#this is between 13 and the upcoming up 14

[ophernelia]

WHEN THE CAT'S AWAY.. S3, E13.5

𓆩𓆪 recent episode | full series

[sevgilimsatoru]

Error 410: (Self aware!AU, Caleb Edition) Part 1

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 A/N Spin off Summary: A self aware!AU with Caleb and NonMC! reader. Tags: Caleb x reader, Caleb x NonMC! reader, Caleb x fem!reader, Stressedout!reader. Inspired by: @ittybittyfanblog Word count: 1k *"when you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you"* *- Friedrich Nietzsche.*

You've heard that quote.., maybe even read it somewhere before but it didn't matter, not when your eyes were starting to ache, a slight burning sensation pulsing behind your eyelids. The only thing staring back at you were the questions in your assignment. The heels of your palm digging into your eyes, rubbing them, trying to drown out the sensation. You had work to do, upcoming tests countless assignments, projects- the dates and deadlines were already starting to blur. Maybe you should sleep. Take a little break, it wouldn't hurt to rest... The sickening feeling of guilt and shame in your gut was going to stay there- despite the efforts to try and study a little more.

It was your fault, really. You didn't do the things you should've on time, procrastinating and postponing work when you shouldn't have. Unfortunately, time never waits for anyone. A click of the power button broke the silence surrounding your room, closing your laptop. You stood up from your desk, stretching your arms over your head, the sound of bones cracking filling your ears. Slumping down on the bed felt much better- the cold sheets against your heated skin felt good, relaxing even. Your tongue darting out to lick your lips, feeling the chapped skin and the stinging sensation sparking up when the fleshy organ touched a small cut on your lip, caused by the frequent biting and pulling of the skin on your lips. A sigh left your lips, swallowing the dryness in the back of your throat. You felt thirsty, your throat felt dry.. empty but not enough to burn and that was reason enough for your mind to stop you from getting up, along with the effort it was going to take to just get yourself a glass of water. Laying against the cold sheets, your mind wandered thinking about something that might get you to sleep. Sleep was slowly becoming a foreign concept- something that happened few and far in between. Your college studies wasn't making it any better- Doing a degree in law along with criminology honors. You really were crazy to have chosen these subjects but your curiosity often went against your decisions. The need to understand and learn more about the few things that you were interested in. There was only silence surrounding you, until a small **ping!** vibrated through the room and in your ears, looking down at your phone to see a message from the game you spent so much of your time on; Love and Deep space and of course, your precious love interest, Caleb. It was almost insane how your eyes lit up when the loading screen of the game showed up. That pretty boy sitting quietly on the leather chair, asleep. A small poke on his cheek was enough for him to let out the usual autogenerated response you always heard. He was so cute, so pretty, so.. human. It was one of the reasons you liked him so much. Over every other love interest, he just felt like a person. A person you could understand- a person you could relate to. You understood why he did the things he did.

Tapping on the small chat button, Caleb was standing there- looking at you. Interacting with him was comforting in a sense. His little teasing yet sincere comments were enough to make your heart stutter. It had became routine by now, doing the daily tasks- getting gems, playing on the claw machine and the kitty cards. Yeah, maybe the kitty cards would be a good idea today. You still had one kitty card attempt left this week. Playing kitty cards with Caleb was fun to say the atleast. It was annoying how good he was at that game. You could never get three wins in a row, sometimes it made you want to punch him through the screen, affectionately of course. Just when you thought you were going to win, all it took was two cards for the whole game to be flipped in his favor. It was so frustrating. "If you keep winning, I'm not going to play with you.." You muttered to yourself, maybe you should stop talking to yourself when no one was going to reply back. "Maybe you should stop and take care of yourself if you can't even focus on the game," Caleb replied in that small text box. That was new, you hadn't seen a reply like that before.. Now that you think about it, did your MC even say anything for Caleb to reply back? Maybe you had missed it, too focused on the game, too focused on him. After miserably loosing the kitty card mini game, you decided to just chat with him by clicking on tête-à-tête. Talking about studies.. wanting to hear his comforting words but with those limited options, how could you tell about how terrible study habits, your conflicting feelings?

You felt stupid, incompetent, like a failure for not being able to complete some simple assignments but how do you tell all that to a fictional love interest in a game? It was shameful in a way, relying so much on the opinions and comforting of something that wasn't even real? It was just so weird.. how he mattered so much to you. Your thumb caressed the screen of your phone where his cheek was, as if he could feel your touch. It made a burning sensation flare up in the back your throat as the brightness of your screen burned into your retinas. Exhaustion of the day catching upto you. Your body curling up on the sheets of your bed. Yeah, maybe sleep would be better. Maybe you'd dream of him.

A/N- Hi everyone, I'm a new writer so this work might feel like really dry and dull. This is just part 1. I'm going to write more. This fic is inspired by Error 404 fanfic of @ittybittyfanblog. I hope you like it.

[heartschampion]

we fell in love in october — masterlist

PAIRING. ethan landry x fem!reader

SUMMARY. in which you make a bet with your boyfriend, ethan, the night before the start of october. thirty-one days of sex.

CONTENT. no ghostface!au, smut, this is for kinktober so every chapter has its own thing going on i GUESS?, established relationship, slightly experienced!ethan, inexperienced!reader, they basically learn their kinks and stuff throughout the story, fluff (surprise), no beta, not proofread.

STATUS. upcoming.

AN. chapters aren't set in stone so they could change. i'm like half dead while typing this so if there's a mistake pls tell me.

PLAYLIST.

⸻ INDEX.

00. SEPTEMBER 30TH

an innocent night leads to a month of filth.

01. OCTOBER 1ST

morning sex with ethan is always the best way to start off your day.

02. OCTOBER 2ND

you and ethan decide to take a big step in your relationship and have unprotected sex for the first time.

03. OCTOBER 3RD

after a long day of classes, a warm shower is all you need. and your boyfriend in there for some fun.

04. OCTOBER 4TH

shopping with tara leads to buying a little gift as a surprise for both of your boyfriends.

05. OCTOBER 5TH

ethan is out with chad for a 'boys night,' but you can't help but be desperate for his attention even miles away.

06. OCTOBER 6TH

ethan pushes you to your limits.

07. OCTOBER 7TH

an unexpected turn of events leads to discovering something new about your boyfriend.

08. OCTOBER 8TH

sex couldn't get any better with a little extra help.

09. OCTOBER 9TH

everyone needs a helping hand, or mouth.

10. OCTOBER 10TH

you and ethan recreate a scene from a book, taking on the roles of the characters.

11. OCTOBER 11TH

a college frat party isn't a likely place you'd find yourself having sex. especially not with the constant pounding on the door. ethan doesn't seem to care.

12. OCTOBER 12TH

hearing tara rave about aphrodisiacs, you decide to give them a try.

13. OCTOBER 13TH

you let ethan come in you for the first time.

14. OCTOBER 14TH

ethan becomes obsessed with the idea of breeding you, and you're no better.

15. OCTOBER 15TH

sometimes you just need a mouth to murmur sweet nothings into you to really lay back and relax.

16. OCTOBER 16TH

you find yourself a little tied up.

17. OCTOBER 17TH

ethan can't help but wrap his hands around your pretty little neck as he fucks you.

18. OCTOBER 18TH

the phone starts ringing mid session. ethan urges you to answer.

19. OCTOBER 19TH

ethan's partner for his econ project can't seem to keep her hands to herself. your jealousy gets the better of you and you decide to show who he belongs to.

20. OCTOBER 20TH

the group is out for a night of fun, unaware of the game being held between you and ethan.

21. OCTOBER 21ST

hopefully no one notices your hands down the pants of your boyfriend.

22. OCTOBER 22ND

there's nothing more enticing than what you can't see.

23. OCTOBER 23RD

you let ethan fuck you in your sleep after he comes home late.

24. OCTOBER 24TH

watching each other get off turns out to be more intimate than you thought it would be. the only rule is no touching.

25. OCTOBER 25TH

you and ethan get shit-faced drunk, unable to keep your hands to yourselves any longer.

26. OCTOBER 26TH

after the other night, you want to know what it's like to be ethan's little pet.

27. OCTOBER 27TH

cockwarming ethan as he tutors you.

28. OCTOBER 28TH

he much as he gets off on giving you pleasure, he finds just as much amusement in denying it from you.

29. OCTOBER 29TH

you finally let ethan fuck you from the back.

30. OCTOBER 30TH

october is coming close to an end, so the two of you decide to make a little reminder of your time together.

31. OCTOBER 31ST

the best thing about sex with ethan landry is the aftercare he gives afterwards.

32. NOVEMBER 1ST

you get a little more than you bargained for.

[jungkoode]

IN THE PRESENCE OF YOU

┊↬ a story about two kingdoms, one marriage, and all the words swallowed in between ↫┊

"You were promised to a man carved of ice. But ice can burn, too—if you're patient.”

quick links

read on ao3

read on wattpad

read author intro and TWs (MUST)

synopsis

You weren't meant to be anyone's wife. Certainly not his. Not the stoic, too-proper heir of a kingdom that feels like a mausoleum compared to your vibrant homeland. But politics cares nothing for what princesses want, and now you're trapped in gilded halls with a husband who treats you with impeccable, unbearable courtesy. It's a special kind of torture—being looked at but never seen. Tolerated but never wanted. So you've made it your mission to make him lose his patience.

Even if it means losing yourself in the process.

details

main ship: prince seokjin x princess reader side ships: namjoon x dahlia (OC) hoseok x rosalind (OC) genre: enemies to lovers, political arranged marriage, slowest of burns, court intrigue with intimacy rating: explicit (18+ only) words: - chapters: - status: upcoming (longfic)

chapter guide

volume one: pride & prejudice & politics

➟ #01 | the wedding that wasn't ➟ #02 | ➟ #03 | ➟ #04 | ➟ #05 | ➟ #06 | ➟ #07 | ➟ #08 | ➟ #09 | ➟ #10 | ➟ #11 | ➟ #12 | ➟ #13 | ➟ #14 |

fragments & memories

BEFORE THE ARRANGEMENT ➟ vermillion: your childhood ➟ ivory: his silent youth ➟ the negotiation (how it happened) ➟ first impressions (the palace arrival)

ROYAL INDISCRETIONS ➟ the balcony incident ➟ whispers in the council chamber ➟ that night in the library ➟ the riding lesson ➟ what happens behind tapestries

Key:

Regular titles: safe to read if up-to-date with main story

[WIP]: chapters currently being written

Strikethrough: future content & concept ideas

Read order: chronological by volume, fragments optional

content includes

♡ explicit sexual content ♡ political manipulation ♡ court intrigue & scheming ♡ arranged marriage dynamics ♡ family pressure & expectations ♡ emotional repression ♡ royal duties vs. personal desire ♡ class differences & prejudice

extras

✧ playlists:

in the presence of you - soundtrack

✧ my IPY-related art: #IPYconcepts ✧ moodboard

✧ WORLD MAP ✧ palace layouts: daeryndor royal wing

seokjin's chambers

your royal apartments

✧ tidbits/headcanons: #ipytidbits ✧ lyrics/poems that feel like ITPOY: tag your contributions with #ipylyrics

disclaimer

please be reminded that characters are purely fictional and used for creative purposes only. this is a work of fiction written for entertainment.

© jungkoode 2025 no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[velarisnightsky444]

Scorched Shadows: Part 13

Eris x Azriel's Sister OC

Summary: Estella is the younger sister of Azriel. Like her older brother, she is a shadowsinger and spymaster for the Night Court. When she meets Eris, she initially despises him, but after a bargain is made between them, and they are stuck Under the Mountain together, things begin heating up.

CW: Mentions of Beron, Eris being an asshole

Word Count: 1714

Series Masterlist

Part 12 || Part 14(upcoming)

»»————-　♔　————-««

Year: 34 Year Under The Mountain: 30

     Estella had found herself going into Eris's room when he wasn't around, just to spend her time in it. He would be busy with whatever he did during the day, and she'd sneak in, reading one of his books, or taking a nap in his bed. He'd caught her many times, but he didn't seem to care.

     She had buried herself in his bed, under the covers, savoring his scent that was left behind in the sheets. The scent of cinnamon and bonfire.

     She hid herself further under the blankets as she heard the door open. She pressed her wings down against the bed, since they were too big to fit under the blankets. 

"Are you hiding out in my room again?" he teased, nearing his bed.

"It's warm in here," she defended herself, her voice muffled from all the blankets.

     Eris reached for the covers and yanked them off of her, revealing his mate, who whined, trying to pull the covers back over herself.

"Is this what you do all day?" he mocked her. "Lay in my bed, waiting for me to come back and fuck you?"

"Just sometimes," she flushed. "Your room is nice and warm. Mine is cold."

"I'm aware," he hummed, sitting beside her. He reached a hand out to brush her hair behind her ear. "You know I'm always willing to warm your room up for you." 

"You're never around during the day," she complained. 

"I do have responsibilities, you know," he mused as he stroked her hair.

"I have responsibilities, too," she murmured, narrowing her eyes. 

"Not down here, you don't," he snorted. "Your brother makes sure of that." 

     Estella climbed on top of him, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around him. Her wings fell over them both like a warm blanket. She breathed in his scent, realizing how familiar it was becoming. She was falling for him, and in the past few years, she'd stopped hating herself for it.

      She pressed herself further into him, and he held her close. She didn't even have a desire for sex; she was much too tired. She just appreciated being held. She had always needed affection to survive, and down here, he was the only one she got it from. 

     Estella had almost fallen asleep when the sound of a door creaking open made her start. She sat up, separating herself from Eris as they both turned to the source of the sound. 

     The Lady of Autumn stood in the doorway, not looking as embarrassed as she had the last time she'd walked in to find Estella in her son's room. This time, she sighed, seeming more irritated than anything else. 

     Her red hair was unbound, falling in waves over her delicate shoulder. Her russet eyes were set on Eris, a fire behind them that Estella had never seen before. 

"Mother," Eris greeted her, his voice lined with panic. "I thought you were--"

"Save it," she snipped, her voice more stern than Estella had ever heard. "You need to meet with your father in ten minutes. He has important news." 

     She eyed Estella, as if she couldn't share any more details with the girl in the room. Estella understood that. She was an outsider, and part of a court that often went head-to-head with the Autumn Court. 

"I'll leave you be," Estella took the hint, carefully getting out of the bed. Eris didn't even glance at her as she made to leave. 

     She curtsied to the female, but the Lady of Autumn reached out, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder to stop her. Estella noticed a dark bruise on her pale wrist, barely covered by her sleeve. 

"No need for that," she reminded Estella. 

     Estella nodded, hastily leaving the room. Her face flushed red when the door closed behind her, an embarrassed huff leaving her lips. 

»»————-　♔

      Eris was not scared of many things, but at the moment, he could not look his mother in the eyes. Estella had left quickly, and once the door had closed, his mother had advanced on him. 

"What did I tell you about her?" she demanded, anger in her voice that he rarely ever heard. 

"It's nothing, Mother--" 

"If her brothers were to find out, you'd be in more trouble with them than you already are," she scolded. "Not to mention, your father--" 

"Father doesn't care who I fuck," Eris retorted. Normally, his mother would've berated him for such language, but she was already beyond that point.

"He cares who you fall in love with," she snapped. Eris went to deny it, but found that he could not. "I've never seen you keep a girl around for this long." 

     Eris finally lifted his head, meeting his mother's russet eyes. He blinked back tears that were welling in his own. His mother was the only person he cried in front of. It wasn't safe to cry around anybody else--especially his father. 

"She's my mate," he whispered, having never told another soul before. 

     Her face fell, her brows furrowing as she processed the three words that had been ringing in his head for decades now. 

"This is bad, Eris," she said softly, studying her son's face. "If your father finds out--" 

"I know," he said, nodding. "Trust me, I know." 

"No, you don't," she shook her head. "You have no idea the things he would do to her. He will make you marry her, and then he'll use her to torture you. That is, after she provides him with an heir. And if she fails to do that--" 

"I understand, Mother," he cut her off, feeling sick to his stomach. 

"I don't think you do," she scoffed. "Because if you did, I would not have found her in your room twice, now." 

"She's my mate, Mother," he repeated, choking down a sob. "I've tried to stay away from her, but I just can't." 

"I know how that feels," she confessed, her face softening as she stroked his cheek. "And I know that it's hard. Trust me, I do. But for her safety, you must." 

»»————-　♔　————-««

     Estella stayed in her cold room for a few hours, wrapping herself in her blanket and shivering. She had decided to give Eris some time and space before contacting him. 

"Is your mother upset at me?" she sent down the bond. 

     For a moment, there was silence, and that made anxiety eat at her stomach. She waited for a few seconds before finally receiving an answer. 

