorry!

They continue to chat as they dance.

LOKI

You know, I'm surprised a noble lady like yourself never learned to dance.

DOREEN

Oh, well, um... I don't... really like going to parties very much.

LOKI

Ah. I don't either, to be honest.

DOREEN

Then how'd you get to be so good at dancing? Are all the girls lining up to dance with the youngest prince of Asgard?

Loki laughs, embarrassed.

LOKI

Ah.... N-no, not exactly... That's... more Thor's forte. I... mostly learned from dancing with my mother.

Doreen grins.

DOREEN

Aww...

Loki laughs.

(Beat)

LOKI

You're stepping on my foot again.

DOREEN

Ack!

She takes her foot off of his.

LOKI

You know, I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose.

DOREEN

I'm not!

After a pause, she grins devilishly and stomps on his foot, causing him to yelp in surprise.

DOREEN

Okay, maybe that was on purpose.

They both laugh. Doreen glances at his helmet.

DOREEN

That helmet looks... comfortable.

LOKI

Oh, it is.

DOREEN

Yeah, I don't believe you.

LOKI

Well, it only weighs about 30 pounds, give or take. It's like wearing a feather.

They both snicker.

DOREEN

Doesn't it ever throw you off balance?

LOKI

Not once you get used to it. You should try wearing it sometime. I'm sure you'd love it.

Doreen grins, laughing to herself.

DOREEN

Yeah, I'm sure...

LOKI

I, um... I must ask... Did you... wear green tonight deliberately? It is my favorite color, after all.

DOREEN

Oh, really? I never would've been able to tell!

They both laugh.

DOREEN

No, it, um... It's actually my favorite color, too, so...

LOKI

Ah.

DOREEN

Is that, like, something people actually do? I mean... wearing certain colors to get people to notice them?

LOKI

Well, sometimes, yes. I... admit, I... actually tried it once myself.

DOREEN

Oh yeah?

LOKI

A few years ago, there was a prince visiting from Vanaheim that I was... rather taken with. It was known that he loved silver, so I thought if I wore silver armor, I might... endear myself to him.

DOREEN

Did it work?

LOKI

(laughing)

No.

DOREEN

Well... I think you look better in green, anyway.

We cut to Thor standing with ODIN and FRIGGA on the far side of the ballroom, watching Loki and Doreen.

THOR

Mother, who is that Loki is dancing with?

FRIGGA

I'm not sure... I don't believe I've ever seen her around the palace before...

ODIN

Neither have I. I would wager she's merely the daughter of a poor social climber trying to pass himself off as a noble. Nothing to concern yourself with.

Thor grins as Odin walks off-screen.

THOR

Well, Loki seems to be finally enjoying himself...

They watch Loki twirl Doreen around as she giggles, her face flushed red. Frigga laughs.

FRIGGA

That's the first time I've seen him smile all day...

As they continue to dance, Doreen grows more nervous, suddenly unable to meet Loki's gaze, which never leaves her face. At one point, Loki places his hands around her waist and pulls her closer to him, causing her to tremble slightly. After hesitating, she gently places her hands on his shoulders. He smiles as the orchestra finishes playing.

DOREEN

How did I do?

LOKI

You're a fast learner. I'm impressed.

They smile at each other.

EXT. ASGARDIAN COURTYARD - NIGHT

Loki and Doreen chat as they walk through the garden in the palace courtyard, with Doreen drinking a cocktail in an elegant glass.

LOKI

I apologize if I come off as um... well, stiff... I have to admit this sort of thing is... well, it's rather new for me. I was never really very social growing up... Everyone always admired Thor for his physical strength, and, well... My own talents of magic and intellect are far less revered. The only friends I ever had, I met through Thor.

DOREEN

If it makes you feel any better, I didn't have any friends as a kid.

Loki raises an eyebrow.

LOKI

Not any?

Doreen shakes her head.

LOKI

Well, I... certainly wish we'd met sooner, then.

(Beat)

DOREEN

Yeah, me too.

LOKI

It's certainly never easy being an outcast... I've spent my whole life living in Thor's shadow... I know my father wishes I were more like him and his friends, but... All the brawn and muscle... It's just not who I am. I'm not like them.

DOREEN

Yeah, and, I mean, I'm sure being a frost giant and all must make you feel different, too...

Loki frowns.

LOKI

I beg your pardon?

Doreen's eyes widen, and she almost chokes on her drink.

DOREEN

U-Uh... I-I mean, um... Hypothetically speaking, if someone were... secretly a frost giant living in Asgard, that would... make them feel different, but, you know, that... wouldn't happen... ever...

She lets out a nervous laugh and sets her drink down on a nearby table as Loki blinks in confusion.

DOREEN

Anyways... What are you plans for the future if you're not first in line for the throne?

LOKI

I'm... not sure, to be honest. My parents thought I could gain some title of power by marrying me off to some other royal family, but I... don't think that's going to happen.

DOREEN

I guess it's too bad things didn't work out with that Vanaheim prince, then.

LOKI

Well, actually, I'm... rather glad they didn't now.

DOREEN

Why?

(Beat)

LOKI

Because now I've met you.

Doreen freezes and glances at him in surprise. He gives her a gentle smile in return. For a moment, she looks inexplicably happy, but once her senses return to her, her face falls and she backs away from him. Loki frowns.

LOKI

Is... something wrong?

DOREEN

I... I have to go...

LOKI

If... If I've said something wrong, I-

DOREEN

N-no! No, it's not... I... I'm sorry...

Before he can say another word, she runs away.

EXT. ASGARDIAN FOUNTAIN - MOMENTS LATER

Doreen splashes her face with water from a fountain on the other side of the courtyard, trying to pull herself together. Suddenly, Tippy-Toe runs up to her and squeaks at her.

DOREEN

Right... Parts...

INT. ODIN'S TREASURE ROOM - MOMENTS LATER

Sneaking around corridors, Doreen finally finds the entrance to Odin's treasure room, which is protected by two guards.

DOREEN

(Whispering)

Okay, Tippy, you distract them while I sneak up on them from behind.

Tippy-Toe salutes, runs up to the guards, and starts playing with their armor while squeaking at them.

GUARD #1

What the-?! What is that?!

GUARD #2

It appears to be some type of squirrel...

Guard #1 tries flicking Tippy-Toe off his armor.

GUARD #1

Shoo! Begone, creature!

(He turns to the other guard.)

Do you think it's Ratatoskr?

GUARD #2

No, you fool! Ratatoskr has a horn!

Before they can say another word, Doreen strikes them both from behind. They try to attack her, but she expertly knocks them both out in one punch.

DOREEN

(to Tippy-Toe)

Let's go.

She and Tippy-Toe enter the treasure room, scanning the area for the parts. Doreen frowns in confusion when she sees Odin's fake infinity gauntlet, but is quickly distracted by the golden parts in a chest in the far end of the room.

DOREEN

Got it!

She tries picking up the parts, but as soon as she does, a shield of magic blocks the exit.

DOREEN

Oh, that's not good...

She hears footsteps and guards' voices rushing towards the treasure room. Moving quickly, she jumps up to the ceiling and kicks down the mechanism creating the shield.

DOREEN

Tippy, we gotta run!

Hiding in corridors, they slip past the guards and escape to the outside of the palace. Doreen grabs her tem-pad and opens a portal. Before she returns to the TVA, she catches a glimpse of Loki's silhouette in the distance walking around. For a moment, he seems to be looking for something, but he soon sits down on a bench, defeated, and looks at the other party guests in the distance. Squeezing her eyes shut, Doreen turns away and places a reset charge on the ground. As she and Tippy go through the portal, the reset charge disintegrates the area.

INT. TVA - DAY

Doreen and Tippy-Toe rush through the portal, causing Doreen to nearly run into Mobius, who raises an eyebrow.

DOREEN

I got the parts.

MOBIUS

I... can see that. Are you okay? What's with the getup?

DOREEN

I'm fine - There was a ball going on, so I just had to change to blend in...

(Beat)

I should... get started on fixing the locket.

Before Mobius can stop her, she rushes to another room.

INT. TVA OFFICE - DAY

Still in her ballgown, Doreen is busying inserting the parts into the locket. Mobius enters.

MOBIUS

I, uh... saw the footage of Asgard...

Doreen grits her teeth and says nothing.

MOBIUS

So... you... like Loki, huh? Gotta say, I wasn't expecting that...

DOREEN

I really don't want to talk about this.

MOBIUS

Does he know?

DOREEN

Uh, no, he doesn't, and I'd like to keep it that way.

MOBIUS

Well, I mean... I'd be lying if I said I thought you weren't an odd pair, but I guess I can see it...

Doreen clenches her jaw and ignores him.

MOBIUS

I just don't see why you're all upset over it...

Doreen slams the locket down.

DOREEN

Because! I'm gonna live, what? 80, 90 years max? Maybe a hundred if I'm lucky? That's a fraction of Loki's life! Why would he ever pay any attention to me?! If that Loki from the past knew I was just a human, he wouldn't have taken a second glance at me!

Realizing she is losing her composure, she tries to focus back on fixing the locket.

After a moment, Mobius sits down next to her.

MOBIUS

You know, I've studied Loki's entire life. I thought I understood everything there was to know about him. But you... you stumped me. If Loki knew he was going to die at the hands of Thanos, why did he trust you to be the one to bring him back to life? And then, it hit me... It's because he knows you're different. He knows that you know what it's like to be an outcast. He could sense it, just from meeting you, that you would be the first stranger he ever met that wouldn't see him as an enemy.

After a pause, Doreen shakes her head.

DOREEN

Even if I could believe that... it wouldn't matter. I'm never going to live long enough to be a part of his life.

(Beat)

MOBIUS

You know, when you've worked at the TVA for as long as I have, you tend to get a bit of a perspective on these types of things. Doreen... It's not about how much time we have... It's what we do with our time while we have it that matters. And you may not believe me, but I know you've made a difference in his life. You never doubted him, even when you had every right to. And that's always going to stick with him, even long after you're gone.

Doreen looks down and says nothing. After a moment, Mobius stands up.

MOBIUS

Well... make of it what you will. I'm gonna go ask the other agents if they've found any leads-

Suddenly, the locket clicks open.

DOREEN

It's fixed!

(She hands it to Mobius.)

Here, let that charge at a good power source for a little bit. Once it's at 100%, you should be able to see where Loki is.

MOBIUS

Okay, great. We'll get a task force ready to go get him.

DOREEN

Can I come?

MOBIUS

Ravonna would rather you stay here. She doesn't want a non-variant being put at an unnecessary risk.

Doreen's face falls, but she nods. Mobius exits. Doreen sits back at a computer and starts to look through files. She comes across a tab that reads "AGENT PROFILES", but when she tries to access it, she gets a message that reads "ERROR: RESTRICTED". Glancing over her shoulder, she checks to make sure no one else is in the room and begins typing.

INT. RAVONNA'S OFFICE - DAY

As Ravonna sits at her desk, she receives a holographic message that reads "WARNING: DATA BREACH DETECTED". She clenches her jaw.

INT. TVA OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER

Doreen is reading files on her computer. As she continues to read, her eyes widen, with her expression growing more and more horrified. Suddenly, she turns back to the door.

DOREEN

Mobius?!

When there is no response, she tries to exit the room and follow after Mobius, but a gate of lasers suddenly blocks her path. As she glances at it, confused, Ravonna opens a portal into the room and strikes her from behind, knocking her out.

SYLVIE SMIRKS ‘CAUSE SHE KNOWS HE LYIN

So yeah, I took a lot of inspiration for the ballroom scene from the Laendler scene from The Sound of Music. I imagined Loki and Doreen’s relationship being a lot like The Captain and Maria, ‘cause I’m a huge sucker for the hardened grouch going soft for the innocent, lighthearted dreamer trope lol :P

I also listened to the song “When the Night is Over” by Lord Huron a lot when writing that scene. It’s very sad and haunting if you think of it as Loki’s POV after Doreen runs away.

Finally, I am officially dubbing the Doreen x Loki pairing “Dorki”, and I shall henceforth be tagging these posts as such!

@drawntothedarkside

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some-dr-writings · 4 years

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Kiibo takes care of sick reader

· At the time you didn’t think much of it. Awaking that morning it just felt like any other bad, allergy season ridden day. Though you had not left your apartment for the last several days, cooped up trying to get your work done, it seemed the fresh autumn wind and pollen had gotten to you once again just as it had any other year. You simply took some pain medicine and kept a box of tissues by your side, making sure all windows were closed and fans turned off just as you had done every other year. You were simply thankful it was not spring, that, was a true nightmare… Or so you thought. The day carried on as usual really, some chores got done such as scrubbing down the bathroom, cooking your comfort food to cheer yourself up a bit, going through that final edit before submitting your work. By the time bedtime had rolled around you were actually feeling a little better and hoped by the next morning you’d be right as rain.

· Through the night as you tried to sleep something inside you quickly morphed. From a dry, runny nose to this dull throbbing, stinging pain that seemed to course through you. At first you assumed your nose dried up so much it was in pain again so you simply took more pain medicine, but… it just wouldn’t go away. You heard and felt your every last breath grow heavier, quivering and quaking under some strange pressure. The quilts of your bed, unbearable, suffocating and drowning you in that oppressive heat, yet even when you kicked them off, that heat still just hung there. You just wanted to sleep. You hated this, you hated being awake so early in the morning, but. You. Just. Could. Not. Sleep. You tried sleeping. You really did. You laid there for hours with your eyes shut, but that dull throbbing pain just would not let you. You didn’t want to, but you caved into the temptation of doing… something! If you had to be awake, you could at least be productive, right? Yes, it stimulated your brain, certainly keeping you awake, but… You were exhausted and you hoped that pushing your body a little would be enough to get you to collapse so you could drift off and not be conscious of the pain for even a little while… But that hope was in vain. Try as you might, you couldn’t concentrate on anything, only making your frustrations increase just as rapidly as that stinging pain seemed to zap your muscles forcing them to endlessly tense up, causing them to become sore and tremble under the constant pressure of being so tight. This quickly evolved into the back of your neck killing you as well as forming a wretched headache.

· You hated this.

· You just wanted sleep. Was that truly so much to ask?

· Laying back in bed you stared into that inky darkness as thoughts tried to form but were quickly cut off by that… everything.

· You just couldn’t do anything, but were forced to stay awake through it all? Really? “That’s just cruel.” You mumbled that to yourself, rolling out of bed, and trudging into the living room. There you found your charging phone and mindlessly picked it up, fiddling with the messages, then some app you downloaded long ago but soon forgotten.

· With that constant ringing in our head and ears muffled, hearing proved to be a challenge. Something you were normally rather fearful off, but in the moment, couldn’t care less about. At this point, you honestly couldn’t notice new symptoms in the ever-growing pile.

· You mindlessly droned on, sliding fluffy puff balls to make them explode came to a stop when some text suddenly appeared at the top of your screen. ‘I’m at the door. If you’re not feeling up to unlocking it, would you tell me if anyone has a spare key so I could ask them to let me in?’

· … huh?

· Someone was at the door you guess.

· On unsteady footing you stumbled to the door. Too bad you couldn’t hear the distinctive soft metal clicks you oh so enjoyed hearing when unlocking the door, it was one of the little things in life you loved so much, perhaps it would have put you at ease a little.

· “Ah, Y/N! Here.” His voice was quiet, yet you could still make out the words, the concern seeping from his tone striking you the most. He held your shoulders in a firm grip, keeping you from wavering and toppling over right then and there. “Kiibo? What?... why are you here?” This momentarily caught him by surprise. “You texted me. Do you not remember? Is our condition worse than I thought?” He placed down the bags he had on hand and lead you back to bed. “Wait? I… I did look through my messages, but I texted you?” He sat beside you and placed his hand on your head. “Yes. I’ll show you.” Scrolling through the messages on his phone you saw you had indeed texted, Kiibo. It was semi-coherent with spaces missing or not where hey should be, capitalization seemingly popping up out of nowhere. You were listing off our many aches and pains. Last time Kiibo had sent you, other than saying he was at the door, was how he’d be over to your place right away. “oh, sorry. I don’t know what’s happening, I don’t want you to stay here and get this bug too if I’m sick and it’s not my allergies acting up again.” For a moment Kiibo simply stared at you quirking a brow up, smiling, amused by something. “… You must really be out of it. But it’s no wonder, you’re burning up. Lay down and leave the rest to me!” Before you could say another word, he had already left.

