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btsmosphere · 26 days

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Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 5: Scared of a Little Lightning

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: With the threat of Bolt rising, so do tensions within the base.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 6.3k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, supervillains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, and also with fists, they fight in this one okay, swearing, hella tension and anger issues, arguing, angry Namjoon (yes that is a warning). it's just a tense chapter😅

a/n: oH I am EXCITED for this chapter!!! It's a juicy one if I say so myself😌I am begging you to come chat with me about it, things are heating up!! Be it an ask, comments, tags, hearing from you guys about this series is an absolute joy so far and it's making me giddy posting each week wondering what you guys will think👀thank you so much, that's a great feeling! I hope you enjoy reading the chapter as much as I did writing it!💜

Whatever Jungkook thought of you staying, you couldn’t care less.

While he glared, you ignored him and instead enjoyed the new additions to your routine. In fact, though you wouldn’t admit it, it gave you a bit of pleasure to know he was gritting his teeth as you continued as part of their lives.

However, he still had his chance to make your life a misery. He had taken to actively antagonising you rather than straight-up ignoring you as he had previously in training.

That was what it felt like, at least, when he was yelling “faster!” into your ear as you fired bolts as rapidly as you could muster. It was never good enough for him.

It only got worse when he took to flinging the targets around your training space with a well-aimed jet of gold. That kind of precision and strength was something you could barely hope to achieve with your powers. Even trying to hit the targets in the air was beyond you, let alone being able to actually throw one, as Jungkook did with such ease.

Though in some ways it was refreshing to have a different training routine, in most other respects it was anything but.

Anyone else could be forgiven for thinking he was simply trying to push you now that you were in line to join their team, but you knew better. The smirks that occupied his face when you failed gave it away. You tried desperately not to give him that satisfaction, but eventually you always lost out to exhaustion, leaving him triumphant.

On the contrary, physical training which you now had to take part in, was welcome relief.

Usually Hoseok was the one training with you, which you were ecstatic about. Of course, he was mainly needed to show you the ropes in the beginning, and once you understood how to use all the gym equipment, you could more or less do it yourself. But he was in there anyway a lot of the time, and you were more than happy with the way he would chat away as you worked out side by side. It felt nice to spend time with someone who actually wanted you there – who would help, or play stupid games with you, or drag you into doing pairs exercises that would never go right, normally ending with you in a hysterical tangle on the floor.

His powers being what they were, however, it was a little discouraging sometimes. You would be red-faced and ready to give up while he still had enough breath in him to gush enthusiastically about the latest band that took his interest, all while doing pull-ups.

But then Yoongi would appear (out of nowhere, as always) and grumble along with you, making fun of his ‘over-active’ brother while Hope laughed loudly.

Spending even more time in the training areas made you feel like this place was really alive. It was completely different to anywhere you had lived before, solely because you weren’t alone.

Jin had taken you directly to your old place the day after you had accepted Namjoon’s offer. It had hardly crossed your mind, so you were surprised to see it as you had left it. Apparently Kuyang had been covering the rent for you.

It must not have been much of a strain for him, you thought, standing in the doorway of your place and thinking of his laboratory in a skyscraper. The two hole-in-the-wall rooms that made up your apartment were a far cry from anywhere in the centre of town. You were almost embarrassed for Jin to follow you in there, but then he was pushing past to drop several empty boxes on the worn carpet and apologising that your new room wouldn’t be so big.

“That’s hardly the same thing,” you snorted, taking the first box through to your bedroom, “have you seen your kitchen?”

Looking over to your sorry excuse for a kitchen, Jin couldn’t argue. He half-grimaced.

“Who really needs an oven in this day and age anyway?” he tried.

Rolling your eyes with a snort, you pulled open your wardrobe and set to packing.

Halfway through, several indistinguishable shouts bled through the ceiling. What startled you was that you almost didn’t notice it, used to it as you had been.

Jin had stopped, and stared at you in alarm, but you just chuckled and told him that was how it was, living on top of other families.

In the end, you didn’t use all of the boxes. You looked around, just in case, for something you would never miss. It hadn’t taken much to empty the place of all trace of you, though you left the fridge well alone, not daring to discover the state of what you had left.

You dropped your keys on the table and left the silence behind.