"No," he replied, a short answer. 

"Come over, please," she pleaded with him, no longer ashamed of begging. "My room is freezing." 

     There was another long moment before his response.

"I'll be there soon." 

     Estella could feel that something was wrong. It made her wonder what his mother had said to him. She likely hated the Night Court, just like everybody else did. She had probably heard horror stories about Rhysand, and couldn't stand that her son was associating with his Spymaster. 

     She waited for longer than she expected, about twenty minutes, when she sensed him getting closer. The string in her chest went taut, a sign that he was just behind the door.  

     The door opened, and when she saw him, a weight lifted from her shoulders. She smiled, getting to her feet and approaching him. 

"Are you alright?" she asked him, noticing his slumped shoulders and his red-rimmed eyes. 

"I'm fine," he replied, not meeting her eyes. 

"Eris," she said softly, cupping his cheek in her hand. "Look at me." 

     His eyes flit to hers, his pupils dilating as their eyes met. She lifted onto her toes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. She pulled away, kissing the tip of his nose affectionately. 

"Come to bed," she murmured. "Warm me up." 

     She led him to the bed, noticing that he wasn't taking the lead as he usually did. She kissed him one more time before lying on the bed. He got on top of her, not saying a word.

     As their lips met, his hands intertwined in her hair, and hers slipped beneath his shirt, sliding up his back. 

     They pulled apart from each other, their breaths mingling. Her fingers mindlessly traced the scars that covered his back, her brows furrowed, and before she realized she was speaking out loud, she whispered, "What happened to you?"

     Eris quickly seized her wrists, pulling her hands away from him. He stood up and turned away from her, adjusting his shirt. 

"I'm sorry," she immediately apologized. "I didn't mean to say it out loud." 

"Of course you didn't," he sneered, his face tinted red. "You don't see me asking about your hands, no matter how repulsive I find them." 

     Estella flinched at the words, at the venom in them. Her lower lip began to tremble, but she bit it, refusing to let him see her cry. 

"Get out," she said quietly. He only scoffed. "Get the fuck out of my room, Eris." Her voice was louder now, angrier. She was on her feet now, pushing him towards the door. 

"Don't touch me," he warned her, flinching away from her. 

"Then leave!" she snapped, pointing at the door. "Get out and don't come back, you asshole!" Her voice was breaking now, her eyes filling with tears. But she didn't care. 

     She shoved him out of the door, and slammed it behind him, locking it for good measure. And then she burst into tears, sliding down the wall until she was sitting on the ground, crying into her hands.

     He was the only male she had ever been with who had never even mentioned her hands. They always brought it up. Asking her what had happened, or saying backhanded things like, 'I expected it to bother me a lot more than it does.'  Or 'They're really not that bad once I got used to them.' Things that were meant to be compliments, but still hurt. 

     But Eris had never brought it up. His gaze had never lingered, he'd never flinched away from her touch, or looked at them in disgust. He treated her like she was normal. And she really appreciated that. To know that the entire time, all of those years, he'd been repulsed. It felt like betrayal. 

»»————-　♔　————-««

Scorched Shadows Taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @hnyclover @lilyevansstudygroup @esposadomd @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @a-court-of-mischief-and-madness @sourapplex @when-you-cant-think-of-anything @i-know-i-can @mp-littlebit @paintedbyshadows @kristijenner19 @kitsunetori @lorosette @bookwormysblog @libraryofshan @historygeekqueen @eyes-capone @prettty-thing @lomahdu @batboyslutt

Eris Taglist:

If there is a line through it, it won’t let me tag you.

Comment to be added to the tag lists!

»»————-　♔　————-««

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

Where did the theory of mxy bring a 17 year old come from? Like I watched the untamed, read the novel, watched the donghua and not once did I think he was even THAT young, Like its genuinely one of the small amount of theories that have me fighting the urge to pull my hair out cause I've seen ppl use it as a way to slander lwj.

People who can't read.

And wangxian antis who like to throw out the response that Wangxian is pedophilia.

Mo Xuanyu is 14 years old when Jin Guangshan summons for him again. We have the VERY narrow timeframe of 13 years, since he must have been brought into the Jin Clan just after Wei Wuxian's passing, and not in clan long enough when he was blacklisted by Jin Guangyao (who meticulously killed those who were against him starting with the He clan, Jin Guangshan and finally Nie Mingjue).

I'll go on a tangent here that it makes sense for Jin Guangyao to target Mo Xuanyu being a potentially claimed heir of Jin Guangshan, who after he died, they had no choice but to name Jin Guangyao as Chief Cultivator after Mo Xuanyu is defamed and having nothing in his name for the Jins to bother keeping him unlike Jin Guangshan the serial rapist and sexual harasser protected due to being an actual named heir and clan leader. Jin Guangyao does love his ironic revenge. We'll say Mo Xuanyu is thrown out 3 years after Wei Wuxian is killed being 17 years old at most generous, but I like to think Jin Guangshan died within the year post siege after we see Jin Guangyao with Xue Yang through the Villainous Friends extra making Mo Xuanyu 15 and without a secondary name that would be granted to gentry cultivators for turning of age and all the more of an embarrassment and failure he can't recover from socially.

This makes Mo Xuanyu 27 at time of present day story. It's roughly estimated that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were 21-22 years of age after the Siege of the Burial Mounds. Making Lan Wangji 34-35 in present day story. Potentially having an 8 year age gap between Lan Wangji and "Mo Xuanyu".

MXTX is fond of that play with an age gap of 8 years for her pairs but in each and every instance due to dying, having stopped physically aging, and literally being a whole different person, the age gap is pretty much so blurred it makes no sense to try arguing about it and kicking a fuss up. And still doesn't make Mo Xuanyu of Lan Sizhui's and Jin Ling's generation as he is literally a generation older than either of them. And why he is even addressed as "senior" Mo-qianbei (lit. Of the older generation).

Mo Xuanyu was of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji's generation. Not the "new" that we specifically can point Jin Ling as. We get textual confirmation the upcoming Jin generational naming convention is to use the "ru" 如 character for their children, outright said by a 19-20 year old Wei Wuxian when he was talking to Jiang Cheng. Remember Jin Zixuan/Jin Zixun specifically have "zi" 子 in their generational names. Jin Guangyao was purposely given his father's prior generational Jin character of "guang"光 to add insult that he wasn't considered a part of his brother's generation of claim to the clan. Mo Xuanyu being brought in at 14 because Jin Guangshan hated Jin Guangyao getting anything from the Jins being a petty hateful person regardless of Jin Guangyao's loyalty to the clan.

This all takes very simple logic to parse out if you, ya know actually read. But then these are the people that claim to have read the story for "other" reasons because they don't like that Wangxian is the focal point and anyone who reads it for the focal point are the stupid ones while they're much more above for being not like other girls for fanficcing about side character A who's life was ruined by focal point of book and MXTX is main character syndroming wangxian and justifying how they can do no wrong next to my xyz baby that got called out in her story for being a loser, creep, unbecoming (and I don't like that because me projecting into the bad guy can't be wrong, I'm a good person, so let me slander the author and call her stupid and creepy and biased now).

[sakuraryomen01]

Valentino /Sukuna Ryomen x Fem! Reader/ .11 [Slight Nsfw]

warnings: asshole sukuna, college prep. school (aka bitch u at an expensive ass school), former friends to lovers, slow burned love, yuji is sukuna's little brother, ec project with Nickolas the transfer student, drunk sukuna shows up at the dorm(!?), a small makeout session, some sexual touching and mentions of grinding/humping at readers thighs, caring for this stressed out man-slut, ooc sukuna.

reader: female reader; 23 years of age, college prep.

plot: It's been years since you've moved from country life, since you've forgotten about all the things you used to love about your hometown and where you grew up from... you didn't think it'd chase you to college in the city after almost a decade..

words: 5.036k

fanfic masterlist: .o1 .o2 .o3 .o4 .o5 .o6 .o7 .o8 .o9 .10 .11 .12 .13 .14 .15 .16 .17 .18 .19 .20

a/n: hey guys! sorry for the delay ^^ i've been wanting to get some chapters drafted before posting them! ty sm for the patience i hope u enjoy and r ready for the upcoming drama between sukuna and y/n!

a/n 2: so so sooooo sorry for being three days later after saying i'd be posting right away!!>< I was with family and the wifi was being iffy the last few days. I couldn't access many of my socials and much less work on the final draft of the chapter!! i powered thro until i was satified and it's finally here! i hope you enjoy!!

chapter/idea cred to: @misslauravillanueva i needed to give credit for the help! i was struggling on what to do!><

. . .

Thank you for reading this! Enjoy!

“Achoo!”

“Ah, are you alright?” Geto’s cool tone echoed from the kitchen, his brow raised with a curious expression written on his face. “Coming down with something? I told you to relax from studying for a while–”

“It’s not that!” You huff, cheeks burning with embarrassment. ”I just sneezed. I don’t know why though..”

“Okay, relax. I’m not gonna get upset.”

With a pout, you leaned against the armrest of the couch. Bowl of mac and cheese with little hot dogs in hand and a Coke on the coffee table. Eyes returning back to the TV screen and watching the current crime show playing, listening to the crimes that the murderer committed as he was handed a death sentence. 

Sometimes, when I let my mind wander to Sukuna.. It feels like that.

The idea that he’s now stuck on your mind despite all the anger he had towards you. The almost strange obsession and addiction to the idea of him. While you’ve been repetitively trying to control these new emotions and thoughts, you couldn’t help it. Seeing Sukuna that day in Ec class all those days ago. Having to tutor him. Even dealing with his weird smirks and teasing.

..That kiss too..

“Your face is doing that thing again, Y/n,” Geto’s voice chirped out of nowhere, causing you to jolt in your spot. “So jumpy over a guy? You know therapy exists, right?”

Returning a rather poorly chosen burn, Geto stood from his spot on the couch and waved a hand at you. Grabbing his things and his shoes from the carpet near the door, he sent you another telling look.

“If you're this upset, just ask what's up. Seriously, seeing you get stressed over this is kinda.. sad.”

There was a stabbing pain in your chest. You knew.

“Good night to you too, Suguru,” You hum, leaning on your fist as the door closed with a click. Leaving you alone in the dormitory for a few moments.

Your thoughts clouding your headspace until you decided to go to bed. Unable to understand this dreadful lil thing people called love, unable to understand why Sukuna Ryomen had crawled his way into your heart just by being an ass.

Tomorrow is another day.. Right?

. . .

“Today we'll be picking partners for class projects!”

Eh?? Ehhhhh????

You blinked a few times at the announcement, looking down towards Toji as students began to groan and complain a little. Quickly these were silenced as Toji lifted a stack of papers and chuckled deeply in his husky voice.

“It's not my problem, just get them done. You have two weeks to do it, so get your partners. The class is uneven so be ready for one of y'all's groups to have an extra person. It's a self-pick topic type of thing so start discussing today or tomorrow your topic and go with it!”

Toji tapped the papers on his desk and sat, letting his tie loose as he started relaxing for the rest of the period.

“If you need suggestions for your topic, there's a list in here along with your presentation requirements. I expect all names and correct citations with these as well.”

You let out a small groan and rub your temple. Not only were you stressed, now you had to deal with this? Extra shifts at work couldn't save you from this type of annoyance. It's not that you hated group projects, it's just a small tick when half of them throw the work onto you.

Pros and cons. Pros– none. Cons– work was usually tossed onto you.

You stood from your desk and began making your way down the steps to grab a paper. A strange chill ran up your spine as you passed Sukuna’s. Sparing a glance over, your cheeks warmed almost immediately.

Some bits of hair were pinned back and a pen rested on an ear. His shirt had a few buttons undone with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Black pants tight enough to have made a bakery spawn on the seat he sat upon. He looked really handsome, daring to battle even Toji’s good looks, and it was getting to you. 

What hit the nail in the coffin is when he just so happened to catch you ogling with your tongue practically hanging out of your mouth. His eyes sharpened at your expression as a smirk curled at the corners of his lips.

An almost playful yet teasing smile you weren't used to seeing on his face caught you off guard. It made your face hot, and your shame grow a few beats in that moment.

“Stop creeping” was basically what his face was saying.

Letting out a strained cough, you covered your face and made your way back up to your desk. Positive that his eyes had followed you all the way up the stairs before you sat in your spot. Hiding behind the paper and some random book you grabbed from your bag.

You couldn't be more obvious, could you?

While fellow students started to shift in their seats and partner up with friends and just random buddies from in the room, Sukuna was swarmed with a small audience of girls as he stood from his seat to also fetch a paper. The guys that sat around him gave him annoyed side-eyes and snorts as he absorbed the attention from all the women in the room. 

“Sukuna, do you wanna partner with me?” One asked, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose and letting the blush on her cheeks show.

“Me too, we could all do it together!” Another spoke up, poking her button nose into their conversation. Her bright green eyes staring up at Sukuna with a needy gleam.

It makes you confused to an extent, making you press your brows together as you look to the side. Sukuna probably thought that's what you looked like every time you saw him. It makes your heart ache and head throb, another grand headache to your already upsetting day.

Just let your mind be normal for once in your life.

You begin to gather your things and part from the room, the hustle and bustle of the classroom quietly fading into the background. Letting out a relaxed sigh as the sight of your bed creeped into the corners of your mind– oh, how you wished to be relaxing in bed with your favorite stuffy.

“Hello, miss? Would you like to be my partner for the project?” A voice suddenly called from behind you, somewhat echoing throughout the quiet hallways. It startled you since you didn’t expect anyone to follow you out of the classroom asking such a thing, it piqued your interest.

Lifting your head, you come face to face with someone you didn’t know.

His dark hair was up in a bun with his undercut showing behind his pierced ears, a kind smile flashing behind yet another piercing on his lip. Tanned skin that seemed to glow like it was pampered with the best beauty products around, not a scar or pimple in sight. Cute dimples at the corners of his lips adding to his boyish charm while his honey eyes gleamed at you. It reminded you of Yuji in a sense, but this was not Yuji.

You’ve never seen this guy before– a really cute one at that.

“Hello,” you say, momentarily stunned at the stranger, letting your hand weakly wave. “Uhm, partner?”

There was an adorable chuckle that furthered your stunned silence before you heard a response. “Yes, I saw you walk out here alone and thought you might need one.”

You take in a deep breath, regaining your composure quickly and patting yourself down. “Ah, right. I actually don’t like having a partner, my past experiences have led me to conclude that they’re not the best option for a project. Besides, I’m a big girl, I can handle one on my own.”

“I can see why,” He starts, looking back at the classroom with the still clamoring students before returning his attention to you. “That horde in there was after one guy, they don’t care about this project. I was actually about to do the same as you when I saw my choices were so low.”

Rubbing a big calloused hand over his nape, the strangers’ almond eyes looked from the empty halls and to you, his smile sheepish. “Please? Don’t make me beg now.”

There was a small silence between you and the stranger as you considered walking off and letting him go with his original plan before the Economics class erupted with whines as Sukuna and a girl walked from inside. The color left your cheeks, seeing the girl’s arm wrapped tightly around Sukuna’s. Looking as if he was protecting her from the growing crowd of the class, engaging in an active conversation as they walked on by.

Your heart sank sharply, seeing Sukuna letting someone else into his circle. He used to be so cold, so annoyed with people when he was younger. Only letting you really hold him that close, giving you nuzzles of appreciation since he didn’t like to say it aloud.

Now, he gives you the cold shoulder and holds others that aren’t you close.

Without letting your head finish its last thought and your eyes still trained on the back of Sukuna’s head, you gave a nod and looked back at the stranger. “Sure. I’m Y/n L/n, by the way.”

“Really? That’s great!” He smiled, the warmth of his company lightening your mood sufficiently more than it was a few moments ago. “My name’s Nickolas Alveres, it’s nice to meet you, L/n.”

The both of you share a smile for a second before Nickolas nods down the hall, motioning for the both of you to head to your next classes. He doesn’t wait for you to join him, but you do anyway. Trying to make small talk with him as you try to get to know your partner, letting the smile on your lips stick.

While you wore a smile, someone else had a frown. A deep scowl, if you will. You didn’t feel it, but Sukuna’s partner saw it.

She raised a brow, cheeks tinted a slight color as she cast her gaze in the same direction. Seeing you close to another man, only escalating the befuddlement.

“What’s wrong, Sukuna?”

A disgruntled look was plastered all over said man’s face, his frown so prominent it was a waste of time to even attempt to hide it. A chasm of wrinkles forming on his forehead as his brows pressed together at the sight before him. Watching the way you and some kid walked side by side with a smile on your face, not a care in the world.