· He soon returned with two small paper bags. “Have you taken any medicine?” “uh, just my prescribed pain meds.” “And when was that?” “Twenty-one, about an hour before I tried going to bed.” “It’s two now, can you take more?” “… Uh. I think so?” “Where is it?” “Ah, yeah, we can just check! Bathroom, lowest shelf on the right, behind the mirror, door, thing. That thing.” “Got it!” After placing the two small bags on the bedside table he sprinted away.

· Being here, trying to care for you, it was a little funny to Kiibo. As he opened the mirror cabinet he recalled how when Shuichi was trying to help him find jobs and they tested out him being a nurse robot. A faulty endeavor since he only had the strength of an old man and could not carry Shuichi, but the main premise was not truly tested. Closing the cabinet with the pill bottle in hand something caught his gaze in the reflection. A small hand towel that hung on the shower door. Perfect! He turned on the faucet, setting it to as cold as it could go before placing the small hand towel under the water. Waiting for the towel to absorb the cold he thought more on the premise. Long ago Kiibo had accepted he was not human but a robot. But that did not mean he was not a person. It was also useful. As a robot he could do things humans cannot. Like care for a sick person and not get sick himself. He’d just need a thorough cleaning to make sure he didn’t spread anything which could easily be done. After wringing out the towel he swiftly made his way back to your room.

· Entering the room, he found you with your hands on your face, breathing heavily, your voice lightly seeping out in quaking rasps. “You can take more pills. Time ran out.” “yay.” Taking a sip of water and the pills you hoped this would help, even if last time didn’t work, maybe it would this time. It was all you could do. “huh?” “Does this help?” He had placed the cold moist towel on your forehead, gently leaning you back onto the bed from sitting up. You sighed, placing your hands on his, pushing down on the towel a little more, adoring the cooling feeling. “Thank you.”

· He gently retracted his hand much to your disappointment. You then noticed he was looking through one of the small paper bags. “… what’s in the bags you brought?” “Ah! Doctor Idabashi let me take some medical supplies from home. Pain medicine, some ingredients for a light meal, he even quickly wrote down the directions so I could make it for you.” “aw, he’s nice, just like you. Like father, like son I suppose.” For a moment, he froze, those words completely catching him off guard. He softly smiled, holding the folded-up paper, ‘best oatmeal recipe’ written on it in neat, albeit tiny writing. “… Yeah, he is. He said this should only take eight minutes. I’ll be right back.” “Wait, you don’t know where everything is in the kitchen. I’ll cook with you.” “No, you’re sick. You need to rest.” “W-we don’t know that.” “Fine. Clearly you are unwell.” Shakily you sat up. “at least let me rest on the living room couch so I can be nearby and tell you where I keep everything.” “Only if you don’t enter the kitchen and try to cook.” You grumbled as you used the bedside table for support. “Okay.” Holding onto Kiibo’s arm, he gently led you to the couch.

· You flinched hearing a loud metal crash that was able to pierce through your muffled ears. “… Need help?” “N-no!” Though he found it to be rather silly, he was annoyed. “… Maybe.” You chuckled at the sheepish tone in his voice. “Where are the cups?” No matter where he looked, he could not find them. “And the tablespoons and teaspoons… And the knife block, and- HEY!!” He pointed at you taking on what you assumed to be a fighting stance. “No going into the kitchen!” “Just… getting the suff. I won’t cook.” Reluctantly he let you pass, standing in the middle of the kitchen with his arms crossed, watching as you shambled about. “Anything else?” “Uh… just a microwave safe bowl.” “okay.” “Then right after it’s straight back to the couch!” “uh-huh.”

· Kiibo wondered what it felt like to be sick, for one’s body to be working to fight off something within yourself. Was it like when he didn’t maintain his vents and fans? It was odd and saddening how in trying to protect yourself, you were left so miserable. When letting you hold on to him he got a close look at you, seeing how your whole body trembled, pale skin slightly shiny and clammy from a thin layer of sweat, the bags under your eyes a deep dark purple, your cheeks and nose flushed a bright red. Once you were sat down, he went straight to work, a newfound determination coursing through him!

· You were surprised at just how quick Kiibo was. You though he had just sat you down, but there he was sitting beside you, a hot, steaming bowl and spoon on the table before you as Kiibo held your shoulders looking absolutely worried. “Y/N, how are you feeling?” “Uh, dizzy, really dizzy.” “Wait right here.” He then dashed away. Suddenly there was pressure on your shoulders and head. It was cool. Your water bottle was held out to you. “Thanks.” As you were twisting off the cap you noticed what was placed atop you. “My towel? I see. Tha-thanks.” Your head felt so light suddenly, and you were terrified. That was till Kiibo leaned you against his shoulder. “What do you need? Can I get you anything? Should I take you to a hospital?” “… just pass me the oatmeal please.” “Uh… are you sure that’s all?” You simply nodded. It wasn’t hot, or was it? You weren’t sure you could tell, since almost everything felt hot right now. You huffed after taking a bite. “Is something wrong?” “… there’s apples, raisins, cranberries, but… I can’t tase any of it.” Solemnly you took another bite.

· When finished you placed the bowl on the table before you. “I’ll cle- Y/N?” He was perplexed and a little flustered by how you wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling into his shoulder. “you’re cool.” Was all you muttered before falling silent. “… Okay.”

· Through the night and day no words were exchanged. You simply slept as Kiibo held you close. On occasion he’d wriggle out of your grasp, taking the towel, placing it in ice water and wringing it out, finding you slowly awakening before draping the towel over you and holding you again. It was alright. He didn’t need to sleep or eat, and his batteries could last him for a week without rest, so he’d stay by you for as long as you needed. He simply wished he could do more, but… maybe this was enough. Though just to be sure of that Kiibo looked up your symptoms online, only to start internally panicking thinking you were dying, hurriedly texting Doctor Idabashi who despite having a difficult time, managed to calm Kiibo, convincing him the internet was not a good place to look up medical diagnoses much of the time before Kiibo had called an ambulance… Hopefully him being with you was enough, and eventually when you got better, he realized it was… and vowed to himself not to seek the internet’s advice when trying to diagnose something ever again.

#kiibo #k1b0 #k1-b0 #mod gundham #danganronpa v3 #danganronpav3 #new danganronpa v3 #danganronpa #danganronpa imagine #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa v3 imagine #danganronpa v3 imagines #dr imagine #dr imagines #dr v3 imagine #dr v3 imagines #danganronpa x reader #kiibo x reader #k1b0 x reader

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upstartpoodle · 4 years

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So it’s been a ridiculously long time since I’ve updated ‘Moving Forward’ now (I’ve quite possibly run into the most troublesome couple of paragraphs ever to refuse to be written - seriously I’m so close to finishing the chapter but my brain just won’t let me fill in the gaps for some reason). But anyway, I’m hoping to get my brain back in gear pretty soon, but until I do, here’s a second extract of the new chapter for anybody who’s interested!

@harry-leroy, @forcebros, @ticketybooser, @lashbrook11

***

“Surely there is something that can be done,” Cary scowled, suddenly. Taut as a bowstring, his eyes burning, he looked for all the world as if he were some confined beast ready to tear apart whatever lay within his grasp the moment he had the chance. “Something more than mopping his forehead and hoping he doesn't—”

He cut himself off, turning sharply away from the sight of his distressed nephew, jaw clenched. Dwight bit back a sigh, willing himself, despite his own overwrought nerves, to be patient. He shook his head.

“The fever must burn itself out before he can recover,” he said. “There is only so much we can do to keep it under control, but I promise you, we are doing everything we can to keep him comfortable through the worst of it.”

Cary sneered, his eyes flashing.

“Ah, well, as long as he's comfortable before he goes to the grave” he snarled, bitterly.

Dwight swallowed. He did not want to contemplate the possibility that George might not pull through the fever, but he, perhaps more than any of them, knew all too well how close to the brink he was hovering. He could not give in though—not yet—and as much as it was clear that Cary was a man all too inclined to prepare for the worst than hope for the best, he could not in good conscience allow others to do so either.

“He isn't lost to us yet,” he murmured, his eyes flickering up towards the man opposite him even as he felt George shifting restlessly, flinching away beneath his touch. “It may not seem so now, but your nephew is strong. He will not give in without a fight. We owe it to him not to give up hope that he may yet survive.”

Cary snorted. Another soft whimper from the bed, and though he still kept his face turned sharply away, Dwight saw something raw and pained creep across his features like a shadow.

“Yet,” he said, his voice suddenly very rough. “What use is 'yet' to me? If he—”

“Uncle...”

George's voice was soft, barely even a whisper above the hammering of the rain against the window, but that single utterance was enough to mute Cary's reply in an instant. His gaze finally turned away from the door, and back down to his shivering, trembling nephew, his eyes blazing.

“Uncle...” he murmured again. Dwight, who had been halfway through wetting the damp cloth in his hand, paused. He could see his eyes flickering back and forth behind his lids, his fine features contorted with fear at whatever bizarre visions were plaguing him. “Uncle, please...don't let him...”

Cary turned white, his jaw clenched so tight now that Dwight half wondered whether he would be able to open it again once the time came for him to speak. He swallowed. He could guess well enough what—or rather, who—was haunting his patient's feverish imagination, and it was clear from Cary's expression that he was not alone in the assumption.

“Hush, George, it is alright.” He pressed the cloth firmly against his burning forehead, trying to soothe him as he flinched at the contact. His other hand came to rest over one of the man's balled fists, clutched tight at the dishevelled sheets, tracing a gentle, calming rhythm over his white knuckles with his thumb. “There is nobody here but your uncle and I. You are safe.”

He wasn't sure if George could hear him—or if he could, whether he had enough presence of mind to understand him—but he knew that it was the best he could hope to do to relieve his patient's distress. He whispered words of comfort, over and over, until the man's quiet, troubled murmurings faded into incoherent little whimpers, and his wild shifting into slight shivers from the fever. All the time, Cary watched on, strange flashes of disquiet flashing across his face, as if somebody had forced him to watch something disturbing and unnatural.

“Has he been...speaking often?” he spoke up eventually. With George having finally quieted, and the repetitive pattern of the rain on the windowpane, his rough voice sounded harsher even than usual, for all that he had been trying to speak softly.

Dwight frowned.

“Not coherently enough to reveal anything you might wish to keep secret,” he said, guessing the old man's worries easily enough. Several demands of complete discretion—and one notable threat of being sued—both throughout and after his previous treatment of George had been enough to demonstrate to him Cary's insistent and unrelenting desire for absolute secrecy regarding his nephew's particular ailment, and the business with the horrid Penrose. “Nobody shall make anything of it.”

Part of him thought it an odd priority—to see one's nephew deathly injured and wracked with fever, then to think first of what he might reveal in the midst of his delirium to those in whose care he had been placed. It was the sort of thing that would outrage Ross, who cared little for reputation and whose concern had never been for malicious gossip and and the consequences that might ensue. Dwight, though, for all he disliked the hard and unfeeling elder Warleggan, thought he could understand it. For all that he was sure that none at Nampara would use it against them, evidence of suspected lunacy was a dangerous thing, especially should it fall into the wrong hands.

“Poldark might make the connection,” Cary replied, his features contorting into a truly impressive sneer as he spat out Ross' name. “He saw enough to know there was something going on. And that's leaving aside what Valentine might have told him, fool of a child. Or you.”

Dwight's head shot up, shocked for a moment into silence by the vehement accusation. His thumb, which had still been running gently over George's knuckles as they spoke, slowed to a stop.

“I have told him nothing, sir,” he said coolly, fighting the urge to bristle at the insinuation—as if he made a habit of blurting out pertinent information concerning patients to his friends like a child who understood no better. “You asked for complete discretion and I have done my utmost to adhere to that request.”

With the exception of Caroline, he thought, swallowing down a lump in his throat. True, it had been an honest mistake—on both their parts, he realised, despite what he had said to her at the time—but he had been unpardonably careless, leaving his notes, however briefly, to be so easily found. He felt badly for being so sharp with her on the matter. In hindsight, it was a relief to him that it had been Caroline who had stumbled across them rather than an inquisitive servant—or perhaps, he thought, remembering his wife's insistence that Horace had been poisoned, somebody with very ill intent indeed. He wondered perhaps if he should inform Cary of the incident, but just in that moment, the man let out a snort so fierce he was instantly discouraged.

“And you would do well to prove that by ensuring that nothing happens whilst my nephew is under your care to lead your...companions to dredge up certain truths,” he growled, and the look in his eyes was so piercing, so pointed that Dwight was halfway considering whether the man had read his thoughts before he came to his senses. “It would be a poor exchange for him to wake only to have that man poking his nose into old wounds.”

Dwight looked away, his attention drawn back to his patient. George seemed finally to be sleeping peacefully—or as peacefully as one could at least, when one was caught in the grip of such a fever. He let out a quiet sigh. He wished that he could say for sure that Ross would not act in any way detrimental to the man's health should he discover the truth, but, though he knew his friend would not act in malice, he feared that he might be inclined to be...indelicate at the very least, no matter how well-intentioned. But regardless of what Ross—or Demelza, or Prudie, or anybody else who might happen upon him in such a state—would do with such knowledge, he knew that it would be a breach of George's confidence to stand back and risk allowing any of them to discover it. His patient would hate them knowing, he knew, and it was his duty, he thought as he looked into the sleeping man's pain-filled face, to make sure that his secret was kept safe whilst he could not. He may not have guarded it closely enough once, but he would not fail again.

“For his sake,” he said, raising his eyes to meet Cary's gaze head-on. With a deep breath, he sent him a sharp nod. “For his sake, I shall do it.”

#poldark #poldark fic #george warleggan #cary warleggan #dwight enys #poldark s5 #post s5 au #moving forward #fic #mine #my fic #sfw

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jenliliscripts · 4 years

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Chapter 218

June’s POV

I prepared extra sets of clothes for us two since we're going to be out walking in the streets. It's better to be ready for anything. I know Jamie's going to come through with my request, but I can’t be complacent. I took the paper bag from the back and handed it to Lia.

"Here," I glanced at her. "Change into my clothes later before we go inside the ice cream parlor. I will too, after you. I just want to be careful. I don't want us to be in every news article tomorrow."

She tugged my arm towards her, then leaned on my shoulder. I instinctively drew closer, letting the side of my head rest on top of hers and began driving. It's a bit challenging to drive in this position, but I didn't want to break loose from her hold. It's just too comfortable, too warm—it's where I want to be.

"Junie…" her soft voice filling the void.

"Hmm?"

"If you could change something in your life, what would it be?"

The question caused me pause and think. The thought never crossed my mind because I was too caught up in my own bubble, stepping into my early 20s without a clear plan in mind, not taking the time to reflect on my past decisions. I used to say I knew what I wanted but they turned out to be empty words. I was chasing after temporary goals that would leave me unsatisfied after I've come to grasp them. I obviously didn't know what I wanted until I admitted that I'm in love with her. Loving her is the most certain thing I have ever felt in my entire life so if I could change anything in my life, I would want to meet her earlier.

"I wish I met you earlier, Lia," I said plainly.

"Why? That's so strange. There are many things you could change, but why that?"

"Ever since you came, life isn’t as dull as it was for me. How about you?"

She placed her other hand on top of our intertwined fingers. "I wish I wasn't afraid to explore the unknown. I wish I would just dive into things head first. Maybe I wouldn't be having a hard time sorting out some matters in my life."

"You know, that's what you told me that night."

Just like that, memories from that fateful night in Vegas flashed before my eyes. I could vividly remember everything that had happened despite my drunken state. Lia isn't really as much of a good drinker like me so she got wasted earlier than I did. I asked her questions that popped into my mind to keep the conversation going and prevent her from leaving. Looking back at it now, I think the real reason why I started latching onto her wasn't just because of wounded ego, but I was also smitten by her from the very beginning and I was quite late at acknowledging that.

Flashback: June 2019 at Las Vegas (June's POV)

She's onto her nth glass of vodka and she couldn't be stopped. I've already reprimanded her for being stubborn. Gosh, I don't want to carry her to her hotel room if she ends up passing out in here.

"Hey, J-june Tay…" she sighed rather audibly, visibly exasperated, probably because she has repeatedly failed to speak in coherent sentences. "June Taylor. Yes. Right that's your name."

"Yes, Miss Kim? You have any problem?"

She shook her head vigorously as she waved her hand. "No, no, no. Though I'm really frustrated with myself."