Back home, there was always sound, activity. During your water breaks or after training, you would see the others training too. It felt like you were all in it together. Even with the knowledge that you could barely compare to the skill the boys had with their respective powers, you reminded yourself that they wanted you on the team.

Well, most of them did.

But you would keep working and improving. You would get there.

Jimin finally returned to training again too, after a few days where he hardly left V’s side. Seeing his boyfriend so hurt had certainly brought out Jimin’s protective side, even more than normal. It was honestly quite endearing – that was until you had passed Jimin in the training room, hurling his weights through the air with such ferocity you were surprised it didn’t dent the walls.

Hurrying past, you had decided to leave him to it. After so long being strong for his boyfriend, he certainly needed that.

The pink glow of his eyes shouldn’t be such an intimidating sight, but you knew you didn’t want to get in the way of him.

With Jimin downstairs, you found V in the living room. He had been steadily recovering, quicker than someone without powers would have done, but still you knew he had been instructed to take it easy.

A quick shower later, you were less out of breath, but still weary from a day of hard work.

Next time you returned, V was in the kitchen. You couldn’t see what he was doing, but you didn’t want him to be up for too long. Ignoring your desire to sink into the nearest chair, you walked over.

“Need help with anything?”

V didn’t look around at you, but shook his head as he reached up to a cupboard.

Not wanting to push, you slid into a chair at the counter. You were unable to resist resting your head on one hand, but you fought to keep your eyes open so you could check on V.

Somewhere along the way, you failed at your intention. A new set of footsteps entering the space disturbed you as you had been dozing lightly, but the moment you caught yourself, your eyes were flying open.

With your tired state, you couldn’t even bring yourself to shoot a glare at Jungkook, who was walking up to the counter. You only gathered the energy to avoid his eyes entirely.

Jungkook appeared to have the same idea, walking past without acknowledging you. But as he drew level with V, the older boy turned away and crossed to the counter where you sat.

Lifting your head from your hand, you blinked as V walked right up to you. The next moment, he was pushing a steaming mug of tea right under your nose.

Opening your mouth, your tired brain couldn’t formulate words, but conjured a similar image from when you had made him tea the first time you spoke. You still regretted accidentally setting him off then, unintentionally letting your powers go.

Perhaps you were forgiven?

“Thank you,” you spoke quietly, meeting V’s eyes. You couldn’t decipher his expression, but he was watching you, and smiled lightly when you replied.

As he turned and walked back over to the sofa, your eyes landed on Jungkook, who still stood across from you. For a long moment, he held your gaze with a poker face. Then his eyes fell to the mug cradled between your hands, a frown darting across his expression.

Swallowing, you waited for whatever venomous comment he had prepared for you, to warn you away from V. Even after you had helped treat V’s wound, Jungkook had been opposed to you being near his injured brother.

He turned away without a word.

A crash echoed through the empty rooms.

Staring as the sparks jittered across the surface of the battered target, you dropped your arms to your sides. The training area was deserted aside from you, and you waited until you could no longer hear the crash faintly ricocheting from the walls.

Eyes still trained on the target, you panted, chest heaving.

Though you were training alone today, you could practically hear Jungkook telling you not to give in. Who knew all those insults would become motivational?

Whether it was motivation or the fear of falling behind, it succeeded.

Exhausted as you were from your training, you decided to make the most of your unsupervised session and try one more thing. Locking your trembling arm straight ahead, you took a breath and let your powers fill you up until that familiar blue burst from your palms.

But instead of aiming short bursts at the various different targets positioned around the space, you gritted your teeth and held it, lightning spilling in a continuous blue bolt towards the central target.

You had no idea how to do this, but it had always impressed you when Jungkook could lift things with his powers. All you had been taught to do was shoot. Still, you took a breath when you felt confident that your power was flowing strongly, focussing on the metal disc.

The way the sparks ensnared the target gave you assurance as you slowly raised your arm.

You felt a resistance you had never felt before as the electricity lifted, tugging at the target. It felt that you were connected to it somehow.

Tensing, you focussed intently, loading more power into the bolts already shooting through the air. Maintaining the motion of your arm, you gaped as you saw the circular metal raise along with the blue power dragging it.

You had done it! You were lifting it, it was moving-

Like a switch had been flipped, the flow of power cut off, the bright blue that dominated the space fading. The moment your powers retreated, you found yourself gasping, a wave of fatigue near enough sweeping you away.