When did you get so chummy?

“It’s nothing.. Let’s go, Haru,” He said, not sparing a second to look back at you. With a huff, he pulled his work partner, Haru, with him to the nearby library to find a good subject for this project.

It’s what he wanted anyways.. right?

. . .

“Wait, wait.. He punched Gojo in the face?!” Nickolas laughed, holding his cup up to his lips quickly to cover his giggles and chuckles. His nose crinkled up as they continued despite his obvious resistance. “He must’ve been drunk too to get so defensive!! I thought he was just a jerk most of the time.”

“Usually he is,” You start, crossing your legs under the coffee table. Looking over some of the notebooks the both of you had sprawled out onto the wood to look for any good topics to talk about in the presentation. Quickly, you scribbled out one, taking a sip from your cup and looking back up to Nickolas. “Recently though, he’s been alright. Not as mean as he used to be, but not one-hundred percent rude and annoying.”

A calm silence filled the air as Nickolas rested his work in his lap, taking a moment to look from them to you. “Speaking of, how long have you known this guy? You talk about him like he’s an old friend.”

The corner of your lips twitch upwards for a short second before you let your face relax. “He was. Not really interested in joining forces again recently.”

Nickolas nodded his head in understanding, eyes glazing over somewhat on what response to give. Seeing that the idea of this guy somehow hurt you, it got him concerned. Why bother letting him get to you so deeply if this is the result? It doesn’t make sense.

“Don’t let it get to you too much, Y/n,” He mustered after a short silence, placing his cup on the coffee table and letting his ring tap against the plastic. “If he’s still letting you be this close, even helping you care for a friend, that’s gotta be something.”

You nod numbly, knowing the obvious has been said too many times. Talk to him, ask him how he’s doing about the relationship, what does he want from you? The same three things that you always wanted to say when you were with him, but how. Other than tutoring, other than being near each other in class, you and Sukuna spent little to no time together.

All you remember about him is that he was the tough kid in school with home problems that liked to play tag and hide and seek. That he scared you with bugs and frogs while at the lake or near the Willow tree. The fond memories you shared with him couldn’t be the only factor that you had to use to judge what you wanted, you had to be around him more.

How was going to be the hardest puzzle to solve.

“Oh well,” Nickolas yawned, stretching his arms over his head. “It’s about time i get headed to my dorm. I have an early class tomorrow. I’ll leave you my number so that we can plan meetings for the project!”

Jokes and laughter filled the room as you and your partner exchanged information when there was a loud commotion at the door. You glanced from Nickolas to the dorm door and let out a light hearted chuckle, waving your hands next to your head.

“Ah, I’ll go get that! Gather your things, okay?”

Nickolas nodded and turned to his open binder and mess of notebook paper splayed on the coffee table, humming to himself as you rushed over to the front door. Hair stood at attention when you opened that door, seeing a messed up man laying on the hallway floor. A big wine bottle squeezed tightly in his right hand, the other placed next to his head on the floor.

His voice came out in gentle hums of some random rock song, lyrics jumping out from his mouth every second or so in a drunken daze. His fluffy hair was messy and almost unrecognizable until you realized who it was.

It was Sukuna.

“Wh.. What are you doing here?” You shout, shocked at his arrival, but there was not really a response. Only his hand raising to wave his finger around to the hum of his song. “Sukuna, answer me!!”

“..rather be.. Than lonely..”

Letting out a sigh, you look back at Nickolas and see his confused face staring at the gap between you and the door down at Sukuna. He stood there ready to go with his bag strap on his shoulder and keys in hand, giving you quick glances for some semblance of an answer. You give a small shrug, looking back to the immobile man on the ground.

Gently, you kick at one of his legs to try and get something out of him. “Sukuna, get up!”

Not a single thing, just a grunt and a tussle before your eyes finally connect with glazed ones. Maroon pools that were foggy beyond belief, not having a thought behind them. Nickolas tilts his head to the side and shakes it, giving you a pat on the arm and a sheepish smile.

“I'll get out of your hair, Y/n. Good luck!”

You step out of the man’s way, looking down at the disgruntled Sukuna and give a weak chuckle. Parting ways with Nickolas for the evening and kneeling down to Sukuna and shaking his shoulder. “Sukuna, you’ll get sick, get up.”

“..Doesn’t matter,” Sukuna mumbled, closing his eyes and taking a sip of his drink. “F’m sick, I’ll just be sick..”

“It does matter, now get up.”

You did your best to pull Sukuna up by his arm and into a sitting position, hooking the limp appendage over your shoulder and lifting him up onto his feet. It was a struggle since Sukuna was so heavy, but you managed. The stench of alcohol reeked from his breath and shirt, mixes of dirt and some stains that you didn’t feel the need to ask where they came from. 

Stumbling into your dormitory you freed the near empty beer bottle from Sukuna’s grasp and pulled the door close. He wasn’t giving much fight– probably due to the amount he drank– and just leaned his weight onto you. Mumbling to himself about things you weren’t going to pressure him into answering. Still, it made you wonder.

What the hell drove him to come to my place?

Surely, he wouldn’t mind answering that.

With a huff to your lips you plopped Sukuna’s heavy ass onto the couch and folded your arms. The beer bottle in your hand swirling around as you rotate your wrist ever so slightly, brow raising at Sukuna’s nearly asleep form. It was odd to see the big, strong and mean Sukuna Ryomen on his last leg from intoxication. 

Despite this, you found it cute.

“I’ll go get you some water and maybe a change of clothes,” You announce, tilting your head to see if that gauges a reaction. Sadly there was nothing but a huff and some finger taps on the couch’s cushions. Letting your arms fall to your side, you grunt and place the beer on the table. “Whatever, I’ll be right back.”

You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and some extra sheets from your bedroom before making your way back into the living room to Sukuna. A fresh set of clothing was provided, thanks to Geto’s many late night bang sessions with Shoko, and some cooling pads were placed next to Sukuna on the couch. He didn’t do much but glance at the items, turning his face away in– what you assumed– was a quiet protest.

Sukuna never acted this petty and spoiled before. What’s gotten into him?

“Let’s get you changed, yeah?” Gently, you press your hands to his chest, earning a reaffirming nod and proceeding to undo the buttons of his collared shirt. 

It was strange to be in this position. On your knees, undressing the man you’ve pinned for for so long, only to be seeing this messy and unkempt side you didn’t like to imagine him being. The feelings in your chest that you wanted to put away were making your heart race once more, every glance you got to see from the mess you called Sukuna.

His hair made him resemble his brother more than anything else now, hanging over his sweaty forehead and tattoo. Arms hanging loosely at his sides, man spreading for all of the world to see. Shamefully, you enjoyed the calm attention. Even though it was unsightly, you liked getting to touch all over Sukuna’s body.

“There,” You mumble to yourself, having officially released Sukuna from his shirt. “N-Now, onto your..”

Trailing off, you look down at Sukuna’s pants. Swallowing thickly at the idea of pulling off his trousers, you took a deep breath. I’m never going to live this shame down!

Gently, you began to undo his belt. You face burning ever more as the air began to tense, wishing that anyone but you would be this bashful over something so silly. Still, regret hit you harder than the embarrassment or shame ever could.

Sukuna was watching you. Watching your hands slip the belt loose, pulling his button undone and pulling at his waistband. You tugged, unable to yank them down and free his lower half.

“Sukuna.. Can you lift your hips?” You ask in a soft voice, startled by the quick response. But what was it really, he was watching your every move. You felt like you were being examined in some office and not helping Sukuna undress. “Thank you.”

“Mm.”

Making haste of the situation, you pulled down the fabric of his trousers and grabbed the loose shorts you had found from earlier. Ignoring all thoughts of Sukuna and how perfect his legs looked, the thick black bands of his tattoos on the fat of his thigh. The way the bulge in his briefs was much a cause for distraction, even denying that it twitched once freed from it’s confines.

Yep, never happened.

“There, all better,” You sigh, satisfied. “Now that your ready for bed, I’m going to do the same.”

It took a few minutes, but you had completely reclothed Sukuna and he now looked more sleepy and ready for bed rather than drunk off his ass and about to black out on the couch. You had struggled to even get him to take a sip of water and sober up, but to no avail. You figured you’d have to try again tomorrow morning and explain the situation once he woke up in a confused fit.

Getting him comfortable on the couch too was another ordeal you didn’t think you’d go through, but you did. Tucking in the large male until he was all cozy and warm, safely resting his head on one of your spare pillows.

“I’ll see ya in the morning, Ryo,” You mumble, letting your mind wander for a moment and tracing the outline of one of his tattoos on his bicep. Feeling the muscle twitch under your touch momentarily.

“Mgh,” Sukuna muffled out, cheeks warm to the touch.

Letting out another sigh, you stand from your spot next to the couch. Only to be pulled back towards the culprit at hand, falling ass first next to his lap. Sukuna didn’t make a sound, just grasped onto your hips and pulled you in for a hug. His arms anchored around your lower stomach, pressing into the arch of your spine and forcing you to press against him as well.

His nose was pressed into the crook of your shoulder, but you continued to crusade for answers from the sudden affection. “AGH! Sukuna, that was highly uncalled for!! What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Answer me, dammit–!!”

“Who was that guy?”

You flinch, caught off guard. The clarity and conviction in Sukuna’s voice was strange, seeing as he had been stumbling and leaning into you for the last few moments. “Uhm, my Economics partner Nickolas. It shouldn’t matter, you need to sleep!”

“I don’t need sleep,” Sukuna grunts out, lifting himself off of the couch and trapping you underneath him. Using his big arms like a cage, eyes locking you in place with a vice on your heart. “What was he doin’ hanging here?”

“Sukuna, this is childish,” You start, ready to defend yourself for a confrontation. “He’s my class partner, you shouldn’t be upset over it.”

Wait.. why was he upset?

Previously, he had never seemed to give a flying fuck what you did or whom you did it with. What’s with the sudden change of heart? It made yours ache at the possibilities, wondering what could it be that made him so hostile all of the sudden over Nickolas.

“I barely know him anyways..”

“And you let him sit here on this couch?”

There was a small slap sound as skin met skin, Sukuna’s palm and fingers grasping your chin and cheeks. A gentle but firm squeeze sent shivers down your spine, your hand reaching up to try and pull Sukuna’s off but to no avail. His eyes scanned your face for anything, a sign.

Something. Anything that would make this ache in his chest stop.

“What is he to you, huh?” His voice came out rough, deep. Intimidating. 

It was scary, but a shudder was sent up your spine. A lustful and unneeded shudder, one that sent ideas to your brain. That made your mind wander, but you held them back. 

Even as Sukuna’s lips captured yours, as his teeth grazed and nibbled at your lower lip, your hands reached up to tangle themselves in his pink locks. You had to deny, because the Sukuna that was here wasn’t really him. It was a drunk and dissociated version of him, a side that you normally didn’t see. 

A side that he probably didn’t like showing.

“Did you let him do this, mh?” Sukuna muttered, pulling away from your mouth. A string of saliva connecting the both of you for a moment as your lungs fought for breath. Chest rising and falling heavily, your hands hold onto Sukuna’s arms, trying to find something to stabilize yourself in this mess of kisses.

“N-No, we just.. Talked about class–”

“Talked? About class? Me? You?”

Sukuna retreated his touch from your face and instead placed them on your thighs. Laying beside you on the couch, keeping you trapped against his chest and making sure to dress the blankets over you.

“Sukuna, seriously, this isn’t funny anymore,” You whimper, covering your face. How could you push this away? You’ve wanted nothing but to be closer to him, haven’t you?

Desired, pleaded. You wanted everything.. But this wasn’t the way.

Feeling Sukuna’s hands wrap around your waist, having his hot breath on your neck and shoulder as he rutted his hips against the fat of your ass. You felt utterly guilty, like trash. Wanting to crawl away from Sukuna and save him the little grace he had, to avoid giving him something to wake up and regret tomorrow.

“Y/n.. look at me.. Look at what you’ve done,” The man in question ordered, hooking your top leg over his elbow. Letting the bulge in his pants grow more and more, his voice becoming ragged and deep as he got harder and harder. “You’re making a mess of me, can’t you tell?”

You nod, wanting to pull away and sleep in your bed. But the desires in you only wanted you to fall deeper. The strings of your heart being plucked as Sukuna’s lips found the sensitive skin of your neck. Marking and sucking, lewd sucking sounds erupting from his lips as he made harsh hickeys form on the skin.

Mewl after moan escaped you, your pussy wet and slick under the confines of your panties and pajama bottoms. Sukuna could tell, releasing your leg from his hold and slowing his hips for a moment until his hand migrated to your front.

Grinding the flat surface of his palm against your clothed cunt, whispering naughty words into your ear that you had to drown out. Even if the wants in your belly wished for Sukuna to be there, to fill up your insides and make a mess. To be closer than he’s ever let you been for the last month or so, you had to stop this.

And you did, with much regret.

“Sukuna, stop,” You whimper, pulling Sukuna’s hand away from your body. Breaths coming out in baited huffs, you sat up. Not taking a moment to let yourself get lured back in, feeling Sukuna’s hand find your waist again as you resisted further.

“Stop what?” He mutters, annoyance in his voice. Laced with an emotion you wished to unhear. “Didn’t you want this too?”

“Not like this.” Cold, respectful. You had to be this way, to give Sukuna another chance. Letting him have his way now in such a drunken state, you wouldn’t be able to recover a good relationship. “If I was like anyone else, you’d be taken advantage of.”

Sukuna’s touch softened, his glazed eyes clearing for a moment as he looked at the back of your head. Seeing a shimmer of something on your cheek, his fingers trembled. He desired to reach up, to brush those tears away. It was against his very nature, his very being.

He didn’t like the idea of being all cuddly and cozy, being soft and vulnerable with someone. The idea of it made his stomach churn and made the urge to vomit impending. 

But, with you. Seeing those tears form, for his sake. He felt irritated with himself. He caused it. Him.

“I’m going to bed now,” You say, voice shaken up. “Get some water, sleep.”

You stood from your place on the sofa and walked over to the small hallway, entering your bedroom and letting out a shuddering exhale. A weight was now firmly sitting on your chest. It ached, it hurt, it burned.

Everything that pain felt like was exploding in your chest. Reaching up a hand to try and comfort yourself wasn’t worth the effort either as you slid down the wood of your bedroom door. Curling into a feeble position as the tears fell from your eyes, finally free after holding them the whole time.

What you wished you could do about the man on your couch.

. . .

a/n: y'all i literally have a crippling addiction to crime videos and all that shit it's just so interesting for no reason oml (crying inside) also sorry for the month long pause (i say sorry too much) i was creating new characters and working on ideas for the next few chapters!

Chapter Song Them: — Granite - Sleep Token (Lyrics)

taglist: @mageyboo, @mzladyd , @mysticwonderlandangel, @sukunaspersonalfleshlight, @kawaiipenguin20, @k-indie, @okkotsufav, @cafeinthemoon93, @pulchritxde, @bontenbunny, @deepinballs, @kleebloomed, @fiierytearzx, @wo-ming-bai, @instantgalaxysheep, @watyousayin, @z3r0art, @sukunaobsessed, @lik0, @sukunasfirstlove, @princesstiti14, @nemoyr, @ladywolf44005, @cat-mak20, @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn, @hxlalokidottir, @domainofmarie, @the-moongoddess, @dark-n-dirty-duchess, @agentdedf1sh, @sukunastoy, @lyn-soso, @bao-yu-sarah-morningstar-wang-9, @heyitstacy, @lost-in-tokyo, @marksassybanana, @bozos-r-us , @p-3-4-c-h, @chaoticqueen33, @dxxny-loves-u, @l0tus-in-l0ve , @jiordeci, @opossum0-0, @gumisgirl, @mommasbigd, @heyitstacy, @misslauravillanueva, @fallenlostarchives, @infinitivesearch

last chapter || next chapter

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 26. together

chapter tags/warnings: a very broken marriage. heavy angst. at least i am not gege. mai and maki and megumi as an iconic trio. infidelity/adultery. family drama. strong language. corruption. 

word count: 4.8k

notes: thank you for the overwhelming reception from the last chapter! work has been consuming my life, sadly, which is why this chapter took longer than i anticipated. gr. in this upcoming piece, though, my main focuses are the character development in y/n as well as explanations from toji himself. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

A large, warm hand massaged the delicate stretch between your thumb and forefinger. 

Gently. Leisurely. Daintily. 

Vanilla and cinnamon notes entered your lungs with every inhale, a velvetiness akin to everything you imagined clouds to be like if brushing against your cheek, the comforting sensations bringing back nostalgic memories from the carefree times your heart longed to return to. 

Was this Heaven? you wondered in this dark and dreamy daze.