"For what reason may I ask?"

She pressed her index finger against her chest. "I always run back to my comfort zone when push comes to shove. I'm a competent person, but when shit hits the fan, I hide. I go back to the people and things that give me security."

"Isn't that normal? I think everyone has done that at some point in their life."

She closed her eyes, pouting her lips, showing her disagreement towards my answer. "I hate being a coward. I hate that I have to gather every bit of my strength to stop myself from getting back with my ex. It's tiring. But he feels familiar and he's all I know and I'm afraid he's all I'll ever know."

"He won't be the last, Lia," I told her, causing her eyes to open. She looked at me, bewildered because of my bold claim. "You'll meet more people along the way. Don't be scared of being alone. Actually, I think being alone is the best thing in the world. You get to do everything you want to do—fool around and not feel guilty after doing so."

"Ah! I don’t like being alone! Period!"

"Okay, fine. You don't like it. I respect that."

Squinting her eyes, she moved her face towards me. "You seem like a person who takes a lot of risks and hmm—a thrill seeker? Am I right?"

"I guess you could say that. Why?"

"I want to know—what's the most dangerous thing you've ever done?"

Her voice was noticeably sultry. Whether or not she had intended that, I am piqued by the sudden change in demeanor. I decided to ride along. "Having you here while you're drunk."

She smiled appeared on her lips, a mischievous one, exciting me further. "Why? Is there anything you want to do to me?"

I drew my face closer to her, straight up challenging her. She didn't flinch though, which is impressive if you ask me. My vision is a bit clouded, yet I didn't miss how her eyes sparkled as she fought off my stare. "I can do a lot of things to you right now. I'm just choosing not to."

She reached for my collar and tugged me towards her. Our faces were inches apart, the smell of vodka invading my nostrils as she breathed on my face. "How about we do something crazy? Help me break free from myself, will you?"

"How may I help you with that?"

"Marry me."

End of flashback

And I did marry her. Did I think it through? Nope. I immediately told her we should go to a private chapel and do it. As opposed to her reaction, I was exhilarated the morning after. But that time, my reasons were shallow. I saw Lia like some trophy that I could show my mom because she's so obsessed with marriage. Yeah, it was so immature of me. But now that feelings are involved, I'm genuinely happy by the fact that she is mine—at least on paper for now. It's impossible for her to find someone else while she's married to me. She'd think twice about going back to Tyler more so unless I file for divorce.

I haven't had the chance to ask the reason why marriage was her solution to the problem. Well, how could I ask when she couldn't even remember getting married?

Is it to prove that she can go on without Tyler or is it because she just wanted to do something she wouldn't imagine herself doing—marrying a girl? Maybe she wanted to defy her ideals and did something reckless, you know? There are quite a lot of reasons I could think of yet they remain as thoughts I won't be able to confirm.

"I haven't asked you in detail about what transpired that night," Lia said, momentarily glancing up at me before returning to her original position. "Who came up with the idea?"

"You," I answered, chuckling.

"I did?" Her voice resounded in the car, shock written all over her face.

"Yeah, Lia. It was you," I affirmed as I turned to the right. "You said you wanted to break free from yourself and suggested that marrying me was the way to achieve that."

She face palmed then made a loud squeaking sound, causing me to laugh. "I can't believe it. All along I thought you tricked me into it."

"The last thing I'll ever do is to deceive someone. I've told you before, I only lie when I have to."

"But how can you agree to an absurd idea? You should have stopped me."

"I kinda wanted it too even if it was very impulsive decision…" I confessed, my voice fading into the thin air.

"Wanted what? The marriage?"

"Yeah. And you. I wanted you."

She scoffed, completely in disbelief. "Me? Like you wanted to sleep with me or?"

"If I'm being honest, yeah. I wanted to sleep with you. But I realized something else a few months after. I didn't agree to marry you just because I wanted to get into your pants."

"Then what else?"

Does she really not know? I have never been good at hiding yet she couldn't see through my actions. Is she refusing to see and denying what's obvious?

"Later. We're here."

"Hi, uhm can I get a large cup of vanilla ice cream please and—" I looked over my shoulder. "Lili, do you want any toppings?"

"Nope," she replied, popping the 'p'. She was adorably bobbing her head to the music.

Turning back to the lady, I saw her jaw hanging slightly open. "A-are you June Taylor?"

I winked then pressed my index finger against my lips. "That will be our secret. Can you keep it for me?"

She nodded a few times then cleared her throat. "What else may I get you?"

"A cup of that cookie dough with chocolate sprinkles please."

"Is that girl your girl—" the lady cut herself off, realizing that she's overstepping. "I'm sorry."

A smile spread across my face as the thought came up. "She will be soon. I think I have a good shot at it."

"I'll keep that to myself. Yes, a cup of vanilla ice cream and one cookie dough with chocolate sprinkles coming right up, ma'am."

I served the ice cream then sat across Lia. "Here you go. Plain vanilla ice cream for you."

She grinned, snatching the cup from the tray then took a big scoop. As the ice cream melted in her mouth, she groaned in satisfaction. "Mmm, my favorite. I would never get tired of eating this."

Watching her from my seat, I also began eating my ice cream. Later on, I got a playful idea and just went with it. I stuck my finger into my cup and dabbed some on Lia's face. Her eyes widened, surprised by the rush of coldness that came into contact with her skin. "Hey!"

I pushed my chair back and dashed outside with my cup in hand. She followed me out, screaming at me while she took quick steps to catch up to me. "I'm competitive! I'll get back at you, June!"

My lungs were burning, but I was over the moon. Everything that has happened tonight is so liberating that I'm actually starting to believe we're different people, that this could go on forever. Am I selfish for wanting this so bad? For wanting Lia? And for possibly leaving her with no choice but to stay with me? I'm only holding on to a sliver of hope that she feels the same. However, the way she's acting tonight reinforces my belief that our feelings are mutual.

She disrupted my train of thoughts, jumping at me from behind, engulfing me in her arms. We were on the sidewalk, people walking past us like were nobodies. It felt great. It felt real. I wanted to stay in this moment for as long as I could. I don't want to take her home and deal with reality because I've made up my mind—I'm telling her the truth.

She forced me to turn around and smeared ice cream on my nose. "Now we're even."

I heaved and along with the heavy intakes of breath was the loud beating of my heart. Her other arm was still hooked around my back while I'm looking down at her, my eyes locked at her lips. I'm trying my very best not to kiss her here, but my mind couldn't go against my instincts. I leaned towards her and slowly closed my eyes, only to be stopped by the buzzing of my phone. Lia broke away, quickly retreating and avoided my gaze. I sighed, utterly disappointed by the ruined moment. It's Jamie's so I have no choice but to take the call.

"Yes Jay?"

"You have to go home now, June. Information got leaked. They know you're out. Not with Lia though. They just know you're wandering in the city. It won't be long until they find you."

"Got it. Thank you, Jay."

I terminated the call then turned to Lia. "I have to take you home now. It seems that the media has finally caught up."

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moro-nokimi · 3 years

Text

Chapter 6: January 6, 2011

Summary: All hell breaks loose.

AN: HERE WE GO LESBIANS THIS IS THE PENULTIMATE CHAPTER. Okay, excitement aside, when Light screams and collapses, google search “Light Yagami confession italian” - first result on youtube is the one you want. Would also recommend google searching “Struts somebody new” after the January 22 pagebreak, but it isn’t mandatory. I just like to torture my readers. TWs: death of a loved one, suicide, burning. Ask to tag.

ffn.online

“How’s it going, Gevanni?” Rester asked.

“I haven’t been able to confirm the presence of a Shinigami for the past week. And Mikami’s still on his regular routine.”

“I think it’s safe now,” Near said.

“Huh?”

(Poor guy looked wiped the fuck out, no wonder he was a bit slow in the brain area.)

“I want you to get your hands on the notebook again when you go to the gym tomorrow. And this time, take photographs of all the pages.”

“Photographs?” Rester repeated.

“Yes. I want to see for myself how the names are actually written. Most of Kira’s killings occur after midnight, but I want to find out if that’s because of Mikami’s clockwork life, or if he’s controlling the time of death. And if there are any rules to the way he writes the names down, if he has any habits… What does this notebook look like? Its appearance, front cover, back cover. I want to see all the small details with my own eyes.”

“All right.”

January 7 “So, what do you think, Near?” Rester asked.

“Gevanni has done well.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Rester sounded exasperated, and Naomi couldn’t hold in a snicker.

“Relax, Rester. This will all go more or less smoothly,” Naomi said.

“You sound convinced.”

Because if I die I see Raye again. And if I don’t, I get revenge. Either way, I’ll be at peace and I can move on.

“The handwriting on this matches Mikami’s handwriting on the investigation records he wrote as a prosecutor. This is definitely written by Mikami," Near said.

“Right.”

“Apart from Demegawa and the man on the train, everyone else’s name is written in after midnight. And only their names have been written down. A page per day. He stops killing people when the page is full. Yes, looks like I can put my plan into action.

“Commander Rester, get me Gevanni. … The photographs are very clear. We should be able to do it, then,” Near said.

“Right…?”

“But I was expecting the killer notebook to be much stranger, with some kind of magical power radiating from it. But it really is an ordinary notebook, just like Mello said.”

“Like he’d have a reason to lie when he came to HQ for an exchange?” Naomi pointed out.

“Still, you never know.”

“Either way, it still looks like a regular college notebook.”

“I can see that,” Naomi said.

“Anyways, the important thing is that your name isn’t written down in this, Gevanni,” Near said.

“Uh huh.”

“The notebook at the Japanese task force headquarters is under Mr Aizawa’s surveillance. So long as this notebook isn’t possessed by a Shinigami, I think it’s safe to say that you’re not being controlled by another Kira.”

“I told you that I’m fine. Do I look like I’m being controlled? If I was, I wouldn’t have been able to take those photographs in the first place,” Gevanni replied, distinctly peeved. Ah, I remember the days I’d be annoyed at a superior for supposed micromanagement.

“Just to be safe, please go down to the hospital to receive a complete physical exam to see if you’ve developed any illness.”

“Okay…”

“If you’re still alive 23 days after the first time you touched the notebook—on January 23rd—it means there was no Shinigami possessing the notebook when you touched it, and Mikami doesn’t know about you. And if there is no Shinigami, then there should be no problem with you tailing him, so after January 23rd, at the first possible opportunity, we’re going to settle this fight once and for all.

“Until then, we’ll concentrate on Light Yagami, Kiyomi Takada, and Teru Mikami—as we’ve been doing so far. But there’s one last thing we must do—every one of us, but especially you, Gevanni… I’m going to have to ask you to do something.”

⁂

Naomi exhaled and laid on her back. It was quickly approaching five in the morning, and she hadn’t slept since she woke up at six the previous day. Nausea was starting to set in. Whether it was from the sleep deprivation or the fact that she could only stomach liquid, only time would tell.

She stood and walked to the kitchen for what felt like the fifth time that day. Rester had went to sleep roughly an hour ago, and Gevanni had came in about 45 minutes ago. Stupidly enough, she was thinking about when Lidner would next come in.

Stupid.

Her and Lidner hadn’t seen much of each other since that spat and the fact that Lidner had the luck to come into that bodyguard job, but she managed to luck out—in its loosest form of use—and meet with Lidner.

“Listen, I really do want to say that I’m sorry for… bringing up your fiance like that,” Lidner said, cringing as she paused. “I definitely crossed a line and I’m sorry.”

Part of Naomi had wanted to say that she should fucking well be; there are plenty of things that are off limits and bringing up dead people close to you is one of them. Before she knew it, she was nodding. “I definitely shouldn’t have snapped at you as quickly as I did—even in having my grief prodded at like that.”

Lidner nodded. “It’s all right, I don’t blame you. Truce?”

They shook hands.

She was grateful to not have that to worry about, to say the least. The last thing she needed was to be perpetually kicking herself for spilling her guts to Lidner like that and reacting the way she did.

January 22 “It went well. I did everything you said.”

“Okay.” Vertebrae cracked in Near’s neck as he rotated it to get a closer look at his action figure. “Now, I want you to keep your eyes on Mikami as you’ve been doing, until the 24th. If you don’t notice anything different about Mikami by then, we’ll go head to head against L right away.”

Lidner walked in at midnight.

“Oh. You’re still here,” she said.

Naomi nodded. “Fortunately or not. I can’t sleep for the life of me.”

“Yeah, I feel you. Gevanni’s whiny ass is constantly talking about how screwed up his sleep schedule is, but I can’t say as I blame the man. Near gave me the rundown as to what was going on. Sounds exciting.” Lidner wiggled her toes as she stepped out of her heels. Naomi didn’t envy her.

“Agreed.” And here was the part that stuck in Naomi’s throat even as she rehearsed what she’d say. “Um, listen… if all doesn’t go well when we meet with L, I do want to say that I—”

Emotionally, it felt like Naomi had been hit in the chest with a sack of bricks. She didn’t feel it physically, thankfully, because that was always a sign that a panic attack was coming—and no one wanted to have a panic attack in front of a woman they were even remotely into.

She exhaled. “I’m going about this badly. I’m sorry if I’m wasting your time.”

“It’s all right. I think I’m overdue for having my time wasted by someone that’s not Kiyomi Takada.”

Naomi nodded, too wired to laugh however briefly. “I’m trying to say that I have f—” She winced. “I have fff—I like you a lot. A lot, a lot.”

“I would hope so. Having two coworkers at each others throats isn’t conducive to an environment like this one.” Lidner cleared her throat. “Lampshading aside, I…”

“I mean it’s fine if you don’t reciprocate I was just—” Naomi really regretted this now. Regret plus feeling like you’re replacing your dead fiance isn’t exactly conducive to coherency of a confession of romantic feelings of your coworker to said coworker.

“Hey! It’s all good. Truth be told, I like you that much too.”

Naomi exhaled. One thing out of her way. “But the thing is… I mean, I don’t want to presume or anything—”

“I don’t think you’d be presuming anything.” Lidner ran her tongue along her lower teeth. “If you’re talking about getting into a romantic relationship, I can say as I’m not ready for it.”

“Oh—Jesus, that’s a relief—I mean, I’m not either.” Naomi hit herself upside the head. “This is coming out badly.”

“It’s all good, I get what you’re trying to say. In the future, perhaps, but…”

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s not a good idea. And working for Near in the middle of the most controversial case in the world is a full time job.”

“Agreed.”

In an unexpected reaction, Lidner leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Naomi’s cheek. She retreated down the hall. Naomi didn’t realize she was repressing tears until her entire head and neck began to ache.

January 25 “I think this plan’s going to work,” Rester said.

“Gevanni here.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve checked the notebook. It’s been one page per day, as always, for the past three days. Those who’ve been killed match with the names in the notebook as well. And there’s nothing different about Mikami.”

“I see…”

“Everything’s set,” Rester said.

“Yes.”

Near called L two and some change hours later. “L.”

“What is it, Near?” L asked.

“I want to meet you.”

“Uh huh…”

“There’s something I must show you that pertains to the Kira case.”

So is that how he’s phrasing things? But I suppose that’s better sounding than “I’m about to show your entire team who you are and completely destroy you and your reputation with them.”

“But if you think I’m Kira, right? Then you shouldn’t want to show your face to me.”

“Well, I can’t really show you anything unless I show my face. Showing my face will reveal something, of course, and then will bring the case to a close.”

“Very well. I want you to realize that you’re wrong.”

You have a lot of nerve to say that, don’t you? You know, that arrogance will be what brings you down.

And I can’t wait to watch it happen.

“There are several rules I must ask you to follow in order for us to meet.”

“Go ahead. You’re the one who suspects me of being Kira, so I’m sure you want to state which conditions we meet under. We don’t have any.”

“First of all, investigators from both sides are to be there. In other words, everyone who is looking for Kira will be there when we meet each other.”

“Why all of our investigators?”

“If you and I are to meet face to face, there ought to be witnesses. And even if I succeed in proving that you’re Kira, you could always take the extreme of strangling me.” Near’s brow furrowed as he added, “We’ve all been risking our lives to find Kira. if I prove Kira’s identity there, then everyone has the right—no, the responsibility—to attend. And by having everyone there, I want to make sure that any information about this meeting or my face doesn’t go public.” Near took a breath. “Everyone on this case will see what happens at this meeting—and after they see the outcome and the reality of the whole story, we’ll cooperate and decide what to do next.”

“Okay, I’m fine with that.”