Your knees hit the floor as the same time as the target. Wincing at the harsh metal clattering loudly on the floor, you screwed your eyes shut for a moment. Your chest continued to heave, and you noticed the sheen of sweat that had broken onto your forehead.

But once your breathing steadied again, you laughed.

The next moment, you let out a loud whoop, flopping flat onto the floor.

You had managed something new! Laughter continued to shake you as you caught your breath on the floor. Jungkook didn’t have to teach you everything – it seemed you could manage to strive forwards by yourself, even if you weren’t good enough in his eyes.

It took you a while to get up. Not even the thought of Jungkook’s nagging could have motivated you to do another iota of training.

About all you could manage was to drag yourself upstairs for food, but the smile never left your face.

Lunch was a simple sandwich. Already thinking forward to your session in the gym this afternoon, you couldn’t be bothered to make anything more demanding.

You still made two plates, however, leaving the other out for whenever V was hungry. Today the others had gone out, but with him still healing, he couldn’t go with them like normal.

You had heard Jin scolding him to make him stay, though; it seemed he felt well enough already to want to go out again.

This time, you didn’t particularly mind their absence. There was no sense of secrecy, no need to for you to turn on the news while you wondered what they were up to. As the soon-to-be newest addition to the team, you had been present to hear all the details.

Of course, given the way things went last time they returned from a job, there was an undeniable edge of nerves.

But it was an easy mission. That was what they had said, and what you kept reminding yourself.

They were concerned that Bolt had been showing interest in a lab on the western edge of the city, and wanted to protect it. Yoongi and Hope had been watching it for a while Jin and Namjoon did some digging around Bolt, and whatever his intentions may be. The latter seemed to have found frustratingly little, but didn’t let the mystery of Bolt stop them from acting.

The whole group was focussed on keeping the lab safe. Since the developer was one of their allies, they had all the details they needed to be one step ahead if Bolt should attack, which they highly expected.

Although you had kept your mouth shut at the meeting, not wanting to cause problems by irritating Jungkook when the team needed him, you had enjoyed the experience. For once, you didn’t feel particularly out of your depth. Having been Kuyang’s secretary for a while, you were well used to looking at plans such as the one of this lab, which you had pretty much memorised. The fighting and the powers, you were still working on. But at least you could understand the logistical side of their job.

After lunch, you lounged in the empty living space for perhaps a little too long. But with no one around to judge you, you let your tired limbs rest for a bit.

When you eventually made it off the sofa, you passed V in the hall. You noticed the small black receiver clutched in his hand; the boys had decided that keeping him in the loop while they were out on the mission would ease his nerves a bit.

“Any news?” you asked him, nodding at it.

V turned his dark eyes on you, then glanced at the receiver before he sighed.

He shook his head.

You had to admit you shared his disappointment, but you forced a smile to your face nonetheless.

“Well, no news is good news, right?”

Your smile seemed to be for nothing, as his eyes never lifted high enough to look at your face. Instead he gave a noncommittal shrug.

“I, uh, made you a sandwich,” you told him, “make sure to eat, and don’t worry too much, yeah?”

Walking down to the training rooms again, you felt the sadly familiar desire to do more creeping in. You never would have thought that after gaining the ability to shoot lightning, you could ever feel so powerless.

Nothing would happen to them.

You had seen their plan, it was so detailed.

There was no way Bolt would be able to outsmart them.

As you started training, these thoughts revolved around your mind in time with your steps on the treadmill. By the time you were using the machines, gritting your teeth as you pushed the weights with all your might, you weren’t sure if your mantras were helping.

They would come back…

Reaching the peak of a sit-up, you let out a groan.

There were six of them out there, Bolt was outnumbered…

Were you certain? Or were you repeating these thoughts just to convince yourself?

Finishing your set, you slumped back to the floor and stared up at the plain ceiling. This space was tucked in the corner of the gym, and you felt sheltered by the machines that blocked you from view, even though you were alone.

Breathing deeply, you brought a hand up to massage your brow. As you tried to ease the pressure, you closed your eyes.

In the darkness behind your eyelids, a light seemed to bloom. Blue, all too familiar, dancing over a face you had seen just once in the flesh but would never forget. A bright flash had your eyes flying open again, heart hammering as it expected the drop from who knows how many floors up-

Your heavy breathing fell alone in the silence.