You would not mind staying in this state eternally if that meant the promise of peace and quiet forever.

A voice, not from yourself, dispersed your thoughts.

“Suguru, what are the chances she won’t ever wake up?” 

Wake up?

Oh, so you were just asleep.

“Shut up, Sukuna,” another person quipped, this tone more leveled and coarser than the last. “Don’t say shit like that.”

The first person, who must be Sukuna then, chuckled lowly to himself. “Oh, who would’ve thought? Choso is having a soft spot?” he marveled with great interest, “Since when did you care so much about—”

But a third voice interrupted the banter. “She’s awake.”

After a long struggle, your eyes fluttered open to see a crowd gathered around you. Immediately beside you was Suguru Geto. He had been the one nestling your hand, but he practically didn’t look like himself with the concern etched into his brow, replacing the cheerfulness in his typical visage. Behind him stood Sukuna and Choso. The former grinned with fierce satisfaction, while the latter…scowled at you?

To be fair, Choso always scowled at you.

“Good evening, gorgeous.” Geto greeted with a melancholic smile, giving you another squeeze, firm and encouraging. Like a true gentleman, he helped you sit upright, his other hand reaching over your head to brush aside some stray strands by your forehead. “Are you feeling okay?” 

Exhaustion, meanwhile, rattled you to the bone.

You were weak, your movements fragile, almost like you were a fawn in her first hours of life. You blinked rapidly while taking in the new environment, only to quickly recognize the gray and cream colors in your surroundings. Back at Toji’s apartment was where you found yourself, with the familiar spiced floral scents from the flickering candle nearby confirming that this was the master bedroom. 

Given the dull throb by your temples, you frowned.

“What—?” your voice came out as a hoarse rasp. “What happened?”

The trio traded looks at each other with communicative eyes.

In the end, Choso tucked his hands into his front pocket and took the initiative to speak. 

“You were in the Zenin residence with Mai and Maki, remember?” No, not really.“Got into an argument with your husband. Started having a panic attack. Collapsed. Puked.”

Oh…

Recollections from your last conscious moments flooded your head like a tsunami: the screaming, the crying, and the fighting. Loud, angry, bitter fighting. 

Fighting for your dignity. Fighting for your heart. Fighting for your life. Goodness gracious. As much as the memories sucked all life from you, you instead felt completely…numb. 

After all, you had already been dead on the inside. You were too worn out, both physically and emotionally, to react. Everything that you had to go through since your wedding had brought you to your wit’s end, and this recent altercation with Naoya Zenin was truly the icing on the cake. 

When you caught sight of yourself in a nearby mirror, you could hardly recognize yourself. Your expression, glum. Your lips, chafed, Your face, pallor. Absent of any other color than an ashen hue. 

“How…did I get here?”

“Mai and Maki got worried and called Toji, who told them to bring you here,” Sukuna answered this time. “You’re lucky the girls reacted fast, else we would have sent you to an emergency room. Suguru even stopped his shift at his clinic to watch over you.”

“I—,” you sighed, lost for words and dropping your tired gaze to the floor. Dealing with inner turmoil to this degree was more than what any sane person could handle. All efforts towards your happiness were in vain anyway, as the cosmos conspired to make your existence one neverending nightmare. Everyone else had their ambitions and shit to deal with, but here you were as an absolute nuisance to the people who should not be otherwise pestered, and you were ashamed for the unnecessary trouble that you had caused. “Gosh, this is embarrassing.”

“We are so sorry!” 

Unexpectedly, the apology came from a girl’s voice, and you had to turn around to see three familiar teenagers by the bedroom door. 

Just last week, you would never have imagined ever seeing Mai, Maki, and Megumi together. Yet, here you were, watching the twins and their—technically speaking—nephew (cute) standing side-by-side, twiddling their thumbs in their nervous corner (also cute). 

Flustered and prepared for admonishment, Mai bowed her head at a slight angle as she hurriedly explained, “We don’t…We don’t mean to put you in an awkward position. We just didn’t know what to do. Maki and I were worried when you fell to the floor and started throwing up. We…We should’ve asked for your permission on who to call for help. But we didn’t know who else to phone, so we ended up dialing Toji. Now, we’ve put you in a weird spot and that is all our fault—”

“Do not apologize. That was the right thing to do.” The comment came from yet another person, and when Sukuna and Choso stepped to the side, who you saw at the room’s furthest end was none other than Toji Fushiguro himself. 

He had taken a seat all the way by the wall, with one leg thrust over the other in a relaxed but kingly sort of manner. With his sleeves rolled up, his forearms bled to his wrists with ink, and the emeralds in his sharp gaze gleamed as he stared pointedly in your direction. 

Of everyone in the room, his countenance appeared the most composed, but you could feelhim reading through the emotions present on your face. He inclined forward, resting his elbow on his knee and his chin on his palm. 

When he noticed the slightest shift in your posture too, the tiny scar by his lips flexed along with a smile.

“So, you’ve figured me out, hm?”

Easily, you could sense all seven pairs of eyes in the room (the four therapists plus the three teens) landing on you. The sudden attention rendered you nervous. Even if you chose silence as your response, the entire room, the entire planet, and perhaps even the entire galaxy could speculate your answer through your expression alone.

After a long while, you breathed out, “You didn’t tell me that you were a Zenin.”

The elephant in the room had to be addressed obviously, and you were not shy to confront the situation head-on.

While you did not intend to sound accusatory, your tone came off as such anyway. How could you not, when you had essentially been misled for weeks? Sure, Toji probably did not want to be badmouthing the Zenins to the very person (you) who had been recently married into the family. But, by withholding the fact that he and your husband were cousins, Toji had created much unnecessary anguish including the current limbo that your marriage was in right now. 

Meanwhile, that same man pressed his nails into his chin in contemplation. 

“I am not a Zenin, though,” he eventually corrected in a domineering voice, all austere in his throne. “At least, not any longer. I took my first wife’s last name years ago. I go by Fushiguro now.” Curt, direct, and pithy. Toji wasted not a syllable. “Everything worked out though, I guess. Naobito cut me off from the Zenin clan earlier this year. Gave me ten billion yen and told me to get lost, so I did.”

Toji always kept his private matters to himself, but with everything that he had gone through, you were struck by his poise, as if being expelled from such an influential household had been a high-school breakup he had gotten over long ago. 

Nonetheless, you wondered if he missed that other life, and you brought your knees toward your chest.

“So,” how should you put this, “you’re not upset?”

Toji scoffed immediately.

“Upset?” A bitter grin spread off his lips. “Why would I be upset? That household is a trash dump. All my life, there were no choices for me to make when my uncles and granduncles decided everything already,” and he began counting with his fingers, “my teachers, my classes, my extracurriculars, my friends. Everything. I was only a puppet to bring honor to the family name, bring in money for the company.”

Listening to his sonorous voice, you rested your cheek onto a knee.

"I see."

His story was depressing, and from conversations with in-laws such as Mai and Maki, you knew that he was not lying, either. Coming from nobility as well, you were also aware of the pressures that came with the people who boasted their 'old-money' statuses, but the Zenin household had always been notorious for being miserable. 

Toji had said so before in a prior discussion, how ‘family isn’t family for something like the Zenins’ because both politics and business took precedence.

Then, he went on.

“Some people would kill to have my problems, but I did not want that life, you know? Around the time I started college, I decided that I wanted to make judgments for myself and be my own distinct entity, but that made people upset. Privileged. Entitled. Ungrateful. Whatever. My family members called me many things as a young adult when they figured I did not want to be their pawn for my whole life, with the only person who understood me for many years being my best friend in university.”

Megumi’s mom.

Toji nearly appeared to be an altogether different person whenever he spoke about his first wife. The chartreuse in his eyes would stir with both sorrow and fond reminiscence as he thought about the Mrs. Fushiguro you would never get to meet, his closest confidant whom he lost to the cruel separation brought by life versus death. She must have been someone whom he valued a lot—a person who completely transformed him—as Toji had discarded his last name (which was Zenin, of all things) for hers.

‘He truly loved my mom,’ Megumi explained before. 'He had given up everything.’

Thus, fate could truly be unfair.

The loss and pain Toji must have endured, a topic Megumi had alluded to in his discussion with you before.

Not to mention, the expectations, frustration, and suffocation that came from the clan's elders, too. Experiencing the intense atmosphere in the Zenin household firsthand allowed you to empathize with him. Given the stark differences between him and your lawful husband, there was no wonder Toji did not wish to deal with his older relatives' high-strung conventions.

But, if he had been suffering so much… 

“Why did you care so much for what your family thought?” you asked, disregarding the look that the three teenagers by the door exchanged with each other. “Toji, you went to university in the United States. You had a wife and son at a young age. You went from a business background to a licensed therapist, so why did you not—”

“Leaving is difficult when you’re the family heir and the corporation’s CEO.” 

The expression that you then returned was blank.

Huh?

His words triggered something in your head, so you repeated after him.

“Leaving is difficult when,” and your voice trailed off, “when…you…are the heir and CEO.”

Heir. CEO.

Zenin.

Toji.

Naoya.

But Toji’s older.

‘Naoya got into a huge dispute with him earlier this year.’

Sheer realization slapped you hard across your face. No way.

“Toji,” you began after letting the revelation sink into you a while later, but your voice barely eeked above a mumble, “so you were once the successor to the Zenin household and company?"

The man in question did not respond, but the silent affirmation from the six other onlookers was an answer in itself.

Yes.

In hindsight, you wanted to say you had always seen the possibility. Still, you never fully registered this until now: the thoughtfulness in his strategy, the sophistication in his speech, the charisma in his leadership. 

Previously, Toji had impressed you with how much he knew about the Zenin Corporation’s market share in the Asia-Pacific or the firm’s outsized influence on the international stage. Yet, most (including yourself) would not guess that someone like Toji Fushiguro—your tattooed and brawny sex therapist (plus single dad)—had once been heralded as the indisputable inheritor to the proud lineage and conglomerate. 

That had been your mistake. 

Toji was more than what people made him out to be, which reminded you to never assume anything superficially about someone—a remark he had once made. For good reason, because he had been referring to himself all along.

You could almost visualize Toji Fushiguro as the seasoned executive he had once been in light of this new information: his black strands slicked into a side part, his charcoal blazer freshly pressed, his leather oxfords newly polished. 

Maybe because he was more mature or maybe because he was simply older, but Toji appeared more fitting for the important roles in the Zenin household compared to the man presently poised for succession. 

Consequently, you must also ask, “Then, how did Naoya end up in your seat?”

Sukuna and Megumi shared a glance.

Choso grimaced, and Suguru kissed his teeth.

Meanwhile, Toji ran a lone finger down his jaw, following the lines from a tattoo. 

“Let me give you some context, sweetheart,” he offered, now brushing his chin as he spoke. “For the last—let’s say—few hundred years, the oldest male in each generation became the leader in the Zenin clan. Is the rule stupid? Yes. Should there be more criteria in evaluating a potential heir aside from birth order? Also yes. But nothing has stopped this before because the Zenins, as you know by now, are a family built on antiquity and tradition. So, when I was born as the oldest male in my generation and Naoya had come in second place...” 

Toji did not have to finish his sentence for you to figure out the rest.

Despite the demands that came along with being the next family head, Toji must have been esteemed as nothing short of a crown price among the Japanese elite, with seniors in the Zenin household utilizing all their resources to prepare the once young and starry-eyed boy for taking over such an influential role. Naturally, his enviable position would spark jealousy, even from those whom Toji deemed related to by birth.

Including his very own younger first cousin.

Toji frowned in exasperation.

“Your husband is one childish and jealous brat, but Naoya Zenin has been like that for as long as I have known him. To claim the heir and CEO titles, he acquired the trust from myself and my colleagues by working with us in sex therapy, only to stab us all in the back. He’s a liar. A total manipulator.” 

And, from personal experiences, you knew that those words could not be more true.

At this point, Toji sank his handsome face into his immense palm. 

“Well, now Naoya Zenin has everything he wants but is still an incompetent asshole. The whole enterprise is hanging by a thread. The entire clan cannot fucking stand him. What’s crazy is that his father Naobito is not doing anything about this, and I cannot tell if that is because the old man is giving his son free passes or because he has finally gotten senile. With Naoya's pettiness, though, the father-son duo have done everything to erase my name from the family, even going as far as to dismiss the executives that I brought onto the management team to undo my legacy.” 

When Toji glanced up to cast his gaze forward, you then suddenly understood that the three other men in the room were more than just his fellow board-licensed colleagues.

You recalled Toji’s words in the Teyvat meeting room.

‘I recruited these guys right when they completed their undergraduate degrees, around the time I just opened my therapy office,’ and the puzzle pieces clicked into place from the realization that sex therapy had not been the only thing that Toji had worked with them on—Sukuna, Choso, and Suguru had been executives at the Zenin Corporation reporting to Toji, too. ‘We’ve been working together since, for the past four years.’

Discerning these revelations from your expressions, Toji added in confirmation.

“I had selected these three to oversee the Zenin Corporation’s operations with me,” he said, and you remembered the same conversation in which the men discussed their University of Tokyo studies while Toji listed their previous roles. Sukuna, Economics. “Sukuna, Director of Investments and Real Estate.” Choso, Mechanical Engineering. “Choso, Chief Engineer and Supply Chain Manager.” Suguru, Biology. “Suguru, Healthcare and Innovation Administrator.”

Arguably the most consequential divisions in a conglomerate that spanned numerous sectors, with each department bringing in yen by the billions every year.

‘These guys have treated me like family more than my blood-related kin have.’

Learning this about the four therapists added to your fascination. 

For you, the discovery was like uncovering a hidden treasure trove. To imagine everything that the four—as one cohesive unit—had gone through together at the top of the corporate ladder: scrutiny from the media and stakeholders, impromptu meetings that demanded make-or-break decisions, and immediate responses to industry trends and regulations. 

Only for them to be cast aside by no one other than your husband.

In the end, this all made sense.

Now, you understood why the therapists were once incredibly demeaning and belligerent toward you. How could they possibly sympathize with the woman married to the man who had taken virtually everything from them? 

Heck, if you were in their shoes and had no further context, you would hate yourself, too.

Only now were you hearing their perspectives, and you were grateful that—compared to several weeks before—they trusted you enough to open up. 

At last, all you could do was sigh and mutter, “I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” 

Sukuna shot back without hesitation, which stunned you given how he had been the one who mocked you the most. Yet, a scintilla of kindness flared in his fiery eyes, so you continued with your tone softer and quieter.

“I feel terrible.” Such vulnerability in front of so many people at once went beyond your comfort zone. “For the unfairness Naoya had brought upon you all, and how I…I can’t change anything. I can’t do anything. All I am is…useless.”

“No, you are powerful,” Suguru interjected this time. “Your husband relies on your public image to keep scrutiny off him. He needs you. He’s been demoralizing you for months because he knows the ball will always be in your court, and never his.”

His words made you stop.

“You truly think so?” you asked.

“Yes.” 

Choso, who replied, seemed honest. 

He was honest. 

He might throw you off from how aloof and stoic his attractive face would appear, but Choso was not a liar.

Bringing your feet off the bed, you slowly swung your feet. 

“I…am surprised you all even want to talk to me.” 

Toji tugged at his dress shirt’s collar and flashed his ink-covered muscles underneath. “What makes you think that?” 

His pointed question made you realize how much Naoya had been fucking with your mind, blaming and villainizing you at every chance, thus devolving you into a spineless worm feeling remorse for every little thing.

Shrugging, you tossed your gaze to the side. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “You could have avenged yourself by now. I am Naoya’s wife and Naobito’s daughter-in-law. There had been a thousand chances for you to do something horrible to me: to hurt me, blackmail me, spread dirty rumors about me, but…you haven’t.”  

“Why would I do that?” Toji replied instantly and candidly. Rather than appearing offended by your judgments, he started giving you that look again whenever he had his therapist hat on—the one where he would tilt his head at a slight angle to gauge the sentiments painted across your face. “I could have chosen to be bitter and vengeful for the rest of my life, but I am grateful for what I have. Why let a toxic bunch impact my life? I already told you how that household is an absolute fucking hell. I'm glad I have found an out. At the very least, my son would not have to deal with the crap from my young adult years because you know who is the oldest male in the generation after mine?”

Megumi. 

All gazes now fell upon the younger Fushiguro, who tried to casually shrug the attention off. 

Who cares if I was second-in-line to leading perhaps the most prestigious family in Japan? his nonchalance wanted to convey, but his ears turned pink anyway.  