Near moved his hand closer to the Misa figurine he made, hands splayed almost like an OK sign. “As I said before, there are five of us, including me. That’s everyone in the SPK. I’ll have Mr Mogi, who I’m keeping in my custody, accompany me there. I’ll release Amane before that—” and to demonstrate, he flicked the figurine, “and be sure not to tell her where we’ll be meeting.” The figurine rolled. “You can meet me after you make sure she’s actually been released. How does that sound?”

“Very well.”

Near began to stand. “Mr Aizawa will be able to tell you if the five people you see, plus Mr Mogi, are the real members of the SPK.”

“To me, it doesn’t really matter if the person who appears there is Near or not. You’ve just been stressing that point because you believe that I’m Kira, and that I won’t appear unless I know that you’re really going to come—right?”

Near paused, considering his actions.

What sort of attempted checkmate is this? You know this, the task force knows this, the rest of us know this. And the task force is—I assume—not largely full of idiots. And I’d think you’d have learned your lesson after the whole Lind L Tailor incident almost a decade ago.

“We’ve had many conversations like this in the past. Even if I don’t know your face, I’m sure I can figure out if it’s the real you once I talk to you in person. But I’ll make sure to have Aizawa tell me to double check.”

“I agree with that…”

I think, if I took a scalpel and some other tools to his skull, I’d find the gears turning in his head, Naomi thought.

“We have five investigators including me and Mogi. You’ll have to trust me on that. We’re a small group of people chasing Kira in a world like this, so I’d like to quickly settle this problem and cooperate with you and your team.”

“Very well…” Near settled into a position almost similar to her unprivate detective acquaintance in LA. “As for the place we’re going to meet, I’m thinking of one where the people inside can’t be seen from the outside.”

“You suspect me of being Kira, so it’s the natural thing to do.”

“I want it to be a place that can’t be seen even with telescopic lenses and whatnot, so I’d rather it had four walls and a roof.”

“Do you have some place in mind?"

“Daikoku Wharf. There’s an abandoned warehouse on the southeast side, called the yellow box. If that’s fine with you, I’ve taken the liberty of buying it. There’s nothing around it, and the place is empty as well. I’m sending you an image.”

Near smirked. “It’s not locked, so you can go and see it for yourself whenever you want to. And if you don’t like it, I can look for another place.” He smiled toothily. “And each of us can check for hidden cameras when we enter the building.”

“Do you have any other requirements to make sure that your face isn’t known to anyone outside of that warehouse?"

“Yes. I’d like to prohibit any communication equipment when you enter. That’s to ensure that nothing that goes on on the inside gets leaked. And to be sure that no one takes a photograph of me on their phone.”

Naomi held in laughter. What a nice callback to the incident with the girl on the train.

“No communication equipment. Okay.”

“I’d also like someone apart from L to bring the notebook from your headquarters.”

“Why do you need it?"

Near reached for a clay replica of the notebook. “Simple. If every one of you leaves the headquarters, no one will be left to guard the notebook. I promise you that I won’t try to take it from you. And I’ll refrain from touching it. If Mr Aizawa claims that the notebook you brought is the one from headquarters, I’ll believe it. But, again, please make sure that someone other than L is carrying it. Understood?”

“Very well, Near. But I can’t overlook the chances of you conspiring with someone on my side to steal the notebook. I won’t carry the notebook, but I’ll choose who carries it. Is that okay?”

“Yes. The only thing that’s left to settle is the date and time of our meeting.” Near got onto all fours.

“Of course…”

“How about three days from now, on the 28th at one PM?”

“Any time’s fine with us.”

“Remember, three days from now at three o’clock.”

“Yes.”

January 26 “Near, Mello kidnapped Takada,” Lidner relayed.

Near paused. “Lidner, have you been leaking information about our investigation to Mello?”

Lidner paused. “Yes… But I haven’t told him about Mikami.”

“If that’s the case, we should still be okay. But if Mello finds out about Mikami from Takada and seeks him out, this will all be a waste. I want you to find Takada—no. I want you to stop Mello at all costs.”

“But—”

Near’s tone brokered no argument: “Do it.”

“All right.”

Near called L.

A task force member said, “It’s Near. Maybe it’s his usual ‘I took the liberty of confining her’ routine.”

“L, I’m not the one who kidnapped Takada.”

“I see. Then that means… Mello.”

“Yes. I’ll be honest with you. The individual I have guarding Takada has told me so.”

“Near, don’t you have means of contacting him?”

“It’s no use. I can try to contact Mello, but he’ll never respond to me. He must plan on capturing Kira himself, using Takada as bait.” Near pouted and twirled around the microphone. “I didn’t want him interfering for the next three days, and I really do mean that.”

“Very well. I trust your words and I believe that you’re not collaborating with Mello.”

“I’m going to track them down with everything I’ve got.”

“I’ll do the same.”

⁂

“So, please keep your eyes on Mikami as long as possible, making sure to arrive at Daikoku Wharf by one PM on the 28th.” Everyone in the room minus Lidner gave acknowledgement.

The screen beeped. “It’s Lidner,” Rester said.

“Get her on the screen please.”

“Near.”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry. I never thought that Mello would…”

“It’s okay.” Near moved down to eye level with his figurines. “Everything will be fine so long as Light Yagami goes through with our meeting as planned.”

He called L.

“L.”

“Yes?”

“Granted, we’ve had some distractions. But I want to confirm our meeting is staying where it was.”

“Of course.”

“As for our conditions—they’ll remain in place. Right?”

You’re practically daring him to say no, aren’t you, Naomi thought.

“Yes. I didn’t set any of the conditions anyways.”

“Then I’ll see you on the 28th.”

He hung up.

“Gevanni?”

“Yes?”

Near wiggled his L figurine on his finger. Naomi wanted to crawl out of her skin. “Will you make it?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Commander Rester, Lidner, Gevanni, Maki… Let’s put our best into this.”

Naomi nodded.

Relief and anxiety curled up in her chest and made their homes.

January 28 “I’m heading down with Mr Mogi and Amane in my car,” Lidner reported.

“Mikami went to work at the usual time. Nothing out of the ordinary," Gevanni reported.

“Start heading over there,” Near instructed.

“Will do.”

Near called the task force.

“Good morning, everyone.” He brought a knee up to his chest and rested his temple on it. “For starters, I’ve released Amane. You can call her if you’d like to check for yourself.”

“Near, please get Mogi on the line for me. In order for us to bring the notebook, we need a PIN number that only Mogi knows.”

“I’ll get him right away.” Near patched Mogi through to the rest of the task force.

"Near, I have the notebook right here. I’ll take it along with me,” Aizawa says.

“Are you sure about Mr Aizawa handing the notebook?” Near asked.

“I’ve decided that Aizawa would be the best choice.”

If Naomi could’ve, she would’ve glared at L. This was just plain irritating. The second his face got rubbed in the fact that the SPK was right all along, she could die happy.

“Thank you. See you at the warehouse, then.”

Naomi threw up a wave as Aizawa entered the warehouse. The plastic L mask still made her skin crawl.

And then the task force entered.

She could’ve sworn that she saw just a hint of recognition on Light Yagami’s face.

Hm.

“Those are definitely the SPK. Near’s the one with the mask.”

“Yes,” Mogi said. “I was with Near even before he put the mask on. It sure is him.”

“Whether the real Near is here or not is of no interest to me,” Yagami said.

Naomi clenched her jaw, biting back a retort of something like “you clearly haven’t learned your lesson from the Lind L Tailor incident.”

“Wait a minute,” a task force member said, “I don’t care who he accuses of being Kira. But that mask proves he’s only trying to protect only himself.”

“It would be kind of redundant to hide our faces, seeing as how all but one of us have been sighted by Takada before,” Naomi muttered.

“Matsuda, Near thinks I’m Kira. It can’t be helped,” Yagami said.

“He was talking so much about seeing you face to face. It’s not fair!”

Naomi was beginning to get a headache.

It was about to get worse.

“I’m telling you,” Yagami said, and that alone made Naomi want to claw at him and beat him to a pulp, “Near has his own ideas about what’s going on here, so it’s not going to help if we complain about it. Let’s get on with this.”

Near smirked thinly and touched the mask. “This mask is just insurance.”

He was in for it, no matter if he was taken into their custody.

“Insurance?” Matsuda repeated.

“I’m confident that both Kira and the person being ordered to do the killings—X Kira—don’t know my face. But there’s a possibility that everyone else’s face is known to these individuals in question.” He knocked down the figurines of the SPK. “Of course, this is all assuming that L is Kira. So, since the time and place for our meeting was decided upon three days ago, there’s a chance that everyone else’s name, excluding mine, may already be written down in the notebook to be killed.

“If that were to happen, only Kira and I would be left, and all Kira would have to do is write my name in the notebook that Mr Aizawa has with him right now. Though it’s my hypothesis that the Kira here doesn’t have the ability to kill just from looking at our faces.

“So, please give me an hour—no, 30 minutes—to be sure that no one else here is already marked to die by the notebook.”

“You’re waiting to see if we die?” Matsuda asked.

“That’s okay,” Yagami said. “We’ll let Near do as he likes. If not, we won’t be able to clear things up.” He turned to Near. “I believe that you’re the actual Near, and I care little about the face behind the mask. What I’d like to see is what you were going to show me pertaining to the Kira case.”

Near twirled a strand of hair. “That can only be revealed to you after I take my mask off.”

“You can’t show the evidence to us unless you take the mask off, but you’re not going to take it off? Aren’t you contradicting yourself?” Matsuda demanded.

“He means he’s going to take it off once he makes sure that everyone else remains alive,” Yagami clarified. Near confirmed as much.

You sure seem agitated, seeing as how you can’t keep Near’s stipulations straight, Naomi thought.

“It’s been more than 30 minutes—and nothing’s happened.”

“Of course,” Yagami said. “That’s because Kira isn’t here.”

Near took off the rubber band. “Very well. It seems you’re all safe. I’ll go ahead and take off the mask.”

He smirked immediately.

“Okay, so now that you’ve taken the mask off, what are you going to show us?”

“Don’t rush him,” a task force member chided.

“I’m sorry,” Near said, “but you’re going to have to wait again.”

“Again?! What are we waiting for?”

“Excuse me, do you think this is a massive waste of time or something?” Naomi asked. “If you want to prove that your leader isn’t Kira so badly, shut up and wait.”

She didn’t typically have such a short fuse or snap at people so easily. But she was face to face with the one who killed her fiance; and as much as she’d like to get this out of the way and take him into custody already, the fact that he’d have his face rubbed in the SPK’s being right would feel a little bit better than if they took him into custody without much of an explanation. And it’d help out if they could make the task force see reason.

“Oh, I’m sorry—”

Key word being if.

“Enough,” Yagami said.

“We’re waiting for the one who’ll solve everything to arrive,” Near said. He exhaled. “I assure you that this person will come. So we must wait. This building is completely sealed. The only way to look inside is to open that door right there. Therefore, this person will come through that door, or try to peek through it.”

“Who’s going to come…? This meeting was kept a secret from everyone except those who are here right now.”

“That’s right. So the person coming is X-Kira, Kira’s most loyal follower, who learned about our location from none other than Kira himself.” He paused. “Mr Aizawa. You kept an eye on L even after Takada died, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then X-Kira will come. Kira used Takada to contact X-Kira.

“The night we decided when and where to meet, L met Takada, and Takada relayed the information to X-Kira. I am completely sure of this. But Mello’s kidnapping of Takada was a surprise to L and I. With Takada dead, L could no longer contact X-Kira and was unable to call his plan off.” He knocked down the Takada figurine. Near tilted his head. “Actually, it would’ve been meaningless for him to call everything off. The thought wouldn’t have crossed his mind because he didn’t want to interfere with his plan or mind.”

And Matsuda and his co-worker immediately launched into contrarianism:

“Why do you assume L is Kira?”

“Yeah, if a third party is really going to show up here, isn’t it more likely that you’re the one behind it all?”

Ah, this is familiar. I almost feel like I’m 27 again and watching the NPA and L squabble. Maybe without all the signs of aging. Thank God for retinol and sunscreen.

“No, because the person we’re waiting for is the person currently in charge of carrying out Kira’s judgements. So, obviously, this person is coming under Kira’s orders.”

“Hey, wait a minute. If this person is the one doing the killings, you also mean they’re bringing the notebook too?”

“Yes, this person will bring the notebook for sure. And then, after looking at my face, will write down my name.” Near mimed this scenario with the figurines of X-Kira/Mikami and himself.

“So you’re going to prove that this person is Kira’s henchman by being killed?!”

“No, rather by having him try to kill me. There was a similar stunt that was pulled when L was investigating the Yotsuba Group.”

“Wait a minute,” Aizawa said.

“Yes?”

“If X-Kira is going to kill you, then they’d need to kill everyone here, since we all know about the notebook.”

“That’s right. It would be the perfect victory for Kira, not to mention the sole reason Kira agreed to this meeting in the first place.”

“I… I don’t get it,” Matsuda said. “What are you meaning? The third party is going to bring the notebook here to kill us?”

“And you’re asking us to stand here and watch?” Ide asked.

“That’s right,” Near said calmly.

“That’s ridiculous! Then you’ll be playing into Kira’s hands. We’re going to lose no matter what we do.”

“No. We’ll win. If you all do as I say, we’ll win without a doubt. So, if X-Kira enters through that door, I want you all to let him in. And if that door opens, however slightly, I want you all to pretend not to notice.”

Aizawa wrestled with himself. “You’re making it sound like you’re Kira. You’re the one who proposed the idea that we meet here, and now you’re asking for us to let our names be written down in the notebook. It’s only natural for us to think that. But… I’ll do as you say.”

“I’m with Aizawa,” Mogi said. Matsuda muttered dissent.

“He’s already here,” Near said. Naomi's headache was getting considerably worse.

Yeah, that’s one way to make them listen, she thought.

They stood in silence for roughly a half minute.

“I can’t just watch!” Matsuda snapped, bringing a revolver out of his jacket’s inner pocket.

“Don’t move!” Rester snapped, lining Matsuda up with his sights. Gevanni followed suit.

“Are you kidding me?” Matsuda exclaimed.

Naomi whistled. “Sorry, Near. First of all, don’t point your guns unless you intend to fire, Rester and Gevanni." (To this, Gevanni glowered and lowered his after Rester did.) "Second of all, what did Near say? Pretend that nothing is happening.”

“You expect me just to sit there while our names are being written?”

“I’m sorry, I thought I said ‘pretend nothing is happening’!” She put her hands on her hips and glared.

“Enough!” Near said. “I said that you won’t die. Please be still. Everyone relax, please.” He took a breath. “Even if our names are being written down, we won’t die. Kira’s identity will finally be revealed.”

“How can you be so sure?” Aizawa asked.

Near held up the miniature notebook he made. “I’ve tampered with the notebook. We managed to get it into our possession and replaced the pages. The person behind the door—the one in charge of the actual killing—has been filling up one page every day, so I just calculated which page would correspond with today’s date, and replaced all the subsequent pages.”

“Replaced?”

“You actually got a hold of it?”

“The person writing the names down outside will eventually look inside to see if we’ve all died. At which point we’ll seize him, and the individual whose name isn’t written down in the notebook will inevitably be Kira.”

Aizawa agreed, while his coworker was borderline speechless.

“To the one outside,” Yagami said, “did you write the names down in the notebook?”

“I did,” X-Kira answered, almost reverent.

“That’s strange,” Near said, half to his thighs. “Why would he reply in earnest, yes I did when you asked him if he wrote the names down?”

“Who knows?” Yagami replied. “Maybe he’s honest, or is confident for some reason. It may be that he knows your plan.”

Naomi barely resisted rolling her eyes.

“Teru Mikami, why don’t you come in here?” Near ventured.

There was a pause.

“Teru Mikami, right?” Yagami said, looking smugger by the second. “Stop hiding and come inside.”

Still no Mikami.

“Teru Mikami, I know that you’re in charge of carrying out Kira’s killings right now. You’ve already written the names down, so there’s nothing to be afraid of. Please come in. Or did Kira order you not to?”

“Your wish is my command, God,” Mikami said, his expression almost malicious in his devotion.

Naomi almost recoiled in horror.

“How many seconds has it been since you wrote the first name down?” Yagami asked.

“35… 36… 37… 38… 39…”

“I win, Near,” Yagami said.

That sure is one way to dig your own grave, Naomi thought.