Swallowing back the memories of Bolt, you tried to push back the fear that was curling tighter around your stomach at the thought of your friends out there with him.

You had just pushed yourself gently to sit when a sharp clang sounded, along with a muffled yell, making your head whip around to its source.

One positive thing was that you didn’t have to worry about the boys being out any more. But there were new concerns on your mind as you saw Jungkook storming into the gym. A muscle in his jaw popped as he ripped his jacket off forcefully, casting it to the floor as he stalked to one of the machines.

You watched him with wide eyes, stunned by his entrance. He hadn’t seen you yet.

His whole body seemed fraught with tension as he stood, back facing you, eyeing a machine. Fists clenched at his side, his shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breathing.

Just when you thought he was going to stand still all day, he aimed a harsh kick at the base of the machine, another clang ringing through the space.

That startled you into action, springing to your feet. While you walked between machines back to the centre of the room, he had grasped the bars and started pushing them, grunting as the weights lifted and fell, clashing against the others.

Stopping a few paces away, you stayed silent for a moment. The frustration emanating from him, the intimidating muscles revealed by his vest, all made you wary of him.

Pulling yourself together, you took a breath. Why should you let him scare you?

“Jungkook.”

He froze. His arms were together in front of him, the machine’s weights hovering as he held them there.

With a huff of air, he dropped his head between his shoulders. Slowly, he turned his head towards you slightly.

“What happened?” you asked, refusing to be deterred by his challenging sideye, “is everyone okay?”

Biting at the inside of his cheek, he turned his glare away from you, aiming it instead at the floor. When he spoke, his voice was low and deadly, restrained as if he would burst if he didn’t control his tone.

“We fucking lost half the place.”

“But everyone’s back? Then it’s okay-”

Metal clanging loudly together made you jolt, unable to help yourself from taking a step back when Jungkook let the weights drop and strode across the space between you.

“We should have had the upper hand! We did everything we planned, but Bolt still…” his nostrils flared as he took a breath, “we had to blow half of it up, just so he wouldn’t get to it.”

Sighing heavily, he turned away from you, shoving a hand through his hair.

Frowning slightly, you watched the frustrated man. Of course you were glad everyone was safe, but the fact they had lost the lab felt like a blow, even to you.

“How…?” you spoke quietly, but it only seemed to rile him up.

Whirling back to face you, his eyes blazed.

“He’s too strong. We let him get too far already. If you think you’re gonna help us at all out there, you’re wrong.” He stepped slowly towards you as he spat his words, “we can’t do enough against him, you’ll only slow us down.”

He stopped, glaring down at you now you were practically nose to nose. Your own anger bubbled within you – why did he bring you into this? His lashing out at you was uncalled for.

“I’m joining you guys because Namjoon wants my help,” you shot back, “or do you not trust him? I’ll be ready, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, eyes narrowing, poisonous stare intensifying, but you refused to back away. Scowling, his mouth opened to retort-

“Hey! Y/N?”

Jungkook’s mouth snapped closed, the same moment you turned your back on him to find Jin and Yoongi standing in the doorway.

Stepping into the gym, Jin looked past you to Jungkook, fixing him with a stare.

“Time to back off, Kook.”

At first, you were pleased to have someone else see how irrational Jungkook was acting towards you. But then Jin turned to you.

“I think you ought to go upstairs.”

Giving you a tight smile, Jin moved past you towards Jungkook, leaving you stunned.

“Just let him cool off.”

Slightly jumpy, you looked around to find Yoongi right beside you. Raising an eyebrow, he waited for you to come away.

Sighing, but biting your tongue, you set off. Yoongi fell into step beside you as you left. With one last look back, you saw Jin leaning against the machine where Jungkook had now resumed his rage workout, talking too low for you to hear.

As you emerged into the main training space, Hope was just coming from the stairs. His pace was rapid, but slowed when he saw you, seeming to deflate.

“Everything alright?” he jogged up to you and took a place on your other side.

“I just don’t get what his problem is,” you confessed, irritation bleeding into your words. “He turns everything on me somehow.”

The boys either side of you shared a glance.

“He’s just frustrated, but he’ll come around. This thing with Bolt is a bit more serious than we anticipated,” Yoongi explained.