Toji continued, “Then, of course, there are some people whom I care about a lot.” Using his head, he gestured to the twins. “These girls are the best aunts to my son that I, as a father, could ever ask for. They’re only one year older than Megumi, but Mai and Maki used to go on playdates with him on the weekends, walk him to school every morning, and cook him breakfasts over the holidays. The twins even helped my son take his first steps. There is this one photo we have in the library—I don’t know if you have gotten a chance before to see it. But there’s Mai and Maki, each holding one of Megumi’s little hands back in his chubby toddler days and—” 

“Dad!” a very flustered and irritated teenage boy finally had to say. “This is not the time to talk about that picture!” 

Next to him, a proud Mai and Maki coo and tease their grouchy nephew, poking at his puffed-up cheeks and ruffling his uncombed hair. 

“Aw, is someone a little embarrassed?”

Smiling at the little banter from the trio, Toji did not let them distract him from his conversation with you. “What I’m trying to get at is…life’s too short not to enjoy the happy sides of it,” but his eyes glazed with rue nevertheless, “Now is the perfect time to focus on your well-being. Take a look around this room. A lot of people want to see you leading a fulfilling life, Y/N. A fulfilling life for yourself, not for anyone else. Not for me, not for anyone in this room, and certainly not for your husband. Nothing—and I mean absolutely nothing—should hold you back from pursuing your health and happiness.” 

While you assumed that your best times were over, Toji reminded you those good days can be brought back with the right attitude. He had a point. Why should you allow your marriage to hinder you from connecting with people whom you care about, working towards the passions that brought you purpose, and feeling the love that you deserve? 

Instead, you should seek every sunrise and sunset as an opportunity to live better and without regrets.

As you ruminated on this different mindset, a sudden knock from the door cut your thoughts short.

Who…

Like you, most others looked around blankly, but Toji ordered from his seat, “Let him in.”

Mai, who stood closest to the entryway, obeyed. 

Once she unlocked the door, the room fell silent save for the footsteps of the man walking in, his soles creating soft echoes on the linoleum floor. Overhead, pale lights revealed the lines etched on his exhausted face, the worry that sat heavily on his chest. 

“Mister Daisuke,” someone eventually acknowledged out of respect.

Your father did not hear the greeting as he searched the room, his sullen gaze darting from face to face until he found you. His shoulders fell from his overwhelming relief. Still in a suit after a long workday, he stumbled forward feebly. 

“You’re alright,” he whispered between steps, scarcely audible. 

He crouched toward the floor once he approached you, and when Suguru transferred your hands into your father’s, you noticed the unstoppable quiver from the latter even as you gripped him tightly in an attempt to stop the tremor. 

His skin was tough, weathered by his additional decades in life. But, in his palms, you found the familiar tenderness that had comforted you since you were a little girl and, in his gaze, you noticed the sadness only found in the despair of a heartbroken parent.

“Thank goodness, you are okay,” and before everyone, tears slipped past his eyes, “I was terrified. I was so scared. When Toji called to tell me you had thrown up and collapsed, do you know how afraid I was?” 

You glanced over at the said therapist, reminding yourself that—if Toji had been the CEO before Naoya—he must have worked very closely with your COO father up until recently. For your father to know exactly where you were and walk in with this expression suggested that the former colleagues had had a lengthy conversation about your circumstances. A part of you wanted to be angry. Why drag your father into this worry? But a larger part of you had always wanted to reveal to him the wretched months that had gone by and longed for his support. 

And now, he was here.

The older man took a shuddering breath and brought his fingers to your cheek, holding and cradling you like he would never get to do this again. 

“I can’t lose you,” he lamented. “I have lost enough in my life already. I cannot lose you, too. I just can’t. Why have you not told me the truth? If you were not happy with Naoya, why have you not told me sooner? Did you think I would place my loyalty to the company over my own child? I feel so guilty and broken to hear about what you have been going through.”

Frankly, you felt just as broken, too. 

In fact, seeing and hearing your father weep like this shattered you. As devoted as your father was, his front never failed to be unwavering and strong. Even when your mother’s death left a significant hole in his heart, he bit back his grief. Scars from your mother’s untimely death scarred his heart, wounds that never healed and would stay with him until his last breath, but he rarely expressed his suppressed sorrow. 

All for your sake. Because you were his one and only daughter, his one and only child. 

So now, for him to see you in such a sorry state was crushing his whole world that had become you.

“Dad.” You helped him wipe his tears away, just like how he had always done for you. “I didn’t want to make you disappointed. I didn’t want to make you sad. I…I just wanted to protect you.”

“No,” he responded firmly. How could a loving father accept the possibility that his daughter would even think about placing him before herself? “Protect yourself first.”

You looked up when you sensed two more approaching individuals and found Mai and Maki with doleful smiles.

“We still have something to return to you, Y/N.”

In your left palm, each girl pressed one ring—the first which promised a future forever and the second which symbolized an infinite unity. 

You stared at the jewelry as your chest remembered the waves of happiness, excitement, hope, confusion, betrayal, and pain. 

So, so much pain.

Your father, who would not miss the solemn undertones in your gaze, squeezed your hands in his. 

“My dear daughter,” he started, and you could tell he could no longer bear to see you suffer any longer, “what are you planning to do?”

Your throat turned dry.

Any possibility seemed like a viable solution, a means for a desperate escape. 

For months, you should have prepared yourself for this very question, but now that you were confronted with this reality for the first time, you did not know what to say. 

You had clutched onto the false hope for your troubled marriage to be sorted out. Escaping your dreary matrimony had once been too far-fetched of an option given an impending cold war between your families, which you would never wish upon the stars to happen. Therefore, even as you found yourself stuck on a stifling dead end, you did not exactly prepare for the next steps for the occasion you found Naoya Zenin’s mistreatment too much to bear.

However, times have changed.

Your allies and enemies have changed.

Most of all, you have changed.

Therefore, with all the universe’s possibilities at your fingertips, one particular option stuck out. 

“I’m going to file for a divorce.”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: So many things. To see us freak out at the idea of a divorce during the beginning of the fic, up to now, where we suggested the option out of our volution. Also, the much-needed heart-to-heart conversation between Toji and us, and how that really shows a slow maturation in our relationship with him (and everyone else)! Let me know what you think, and see you next chapter!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

[pinkkop]

This week's recap is brought to you by OG BL actors and pairings returning to our screens. We got Saint back this week and then the upcoming week we get Singto and Krist back together!! Happy and exciting days!!! 👏🎉

QL Recap for Week 20

The 12th of May to the 18th of May

🇹🇭 The Next Prince

Episode 3 of 14 || Watching on: iQiYi, Saturday

I really appreciate that you can already tell that there's something between Khanin and Charan. Like there's chemistry but it also feels like there is a clear mutual attraction. This just works really well because of course they can't act on it since there's also a bunch of other things between them such as Khanin's higher station and Charan's loyalty. This show is such a delicious meal!!

🇹🇭 Pit babe 2

Episode 3 of 13 || Watching on: iQiYi, Friday

Wait so the thing that's amplifying their powers is the research and testing they're doing in their own lab? Interesting! What I really appreciated about the first season was how they committed to the bit and this feels the same. Like I can't help but get invested in the plot because all the drama, mystery, characters and their relationships are just done so well.

🇹🇭 My Stubborn

Episode 5 of 12 || Watching on: iQiYi, Sunday

This is the best kinda crack for sure! And our four main actors work so well for this concept so I am seated every Sunday, ready for a new episode, on the dot. Sorn is so entirely delusional because what do you mean Jun isn't allowed to sleep with other people but Sorn seems to kinda still see Penny as a possible hook up. My bet is that he only really decided to go with her because she baited him and now he needs to prove to her, and maybe also himself, that Jun isn't special to him. Wouldn't be surprised if he tries to get down and dirty with her but then he simply can't go through with it because Jun is really special to him now and casual hook-ups just aren't doing it for him anymore.

🇹🇭 The Bangkok Boy

Episode 4 of 12 || Watching on: Gagaoolala, Saturday

I'm not one for trailers or reading too much up on the plot of shows unless I'm actively deciding whether I want to watch a show or not. This means that I have no idea where this show is going but I'm still so intrigued because the world within this show and it's characters are so rich and fascinating. Side-note, Mei better be safe and unharmed! This show is real dark at times so our resident psycho could have done all sorts of things to her which makes me worried.

🇹🇭 My Sweetheart Jom

Episode 1 of 12 || Watching on: Youtube, Friday

It's so good to see Saint back in a main role and after this first episode I'm also feeling excited about Poom being the other main character. Also, Granny was my absolute favorite this episode, though it's a little sad to see that Jom obviously isn't out to her. Anyways, this was a really good start to this series and I'm excited for the next episode!

🇹🇭 Knock Out

Episode 1 of 12 || Watching on: Gray, Friday

I do love a stoic character who's probably just a little socially stunted! The first episode laid a promising foundation for this show so I'm excited to see where it goes.

🇹🇭 Boys in Love

Episode 5 of 12 || Watching on: Youtube, Sunday

I would like to punt every single parent in this episode into the sun, thank you very much! The kids are still cute though even if I still feel this show is lacking in a lot of ways.

🇹🇭 Sweetheart Service

Episode 2 of 12 || Watching on: Youtube, Friday

I'm still really liking this concept but I'm finding it hard to really appreciate this show when it's airing at the same time as some shows with much higher budgets.

🇹🇭 My Golden Blood

Episode 10 of 12 || Watching on: Youtube, Wednesday

Very satisfied to see that I was almost word for word right about Khun Thara but sadly GMMTV skimped on the sound quality for this show which kinda puts a damper on any excitement, me being right about Khun Thara, might have created.

That's it for this week!!

For links and airing schedule check out World of BL (Only for BLs)

[warblogs17282]

The Helluva Boss view count table, post Season 2 finale!

It's been quite the ride keeping this updated for you all, although you all probably aren't going to see it again until season 3 starts, as I'm not sure if I want to post this table for every upcoming short. However, I will still be counting the view counts for each short in this table, even if I don't post about it.

Statistics and stuff:

IMDb Ratings overall: 8.1/10 with 13000+ people giving a rating on the site. All of these ratings are out of 10.

Pilot: 7.4

S1 E1: 7.7

S1 E2: 8.6

S1 E3: 7.5

S1 E4: 7.2

S1 E5: 8.2

S1 E6: 9.1

S1 E7: 8.8

S1 E8: 7.3

S2 E1: 8.5

S2 E2: 7.7

S2 E3: 7.8

S2 E4: 7.3

S2 E5: 6

S2 E6: 8.7

S2 E7: 8.7

S2 E8: 8.2

S2 E9: 8.7

S2 E10: 8.2

S2 E11: 9.1

S2 E12: 9

The day of the week each episode released and the time between each episode:

Just gonna link to this post by sadhornydemons, it shows both of these.

The average view count of Helluva Boss:

Season 1 only + pilot:

The average view count for season 1 + the pilot was 9,086,823 views.

Season 2 only (Shorts not included.):

The average view count for season 2 was 9,690,163 views.

Both seasons together + pilot (Shorts not included.):

The average view count for helluva boss combining both seasons and the pilot together into one calculation is 9,431,588 based on the data I have obtained.

(Quickly threw together an excel spreadsheet for this matter, if I've missed anything or fucked up a piece of data somewhere, please let me know. Also the =average function was used in the process of making this post, the shorts were not a part of the just season 2 average function.)

Rankings:

Top and bottom 3 episodes on IMDb as of 28/12/2024:

Top 3:

Truth Seekers - 9.1/10

Mastermind - 9.1/10 (Recent episode so subject to change.)

Sinsmas - 9/10 (Very recent episode so subject to change.)

Bottom 3:

Unhappy Campers 6/10

C.H.E.R.U.B - 7.2/10

Western Energy - 7.4/10

Episode view counts (Both seasons + pilot), highest to lowest:

1: S2 E1 - 13,126,955 views.

2: S1 E5 - 11,658,760 views.

3: S2 E7 - 10,855,337 views.

4: S2 E3 - 10,630,600 views.

5: S1 E3 - 10,450,616 views.

6: S1 E6 - 10,441,255 views.

7: S2 E12 - 10,380,617 views.

8: S2 E11 - 10,275,899 views.

9: S2 E9 - 9,772,762 views.

10: S2 E2 - 9,753,386 views.

11: S2 E6 - 9,429,540 views.

12: S2 E8 - 9,308,493 views.

13: S1 E2 - 9,230,983 views.

14: S1 E8 - 8,765,836 views.

15: S1 E7 - 8,684,320 views.

16: S2 E4 - 7,877,622 views.

17: Pilot - 7,845,385 views.

18: S2 E5 - 7,814,061 views.

19: S1 E4 - 7,455,897 views.

20: S1 E1 - 7,248,356 views.

21: S2 E10 - 7,056,678 views.

The top three performing episodes in season 1:

The Harvest Moon Festival with 11,658,760 views.

Spring Broken with 10,450,616 views.

Truth Seekers with 10,441,255 views.

The top three performing episodes in season 2:

The Circus with 13,126,955 views.

2. MAMMON’S MAGNIFICENT MUSICAL MID-SEASON SPECIAL (ft Fizzarolli) with 10,855,337 views.

3. Exes and Oohs with 10,630,600 views.

The top three performing episodes in both seasons:

In first place we have THE CIRCUS WITH 13,126,955 VIEWS! With the episode continuing to hold an iron grip on that top spot, will the first episode of season 3 be able to rival it? Place your bets now!

In second place, we have The Harvest Moon Festival featuring the debut of Striker! With it also holding a solid grip onto second place in the rankings.

In third place, we have MAMMON’S MAGNIFICENT MUSICAL MID-SEASON SPECIAL (ft Fizzarolli) coming in at 10,855,337 views! Featuring the debut of our idiot of a sin and a villain, Mammon! Also featuring bangers like Two Minutes Notice and more!

The bottom three performing episodes in both seasons:

Ghostfuckers with 7,056,678 views. Even this one caught me off guard, was expecting it to be a bit on the lower side due to the absence of other major fan-favorite characters like Stolas and Fizzarolli, but it being the worst performing episode still caught me by surprise tbh.

2. Murder Family with 7,248,356 views. Where everything started, the beginning of the show we know and love to this day.

3. C.H.E.R.U.B with 7,455,897 views. Yea I'm not really surprised that this one is here, most people think it's a rather weak episode or one of the worst of the show, so I can understand why it's the third worst performing in around it's first week.

Finally, the shorts:

MISSION: WEEABOO-BOO with 5,975,830 views.

Hell's Belles with 4,721,921 views.

MISSION: ANTARCTICA with 4,265,974 views.

4. MISSION: CHUPACABRAS with 4,038,466 views.

No average for the four shorts at the moment as I feel like there isn't enough of the shorts yet to make a fair average view count of them.

But hey, if you're reading this part, you're cool as fuck, and I hope you have a great day!

[lyrashifts]

─ 𝓘NTRODUCING MY ⋆ MARAUDERS DR.

𝓢. this dr is set in the 70s, and begins during my first year at hogwarts. it strays quite far from the actual events of the marauders era, and instead merges with the plot of the lighting era. in this dr, me and my friends work against prejudices and an upcoming war, as well as a very dangerous voldemort on the rise.

𝒜BOUT ME

 ◞    name : lyra a. lavigne

 ◞    nationality : english-french

 ◞    birthplace : cambridge, england

 ◞    languages : english, french

 ◞    blood status : pureblood

 ◞    house : gryffindor

 ◞    moodboard

𝒫ERSONALITY

 ◞    likes : writing, playing the guitar, drawing, reading, theater, cookies, poetry, magical creatures and animals, going on long walks, baking, being better dressed than everyone else, jumpers, rainy days, shopping (especially for music and clothes), hozier, queen, david bowie, the smiths, little women, lemon iced tea, stealing james's invisibility cloak, pranking (and actually getting away with it)

 ◞    known for : converse, cherry red, loving 90s muggle movies, being best friends with remus, reading at social events when bored, drinking too much coffee, having cool hair, my style, quoting dead poets society daily, leather jackets, liking hozier and the smiths way too much, being an amazing gift giver, having a new hairstyle every day, being nice to everyone unless they cross me, smelling like cinnamon, coffee, and books, being amazing at school and magic, somehow getting every lead role in plays, wearing jumpers and leather jackets in the dead of summer and not somehow overheating to the point of death

ℬACKSTORY

 ◞    backstory : i grew up in england where a lot of my family was but by the time i turned 13 we moved to scotland, partially to attend hogwarts and partially because my parents wanted to get away from some of our pureblood family members. my parents, though from a notable pureblood family, don't agree with the views of pureblood culture. because my parents' reputation for their last name still upheld, when we moved we were invited to an event that ended up just being a pureblood society ball. we only stayed out of politeness, but it was there that i met sirius and promised to be best friends with him when we got to hogwarts since we both hated the party.