“40!”

Still, Naomi clenched her fists and waited for the pain Raye must’ve felt in his chest.

“We… We’re not dead! It’s been a minute and we’re not dead!”

“I’ve been telling you that no one would die,” Near said.

Naomi traded a glance with Lidner. Even the SPK didn’t have a hundred percent faith in this plan.

“Why? Why won’t they die?!” Mikami said. “G-God—I did everything you told me!”

Near signalled Rester and Gevanni to take Mikami into custody.

“The notebook, Gevanni,” Near said. He held up the notebook once Gevanni brought it over. “See for yourselves.”

The task force took in every word.

“The first five names are unmistakably the real names of the SPK members. And the only one missing from this list is Light Yagami. The first nail in the casket was Mikami calling you God, and the other was that he said he did as you told him to.” He brought the notebook down. “This proves it.”

“This is a trap! Near set this whole thing up to frame me! It’s impossible that no one’s dead after their names have been written in the notebook!” Yagami screamed.

Near tilted his head to the side. “But I told you no one would die because I replaced the pages.”

“That’s—this is a setup. I don’t know this guy!”

Mikami wailed and sagged.

Aizawa approached Yagami and put a hand on his shoulder. “Light, it’s too late. Near wins. Just a second ago, you declared that you won. That’s as good a confession as any.”

Matsuda repeated Yagami’s given name and sank to his knees. “Why…?”

Mogi broke ranks and brought out his handcuffs. Yagami ran, slipping and faceplanting, then leaned against the warehouse wall.

“This is it,” Near said. “You lose. You claimed your victory a second ago. And to tell you the truth, you might have won and I’d have lost if it weren’t for one thing. You had Mikami use the fake notebook and had him carry it around in front of us so we’d believe it was the real thing. You even went so far as to suspect that I would replace the pages of the fake notebook, so that I wouldn’t die even if my name was written in it. Things turned out exactly as you expected, and we replaced the pages in the fake notebook.

“That was the plan I had in mind as well. I replaced the pages of the notebook that happened to be a fake, and you had Mikami bring the real notebook out for the first time to kill all of us. And that was your plan. But when I said that I replaced the pages in the notebook, I meant the real one as well. Meaning that I tampered with both the fake and real notebooks. I replaced only a part of the fake notebook, and I replaced the pages of the real notebook completely.” To demonstrate, he pulled the replica notebook from the Mikami figurine, revealing a FAKE label across the back.

Near brought out the real notebook from under his shirt. “This is the real notebook. Gevanni did it overnight. Whether he was able to replace all of it or not was the key to this plan. He did replace a part of the fake notebook with ease, but it was quite difficult to make a forged copy of the real one. Gevanni promised me, however, that it could be done.

“He used the same pen Mikami used, copied Mikami’s handwriting to perfection, and even made a perfect copy of the cover in addition to the interior pages. And since I’d touched the notebook beforehand, I could see the Shinigami from the moment you entered this warehouse. Nice to meet you, Mr Shinigami. I’m Near.”

Hair stood up on the back of Naomi’s neck.

“Ryuk… until today, I always believed that Shinigami had skulls for faces and carried sickles. … I looked through this notebook and found some pages that were clipped out. Can it be that people die even if you write names on pages that have been cut out? … Even pieces are effective… I’m sure there must have been many uses for that. I can’t even begin to think of how many people were killed and deceived because of that.”

“I almost died with that method. My fiance, the busjacker,” Naomi said. “Others, I assume.”

Yagami’s face lit with recognition.

“Raye Penber…”

She nodded, throwing a thin and outright malicious smile to him. “The one and only.”

“That’s one hell of an indictment,” Rester said. (He wasn’t the only one surprised; Gevanni was gaping and Lidner’s eyes were wide.)

“That anecdote just proves something that the previous L knew. Light Yagami, you are Kira.”

Yagami stood in silence, calculating.

“You’re wrong,” Near said, holding his Mello figurine. “I owe this to Mello. I’m sure you understand what I mean by that.” He flipped the notebook’s pages. “Look at the page I just turned to. This is the fake notebook we created, but it’s exactly the same as the real one. The first line of the page on the left…”

Kiyomi Takada. Suicide; burns to death by setting fire to everything around her, including what she wrote. January 26th, 2:33 PM.

Yagami and Mikami stared at each other. “If Takada was in a situation like that, then it’s my job to…,” Mikami said.

“That’s right. When Mello kidnapped Takada, Mikami took out the real notebook—the one he had hidden in a safe deposit box at the bank… and wrote Takada’s name down.”

“After Takada’s kidnapping was announced on the news, Mikami broke from his schedule. October 25th was a Sunday, so he went on the 26th. But all other previous months he’d went to the bank on the 25th. Mikami rarely breaks from his habits, so it immediately stood out to me. I entered the bank and saw Mikami go into the safe deposit room. This was the first time I’d seen him concerned if someone was following him,” Gevanni explained.

“Mikami lives a completely fixed life, but suddenly broke from his routine as Takada was kidnapped. I wonder how much can be explained away, if at all. Going to the bank for two days in a row… I’ll be honest, I only thought about the possibility of the notebook being a fake after Gevanni told me of this. Though, come to think of it, we should’ve suspected that when he took a picture of a man harassing a woman on a train before supposedly writing his name down, and when he talked to himself about the Shinigami not appearing to him. The fact that we found out so quickly about Mikami actually worked against us.

“But until then, we were completely tricked by you, Takada, and Mikami, and had replaced the pages in the fake book. So we’d have lost if I hadn’t found out. When Mello kidnapped Takada, you were no longer able to get into contact with Mikami. But Mikami still made his move for you, to perfection in his role as Kira’s stand-in. His overt adoration, sense of responsibility and attention to detail, and his intelligence worked against him at this time.

“It wasn’t difficult for us to sneak into the safe deposit room to crack it. It was an old fashioned safe at a local bank. And since you allowed us to look through Mikami’s bag when he was at the gym, we already had made copies of all his keys and cards.”

“It was easy. Once I got inside, there was a notebook with Takada’s name written in it,” Gevanni added.

“And an idiot would figure out everything from there.” Near added, “This is very interesting. In the fake notebook, the one we replaced the pages of first, one page was filled in with names every day, but the real one jumps from November 25th to January 26th, when Takada’s name was written down. So that means you, Light Yagami, had Mikami walk around with a fake notebook starting two months in advance to trick us.

“Before January 26th, the time of death wasn’t specified, same as in the fake notebook. But after Takada’s name was written in it, all the judgements for January 26th were set to the early hours of the 27th, and the judgements for the 27th were set for the early hours of the 28th.

“In the fake notebook that Mikami made, Takada’s name is probably written down exactly like this, but the rest of the page is only names and no written down conditions for their death. So that means that when Mikami wrote Takada’s name in the real notebook on the 26th, he also wrote the names of those people who were to be ‘brought to justice’ on the 26th and 27th.

“Mikami could’ve killed the people using the scraps from the notebook, but if he wrote on them in his house, assuming we’d have installed a camera, we might have found out about the fake notebook and the fact that you can kill people with just a scrap of it.

“In order to make Mikami’s notebook look real, you probably cut the pages out and handed them to Takada and had her actually do all the killings. All Mikami had to do was send a list of people to be killed via cell phone or computer and delete the data.

“For the deaths on the 26th and 27th, you might have had him send a list of people to Takada after she was kidnapped, but just in case, Mikami wrote those names down too when he wrote Takada’s name. As for the 28th, today’s killings would be at your leisure, since it would’ve been after you killed us.

“So, though it’s nothing I would’ve taken notice of under normal circumstances, if you look closely, there aren’t any killings of new criminals on the 26th or 27th. And that’s because Mikami wasn’t allowed to take out the notebook until today. And according to your plan, that shouldn’t have happened no matter what.

“And thought I don’t know who was first, this means that you killed Takada too. Since the scraps of the notebook can be used to kill people, it’s hard to believe you wouldn’t have had one on you. Because you killed her too, the announcement of Takada’s death was reported on the news quickly, and since Mikami also knew of her death, you wouldn’t have assumed that Mikami made a move on his own.” Near dropped the notebook. “Too bad. When Mello kidnapped Takada, Mikami wrote her name down in the real notebook too.”

Mikami and Yagami stared at each other again.

“For both you and me…,” Near began, “having Mikami write down our names on the page on the right was the plan. We had to do that. If not, we wouldn’t have been able to capture Mikami, get the notebook from him, or take a look at the notebook. Whether the page on the left was filled with names or not, it had to be the page on the right. And you tried to kill us by having us replace the pages of a fake notebook and having Mikami bring the real one here, but we went a step beyond you by having Mikami bring a fake version of the notebook. It’s a lot harder to find out that the notebook has been switched if you replace the whole notebook rather than just a part of it.

“Of course, this is in large part due to Rester and Gevanni’s efforts in duplicating the notebook in a day. But the biggest thanks goes to the one who created this situation. Mello.”

Lidner suddenly looked very sad. She looked askance. “Mello may have known about it. I told Mello that Near was talking about bringing an end to this case with his own hands. But now that I think of it, he…” She stopped, frowning. “After a long silence, he just said then I guess I’m going to have to do it, and hung up.”

She sighed. “At first, I thought he only meant that he was going to bring an end to the case before Near. But if Mello hadn’t made his move, then we would’ve…”

You’re telling me I owe my life to a corpse? Naomi thought.

“The fact that we replaced the pages in the notebook, and that notebook happened to be a face, I find it hard to believe that Mello thought that far ahead. But, I’m sure that he was always trying to get ahead of me. And that’s not all—even if he didn’t surpass me…” Near wet his lip. “Even if he didn’t…”

Rester traded looks with Gevanni, who traded looks with Naomi, who traded looks with Lidner, who traded looks with Rester.

“Mello always said that he was going to be number one, and that he was going to be better than me and L. But I always knew I would never be able to surpass L. It could be that I lack attention span and he lacked impulse control. And even thought we couldn’t surpass the one we admired on our own—together, we can stand with L. Together we can surpass L. And now, we’re facing Kira, whom L could find no proof against, the very Kira who L was defeated by, and facing him with solid evidence before his own eyes.”

Near let that sink in.

He kept the puppets up.

“Let’s try to see you talk your way out of this one.”

Yagami screamed, high pitched. All the klaxons in Naomi’s brain fired, telling her to get the hell out of there, because something was deeply wrong.

Yagami began to shake.

And he began to laugh.

Against all her primal instincts, Naomi stayed.

He cackled for a good half minute.

Every muscle in Naomi’s body tensed. Every hair stood on end.

“That’s right,” he said, staggering to stand, “I am Kira.”

#so if u listened to that italian dub was that terrifying or what #apparently the VA did it in one take at *18 years old*#that's fucking cool #tws in post #my writing

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himbowelsh · 4 years

Note

Well if its my brand you can hardly blame me for asking for more. Shifty/tab and the prompt stab wounds? Thanks so much :) youre a star 🌟🌟🌟

a little fall of meme can hardly hurt me now ( accepting )

It probably says something that this isn’t the first time Tab’s gotten stabbed. Hell… it’s not the first time this year. Not the first time these past few months. Not the first time he’s gotten stabbed in that same damned shoulder.

What’s it Lieutenant Welsh likes to say? “War is hell?” No kidding.

Of course, this time he fancies it's a bit more serious than the last time. Smith gave him a good poke, and then he was done. The German soldier they found hiding under a hay bale, Nazi-issued blade in hand, was a lot more determined. He landed three solid hits — two to Tab’s shoulder, and one to his chest — before Shifty’s quick reflexes took him out.

And now… well. Tab would take the night of the bayonet over this any day.

“It’s not so bad.” Shifty’s voice is soft and low, intent in the way only he can be. Instead of looking at Tab, his dark gaze is fixed firmly on his own hands. He can’t decide which injury to put pressure on, because there are just too many; torn, he darts back and forth between them all, bearing down until the worst of the bleeding ceases. Every time Shifty presses a little harder, Tab’s ribs feel ready to give out; with each breath, a little more blood bubbles out of the wounds, soaking Shifty’s fingers bright red.

“Not bad at all.” Murmuring seems to help — Shifty, that is, even if it doesn’t do much for Tab. “They aren’t so deep... enough to draw blood, but I don’t believe they’ve hit anything vital.”

“Ah, great. Just my body. Nothing important, then.”

“Nothing you can’t recover from.” Shifty huffs, pressing hard against Tab’s shoulder. Unwillingly, a whimper escapes the wounded man; it happens too fast for Tab to help it, but he bites down on his lip a second later. No crying, idiot. Not like it really hurts, anyway… it hurt when it happened, but now everything just feels sort of distant. A numb pain, compared to the agony of actually getting stabbed. They don’t mention that part in army training — after a while, mortal injuries just become old hat. Kind of boring, really.

(Oh god, he’s stabbed in three goddamn places, he’s lost a lot of blood, oh god —)

Shifty’s gaze is on him, too sympathetic for Tab to bear. He closes his eyes instead, head hitting the wooden barn door behind him. “No medic yet? N-n sign of anybody?”

“Tab,” replies Shifty. “There could well be a marching band out there, trumpets and all, but I wouldn’t know it. Right now, I’m only worried about you.”

Any other day, those words would leave him feeling dizzy and warm all over. At the moment, he just feels — well, dizzy, definitely, but cold. The heat is leeching out of his limbs with every drop of blood, and that’s probably a bad thing… but the more the world goes blurry at the edges, the easier it is to stare at Shifty’s face. He focuses on that, on the steady presence hovering above him, rather than the increasing certainty that he’s in trouble.

He doesn’t want to die like this. It’s a horrible thought to have, one he shouldn’t even entertain, but — god, there’s so much he hasn’t done. He still has to post that letter to his Ma, and his brother just turned eighteen, he hasn’t even written… and Trigger is waiting back at base somewhere, hoping he’ll come back with a treat… how disappointed will he be if Tab doesn’t come back at all? No way. Can’t happen. He’s got to make it out of here, if only for the dog’s sake.

“If no one’s coming to get us,” he manages after a painful, silent moment, “then we’ve gotta get moving ourselves.”

It takes a second for his words to sink in. When they do, Shifty’s eyes widen. “Like this? You can’t!”

“I can.”

“Tab, you’re in no shape to —“

Tab pushes himself up, bracing himself against Shifty’s shoulder for balance. As soon as his friend’s weight lands against him, Shifty goes silent. “As long as I’ve got you,” Tab grits out, “I can do it. We can.”

Shifty’s lips flutter as the words wash over him. Tab’s heart pounds hard, like it’s ready to burst.

“Now, come on, Shift,” he says, and hauls himself to his feet.

It’s a bad idea. Almost immediately, the world flickers out like a broken projector reel, and his legs turn to noodles under him. It takes Tab a moment to realize he hasn’t hit the ground at all. By the time it dawns on him, Shifty’s already got a firm grip, one arm around his waist as he slings Tab’s arm over his shoulders. Because it’s the most he can do at this point, Tab clings to him.

“I’ve got you,” Shifty says… and his voice is so soft, so steady, that Tab could anchor himself to it forever. It leaves him feeling… steady. As long as Shifty’s by his side, he’s not going anywhere… anywhere except back to the company, that is. Back to safety, back home. “Right, now. We’ve got to get you moving. Move with me, Tab.” Shifty takes one step forward, urging him to do the same. Somehow, Tab manages. The bright blossoms of crimson along his army greens feel uncomfortably wet, but they don’t seem to be growing much bigger. Hit nothing important, except me, Tab’s hazy mind echoes, and he could almost burst into laughter on the spot.

Instead, he walks. With Shifty setting the pace, it’s easy to follow. By the time they break out of the barn and into daylight, it feels like being reborn. The chilly Holland air wakes him up a bit. Tab inhales a deep breath, ignoring the pulse of pain in his chest.

“Just fine that you can still breathe like that. If it were your lungs punctured, you’d be having a lot more trouble.”

Shifty says this so casually that Tab can’t help stumbling. Without faltering a step, Shifty’s arm just tightens around Tab’s waist; he keeps urging him forward.

Some things, Tab would never say out loud on a good day… but today has been a very, very bad day. He’s lost enough blood to keep somebody else alive; his body’s aching, heart pounding, and with the world spinning around him as it is the only constant is Shifty. His mind wanders in a thousand directions, but somehow they all begin and end with the man beside him. And of course, Tab would never say some things out loud, but sometimes… a fella just doesn’t know when he’ll get the chance again.