Taking a moment to process his words, you swallowed back the continuing anger you felt towards Jungkook. You knew why he was upset, it just didn’t make it any easier to take.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you cursed, shaking your head, “is everyone okay? I wasn’t even thinking about all that after Jungkook…”

“Yeah,” Hoseok nodded, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “We’ll figure it out. Just because today didn’t go so well, doesn’t mean we can’t win next time.”

“But how was your training?” Yoongi moved on, “I’m surprised you made it to the gym without Hobi to bully you-”

“Hey!” Hobi exclaimed, “Y/N’s a great student. She’s working hard. You’ll be able to join us soon at this rate.”

He directed this last at you, nudging you with his elbow. But his bright smile no longer struck the same confidence in you. Instead, you felt Jungkook’s words take root inside you.

“I just hope I can be useful…” you muttered.

“You have nothing to worry about.”

It may well have been the first time Hoseok didn’t manage to alleviate you worries, even slightly. When you got upstairs, it was to find Namjoon had disappeared to his office already, Jimin clearly faking a smile for V and near silence as Jin and Jungkook remained downstairs.

Even Hobi, trying to bring your mind away from Jungkook, had a downtrodden slope to his shoulders.

That night, you did nothing but contribute to the despondent quiet in the house.

These men had so much more experience than you did, and yet they were unable to save the lab from Bolt’s clutches. How were you going to help them?

But you knew one thing for sure: you had to.

It was with renewed determination that you headed down to train the next morning.

You arrived a little before Jungkook, depositing a towel and water bottle by the wall as he entered behind you.

“Still here?” he asked dryly, crossing the space to lean against the wall.

Straightening up, you rolled your eyes.

“What does it look like?”

“Looks like you’re naïve enough to think you’re going to be any help.”

Gritting your teeth at his retort, you restrained yourself from insulting him in return.

“Let’s just start training, shall we?” you bit out.

Clearly some of your attitude had bled through, however, because Jungkook pushed off the wall and marched towards you. His dark eyebrows drew together.

“What for?” he spat, “you can barely handle the training room, what makes you think you’ll be any good out there-”

“That’s what training is for,” you countered, unable to help your voice rising.

“I have more important things to focus on than YOU!” his voice raised in return, “you’ll never be ready.”

And with that, he shook his head, starting to walk away from you. For a second, you could only gape in outrage at his back as he stormed away. But he only made it a few paces before you recovered yourself, stepping forwards.

“I am ready!”

Your hands balled at your sides as he froze in place. You remembered the power that ran through them, your success in training yesterday. Jungkook was done underestimating you.

He spun to face you.

“Prove it.”

Not a second after his words, a slice of gold cut through the air, straight towards you.

Ducking out of the way, you whirled around again to find Jungkook advancing towards you, lopsided smirk on his face and gold light whirling in his irises. This time, you reacted when he raised an arm, blue racing to meet his gold in the air and colliding in a shower of sparks.

Feeling the thrum of electricity in your veins, you felt stronger. You stepped forwards, meeting his eyes in challenge. He thought you were too weak? That you would give up?

Jungkook threw his arm to the side, severing the beam of light that connected you, but instantly fired another bolt which you leapt aside from. The next moment, you recoiled, intercepted by a second streak of lightning cutting through your path.

You were driven back into the path of one more blast as it shot through the air, forcing you to fling yourself to the ground as sparks ripped overhead.

“Please,” Jungkook let out a scoff, “I could beat you with my hands behind my back.”

You had already jumped to your feet, lifting your palms.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Blue erupted towards him then, his own trick used against him as two beams of light penned him in, one either side.

Quirking an eyebrow, Jungkook aimed his palm to the ground, to your surprise. The next moment saw him pushing off the ground, boosted by a jet of gold as he vaulted over your attack. Reacting quickly, you shot towards him again as he was still a blur in the air.

Gold blazed to meet it, an explosion of embers as they collided. You felt Jungkook throw the attack off, sending you stumbling as your lightning collided with a resounding clash against a pile of metal targets that were stacked by the wall.

To your satisfaction, though, the clearing sparks revealed the man staggering up from the floor. It seemed you weren’t so incapable as he thought.

“Still think I’m not ready?” you called, laughter lining your voice.

Jungkook said nothing, drawing himself to his full height and looking around.

Gold light streaked towards the side of the room then, sending a shape flying towards you.

You ducked, the target clanging against the wall behind you. But more were already coming your way, Jungkook rapidly firing more gold through the air.