𝒲ARDROBE

 ◞    description : my style in this dr can change a lot, especially taking into consideration the weather or location i'm in. in terms of colors, i wear a lot of neutrals but tend to have a specific color pop (which oftentimes a cherry red). during winter and autumn months, i am often wearing oversized jumpers (whether mine or stolen from remus). i also almost always wear flared or baggy pants. some of my iconic pieces include leather jackets, doc martens, band tees, baker boy hats, plaid skirts, and more. during the summer i tend to wear baby tees and babydoll tops, along with skirts. with my uniform, i pair many accessories to make it look as appealing as possible, and use magic to have different nails every day.

ℒIFE AT HOGWARTS

 ◞    general : students start first year at 14, so it is a sort of hybrid between highschool and university, where students have much more freedom once 18. school uniforms are only required during classes from monday - thursday, and on friday you may wear your desired outfit underneath your robes.

 ◞    dorms : students are allocated private dorms that have within them a bed, a desk, a private bathroom, and more. once a student is assigned to a dorm, the dorm changes to accommodate that student's taste. once you are given your dorm number, you must choose a password and it is your responsibility to ensure students you do not want to come in cannot. in the case that a student knows your password and you do not want them to, you can ask a professor to change it and they will do so. alohomora will not unlock dorm rooms. dorms are organized by house, but boy's and girl's dorms are not separated - everything is instead organized by house and name.

 ◞    extra-curriculars : the clubs i am part of include music club (which later inspires me and my friends to make a band), theater club, art club, care of magical creatures club, and in later years, the quidditch team

 ◞    houses : the animosity between houses (especially slytherin and gryffindor) is not nearly as prevalent as depicted in the books. it is known that not all students in one house are the same, and so, while some friendly competition is encouraged, it is not uncommon to have friends from every house. students of every house are allowed into the common rooms and dorms (with permission of at least one person from that house).

 ◞    events : all the events featured in this post are included in this dr

𝒜BOUT THIS DR

 ◞    worldbuilding : not a lot changes about the war except for the fact that it's toned down and ends during my seventh year (which we redo since it would be similar to the last year in the harry potter books - looking for horcruxes without actually being at hogwarts). of course, none of my friends die. i haven't accounted for how the war will end exactly, so i suppose i'll let that work itself out organically.

 ◞    main friends : remus lupin, sirius black, james potter, lily evans, regulus black, marlene mckinnon, mary macdonald.

 ◞    relationships : i am a formal part of both the marauders and the valkyries. i became friends with the marauders at the start of the school year, and we were consequently established as a friend group before me and the girls. i tend to spend more time with the marauders but our groups often mingle since everyone gets along (except maybe lily and james at the beginning). i also have some friends in slytherin, such as andromeda and regulus, but i tend to stay away from the anti-muggleborn students.

[yenonnoff]

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE!

atsumu miya x fem!reader

⌒☆ synopsis : when y/n l/n, a rising actress, decides to star in a romance film that could make or break her career, she’s unable to showcase her skills, revealing her inexperience within the romance department instead. worst of all, atsumu miya, her co-star and the main lead’s love interest, seems to hate her guts! with absolutely, unbearably zero chemistry between the two, an idea was proposed: spend time with one another in the upcoming weeks. will y/n be able to ignore her professionalism and listen to her heart? and will she, a clueless romantic, be able to pick up on the signs her co-star is sending her?

⌒☆ content: actors/celebrity au, social media au, modern au, enemies (got off on the wrong foot) to friends to lovers, slow burn (sorry 😞), mild angst, fluff, crack/humor

⌒☆ warnings: she/her pronouns used, contains a lot swearing, mentions alcohol/alcohol consumption,

⌒☆ status: on hiatus; started (07/18/23)

🎬 chapter names may change as the story progresses + unless stated differently, ignore all timestamps

🎬🎧 — playlist

STARRING:

｡ｏ♡ HOT dummies // mentally sane + atsumu ig? ｡ｏ♡

( minor chars! )

LIGHTS:

01. vengeance (like batman)

02. vroom vroom! im here (୨୧)

03. wtf is love

04. sweet dreams (or not)

05. hi, mr. charismatic

06. give me a break (୨୧)

07. morning madness

08. you ruined my coffee with your scowl (୨୧)

09. emergency conference meeting!

10. strangers (?) at an amusement park (୨୧)

11. perhaps a malfunction?

12. a mistake, 100% a mistake

13. your words

14. message sent, message received

15. tolerate! tolerate! tolerate!

16. me, you, and a beautiful sunset (୨୧)

CAMERA:

17. snap out of it!

18. brewing up a storm

19. do not disturb

20. conversation over coffee

21. cat chase (୨୧)

22. 2 people, 1 truth (୨୧)

23. the act of kissing (୨୧)

24. plans & precautions

25. fame is not for the weak (୨୧)

26. a pro’s guide to scandals

27. stranger danger!

28. what comes after heartbreak? (୨୧)

ACTION:

29. mission failed (unsurprisingly)

30. 10 things i hate about you

31. i hate unrequited love tropes

32. beachside lesson on romance

33. seashells and slackers

34. to the miya’s (୨୧)

35. wait a minute, you what?!

36. mondays are for bad luck

37. anything for you (୨୧)

38. clown circus clown

39. love is when two hearts beat the same (୨୧)

ENDING CREDITS:

40. to new beginnings

41. i want to call you mine (୨୧)

42. choices with lovely outcomes (୨୧)

43. gross! lovebirds!

44. co-star to your main event

EXTRAS:

45. a lovely tryst

46. clueless romantic, but i love you

a/n: hi!! this is my first ever smau + my first time posting on tumblr so pls be patient if smth looks off (and if smth does, pls kindly inform me!!). i want to thank @idlerin for inspiring me to make this, so many thanks to syl!! u should check out her smaus and other works, theyre all amazing!! asides from that, i want to give the fattest biggest thanks to my best friend may (@kqbukimono) for putting up w/ my spontaneous questions and for giving the best advice ever (ure the best ig 😜). she also helped me choose the title! ok im being too nice, he might make fun of me. thank u so much to everyone who is planning on reading my smau!

taglist is open! dm or ask to be a part of it!

[hivemuthur]

What was that? - Ch. 8.

viktorxfemale!OFC mature! (for now, I will mark later chapters as explicit when the time comes

friends to lovers, co-workers, sexual tension up to the wazoo, pinning and banter that got me frustrated when I was writing it, attempt at humour, some angst and a slow burn with a happy ending and a classic Viktor for once

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12. | Ch.13. | Ch.14. | Ch.15.

word count: 4,6K

tag: #what was that

summary: More banter and slight angst! Jayce speaks French, and we are about to even out with AO3 which means I will post chapter 10 in two days :)

author’s note: Beta reader: @rennethen

Cross-posted on AO3

—

A week had passed since their trip to the Undercity, though the memory of their near-moment lingered like a stubborn ember refusing to die out. Viktor had kept his distance, returning to his meticulous work, while Renly buried herself in testing the formula. She really wanted to make it before the gala on upcoming weekend. The tension between them was not sharp or angry but... unresolved. Words left unsaid.

Now, as she stood at the threshold of his workspace, cradling the first viable test sample in her hands, that tension seemed to knot her throat. She tapped softly on the metal frame of the door, and Viktor turned, his golden eyes catching hers.

“Viktor,” she began, her voice betraying her nerves, “I—um—I wanted to show you something.”

He set aside the intricate mechanism he’d been tinkering with and gave her his full attention. “What is it?”

Renly crossed the room slowly, holding the small vial out like an offering. “The cure… or at least, the first viable iteration of it. It’s ready for testing.”

Viktor’s gaze dropped to the vial in her hands. His expression, as always, was difficult to read, but there was a flicker of something—curiosity, maybe even hope. She couldn’t be sure.

“I thought,” Renly continued hesitantly, “that you might—well, you might want to try it. But only if you’re comfortable. I don’t want you to feel like…” She trailed off, suddenly aware of how heavy the moment felt. “Like I’m treating you as some sort of… experiment.”

Viktor took the vial from her with gentle hands, his fingers brushing against hers for a fraction of a second. “You would never,” he said softly, his voice carrying a certainty that made her stomach flip. He studied the vial, the pale, faintly glowing liquid catching the light.

Renly twisted her hands nervously. “I just... I know how much you’ve already risked, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m—”

“Renly,” he interrupted, looking up at her. His eyes, earnest and steady, caught hers and held them. “You are not asking anything I would not willingly give.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The words he’d just said hung between them, weighted with layers of meaning that neither dared unpack.

“You trust me that much?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Viktor’s lips curved into a faint smile, one corner of his mouth lifting slightly higher than the other. “More than you realize.”

Her chest tightened at the sincerity in his voice. She wanted to respond, to say something meaningful, but her thoughts tangled together. Instead, she nodded, and handed him a small parchment with dosage instructions, her own tentative smile matching his.

Viktor glanced back at the vial, his expression turning contemplative. “If this works,” he murmured, half to himself, “you will have done something remarkable—not just for me, but for all of Zaun. I hope you see that.”

His words sank in, and for the first time, she felt the enormity of what she was trying to accomplish—the weight of all those counting on her, including Viktor himself.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she said, attempting a lightness she didn’t quite feel. “It’s only the first trial.”

“Even so,” Viktor replied, his gaze lifting back to hers, “it is a step forward. And for that, I am grateful.”

With that, Viktor pocketed the vial, his movements deliberate, his expression unreadable once more. The moment stretched on before he turned back to his desk. “I will let you know how it goes.”

Renly hesitated for a moment longer, wanting to say something—anything—that might ease the invisible wall that had risen between them since that night in the Undercity. But in the end, she simply nodded and slipped out of the room, her heart heavy with things left unsaid.

***

The grand day had finally arrived. Viktor and Jayce were rehearsing their presentations for the fundraising gala. They knew their work inside and out—every discovery with Hextech had been thoroughly tested and meticulously documented. The primary focus of their practice speeches, however, was to ensure that Piltover's wealthy elite would view their innovations as they did: a beacon of life-changing progress, meant to be harnessed for peaceful purposes.

“She’s late,” Jayce muttered, glancing at the clock. “Renly’s never late. What if she bailed on us?”

Viktor didn’t look up from his notes. “She would not do that. Perhaps she is simply… taking her time.”

Jayce opened his mouth to argue, but the creak of the lab door froze him mid-step. Both men turned toward the sound.

Renly stepped inside, and for a moment, time seemed to pause. Her heels clicked softly against the tiled floor, their sharp rhythm underscoring the quiet hum of the lab’s machines. But it wasn’t just her entrance that demanded attention—it was everything else.

Gone was the practicality of her work attire, the reliable fabrics stained by chemicals and the scuffs from long hours. In their place was a dress—blood red, sleek, and elegant, a daring statement of confidence and boldness that seemed to make the very air around her shimmer. It hugged her frame tastefully, the neckline hinting at daring but never straying into excess. A delicate silver chain rested against her collarbone, the simple accessory accentuating her sharp features. Her hair was swept back, leaving her face unobscured, framed by the glow of polished poise.

“Sorry I’m late,” Renly said, her voice casual as she set her bag down. “Had to find something that wasn’t covered in stains.”

Viktor stared. His brain, so capable in the realm of logic and science, utterly failed him now. Words tangled in his throat like frayed wires, and after a pause that seemed eternal, he finally managed to stammer, “You look… astonishing.”

The word lingered, weightier than intended. Jayce stopped pacing, eyebrows lifting in shock, his head snapping toward Viktor as if to confirm he’d heard correctly. Viktor stiffened almost immediately, his grip tightening on the cane as he realized what he’d said aloud. He cleared his throat, looking away in a feeble attempt to recover.

Renly, however, didn’t miss a beat. Amusement flickered in her eyes as a slow smile curved her lips. She tilted her head, her tone playful but warm as she responded, “Thank you, Viktor.” A slight pause, and then, with the faintest edge of mischief, “I could say the same about you, but I’m not sure ‘astonishing’ is the right word for a man who insists on wearing a cravat to every occasion.”

Jayce burst into laughter, loud and sudden, while Viktor shot him a withering sidelong glare. His discomfort deepened as Renly took a step closer, her grin widening.

“But it suits you,” she added, her voice softening but still teasing. Her eyes locked on his, glimmering with an energy he didn’t quite know how to place. “Distinguished, refined… and maybe just a little bit pretentious.”

Jayce leaned against the counter, practically doubled over from laughing. Viktor’s composure frayed further, his ears burning crimson at the edges. “I am glad my wardrobe provides such endless entertainment,” he muttered, his voice dry but noticeably tight.

Renly chuckled, the sound light and unbothered. “Alright, boys, let’s get these speeches sorted. I didn’t put on this dress just to make fun of Viktor.” Her gaze lingered on him for half a second longer than necessary before she added, with a smirk, “Though that is a very nice bonus.”

Jayce continued to snicker, but Viktor barely noticed. He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to focus on the notes in his hand even as his thoughts refused to follow suit. Renly moved toward the blackboard, her heels clicking against the floor like punctuation marks, commanding attention with every step.

For a fleeting moment, Viktor allowed himself to watch her, unguarded, unrestrained. His equilibrium, so carefully maintained in all other matters, was noticeably absent. But despite the flustered edges of his thoughts, one truth remained clear: whatever chaos Renly brought, he didn’t mind.

“I have to be honest with you guys—I am scared shitless,” Renly said, turning on her heel. She spoke more to the room than to her friends.

“What…? Why?” Jayce snorted at her blunt statement. “You’ve got this. Besides, Renly, you’re the only one of us who has fresh presentation practice. You teach students all the time!”

“I know, I know,” she said with a sigh, running a hand through her hair. “But with the students, I know I’m talking to people who at least try to understand what I’m explaining.” She paused, her tone carrying a hint of exasperation. “Here, we’re presenting to people who might not have the slightest clue about the science—and on top of that, we have to… balance it,” she mused, pacing back and forth in front of the blackboard.

Viktor’s lips curled into a smirk as he watched her pace, her earlier worry still etched on her face. He decided to step in—not just to own his earlier compliment, but also to draw her focus away from her nerves. “I doubt the poor boy Ezra would survive if you showed up to teach class in this dress,” he remarked, his tone light but teasing.

Renly blinked, caught off guard for a moment before her wit kicked in. “And here I was, thinking it was you who’d be his doom if he ever came near me again.”

Viktor tilted his head slightly, his smile widening as though conceding the point. “I think if you simply be yourself tonight, no one will dare to refuse you funding—or misplace your work—for fear of being eviscerated by your words,” he said, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes.

Jayce glanced at the clock and clapped his hands together. “Alright, folks, time to go! Vite, vite!”

Renly grabbed her coat and, as they headed out the door, leaned in just close enough to whisper to Viktor, “By the way, I actually think you look very nice tonight too.”

***

She was right—it was absolutely terrifying. Bright lights, the constant hum of voices and laughter, the clinking of cutlery, the swell of music, and the shuffle of footsteps all blended into one overwhelming cacophony, crashing over Renly’s senses in unrelenting waves. Strangers brushed past her, their hands grazing her bare shoulders or the small of her back as they squeezed through the crowded room. The invasion of personal space only heightened her unease.

This was nothing like her classes. Her students were quiet and predictable in comparison—tame, even. But this… this was—

“You look pale.”

Viktor’s low voice cut through the din, and she felt his presence behind her before she saw him. He leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear, carrying the faint, teasing scent of champagne. The unexpected intimacy of it made her shiver.

“Are you alright?”

“Totally,” she lied, her fingers fidgeting in front of her in a telltale gesture of discomfort.

“I know that ‘totally.’ It is no good,” Viktor said softly, concern shadowing his expression. Gently, he turned her to face him, his hand brushing against hers. “What do you need?”

“Quiet. And, um… a drink, maybe?” Renly raised an eyebrow, half-joking, as if gauging whether Viktor would judge her for indulging in a little liquid courage before the important presentation. “If you don’t think it would be… improper.”

Viktor didn’t hesitate. “Come.” He offered his hand, his tone gentle yet firm.

Renly took it without thinking, letting herself be guided toward the balcony. As they passed a waiter, Viktor paused and gestured toward the tray of champagne flutes. “Will you manage two? My hands are a little… busy,” he said, his smile playful as he raised their intertwined palms toward the view. Of course, the cane. She forgot briefly.

The crisp air of the evening was like a balm, soothing her stressed body with its cool touch. As they stepped out onto the balcony, the noise of the gala dimmed, and Renly found herself breathing more easily, the weight of the chaos inside melting away. She leaned against the railing, letting the quiet settle around her like a protective shield.