“Y’know, Shift…” he declares, words half-slurred and half-coherent. “You’re somethin’ else.”

“Am I, Tab?”

“Absolutely.” Tab’s head lolls against Shifty’s shoulder, but he doesn’t stop. They keep walking — one foot after the other. “I think… you’re the bravest guy I’ve ever met.”

Shifty doesn’t reply for a long moment — so long that Tab’s not sure he hasn’t dozed off, just to wake up somewhere nicer — but when he does speak, his voice is soft, warm with what could almost be humor. “I wouldn’t say that at all,” Shifty replies. “Or… I might say the same thing, as a matter of fact, but it wouldn’t be about myself.” A pause, almost tentative. “You know who I’d say it about, Tab.”

Sure do, Tab thinks, forcing his heavy limbs to keep pressing forward. He knows. Everybody knows. Ask anyone, and they’d say the same thing. After all… how could there be any doubt in anybody’s mind that Shifty Powers is the best damn man in this company?

#shifty powers #floyd talbert #band of brothers #shiftab #this ship is so wholesome even when one of them is bleeding out #like... the other ones are so SWEARY #webgott especially lol #but these two are just... pure good boys #my writing #Anonymous

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cinnaminsvga · 5 years

Text

fox rain | one

→ summary: When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.

→ pairing: bts x reader (feat. seokjin) → genre: college!au, crack, fluff, angst → warnings: none unless you count overly graphic descriptions of how stupid seokjin is (i’m sorry for always making him so dumb) → words: 10.4K → a/n: i know i say this a lot, but this literally the STUPIDEST thing i’ve ever written in my life. i’ve lost maybe ten braincells per word in this fic, and i’m proud of it gdi!! some of my best jokes are in this mess, and that’s saying a lot considering my whole life is a joke. also: check bio for the chapter links for now!

— • masterlist | prev | one | next • —

When you feel yourself awakening, for a moment, you think you might have been hungover. The usual disembodiment you feel after a night out of drinking is what greets you when the last dredges of sleep start to fade out of your periphery, added with the insatiable urge to piss the equivalent of the volume of the Atlantic Ocean. There are weights over your eyes, you surmise, because there is no way you will be able to open them long enough to see whether you were actually dead.

But of course, you are still subjected to the curse of human curiosity, which allows you to gather enough strength to squint blearily and access your current surroundings.

You are greeted by the sight of unfamiliar overhead lights and sterile white walls. The window just to your left shows the darkened sky, the moon creeping just behind the evergreen trees. Groaning slightly, you push yourself into a sitting position, a sudden wave of vertigo slamming into you like a supernova. As you survey the room some more, you notice the sound of muffled conversation going on behind the nearby sheer curtain, and the smell of antiseptic wafts its way into your nostrils. You’re in the nurse’s office, you realize belatedly, grasping the threadbare sheets of your university’s barebones version of a hospital bed.

You put your head into your hands, breathing deeply as you try to remember the last thing that happened to you.

Yoongi’s dick. The stupid e-mail. The poem. The conspiracy group. Seokjin on a pedestal giving a TedTalk about himself. Yoongi’s dick. Namboob. Fainting in the utility closet. Yoongi’s dick.

The mental gymnastics that your brain is currently undergoing elicits a sound akin to a dying squirrel from your open mouth, and it must have sounded terribly loud and unnerving because the nurse bursts into the room just a few seconds after. The nurse, who must have been an underpaid med student by the looks of the designer purple handbags decorating her sullen cheeks, looks at you with less genuine concern and more acute abhorrence.

In your drowsiness, you don’t realize that your throat had somehow converted into the Sahara desert when you had fainted, so you are just as surprised as the nurse when you start doing a wonderful impersonation of Sadako instead.

“Hoo bwat meh hey?” you articulate, your tongue feeling like an oversized fist trying to work its way from out of your larynx. At the very least, no one can blame you for not trying your best to sound coherent. Seeing your struggle, the apathetic nurse has the decency to reach behind one of the shelves and hand you a cup of water. You grab it from her, gulping the entire thing in one go all while you proceed to not care about the rivulets of water and drool trailing down your chin and onto your crotch.

“Sorry,” you say, not really knowing why you were apologizing in the first place. Perhaps for existing? “I was trying to ask who brought me here.”

The nurse, unsurprisingly, only gives you an indifferent shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know. Some gray-haired twink came in with you on his back. Apparently, you fainted in front of him for no reason, and when we checked your vitals, everything seemed to be fine.” She gestures at your ragged form, almost as if she didn’t believe that they hadn’t found anything wrong with you. You are obliged to share her sentiments.

“You’re free to leave whenever you want. Just make sure to sleep more and eat. University is tough on kids like you,” she says, turning to leave without another look in your direction. Somehow, you feel insulted even though the nurse hadn’t really done anything to you. Perhaps her lack of concern for your mental wellness and the fact that your newly acquired PTSD after today’s events only warranted “a good night’s sleep” as a form of treatment. Ah, the woes of having zero healthcare. Regardless, you decide to take her up on her advice and head home in hopes of acquiring some semblance of sleep after today’s traumatic episode.

Exiting the clinic, you find that almost no one is left on campus, save for the occasional student on their way to their evening classes. Being at your university during the evening had always been an odd sensation for you, as it reminds you of all the nighttime finals you have had to take in the past. Whenever the sun set and darkness enveloped the campus, it is always a given that you would be able to hear someone shouting obscenities from somewhere in the distance, especially since your university is well-known for the bars and clubs that litter its outskirts. Nonetheless, you hopelessly pray that you won’t pass by any drunk college kids, especially on this Friday night.

Just as you are about to cross the street to get to your bus stop, you notice a familiar face waiting by the entrance of the clinic. You backtrack, staring at the back of her head as she inconspicuously tries to peer into the curtained windows like some sort of pervert. Knowing her, your assumption probably isn’t that far off.

You approach her quietly, carrying your footsteps so that she doesn’t hear you until you place your mouth just beside her ear. Even at this proximity, she is none the wiser to your presence. You blow gently against her neck, whispering, “Sera. What the hell are you doing?”

As expected, she shrieks at you in surprise, almost landing a karate-chop on your face but you are saved by the fact that she had as much hand-eye coordination as a dead man in a coffin. You step back as you watch her slice through the air for another few seconds, her gaze wild before they finally land on your smirking face. Realizing that she had overreacted, she straightens up in a huff, glaring at you with as much annoyance as she can muster (but really, who can stay angry at your cute face for long?)

“Trying to look for that hot doctor again?” You joke, peering inquisitively at her hunched form. You wouldn’t be surprised to find a pair of binoculars behind her back at this point, given by how many times you’ve caught her “observing” potential boyfriends.

“How dare––!” She splutters, ears turning red from your accusation. When she shifts slightly, you notice a black object passing through her hands and trying to covertly slip into her bag. Ah. The binoculars.

“How dare I what? Accuse you of stalking a poor med student who is probably overdosing on Adderall as we speak? Oh, sorry for overstepping my boundaries,” you drawl, grinning at her affronted expression. “Unless, of course, you happened to hear about me fainting this afternoon and you wanted to offer me a ride home? Since you’re such a good friend, after all?

She looks at you, alarmed. “You fainted? When? How?”

“Oh, so now you’re concerned. I could’ve died with the image of Min Yoongi’s penis tattooed under the backs of my eyelids, and my best friend never would’ve known… Who, then, would avenge me and clear my name? Who, then, would take care of my growing collection of scantily clad women figurines––?”

“Did you just say you saw Min Yoongi’s penis? Holy shit!” Sera shrieks, eyes bugging out of their sockets. You are sure everyone within a 5 mile radius must’ve heard her, but you didn’t even have the energy to be mortified. Death always did sound like a great vacation idea, anyway.

“Sure, just scream it out for everyone to hear. Maybe we can get him to come back and do it again so you won’t think I’m crazy,” you mutter, grabbing Sera by the sleeve and tugging her towards the parking lot. “You brought your car, right? Bring me home.”

“Jeez, you drop this major bomb on me as if you were just talking about your cat taking a shit on your bed or something, and now you’re ordering me to bring you home? Cheeky,” Sera huffs, but she lets you drag her regardless.

Luckily, her car is parked relatively close because you honestly don’t know how much longer you can take before your knees give out from under you. It seems that despite the little nap you had at the nurse’s clinic, you hardly feel refreshed at all. All you want is to pass out on your comfortable bed for an indefinite period of time and pray for the demon under your bed to drag you to its depths and skin you alive. Knowing your luck, even the demon wouldn’t be that merciful towards a gremlin like yourself.

Sera begins backing up the car, stealing looks at you as you slowly became one with the car seat. You clench your eyelids shut, hoping that Sera would have the decency to respect your space for now and save the questioning for later. That pipe dream is immediately dashed, however, when she starts speeding down the empty streets and opens her big fucking mouth, her shrill voice reverberating in the small sedan.

“Don’t you dare sleep on me now, young miss! You have an entire weekend to hibernate so crank up that brain of yours for two more minutes and tell me what the fuck happened,” she says, nearly crashing over a trash bin in her haste to interrogate you.

“My brain? What’s that? Pretty sure that old thing disintegrated months ago. I think I shat it out when we had Taco Tuesday that one time in November,” you say, missing the way she snorts back in response. When Sera pinches your side to force you to face forward, your fatigue addled consciousness doesn’t even register the pain until a few seconds later.

“Ow,” you whine lamely.

“That literally took you five seconds to react,” Sera whistles, running over a child’s bike in the process. Neither of you look back to check the damage. “Damn, Min Yoongi’s penis must’ve been hella impressive if you’re this mindfucked. Are the rumors true? He must be packing down there, am I right?”

“Please stop saying the word penis. I’m getting triggered again,” you groan, slapping her lightly. She guffaws loudly, shoulders shaking at your misery.

“Sorry, can’t help being a horny bastard. But seriously, what’s the context? I wasn’t even aware you still talked to him after first year. He was your RA at your freshman dorm, right?”

“I don’t talk to him,” you say. You fidget in your seat, hands twisting and turning on your lap. “I mean. We were never close or anything.”

“Then care to explain how you managed to stand in the presence of Min Yoongi junior and behold his glory? Were you guys about to fuck before you realized his penis probably isn’t going to fit? Or, holy shit… Is he actually fun-sized like the rest of his body is?”

“Shut the fuck up, Sera.”

“Oh my god, he’s totally fun-sized!” She gasps, snatching up her phone while you two waited at a stoplight. “Wait ‘til Cassandra hears about this––”

Despite your diminished motor skills, you manage to grab her phone away from her before she can spread any misinformation to the rest of the student body. Min Yoongi’s penis is his business, and consequently, it seems to have become your business as well. Cue existential dread.

“Will you shut up for two seconds and let me explain? No, he is not fun-sized. I will not divulge any more information regarding that subject,” you say. Sera deflates noticeably beside you. “And no, we were not about to fuck. I just happened upon him while he was… in the midst of some recreational activities.”

“Oh, he’s into that type of shit. Understandable,” Sera nods, sagely. You have no idea what her tone might be implying, but honestly at that point you were too scared to ask. “How’d you find him like that, then? Did you hear him tugging his meat and decide to join in? Because honestly, big mood.”

“No!” you exclaim hotly, slapping her once again. “I’m not like your perverted ass! I was just––” You halt in the middle of your sentence, recollections of the past hours swimming through your mind and the fear and anxiety that had taken over you this afternoon starts to consume you once more.

“Hey, you alright? You got pale all of a sudden,” Sera notes, slowing down in her driving as she makes her way to park in front of your apartment. The two of you can see the lights of your crotchety landlord’s living room are still on, and you hope to God that he isn’t peering outside his windows and preparing to call the police on your friend (again).

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just,” you sigh, staring ahead of you and into the empty street. You don’t know why you’re hesitant to tell her what had happened earlier today. Normally, you would be exploding at the seams right now, weeping in despair at the sorry state of your existence. Then again, you’re not sure if you’re ready to go through the agony of reexperiencing the worst 12 hours of your life. Also, you just wanted to go pass out in your bed and never wake up.

In the end, you decide to tell her. Maybe she could offer a comforting shoulder to cry on. “Okay, so don’t laugh but… You remember the poem that got posted on the CCU Love Letters Facebook page this morning?”

Sera nods, confused. “Yeah? What about it?”

You take a deep breath, feeling your palms begin to sweat as hot licks of shame run down your back. You whisper, “Well. Yeah. I’m the author.”

There is a tangible silence inside the car. You’re afraid to look at Sera, dreading what sort of expression might appear on her face. Disdain? Pity? Mirth? Whatever it is, her quietness makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in alarm. You’re about to book it out of her car and make some shitty excuse about needing to feed your goldfish when you hear the locks of the cardoors click shut. You whip your head towards her, eyes widening when you saw the smug look on her face.

Not a good sign. At all.

“Do my ears deceive me? Is Miss ‘i’m-never-going-to-date-because-romance-is-dead’ Y/N really the author of the sweetest and most romantic poem of the century?” she singsongs, her smirk growing with each word that leaves her lips.

“Who ever said I was against romance?” You retort, cheeks flushing so hotly that you’re sure there is steam coming out of your ears. Sera cackles loudly, slamming her hand so hard into the car horn that it causes one of the wandering cats to jump up high into the air. You are half concerned when you don’t see the poor cat come back down.

“Oh please! When was the last time you dated anyone? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you date anyone the entire time we’ve known each other!”

“We met in freshman year. You didn’t know how I was in high school,” you pout, huffing crossly. “And besides. I write romantic poems sometimes. You’ve read my blog posts.”

“Yeah, I know but,” Sera giggles once more, switching her phone on to search for something. When she finds what she is looking for, her eyes light up as she shows you the damned poem that got you into this mess in the first place. “You literally wrote ‘how wonderful is it to find that the dips in your hands look awfully lonely without mine in them?’ and you’re telling me that you wrote that?”

You push the phone away, groaning into your hands when you happen to glance at the number of likes on the post. “Fucking 2000 likes? Really? I’m gonna commit seppuku with your 13-inch dildo, I swear.”

As you let yourself descend into madness once more, you feel Sera’s hand pat your back comfortingly, though you can still hear her stifled giggles. “Okay. To be honest, I kind of knew it was you. No one else can write sappy lovesick bullshit like that and be sincere about it. Who the fuck compares skin to moonlight anymore? Are we in the 16th century?”

“You just said you didn’t believe that I’d write it,” you say. “I need people to not think it’s me. It’s so embarrassing as it is!”

“Don’t worry, I don’t think people are gonna think it’s you. There are a bunch of people in our Creative Writing class. It could be anyone,” Sera says, pinching your cheek lightly.

“You really think so?”

“Yeah, probably.” Sera hums, her thumbs flying on the screen of her phone. She pauses, chuckling lightly at something. “Though, I must say. You’re incredibly lucky. If you had used your actual e-mail address instead of your… burner one, you would have been found out immediately.”

“Little victories,” you say, wondering if the prepubescent version of yourself would have known that creating [email protected] would eventually save your life 10 years later in the future. Probably not, but you’ll take it all the same. “Will you unlock the doors now, please? I’m gonna sleep the trauma away and hopefully not be alive by Monday, but if I am… then I guess I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

“Hold on sister,” she says, restraining you back into your seat with her arm. You cough in surprise, shooting a glare back her way as she keeps you away from your bed longer than you would already like. “If you’re the author of the poem… Then can you tell me who the muse of the poem is? And more importantly, is it someone I know?”

Judging by the salacious look on her face, you know it would be a bad idea telling her. Not that you wouldn’t trust Sera with your life, but––actually, you really would not trust her with anything. Now that you think about it, telling Sera would be the equivalent of giving Kim Seokjin full access to your internet search history, and you have enough brain cells in your inventory to know that some things are worse than death.

“Ugh, can we just drop the subject, please? I really don’t want to have an aneurysm inside your car right now. I can see Mr. Park staring at us through his living room window and we both know you can’t afford bail for the third time this year.”

“Oh shit, you’re right,” she sighs, relinquishing her hold on you and allowing you to unlock the door. “But that doesn’t mean I’m letting this go! You’re telling me everything when we see each other on Tuesday, understand?”

“I’d rather die, thanks!” You call out, slamming the door shut. “And besides, I’m gonna try to kill the rumors as quickly as possible before someone figures it out.”