Viktor, ever observant, stood beside her for a moment, watching her with a soft intensity. “I know that feeling,” he said quietly. “The world getting too loud, the weight of the eyes on you. If you need some grounding, or maybe just a pep talk before you face the stage…” He trailed off, waiting for her response.

Renly glanced at him, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the tension still coiling in her stomach. “What do you have in mind?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity mingling with her unease.

Viktor moved closer, propping his cane carefully against the railing. He turned to face her fully, and for a moment, all the noise of the event seemed to fade into the background. His hands landed gently on her shoulders, steadying her. His touch was firm but not controlling, a reminder of his quiet strength, and when his eyes met hers, she saw something rare there—genuine care, but also something deeper.

“You go up on that stage,” Viktor said, his voice low and steady, the words almost like a command. “It’s quiet, there is only you. All those people, they should be scared of you, not you of them. What you are capable of. How wise you are. How strong.”

Renly’s breath caught in her throat as she absorbed his words. His gaze held her, unwavering, as though he were willing her to believe in her own power. She felt the words sink deep, quieting the storm of nerves that had been brewing inside her.

“And now,” he continued, his voice softer but still firm, ��drink.”

Renly’s fingers tightened around the champagne flute, her eyes lingering on his face as the brief moment stretched out between them. The warmth of his presence, his steadying touch, and the sheer simplicity of his confidence seemed to wash over her. She took a deep breath, the knot in her chest loosening as she sipped from her glass, the cool liquid running smoothly down her throat.

In that moment, on the balcony under the dim light of the stars, it felt as though the world had narrowed down to just the two of them. The gala, the people, the expectations—everything faded away, leaving only Viktor and his quiet strength. There was no pressure, no judgment, just a calm understanding between them.

Renly let herself relax, letting Viktor’s presence anchor her. She wasn’t alone in this. She had her work. She had her mind. And, in a way she hadn’t fully realized until now, she had Viktor. She gave him a small, grateful smile, the tension in her shoulders melting further as she felt his steady gaze on her.

“Alright,” she murmured, setting the glass down. “I’m ready.”

Viktor’s lips twitched into a smile, though it was subtle. He gave her shoulders a final squeeze, his hands slipping away. “You’ve always been ready.”

***

Renly’s heart still fluttered as the echoes of applause faded away, the weight of the speech finally lifting from her shoulders. The donors had been impressed, their pledges securing two years of funding for her research—a small victory in the grander scheme, but one that felt monumental to her. She spotted Viktor in the crowd as she finished, his gaze steady and approving, but when the applause died down and the crowd shifted, he was nowhere to be found. She felt an odd pang of disappointment, but quickly shook it off, knowing he’d likely retreated to avoid the attention she was receiving.

She was about to step off the stage when Jayce appeared, grinning broadly. “Renly! You did it! I told you, you’d kill it up there.” His voice was warm with pride, and he clapped her on the back before pulling her into a tight hug. Renly laughed, a little breathless.

“You weren’t wrong,” she admitted. “Though I’m sure you just wanted me to do well for the sake of your own ego. You did help me practice a lot.”

“Of course, it was for you,” Jayce teased, “but mostly because now I can say I knew you when you became a star.” His grin grew wider as Mel Medarda approached with her usual effortless elegance.

Renly’s eyes lit up when she saw her. “Mel, you look absolutely beautiful as usual.” The words slipped out naturally, and there was an affectionate tone in her voice. The inside joke between them—how Mel Medarda, despite whatever else might happen, was always beautiful—never grew old.

Mel gave her a teasing glance. “Thank you, Renly,” she said, “though you’re not too bad yourself.” She shot a sideways glance at Jayce, who was still laughing at Renly’s comment. “It’s good to see you so relaxed. You seemed like a completely different person up there. Confident. Powerful.”

“I don’t think I could’ve done it without Viktor,” Renly replied, before realizing how much that might imply. She quickly added, “You know, his advice. He’s always been the calm in the chaos. You’ve probably noticed.”

Mel raised an eyebrow, but before she could comment, a few other guests approached, eager to congratulate Renly. She graciously accepted their compliments on her work, her mind drifting slightly as more drinks were brought her way. The weight of the evening started to feel more like a pleasant haze as the alcohol began to take effect, loosening her up a little. She could feel herself getting a little warmer, the buzz of the evening mixing with the buzz from the champagne.

When the conversation began to dwindle and the crowd dispersed, Renly found herself slipping back out onto the balcony, craving the quiet again. The cool air welcomed her, and she leaned against the railing, taking a long breath to steady herself. It was then that she heard Viktor’s soft footsteps approaching behind her.

“Thought I might find you here,” he said quietly, standing beside her. He had a glass in his hand, but it seemed he’d had much less to drink than she had. Still, the slight edge of warmth in her words betrayed the effect the alcohol was having on her.

“I’m glad you came,” Renly said, her words a little more slurred than she intended. “I thought you disappeared on me.”

“I’m never far, Renly,” Viktor replied, his voice steady, though his gaze softened as he studied her. “How are you feeling? Your speech was brilliant. I have no idea how you can be so brilliant, but I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me.”

Renly smiled, though her cheeks flushed slightly from the compliment. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she murmured, her voice dipping into something more sincere. She turned toward him slightly, her words flowing faster than she meant. “You’ve always been the one who steadies me. The one who helps me see things clearly, even when the world’s too loud. I—I wouldn’t be here without your guidance. Your strength. It’s—”

Her words faltered, and she suddenly caught herself. She was bordering on saying too much, on revealing something she wasn’t ready to say. The vulnerability felt too raw. She blinked, clearing her throat, trying to regain some composure.

“Dance with me?” she said suddenly, her voice less steady now but still filled with something unspoken.

Viktor blinked, caught off guard by her request. “I... I don’t dance,” his voice quiet as he fixed his eyes on the floor, shifting uncomfortably.

“I don’t know what else to call what you’ve been doing around me those last couple of months,” she blurted out before she could stop, earning herself a concerned smile from him.

Viktor’s breath hitched, the weight of her words settling on him, both unexpected and revealing. He had hoped his attention to her, the fleeting moments between them, had gone unnoticed. But here she was, calling it out, putting words to the tension that had been building between them. He quickly glanced away, feeling the heat of her gaze lingering, but he couldn’t shake the unease that crept in. He didn't know how to navigate this space they were now in.

“I could offer my assistance in walking you home. It was a long evening,” Viktor said, his voice taking on a more neutral tone as he ignored her comment, though the sting of it lingered. She had noticed. All of those brief, charged exchanges between them.

But now—now she seemed to be asking for something more. And that, more than anything, left him unsure.

Renly saw the hesitation in his eyes, and she felt a familiar knot form in her stomach. She had never been good at reading the signs, but she couldn’t ignore the way Viktor had looked at her, the way he’d touched her, the quiet moments that seemed to speak volumes. It all seemed to point to something, didn’t it? Yet here he was, avoiding it.

“I didn’t mean to...” she trailed off, suddenly unsure of herself. “I’m not asking for anything. I just thought... Maybe I misread things.” Her voice softened, the alcohol having loosened her tongue and her thoughts. “But if that’s not what you want, it’s okay. I’m just...” She paused, biting her lip as she tried to steady herself.

Viktor let the silence hang between them for a moment, his hand resting gently at her waist. He could feel the weight of her uncertainty, but it mirrored his own. He had become used to playing the steady, composed part of the equation, but tonight, that seemed harder than ever. He wanted to reassure her, to say something that would ease the tension, but his mind was clouded, and he didn’t quite know what to say.

Instead, he took a step closer, his hand slightly tightening around her waist. “You’ve had quite the night, Renly,” he said quietly. “I can see it in your eyes. But if you need to talk about any of this… I will listen.”

Renly met his gaze, her eyes soft and searching, but it was clear she was still a little lost in her own thoughts. She sighed and, without thinking, rested her forehead against his chest. She felt a small sense of comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her.

“I don’t know how to be around you anymore, Viktor,” she murmured, her voice almost too soft to hear. “But maybe I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel it. Whatever this is between us.”

Viktor’s throat tightened as he looked down at her, his own feelings echoing hers. He had always been a master of keeping his emotions in check, but there was something about Renly that disarmed him. Something about her presence, the way she made him feel both grounded and entirely lost at the same time.

His greatest fear still stood unshaken, though: the fear of anyone, of her, seeing how incomplete he was, how damaged. He did feel slightly better since he started taking her formula, but it was too early to tell. Still, this would only solve one of his problems. Admittedly, that problem was imminent death, but the liability of his spine, of his leg, would remain with him forever. He never allowed anyone to stay with him on this journey for longer than a flicker of time—fleeting affairs, singular events, neither forgotten nor remembered in much detail. He feared dependency. His entire body feared her and screamed for her at the same time.

“I’m not pretending,” he whispered, his voice low, the words coming more easily now that they were alone in the quiet of the night. He paused, as if searching for the right words. “But sometimes it’s easier to stay silent than to risk... changing things.”

Renly pulled back just slightly, lifting her head to meet his eyes, and in that moment, she saw the vulnerability in his gaze, the uncertainty that had always been there but that he kept hidden so well.

“I don’t want to change things,” she said quietly, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I just want to know if you feel it too.”

The question hung between them, and for the first time that evening, Viktor didn’t have the answer ready. The words came from the part of him that was strongest—the one that was protecting him from himself. “I don’t have an answer, Renly. But I think… maybe we should get back to this when we are both… rested.” He really wanted to avoid using the word ‘drunk.’ He felt her face wrinkle on his chest as she turned away, trying to hide her expression.

“Yes, that’s fair. I’ll get home by myself just fine,” Renly threw over her shoulder, her voice straining.

“Are you—” Before Viktor could finish his question, she cut him off. “Please. I’ll see you on Monday.”

[cyborg-squid]

A Kazdelian Rescue and Furnace-side Fables aren't out on Global yet, so I don't know quite how it continues and ends, but there's something really fascinating about how the actions of Dublinn and the Military Commission, Nezzsalem specifically, parallel each other.

Before getting into the themes, it's first just spectacular, the visuals of it and of a lot of the fighting around Silverrock Bluffs, between Dublinn and the Nachrezer you have like these two 'Evil' (visually, if (debatably) not morally) armies squaring off against each other, you've got super flame necromancy and shadow operatives versus floating sword wielding regenerating mummies commanded by the King on his Deadwood Throne, and then zoom the camera back some, across the entire Victorian front, you've got artillery bombardments and tank brigades squaring off against things like mobile witchcraft altars and death devouring immortal 'devils', while in the sky above, a massive reanimated flying dead-whale-skeleton performs boarding actions against a state of the art but-also-ghost-controlled combat airship. Chapter 14 very much makes the point that 'war is hell' (understatement) but. god. if it doesn't look cool as hell too.

But anyway! The Duke of Wellington! and Nezzsalem! Both rather equally meeting their match in each other, both quite literally described as feeding off of death, the end of Chapter 13 describing the Iron Duke as already having an Ursus Tsar, Herkunftshorn 'the Witch King', and Fantasy Napoleon in his 'belly'. And meanwhile you have Nezzsalem literally feeding off death, powering his soldiers, powering his witchcraft, healing his wounds, as he also has raised and tutored some of the strongest warriors Kazdel has ever known, the likes of Patriot, Theresa, and Theresis. Wellington vs Nezzsalem, very much a match made in Hell.

But Nezzsalem actually ends up being a little off base in his assessment of Wellington, thinking that he desires war for war's own sake. "The Victorians zealously chase after the phantom of victory while never understanding why we crave war in the first place." Because while Wellington is very much into that, war and conflict itself, Eblana herself sees the fire burning in his eyes, Wellington does also know when to pull back, which is also what Nezzsalem does at the end. Wellington lets the other ducal forces go into the meat grinder, then points his guns at the other Dukes as he unfurls the banner of Tara. They have to listen to him, and the upcoming nation of Tara, now.

Which is also what Nezzsalem says at the end. "From death comes new life" (fitting with him and the Nachrezer's tree and plant theming). Like Wellington and Dublinn, this war will also serve to bring new life to the Sarkaz and Kazdel. It very much did not end in a decisive Sarkaz victory or the like, but the long oppressed and scorned Sarkaz managed to bloody the nose of one of Terra's most powerful empires, and return home, not with their tails between their legs, but in a tactical retreat, and now in possession of hypothetical Weapons of Mass Destruction. The military victory that Theresis has wrought (while Theresa delivers a 'spiritual' victory for the Sarkaz over 'fate') is to ensure that there will never again be an omni-nation crusade against the Sarkaz race, never again will Kazdel fall, because now all nations will have witnessed the power of a unified Kazdel, and no nation should be willing to take that risk of going up against the Sarkaz again, with what Kazdel is now capable of. This is why Nezzsalem also says that, at the end, that he is 'sated' (paralleling the belly and hunger speak also used about Wellington), this war against Victoria had a purpose, and that purpose has been seemingly achieved, both in the strengthening of the Sarkaz's geopolitical position and in Theresa's victory over 'fate' and the release of the myriad souls.

You can very much see here that both Wellington+Tara, and Theresis+Kazdel, are practicing very similar forms of gunboat diplomacy, leveraging their partial military successes in order to exert power over the other nations of Terra and strengthen their long-oppressed yet budding nations.

This ties in with something really interesting that Hoederer said in Chapter 13, that this Londinium Crisis can't end simply end with Theresis' death, as W plainly wants, because that would just show to the world something along the lines of: "Sarkaz rabble banded together to attack Victoria but killed their own leader and fell to internal conflict, as the Sarkaz always do", and this weakness would invite retribution not only against the nation-city of Kazdel, but against Sarkaz populations across the globe. As much as Hoederer, and even W, want this war to end, it can't end on those terms, and it actually needs to end in a Sarkaz victory in order for Kazdel to survive; even Manfred, high ranking Military Commission man that he is, views the Lifebone project he (basically) helmed as a tool for the Sarkaz to return home, rather than merely a weapon of war.

(I haven't fully parsed out what exactly is going on now between Reed and Eblana, but I can't help but think it might be something similar, that neither could (even if they wanted to) dispose of the other because in doing so, it would invite other powers to weaken or fully discredit the Taran cause as a whole, if their just seen as another rebel force fighting among themselves.)

Anyway, Theresis might be one of the most talented military minds of our generation.

[legendary-69420]

Loving Mark 2

Chapter 8 : Part 2

(Racing Hearts : VOLUME 3 )

racing hearts

10. His Voice and Multilingual Charm

Mark was a polyglot, switching effortlessly between English, Italian, Spanish, French, Portuguese and what not depending on who he was talking to. It was mesmerizing—and utterly unfair, in Charles’s opinion.

During a team debrief, Mark asked a question in Italian, clarified a point in French, made many remarks in Portuguese and then cracked a joke in Spanish that had half the room laughing. Charles, despite himself, couldn’t help but feel a mix of pride and jealousy.

Later, fans posted clips of Mark from the press conference: “Hearing Mark switch languages mid-sentence? Literal eargasm. How is this man real?”

11. His Singing Voice

After a long day, the drivers gathered in the paddock lounge. Someone handed Mark a guitar, and before anyone could protest, he began to sing.

His voice was rich, deep, and soothing, a melody that filled the room with warmth. Everyone stopped what they were doing to listen, mesmerized.

Charles leaned against the wall, pretending to be unaffected, but the way Mark’s voice resonated made his chest tighten. It wasn’t just beautiful; it was intimate, as if Mark’s soul was spilling out with every note.

12. Comforting Presence

When a junior mechanic accidentally spilled coffee on a laptop, panic ensued. The poor guy looked ready to cry, muttering apologies and blaming himself.

Mark stepped in without hesitation, placing a reassuring hand on the mechanic’s shoulder. “It’s okay, mate. These things happen. Let’s focus on fixing it instead of stressing about it, yeah?”

The calmness in Mark’s voice worked like magic, and within minutes, the situation was under control.

Charles, watching from a distance, marveled at how effortlessly Mark diffused tension.

13. Taking the Blame for Others

During the qualifying session, a miscommunication between Mark and his engineer led to a botched lap. When asked about it afterward, Mark took full responsibility.

“That was on me,” he said in an interview, even though Charles knew it wasn’t.

Later, Charles confronted him. “You know it wasn’t your fault.”

Mark shrugged, his expression calm. “No point in pointing fingers. We’re a team.”

It was such a simple, selfless thing to say, and yet it made Charles’s chest ache.

14. Being a Good Listener

At dinner, Charles found himself venting about the upcoming race weekend. He hadn’t meant to, but something about Mark’s quiet attention made it easy to open up.

Mark didn’t interrupt or offer unnecessary advice. He just nodded, his gaze steady and understanding.