“How are you gonna do that? Don’t tell me you’re going to go to each of the guys and explain? Maybe tell them it’s a misunderstanding?” Sera asks, watching you curiously. The very thought of doing that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention. You gaze downwards at the wet pavement, the feeling of impending doom rapidly becoming familiar.

"That would mean outing myself as the author, so that's definitely a hard pass."

"Suit yourself." Sera shrugs, already beginning to pull away from the driveway. She waves lazily at you, before driving away into the night. You stand outside for a moment longer, sighing deeply as you resign yourself to your new life filled with tomfoolery and bullshittery.

At the very least, there is no where to go but up, right?

[Life Lesson #1: It's important never to test fate with foolish declarations of optimism such as this. It only tempts whatever sadistic force that controls your pathetic human life to do their worst. So of course, it gets worse.]

To your credit, you don't spend your entire weekend wallowing in self-pity and despairing at your current situation. You only spend maybe 90% of it doing just that. The other 10% is used to plan your next plan of action.

Like an idiot, you fill yourself with too much misplaced confidence and Flamin' Hot Cheetos. You think to yourself, "Man! I have the whole weekend to think of something to do! Surely my brain will be able to make some sort of plan by the time Monday comes!"

It is a wonder that you are still somehow standing, in a state that some might say resembles being "alive," with how bad your forward thinking is. As it turns out, the weekend slips past you before you know it, with no more than a seedling of a plan than you did during the peak of your mental breakdown.

Suffice to say, you're in deep shit.

Monday comes just as surely as the sun rises from the east, which is to say that time continues to pass despite how much you'd be willing to pay for it to stop. You could live with one kidney, right? (Fate is probably more of a vegan, you surmise.)

Even when the world is ending all around you, it seems that your 8AM music composition class will wait for no one. And so, there you are: dragging your feet to what is usually one of your favorite classes, but with the added bonus of death clinging to your elbows. Perhaps your cosplay of a corpse is a bit too convincing, because most passersby are quick to step around you. Honestly, this is probably for the best, as you aren't sure what type of state your human compassion is at the moment, should someone dare disturb your "peace."

But of course, there is always that one idiot who manages to ruin your day––for the sole reason that he exists, much to your disappointment and chagrin. Hell, even his voice is enough to make your hairs bristle from just how he lilts his words ever so slightly. It is an absolute shame that the shortest route to your class is past his hair salon, so you can only imagine the speed at which your blood pressure rises when you hear him say––

“Miss Park, your split ends! Oh my word, Miss Park! Whatever shall we do but snip, snip, snip all those wretches out of your life, just like how I snip up all my haters! Aha, this is your cue to laugh by the way!” Kim Seokjin guffaws, his stupid voice unable to be muted by ten inches of concrete. Through the hair salon’s windowpane, you can see Seokjin’s hands make quick work of an elderly woman’s hair, his eyes in crescent moons with how loud he laughs. You mentally make a sign of the cross for the disaster that will soon befall that poor woman’s head.

Now, normally you would make haste to your class, with head bowed and shoulders hunched in hopes of that fool-mouthed ninny from seeing you and engaging in some of his usual buffoonery. For whatever brain cells he lacked, Seokjin always seems to have the ability to rope you into his many harebrained discussions, with topics ranging from “how often do you think people think of sleeping with me?” to “do you think if plants could dream, would they dream of sleeping with me?”

You know. The works.

As it is, today is not an ordinary day, and encountering Seokjin has only made you recall the distressing events from Friday. From your panic induced haze, you can only remember murky images of him holding court amongst a crowd of people, telling them how he must be the muse of your damned poem. The faint memory fills you with abject horror as you are reminded, not for the first time, how big his terribly well-sculpted mouth can be and how he will stop at nothing to make sure that everyone believes what he wants. (Despite how horrendous he is as an organism of this earth, you would be a fool to call his looks anything but mediocre. But that’s as far as anything worth praising concerns the likes of him.)

Something takes over you in that moment, something animalistic. As if your dumb monkey brain is going “hoo hoo eek eek… must… eliminate… AWOOGA… BIG THREAT…” and your sensible and empathetic sides are consequently forced to lie dormant in the meantime.

Hence how you find yourself bursting through Spick and Spock Hair Salon, with no plan whatsoever. All you can think of is Seokjin hanging from his balls on the school’s flagpole, and honestly you weren’t all that concerned with how Point A was going to reach Point B(alls). But we’ll deal with that later.

“What was that?” Miss Park hums, her hearing aid somewhat short-circuited with the sensory abuse it has already had to undergo. To Seokjin’s credit, his hands do not falter despite your loud entrance; however, that could mostly be explained by how much louder his own voice is in comparison, but that’s just your humble onion.

“––and basically, Miss Park, there is this poor soul out there who must be dying with embarrassment because their love poem has been exposed to the world without their consent! Now, I may be Aphrodite incarnate, but I am also a gentleman, and so I do not condone force of any kind,” Seokjin drawls, incognizant of the world around him. He continues to apply the perm solution on Miss Park’s curls, the precision at how he works almost impressive if not for the fact that he was entirely abhorrent.

“That’s nice, Jinnie, but will you please shut up? I’m two steps away from turning off my hearing aid, you know,” Miss Park says cheerily.

“STOP WHERE YOU ARE, KIM SEOKJIN! STOP FEEDING LIES TO THE ELDERLY!” You cry, filled with the same type of distress that a young peasant might feel from their first licks of capitalism. Seokjin, the wicked businessman in this terrible analogy, is the one selling his counterfeit goods to the unsuspecting innocent.

Miss Park gasps, turning to Seokjin with betrayal in her eyes. “Oh, I knew it! My perm does make me look older! Just give me the pink highlights like I told you, Jinnie. I saw the youngsters doing it on Facebook,” she says.

Seokjin turns his head towards you in slow-motion, like an ass, and even takes the care to flick his beautifully styled bangs away from his forehead so he can gaze upon you with faux interest. “Oh? Miss Y/N? In my salon? I knew you’d be back here soon enough, especially with those roots… Come, take a seat. Let me bump your sorry 2/10 looking ass to a 2.5/10 at least.”

“If it were not for the laws of this land,” you seethe, cursing him through gritted teeth. You stalk towards him, rolling up your sleeves to show that you mean Business. (Funnily enough, you were wearing a tank top that day.) “I can’t believe you’re even being considered a suspect of the poem’s muse in the first place!”

Seokjin fakes a contemplative look. “Isn’t it because of my moon-like radiance? People have told me that I glow like a newborn babe.”

“You sure have the brains of one,” you retort.

“I heard from my niece that it was because he was an extra in a play as a moon or something,” Miss Park quips helpfully. Seokjin makes an affronted noise, but does not reject her claim.

“You were, like, a prop?” You snicker, forgetting for a moment what you were doing. You watch with wicked fascination as his ears turn red.

“Everyone has to start from somewhere! And so what? I had to hang ten feet in the air with a wedgie the entire time! My battle scars are what make me stronger.” He sniffs, upturned nose and all. You and Miss Park snort, not at all inconspicuously.

He pours the remainder of the solution all over Miss Park’s head and slaps her not-too gently on the back, clasping his hands together gleefully. “Well! That should do the trick. Relax, Miss Park, and let the chemicals do all the talking or whatever.” You take mental note to never come back to his establishment ever again so long as you live.

“Ma’am, if you’d like to save yourself from listening to the avalanche of anger that I’m about to unleash, I would suggest turning off your hearing aid for a moment,” you say.

She shrugs her shoulders, reclining further into her seat and resting her legs on a nearby bench. “Sure. YOLO, as the kids say.”

At her consent, you promptly slap the hearing aid out of her ear so you can scream at Seokjin in relative privacy. Miss Park doesn’t even seem to notice, and this should’ve been an indicator of how fucked up Seokjin’s salon is if she didn’t even seem slightly shocked by your actions. (How could she, when Seokjin literally just dumped fucking chemicals all over her scalp? Isn’t that illegal?)

“I’m going to sensibly reason with you first,” you scream and jab at his chest, being unreasonable.

“Okay, sounds believable,” Seokjin replies, raising a brow. He gestures for you to follow him to where the cashier is supposed to be, except that it is so early in the morning that the other employee that works with him isn’t even in at the moment. You still have yet to know why Seokjin opens the shop at 8AM in the first place.

“Why the hell are you spreading misinformation to random people like that? You know damn well that the poem isn’t about you,” you huff, crossing your arms. Seokjin, the ever-loving twat that he is, matches your pose to mock you. He even juts out his hip the way that you do.

“Of course it’s about me! How could it not be about me? Did you not read the part about how the author looks at the moon and thinks about my skin? Everyone knows that Etude House is dying to have me as their face mask model!”

The prickling urge to strangle him strengthens. “Listen,” you say, teeth gnashing from the effort of keeping yourself from leaping and ending it all. “For once in your life, is it really that hard to believe that the world doesn’t revolve around you?”

“Oh, you’re one of those heliocentric believers? Jincentric is where it’s at, Miss Y/N!” He laughs, slapping his knee at the pure hilarity of his joke. He does not pause once at your disdainful visage.

“Fine! Believe what you want! But I need you to stop telling everyone that you’re the muse of that poem. The rumor won’t die if you keep stoking the flame with your inflamed ego.”

Seokjin ponders your words for a second, looking at you with a contemplative stare. He does not speak for so long that you’re almost willing to let yourself hope that he has acquiesced, until––”When have you ever done anything for me?”

You gape at his sudden accusation. “Excuse me? I’ve done a lot for you!”

“Like?”

You pause, racking your brain. “Uh. I haven’t killed you?”

“Fair,” he nods, stroking his chin. “But that won’t be enough to stop me. I love being admired, so fuck you for even assuming that I would stop talking about myself. However, I’ll do it for a price.”

“Price?” You groan, fixing him with a glare. “You know damn well that I’m poor, but name it and I’ll try to pay it as soon as you can.”

Seokjin grins, his pearly whites much too incandescent with how dark his soul is. “Invest in my JiHope t-shirt business. I need, like, $500 left to reach the first goal of my kickstarter.”

You stare at him, completely baffled. Is this dude for real, or is he just a caricature turned to life? “You’re a heathen, do you know that?” you say, disgust oozing from every orifice of your body.

“I am feeling quite heathen-ish today, thanks for noticing,” he replies, somber. “Does that mean you accept my proposal?”

You hate how his voice sounds even the slightest bit optimistic, because that means he really does think you’re as stupid as he is. “Can you be serious for once? And before you say it, don’t fucking pull a dad joke on me and say some shit like ‘how can I be serious if I’m Jin?’ because I will not hesitate to bite two inches off your dick.”

“That would still leave 13-inches, so to be honest I should be thanking you.” He shrugs his shoulders, unashamed of existing in this day and age. “And no, I can’t be serious. It goes against my brand.”

“Your brand of being a fucking menace to society?” you grouse.

“Exactly.”

You are seriously ready to explode, and it isn’t going to be pretty. Lord knows that Seokjin would hate having your guts splattered on his overpriced Gucci slides. “Please, can you just stop talking about the poem? It’s bad enough that the original post is getting hundreds of likes by the hour, and if I know one thing, it’s probably mostly from your own influence.”

With a hundred thousand followers under his belt, it probably isn’t that much of a stretch. As much as he is the spawn of Satan, he is rather popular among your peers. Not that popularity has ever been a good measure of compassion. Case in point:

Seokjin grins, misleadingly angelic. “Aw, are you calling me an influencer? That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“You’re insufferable!” you yell, glowering at the overly-smug theatre student. You stomp your foot on the ground, pointing a finger in his direction as your nostrils flare in annoyance. Like hell that you’re going to let this shithead make you his bitch! “If you’re not going to do as I say, then I’m going to pester you throughout your entire shift and follow you to class if I have to!”

Big words from such a weak-willed person such as yourself. It does not take you long to realize how fatal of a mistake it is to make such a promise, because you never really stopped to think about the actual logistics of such a stunt (i.e. having to be around Seokjin for longer than your recommended daily dose). You can only imagine what such an experience would entail.

After a 3-hours of watching a buffoon salvaging humanity’s hair-do’s and don’ts (his words not yours), you feel as if his very demonic energy was sucking your life force with a curly straw. You fear that when you close your eyes tonight, you will be haunted by images of his Pacific-wide shoulders and his head tilted back in maniacal laughter as he snips away with less care than a toddler. Well, at least that’s what he appears to be doing, because occasionally you will zone out but then return to the sight of a fairly satisfied customer with glossy looking locks, so perhaps he isn’t as inept as you had imagined.

Your amazement is short-lived, however, when he opens his mouth and the cycle begins anew.

After finishing his last client for the morning, he makes his way to his first class of the day. You are reminded of the fact that you are missing your own morning classes as a result, but you know that you cannot afford to let him off your sight, lest he make a bigger fool of himself (and consequently, make your life a bigger hell than it already is).

You trudge behind him, ensuring that he never strays further than three feet away from you. It’s pretty easy to keep up with him, due to the fact that he always makes a point to pause whenever he sees his own reflection (in windows, shiny surfaces, some poor boy’s bicycle helmet––his narcissism knows no bounds.)

When he finally makes a full stop outside one of the lecture halls, he intentionally sidesteps in front of you. The suddenness of it causes you to bump against his steely back, bruising your nose enough to make you yelp in pain. You’re just about to cuss him out when he turns to face you, uncharacteristically serious.

“Now Y/N, I need you to stay out here in the corridor like a good girl, okay? There’s a strict rule of having no pets allowed,” he coos, making the fatal mistake of trying to stroke your head. He shrieks when your teeth meets his palm, but you are unrepentant.

When you let go, he tries to appear unfazed, blowing you a kiss instead as he saunters off into the lecture hall. Not wanting to disturb the class anyway, you decide to heed his words and squat outside in the hallway, occasionally looking through the small window to glare menacingly at the pink-haired bastard. Despite the holes you wish you were burning into the back of his skull, he remains aloof to your imaginary death ray as he continues to take studious notes of whatever his professor is saying.

On the other hand, his classmates are a different story. They send each other wary looks, wondering why the hell this random person was doing a Jack Torrance impression. When the clock strikes, they all make a beeline for the exit, clearly avoiding looking you in the eye as they speedwalk to their next classes. Seokjin makes it out last, his gait the picture of perfect nonchalance. He has the audacity to look surprised to see you there, like you were an old friend he had not expected to meet until you both reached the pearly gates (or fiery pits, but that’s unimportant right now).

“You’re still here, Miss Golum? Have you been good? I’m honestly surprised that you are as stubborn as I am.” He whistles lowly, shouldering his backpack with a smirk. He walks down the hall towards the exit, not checking to see if you were keeping up or not.

You proceed to bite his penis in half to keep him in place. Okay, not really, but you know… one can dream.

What you actually do is follow him as he heads to the cafeteria, presumably to sustain the mortal body he has chosen to possess. It takes him an agonizing thirty minutes to decide what he wants to eat for lunch, and another thirty minutes to say his extensive list of food products that he will most likely be consuming within the next hour or so. You’ve never seen a fast food worker look so dead before, and you’re sure the poor college student behind the counter had zoned out after Seokjin ordered his tenth happy meal.

As the two of you stand to the side to wait for his order, he turns to you expectantly. “So,” he begins.

“Fa,” you retort, followed by a gasp of shock from the elder.

“Do my ears deceive me? Your first dad joke… And to think, all it took was for you to hang out with me for four hours to initiate you as an apprentice.” He weeps loudly, faking tears in an impressively short amount of time. That doesn’t stop you from kicking him in the shin, though.

“Don’t worry, I’m already dead inside. There’s no soul left for you to consume,” you reply dryly. He tuts, shaking his head.

“Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was just about to ask… As much as I have enjoyed our quality bonding time together––”

“I’ll gladly piss on your grave, don’t forget,” you interject.

“––I was wondering why you’re so adamant to dispel the rumors about the poem? You don’t seem like the type to engage in campus gossip.”

Oh shit. Perhaps there is something more than hot air in that tiny head of his.

You flounder about like a fish for a bit, your mouth opening and closing as you think of an explanation that wouldn’t out yourself in the process. You feel your cheeks reddening, only two seconds away from steam whistling out of your eardrums. Broken stammers are all you can manage as he waits expectantly, but luckily, you don’t have to think of a response when a nearby commotion forces the two of you to back away from each other.

A gaggle of freshmen storm through from out of nowhere, forcing the both of you to be swept away as they all made their way towards a pop-up stand in the middle of the court. Accustomed to the borderline cringey overexcitement of the youngest students in the university, you are quick to dismiss their behavior and decide to search for Seokjin, until you hear one of the little freshmen say something that catches your attention.

"You think the t-shirts are still available? Chaeyeon said the hoodies sold out this morning, so I'm scared that we'll be too late," a young girl says, her hands clutched to her chest as she tries to tiptoe over the crowd to survey the state of the merchants just up ahead.

Her friend pats her back assuringly. "Don't worry. The announcement on the page said they're bringing in the reserve stocks from the backroom, which is probably why everyone's here. We just have to get there first." They proceed to elbow their way through the throng of people, and completely disappear from your view. Where they stood, more people soon took their place until a sizeable swarm has taken over half the area of the floor.

Now, this exchange isn't necessarily a red flag to most people, since many clubs and organizations at your university often sold different types of goods to raise funds for their projects. However, given the circumstances that you have become entrenched in the last few days, you can never be too cautious of innocent utterances such as this.

You take a few steps back, trying your best to see over the heads of the crowd that is steadily growing larger. After a few minutes of fruitless attempts to squeeze through sweaty pits and cacophonous teenagers, you are ready to just give up and let it go when the same pair of girls from earlier exit from the side, with numerous folded up shirts in their arms.

You hasten towards them, barely being able to latch onto their shoulders to stop them from escaping. The shorter of the girls squeals in surprise, dropping her prized possessions onto the floor. She turns to you, anger ready to burst forth from her tongue when she looks you in the face. She softens almost immediately, wrath evaporating in the wind. Confused, you're just about to ask her if she knows you from somewhere when her friend cuts you to the chase.

"Oh my God! It's her!" she squeals, reaching for your hand and shaking it so vigorously that you swear you hear your shoulder bones pop out of its socket. The girl who had dropped her shirts just continues to stare at you in awe, her mouth agape as she remains speechless, apparently from your presence alone.

You feel the dread begin to build in the pits of your stomach. "It's me?" you say, pointing to yourself with your free hand.

"Yes! Miss Y/N, you have no idea how happy I am to meet you! We are big fans of your work on the CCU Pen Blog! Your short story about the talking brick wall honestly brought me to tears," she gasps out, eyes twinkling with unrestrained reverence. Judging from the death grip she has on your hand, you can certainly say that this girl isn't lying.

While you are aware of the small following that you've accumulated over the past two years as one of the top contributors in your university's open writing forum, that isn't to say that you have ever met a fan as fervent as the two before you. Still on edge from everything that has been going on, you still can't let your guard down around them.

After a bit of effort on your part, you are finally able to pry yourself away from the girl's tight hold. Coughing lightly into your abused fist, you fix them with a wary glance. They return it with unnervingly excited stares of their own.

"Um. Thank you very much, ladies. I just wanted to ask you about the function going on over there?" you ask, pointing over at the still bustling shop booth. At your query, the girls actually look confused, as if you are the weird one in this interaction.

"You don't know? I thought you of all people should know about the merch sale happening right now," the quieter girl speaks up, bewildered. She bends down to pick up the shirts she had dropped, turning it over to show you the design that you had previously failed to notice. What a terrible mistake you have committed.

(Was the mistake looking at the t-shirt? Was it waking up today? Was it deciding to live after your mother conceived you in the womb? Truly, where does the blame game truly end in this foul existence that you call your own?)

The scream that is elicited from your throat cannot be described as anything from this world, because you are sure everyone in the vicinity might have stopped breathing for a few seconds after hearing it. The macabre quality of your voice even caused the two girls in front of you to flee in fright, leaving you with the wretched t-shirt in your trembling palms.

There, printed on the t-shirt, right in front of your mortal eyes, is an image you would rather that you had not seen even if it meant having to suckle from Kim Seokjin's teets for all eternity.

In all its poorly printed glory, your face is plain as day. Anyone would be able to recognize that it was you: in the middle of chewing what appears to be a whole turkey leg.

There you were, with ketchup dripping down your cheek, sitting just outside the Fine Arts building as you scarfed down the poor piece of poultry because you had been too lazy to cut up into smaller, more refined chunks. Like the fucking caveman that you are, you had held the leg like a police baton, mouth open so wide that you'd think you might have unhinged your jaw to get the entire thing to fit in there.

You think that's all? It gets worse.

Somehow, the perpetrator of this terrible t-shirt just has to make you look even less attractive than humanly possible. Superimposed beside your sauce-stained self is none other than a PNG image of Jeon Jungkook in his prime. With his sleek black hair pushed back to reveal his forehead, you are sure that this photo is the same one that everyone on campus had swooned over just a few weeks prior, when he had been chosen to model in an advertisement for some club's fundraising event. He is the picture of quiet confidence, which might make you laugh on any other day, since the boy is anything but that in his day to day life. You only ever interact with him when you see him manning the front desk of the library, and he always has his head bowed over a book, unaware of the stares of his many admirers.

Clearly, the injustice of having a literal god beside your hulk-ish photo is downright cruel, but this optical torment does not stop there.

Underneath the photos of the two of you, there is a short line of text that is honestly the worst part of the entire thing. In bold, sans serif font, it reads “Y/NKOOK SUPPORTERS INITIATIVE” with a copious amount of black heart emojis tacked on. In a smaller, but similarly visible manner, it also reads “The Moon Poem is about them and I will stand on this rock until I die!” There are also numerous 100 and fire emojis scattered around the entire shirt.

It’s terrible. It’s downright despicable. It’s the worst thing to ever grace your vision, and that’s saying something, considering that you’ve met your fair share of delusional graphic designers.

Another scream rips from your throat––more livid, this time.

It is at that moment when you realize that maybe Thanos was right––maybe some people really do deserve to die for the betterment of civilization.

Perhaps the crowd of eagerly waiting customers can sense the heat from your unfathomable anger, because they quickly part like the Red Sea as you stomp over to the front of the lines where you will likely find the perpetrator of this heinous crime.

There is a young boy with droopy eyes standing by the tables of merchandise, his hands quickly counting wads of bills as he jams them haphazardly into his pink Hello Kitty fanny pack. He doesn't even bother looking up when you approach him, still busy with his profits, when you clear your throat to catch his attention.

"Are you the one in charge of this fucking circus?" You snarl, fists itching to come into contact with his cheeks. He hums disinterestedly, zipping up his gaudy fanny pack with a tired sigh.

"No, ma'am. I'm just the hired help," he drawls, turning away from you as he gestures vaguely at the mountains of goods still left for purchase. "Are you interested in something or what? There are still 30 people waiting to buy, so I'd rather you not back up the line please."

At the end of your patience, you admit that perhaps grabbing the poor boy by the collar might have been a bit drastic. Still, you're itching to know who the source of all this madness is, so you don't feel all that guilty when he makes a choking sound from your act of brute force. Despite your strong grip on his windpipe, his dead fish-eyes do not disappear. In fact, he looks exasperated more than anything.

"Listen lady, are you going to buy something or what? Who even the fuck are you?"

You splutter, staring incredulously at the younger. Who the fuck are you? You aren't the type to expect people to know who you are but you can at least expect that the person selling goods with your face on it would know who you are! Like, how the hell does he not know that you were the same person on the damned picket fans and keychains?

"I don't––what the hell––" you stammer, speechless for the first time in a while.

"OWO what's this? Is this a new campus couple shipping booth that just opened? Do you guys sell JiHope versions too?" Just in time to witness your second mental breakdown of the day, Seokjin makes his convenient re-entrance as he sidles up beside you. He has two burgers in hand, one of which he is halfway done eating.

You gape at him. "Did you buy a burger for me?"

Seokjin snorts, stuffing the entire remainder of the sandwich into his unfathomably large mouth. "No, you idiot. They’re both for me," he replies, with surprising coherency despite the dribbles of meat and bread product spilling onto his chin. You swear you can see him unhinge his jaw just the slightest bit.

He bends down to pick up one of the fallen pins from the floor, groaning at the sound of his back cracking. "Oh shit, that hurt!"

Unable to help yourself despite still having a freshman in a chokehold, you quip automatically "Yikes, that sounds like a couple of dinosaur bones creaking. You alright?"

Not missing a beat, Seokjin replies "Nah. I just can’t help having a bad back with how big my dick is."

The young boy taps you on the shoulder, reminding you once more of the situation you are in. "Can you let go? My shift is over so you can interrogate the next dude instead," he drawls, having the audacity to yawn at you.

Taking pity on him, you do as he asks. He straightens up, pulling his rumpled collar down before unclasping the fanny pack from around his waist. Another similarly dead-eyed young boy (who was incredibly tall, much to your chagrin––obnoxiously tall young men ALWAYS had agendas, take Seokjin for example) takes the bag from him. He gives you a short once over, no signs of recognition present in his expression at all. When he sees Seokjin, however, his reaction is a lot more than you expected.

"Oh my God, Seokjin? Holy shit, I'm a big fan!" The new boy gasps, pushing aside a customer in favor of reaching over to shake Seokjin's hand. Ever the slut for praise and appreciation, Seokjin shakes his hands with the ease of a seasoned politician.

"Aren't we all?" he laughs, haughty. The other boy laughs too, his eyes sparkling with unrestrained admiration. You sneer in disgust at the hearts visibly emanating from his body.

"My name is Soobin, and I just love your performance in last week's production at the Campus Theatre! Would you mind signing my assh––"

"Hold on," you interrupt, glaring daggers at Seokjin. "Did you fucking do this? Did you make this fucking merch booth of me and Jungkook?"

Seokjin frowns, annoyed that you had been impetuous enough to stop this spontaneous meet and greet session between him and his loyal fan. "No, of course not. Who even the fuck is Dungcock, or whatever the hell that dude's name is."

"You fucking dumb piece of shit––" you say, about to bite off his balls for real when your phone begins to ring, saving Seokjin for the time being. You recognize the ringtone to be the one you set for your alarms, and you realize that after all the commotion from this morning, you have forgotten about the tutoring session you are supposed to have with Hoseok today. Since you had cancelled last Friday's session after your spectacular psychotic meltdown, you know that you couldn't possibly skip this one as well.

Shutting your phone off, you groan, fixing Seokjin with your most solemn gaze. "Listen, I don't have a lot of time. I have to go tutor Hoseok soon, and I've already skipped all my classes today by trying to convince your imbecilic ass to be empathetic for once in your miserable life so I'm begging you for the last time––please stop spreading the rumors about the poem," you finish, tears welling up as you finally register the fatigue weighing down your bones. It's only Monday, and you can't wait for the sweet release of death.

Seokjin is silent the entire while. The merchandise boy, Soobin, has already left the two of you alone, becoming disinterested the moment you uttered the word "listen." You're breathing heavily, bracing yourself for the inevitable sound of his windshield wiper-esque laughter. To your complete and utter surprise, his mocking does not come.

Instead, he puts down his second burger, stuffing it inside his back pocket (presumably for safekeeping). He wipes his hands on his shirt, smearing ketchup sauce on it before levelling you with his gaze. He appears like he is about to acquiesce to your demands.

Is this it? Will you allow yourself to hope? Has Kim Seokjin actually developed compassion during the last 20 seconds of your heartfelt plea? Are you finally going to lay to rest the rumor that he does not actually have a second stomach where his heart should be?

Then, "Okay Y/N. I'll do it."

Hope rises just beyond the horizon.

He raises a finger, "But––"

And just like that, hope takes a pounding to the ass (lubelessly) and dies before it even has the chance to break past the peaks of your mountain of crushed dreams.

"––you have to admit that you're the author of the poem and then I'll stop exacerbating the rumors."

You can feel the demon living inside you just itching to climb its way out of your ass and circle its hands around Seokjin's larynx. Hell, you can't say you wouldn't do it yourself. "WHAT? NO!! THAT'S LITERALLY––I'M NOT EVEN––" you scream, shocked and enraged at the same time.

Seokjin rolls his eyes, placing his perfectly manicured hand on his hip. "Save it, babe. I know you're the author. As annoying and stupid as you are––"

"Hey!"

"––you've always been a pretty good writer and I would recognize your writing style anywhere. Not to say that I read your works religiously or anything, but I mean... I see your writing on the newspapers that I use to pick up my dog's shits, so I guess I read them sometimes," he says, not looking you in the eyes. The tips of his ears are turning red, but you hardly notice his embarrassment when you're more amazed that he even acknowledged your talent in the first place. You guys aren't even friends!

"Wow. I don't even know what to say."

"Just admit you're the author and we're good." Seokjin smirks, patting you lightly on the shoulder.

You frown. "Isn't that counterproductive? I want the rumors to stop, not for them to be related to me."

"Which is a sentiment that I cannot fathom at all, since I crave the attention." He sniffs, glowering at you. "You can imagine the sacrifice I am bestowing upon you by having to relinquish this newfound fame just so your little crush stays hidden."

"How benevolent of you," you deadpan.

"And since you didn't deny it, I'm assuming that you are the author after all. Besides, I just wanted you to tell me the truth, mostly so I can bully you for writing sickly sweet love poems about yours truly."

"Okay, I'll admit. I am the author. You got me," you grunt, rubbing your temples. "But there is no way in HELL that I wrote Moonlight Sonata for you. I'd rather eat my own intestines than write anything remotely flattering about you."

"That's what they all say," Seokjin says, sighing dreamily. "To be honest, I knew you were the author from the beginning and I just wanted to annoy you until you caved. I didn't think you would be that stressed over the stupid poem enough to follow me around for an entire day. That crush must be embarrassing, huh?"

"It's not!" you exclaim hotly. You clear your throat, forcing the blush around your cheeks to die down. "It's just... It was supposed to be private." Your voice breaks off into a whisper, vulnerability lacing your words.

It's true––the only reason you wanted all of this to be over was because it was never even supposed to have happened in the first place. Your words and stories were always open to the public eye. You gave and you gave and you gave, although that has never been a problem. You loved sharing your thoughts and feelings; it was one of the greatest things about being writer. You enjoyed hearing how people related to your experiences because it made you feel seen, it made you feel known. You were not alone in this journey, and that had made all the difference.

This time, however, you had preferred to go through this alone. Mostly because even you were not sure what it was that you were going through. How were you supposed to share this part of yourself with others when you did not even know what it was that you were feeling? You had poured every inch of your soul onto those pages, and to have yourself completely barren to the world like it was nothing––

That had been catastrophic to you. But at the end of the day, there was nothing you can do except to try and silence it.

Seokjin considers your sad form, watching you until a small secretive smile inches its way on his lips. You scowl, not liking the way he looks like he knows something that you don't.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Oh, nothing," Seokjin whistles, winking provokingly. He laughs obnoxiously, not faltering even when you kick him in the sin. "Just that I know you have a crush on me and you're just embarrassed to admit it. Thank God that I'm a great actor, so I guess I'll pretend for your sake."

"You're not my––" you start, before giving up mid-sentence. Was there truly any use to arguing with Seokjin? You'd rather not waste any more saliva than you already have. "Whatever. Believe what you want. All that matters is that you do what I asked you to do."

"Sure thing, Shakespeare," Seokjin scoffs, flicking you lightly on the forehead. "Also, in payment for my services, you are required to watch my next play AND attend at least three of my rehearsals and cheer for me every time I appear in a scene. I require a bouquet of flowers at every appearance."

You're about to argue, (fruitlessly, you might add), when a barrage of buzzes coming from your back pocket stops you in your tracks. You slip out your phone, and you see dozens of texts from a worried Hoseok asking where you are. You reply a quick "otw" to him before focusing back on Seokjin.

"Fine. Whatever. I'll fucking kill you the next time I see you, but... thank you. I know it's hard for you to be kind to anything other than your reflection." You take a deep breath, furrowing your brows. Saying thank you to a troglodyte is harder than it seems. "And thanks for reading my works. We're still not friends or anything, by the way. Hope you remember that."

"Wouldn't dream of forgetting," Seokjin chuckles. "Me? Friends with you? A 10 walking around with a negative 1? Fat chance." He waves goodbye, blowing you an obnoxiously loud kiss before stalking off away from you. The bulge of his smooshed burger has left an unsightly grease stain all over the back of his jeans.

Before you turn to go to the exit, you pass by Soobin who was still busy with customers. You slip a few bills into his pocket, tiptoeing to whisper into his ear. "Here's twenty bucks. Go kick Seokjin in the balls for me."

When the double doors slam behind you, the beautiful sound of Seokjin's pained howl bids you the cheery farewell that you deserve.

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