“Thanks,” Charles muttered afterward, feeling oddly lighter.

Mark grinned. “Anytime, Sharlie.”

15. Adorable Obliviousness

Mark had a habit of being charmingly clueless, especially when it came to himself.

During an interview, a reporter asked, “How does it feel to be the paddock heartthrob?”

Mark blinked, genuinely confused. “Me? Heartthrob? No way. You’ve got the wrong guy. Ask others”

Fans online were quick to disagree: “Mark Spencer is the human equivalent of sunshine, and he doesn’t even know it.”

Charles, listening nearby, rolled his eyes. How could anyone be this oblivious?

16. Knows Everyone, Everywhere

At a sponsor event, Mark moved through the crowd with ease, greeting everyone like an old friend. Celebrities, executives, fans—he treated them all the same, with genuine warmth and interest.

“How do you even know these people?” Charles asked, half in awe, half exasperated.

Mark shrugged. “You meet a lot of people when you’re open to it.”

17. The Way He Looks at People

Mark had this habit of looking at people like they were the most important person in the world. His gaze was intense but warm, as if he truly saw them.

It was maddening for Charles, who caught himself longing for that attention more often than he cared to admit.

Fans had taken note too, posting screenshots online: “Pretty sure half the grid is in love with Mark, and who can blame them? The way he looks at people is lethal.”

18. His Smile

By the end of the day, Charles found himself trailing behind Mark as they walked through the paddock. Mark turned back to say something, his face lighting up with a smile so radiant it seemed to brighten the entire paddock.

Charles felt his breath catch.

Damn it.

As the day went on, Charles couldn't help but observe Mark more closely. Each moment brought new reasons to admire and, if he were being honest with himself, envy the effortless way Mark moved through life, making everyone around him feel special. Charles had always known Mark was special in his own way, but today, he realized just how deep that specialness went. And, with it, a growing discomfort brewed in his chest.

(Dividers by @cafekitsune & @omi-resources <3)

[fortisfilia]

Promised Part 13 - Tom Riddle x reader

Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)

Summary: In this story, Tom didn't grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader's sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 3k

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 12 | Part 14

Part 13 - Pranks and proper Paybacks

The quill in your hand scratched lightly over the parchment as you were taking notes for Astronomy in the library. It was quiet, as usual, except for the occasional questions and thereof resulting explanations between Ben and Camille. She helped him study for his upcoming Herbology exam, for which he clearly hadn’t revised enough yet. Silly boy.

Tom was there too and sat next to you, completing the quartet round the table. He tried his best not to hiss at them every time Ben asked something. You noticed from the corner of your eye, how he gulped down every thought that built up in his head when another word poured from Ben’s mouth. It was amusing seeing Tom battling with himself to keep his cool. He still didn’t like Ben very much and would much rather study with you alone. But the fact that he had voluntarily sat down with the three of you, tried to behave and didn’t yell at Ben whenever he opened his mouth, was a sign that he probably didn’t hate him as much as he pretended to.

“So, about the Fluxweed again,” Ben whispered, browsing through his book. “How many days does it have to grow?”

Camille was about to answer when Tom pressed his palm against his forehead and exhaled dramatically. “Sixteen, Ben. It’s sixteen. She’s told you that three times at least.”

Ben took a quick look at Tom, while still fumbling through the book. “I know, mate. I just can’t memorise it. Why do I even need to know that?”

Tom flung a piece of parchment toward him, pointing at the empty sheet. “Write it down, then. There are some things you must know. Get over it.”

“Alright, alright,” Ben grinned, apparently not caring about Tom’s tone at all. “I’ll write it down, see? Fluxweed takes thirteen days to grow. Happy now?”

“Sixteen,” Camille, Tom and you sighed in unison.

“Oh.” He crossed out the number and sloppily wrote the correct one above it. “Sixteen then.”

Camille and you chuckled to yourselves while Tom only shook his head slightly, his eyes back inside his own book. Ben certainly was careless, or to be more precise, a lot more careless than Camille, Tom and you when it came to grades. The way he talked about homework and even exams was astonishing. He hadn’t even studied for his O.W.L. in Care for Magical Creatures in his fifth year, and he still got an ‘Exceeds Expectations’. Or so he had told you. He'd always found a way to talk his way out of things, unsurprisingly. Teachers really seemed to like him. Or rather do anything to stop him from talking once in a while. 

“Oh, wait,” Ben said again.

“Just read your book,” Tom grunted.

“No, hang on.”

Ben stood up and stretched his arm out quickly, reaching and grasping for something to your left. You all turned your heads and saw him catching something that had been flying right at you.

“I might be bad at Herbology. But you’re lucky I’m a bloody good Seeker,” he said and twisted the thin thing between his fingers.

“What is it?” Camille asked. “Let me see.”

Ben put the thing down on the desk, still pressing his index finger on top of it. “It’s a quill. I think it’s jinxed. It was flying on its own and headed right for your face,” he said and looked at you. “Still wants to, I can feel it moving.”

The grey quill twitched eagerly beneath Ben’s hand, trying to escape and pointed its sharp tip right at you, ready to pierce into your skin. 

“Not again,” you mumbled.

“Again?” 

Things, odd things, had been happening during the week. Someone had played some pranks and antics on you. You hadn’t found out who it was yet, but it certainly had become pesky. On Monday, someone had left you a note that said Professor Merrythought wanted a word with you. Once you had arrived at the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, however, you were met with a confused teacher and had a hard time explaining yourself. Tuesday, someone had poured Rash Powder over your dinner. You had almost taken a bite but thankfully had noticed the unfamiliar smell in time. Wednesday was more subtle. There had been puddles and slippery spots everywhere you stepped. Avoiding them had been a tedious task. And now, on Thursday, this. The quill didn’t look like it could badly injure you, but its vivid nature was a sign for a hex, rather than a jinx. No matter who it was, all those things did tear on your nerves. Not only because the pranks got to you, but because there was a possibility someone had been following you without you noticing. Every time you had gone to the Come and Go Room you had turned around and checked if someone was behind you, just in case. That was the exhausting part.

“Just some pranks,” you explained. “I don’t know who or why, but it’s getting fairly ridiculous.”

“Could someone”-Ben puffed-“stop this thing? It’s trying to escape.”

Tom pointed his wand directly at the quill and rolled his wrist. It lit up for a fraction of a second and crumbled to dust right after.

“Ouch,” Ben yelped and fanned his hand through the air hastily before putting his index inside his mouth. “Thanks, mate.”

Tom smirked, partly for the spell he had just cast and partly for burning Ben’s fingertip. “Anytime, mate.”

Camille dragged her finger through the ashes, took a good look at them and rubbed it off between her index and her thumb. “Who would do that?”

“I don’t know,” you answered.

“Avery and Lestrange again, perhaps?”

“Unlikely,” Tom said. “I checked on them some days ago. They’re still with Carpe most of the time, scrubbing the floors and polishing trophies. And besides, they wouldn’t dare.”

“Who else could it be then?” Camille asked as she blew the remaining ashes off the desk with a quick cleaning spell.

The four of you exchanged looks around the table. “To be honest,” Tom began. “I was suspecting you for a while, Ben.”

“Me?” Ben asked wide-eyed. “Why would I do that? I just stopped that quill.”

“‘I’m aware, I’ve seen that now.”

Camille hummed, deep in thought. “Wait,” she said. “What about Freda? Freda Morris.”

“The head girl?” Ben asked.

“Yes,” she said. “She was so jealous at Slughorn’s party, wasn’t she?”

Tom looked at you, biting on the inside of his lower lip, then nodded. “That doesn’t sound too far-fetched.”

“I wouldn’t have thought she’d be so creative,” you said while picking up your books. “Well, I’ll keep an eye on her then.”

Once you had gathered your things, you got up and waited for Tom to do the same.

“Where are you going?” Camille asked. “It’s not even seven yet.”

“I have to,” you stopped yourself. You had to tend to the potion in the Come and Go Room again. Needless to say, you couldn’t tell them that. “I have to go and look after Nagini. The snake. She’s shedding at the moment. Talk to you soon.”

“Let us know if something else happens,” Camille said and waved you goodbye. 

Tom followed you silently. Of course, they didn’t ask him why he had to come and check on Nagini as well. The perks of being intimidating. Apart from this, Camille and Ben surely didn’t mind studying without him nagging all the time.

On your way out, right when you left the library and headed toward the grand staircase, Tom and you were halted by another student. Platinum blonde and blue-eyed, Abraxas Malfoy, who was one of Tom’s ever so devious sycophants, locked eyes with him. 

“Tom,” he greeted and stopped right in his tracks.

“Abraxas,” Tom replied.

Oh, what did he want now? There wasn’t a lot of time until the potion had to be stirred, so hopefully Malfoy wouldn’t keep you from going any longer.

“So,” Abraxas began. “I’ve seen, you like to keep new company these days.”

Tom frowned and looked over his shoulder. Clearly, Abraxas didn’t mean you. “What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything,” he said and chortled a sour laugh. “I’m just observing. You’re dealing with mudbloods now?”

He was talking about Ben. Malfoy and Tom’s other ‘friends’ had probably seen you in the library together. Or in the Three Broomsticks, some weeks ago. Abraxas must have felt really brave to talk to the head boy in this way. His chest was swollen with pride and the glint in his gaze spoke more than he could have ever said. He was out to get something from this conversation.

Tom only exhaled sharply and stared back at Malfoy, unconcerned about his reproach. “And how come that’s any of your business, exactly?”

“Oh, it isn’t of course,” Abraxas answered. “I was just surprised. Shocked even.”

“I do apologize,” Tom sneered, clicking his tongue in fake sympathy. “That the gathering of other people, who don’t concern you in the slightest, has ruined your precious day.”

Abraxas stared back at him, obviously trying hard to keep calm. His smile still sat neatly on his face; it was his eyes that betrayed him. “No need to worry about me. I merely started thinking, daydreaming, that your Grandfather might not appreciate that.”

Tom took a step closer, his nostrils flared for a moment and a vein on his neck stood out. “Abraxas,” he whispered so spitefully, it almost sounded like he was talking in Parseltongue, words spilling out of him like pure venom. “I’d advise you to worry about your own life. Because if you don’t, wouldn’t it be tragic if your Mother found out what happened last year at your house? When the maid left and never came back? What was the reason again? If only I remembered. Oh, I do.”

Malfoy’s expression changed momentarily, his head sunk and his eyes darted across the floor, trying hard to think of what to answer.

“Do we understand each other?” Tom asked.

Abraxas nodded, lips thin and full of fury. He instinctively retracted and took a step back, keeping his head low and looked up at Tom through knitted brows.

“Good,” Tom said and left Malfoy standing there. 

Continuing to walk to the grand staircase, he appeared like nothing but a casual chat between two friends had just happened. 

“Well,” you said after Abraxas was out of earshot. “That was interesting.”

“They’re all so stupid, sometimes I wonder how they’ve lived this long,” Tom replied. “I have dirt on every single one of them. And they try to blackmail me. Ridiculous.”

“Idiots indeed,” you shook your head. “Do I want to know what happened to the maid?”

“You don’t. It’s a long, repulsive story.”

No doubt it was. Abraxas was known for his dreadful ways and how he had tormented younger students ever since. He wasn’t like Avery or Lestrange, a dumb follower, who had Hippogriff crap for brains. No, he was mindful, awfully aware of his surroundings and constantly seemed to brood about his next step. He reminded you of Marvolo, they both had the same aura, cold and demeaning, always looking for ways to take advantage of other people’s misery. It was no surprise that he had tried to intimidate Tom, maybe even pass him in their hierarchy by threatening to tell everyone about his association with a muggle-born. But he hadn’t thought it through. Tom Riddle wasn’t one to mess with and he had just made that crystal clear. Ben might have not been his friend, but still, he hadn’t let Abraxas speak ill of him.

“I wouldn’t have thought you liked Ben,” you said once you turned another corner.

Tom opened his mouth and looked at you in disbelief for a moment, as if you had just insulted him, before he started talking. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, it just seemed like it. You came to his defence so quickly. That’s why I assumed.”

“This wasn’t about Hilt. It was about me, Marvolo and that bootlicker Malfoy.”

“Whatever you say,” you grinned while Tom rolled his eyes.

Friday evolved to be the worst day of the week. Not only had you almost gotten detention for falling victim to a Knockback jinx during Defence Against the Dark Arts if Camille hadn’t come to your rescue. Professor Merrythought still hadn’t forgotten about your visit on Monday and thought you were trying to disturb her lesson again. But in addition, your curriculum almost hindered you from tending to your potion completely. It had become nearly impossible to handle everything at once. Your classes, homework, studying for the N.E.W.T.s, taking care of the antidote and on top of all that, those stupid pranks. It had been draining and your body ached for a bit of rest. 

On your way to Tom’s dorm, when the sun had already set and you were finally done with everything for the day, you heard the clink of a door handle turning behind you. It almost had gone overheard, the only thing you wanted to do was sit down for a moment and unwind, even if only for an hour. You had already reached the door to Tom’s room and could have just entered to forget about the world for a while. But there was this unsettling feeling inside of you and Camille’s words from the library ran through your head again. You turned around. And thank Merlin you did.

Freda Morris stood in her door frame, smirking with her wand pointed right at you. She must have been taken by surprise, it didn’t seem like she had expected you to look at her. Her wand sank in an instant before she hid it behind her back.

“You,” you muttered, taking some steps her way. “It was you all week, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, mocking you with a smile.

“Just admit it at least. Coward. You know exactly what I’m talking about and you were just trying to do it again, weren’t you?”

Freda shook her head and put a strand of hair behind her ear with her skinny fingers. “I’m head girl, dear. I would never do anything to harm another student if that is what you’re implying. I don’t know what could have given you the idea.”

“Oh shut up,” you spat. “Head girl, yes. An awful excuse for one at best.”

The door behind you opened and Tom appeared from inside. He looked out into the hallway frowning. “What’s all that noise about?”

“Your fiancée’s throwing a fit.”

“Camille was right,” you said, still not taking your eyes off Freda. “It was her. The note, the quill and everything else. I just caught her right in the act.”

Freda heaved one single, shrill laugh at your words and straightened her posture. “I just told you, I would never do such things.”

“What were you doing then? Pointing your wand at me, when I have my back turned on you.”

She pondered, taken aback, while she looked at Tom beside you until her grin appeared back on her face. “You’re imagining things. I was just leaving my room to go and talk to Professor Dippet. That’s when you started to yell at me for no reason.”

“Liar!”

She didn’t lower herself to even look at you anymore. Instead, she looked at Tom. “Is this really what you look for in a woman? Hysterical and hostile? I would have thought you had better taste.”

The need to go up to her and slap her across the face seemed almost unbearable. Your hands were balled into fists and it took all your might not to take out your wand and pay her back everything she had done to you, times ten. Tom on the other hand stayed calm and smiled weakly while looking back at her.

“Don’t worry about my taste, Freda,” he said. “I’d rather worry about your memory. Maybe you haven’t been informed, which would be very unfortunate seeing that you are head girl, but Professor Dippet isn’t in Hogwarts today. He’s been called in by the Wizengamot. How could you have been on your way to him then?”

Freda’s smile faltered, her eyes darting back and forth between Tom and you. “I must have not gotten his owl then.”

“Certainly,” Tom said. “I want a word. Now.”

“No,” you intervened and he stopped his movements to look at you. “I can do this myself.”

Tom stepped back with a small smirk on his face. Freda was in for a treat. You walked up to her until there was only a hand’s breadth of space between your faces.

“Listen now,” you said, your heart pumping strongly inside your chest. “I don’t know what you were thinking. If you were thinking. But I swear, if you ever play another of your pranks on me again, I-”

“You what?” she asked and shoved you by the shoulder. “Do you think I’m scared of you?”

The moment she had touched you, you felt something moving by your feet. Nagini had slithered out through Tom’s open door and hissed louder than you had ever heard before. Freda gasped and took several steps backwards, startled by the snake. Nagini placed herself between the two of you and reared up, looking as huge and aggressive as ever. Her hisses were meant for one person only and when you looked back at Tom, you recognised that he wasn’t talking to the snake. She had come to your defence on her own.

“Take that thing away,” Freda yelled. “Make it stop.”

“Or what?” you asked. “You might have not been scared of me yet, but I promise you, give me one more reason and you will be.”

She didn’t dare answer, still looking down at Nagini in utmost panic and trying to foresee every move the snake was about to make. You savoured on the sight for a moment, fervently enjoying how Freda fumbled for the doorknob behind herself.

“Come Nagini,” you then said as you turned around. “Leave her alone. For now.”

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 14

Tags: @ariachaos @daardyrnitta