Undeterred, you didn’t hesitate to fire back, knocking the targets from the air with well-aimed blows of your own. The room filled with flashes of light, blue against gold, fuelled by the two of you throwing everything you had.

But your powers began to slip, reluctant to work so quickly. You could feel yourself tiring, and it was a matter of seconds before you missed, too sluggish to catch one target that shot your way.

It caught your arm, hard, pulling you off balance. You stumbled, one knee hitting the floor as you steadied yourself. Instinctively, the other arm covered your head, waiting for more blows.

But nothing came.

Panting hard, you looked around.

Jungkook stood tall opposite you, the epitome of power as strength filled his form and flowed from his fingertips. His eyes shone with an identical light. Two more targets were suspended in the air by sustained gold beams. He kept them hovering there. Taunting you.

“Like I said,” he growled, “not ready. And if I can do this, it means Bolt can.”

Face burning in humiliation, you pushed yourself to stand.

“What are you so scared of?” you spat, “if you’re so powerful, how come you’re afraid of one man?”

“Don’t you dare-” he began, but you cut him off.

“No!” you yelled over him, “you’re the weak one! You just can’t admit you need me out there because you’re scared of a little lightning.”

In the blink of an eye, the targets dropped from the air, clashing deafeningly against the ground as Jungkook chose to charge at you himself. His teeth were bared as he ran forwards, grabbing you and sending the both of you to the floor.

Jungkook was strong, to say the least. You couldn’t escape his weight that pinned you down, no matter if you thrashed.

His face was so close to you, breathing almost as heavily as you. As you met his blazing eyes, you saw the gold glow fading, darkness taking over.

Gritting your teeth, you pushed back at him, letting your power flow from your hands. Using powers had seemingly slipped his mind; he didn’t see your attack coming, and you successfully sent him reeling, your blow of lightning throwing him off you.

But he found his feet at the same time you did, and scrambled towards you again.

A fist flew towards you, and you countered it with a blast of blue.

Instead of retaliating again, he stumbled back. A smirk crept over your face. Something had got to him; you had riled him up.

“Something wrong?” you asked innocently.

Big mistake.

Maybe Jungkook hadn’t been thrown. Maybe he had just been recharging.

Because now he was advancing again, and his fists were surrounded by gold sparks, that same gold glowering from his eyes once more. You could only match his power for so long. You weren’t as fast as him, and every blow you deflected only made way for another to follow the next instant.

Stumbling backwards, away from him, the back of your leg collided with a bench, and you fell back, heart hammering in panic.

You never met the ground. A fist found your shirt and you were being slammed against the wall instead.

Feet flailing, you called on the last embers of your powers to push back, but Jungkook captured your hand with his free one. He pinned it against the wall, where your sparks danced together in an impossible wrestle.

Meanwhile, his other hand which forced you against the wall didn’t let up, digging more harshly into your throat as you faltered.

Gasping and struggling fruitlessly against him, you stared into the molten gold of his eyes as he pressed his face closer to you.

“You know nothing,” he hissed, “you’ll never be ready-”

“JUNGKOOK!”

A cacophony of voices suddenly swelled, joined by hurried footsteps.

The pressure on your throat was gone then, and you met the ground at last. But your feet couldn’t hold you up, and you crashed to the ground choking on the air that was finally forcing its way to your lungs.

Blinking, you looked up. The first thing you saw was pink, Jimin coming into focus beside you. Concern filled his eyes as your gasping continued, a hand falling onto your shoulder.

But you avoided his eyes in favour of finding what had become of Jungkook.

A few paces away, more of the boys were huddled, still jostling as Jungkook tried to escape. Hoseok was behind him, unrelenting grip on the younger’s arms stopping him from going anywhere. Even though you both knew Hope was the strongest of you all, that wasn’t stopping Jungkook from trying. Gold still bounced off the walls, blinding flashes shooting between, but missing, the members who barely seemed phased by his outbursts.

You couldn’t get a good glimpse of your rival though. He was eclipsed by Jin, who was trying to steady him by the shoulders, speaking quickly and sternly to the incensed man.

On his other side, Yoongi had a hand on his chest, pushing him back and further away from you.

Just then, another set of footsteps, not frantic like the others, made you look around. And even though his gaze travelled first to Jungkook, you couldn’t help but feel your veins freeze with dread.

Namjoon looked furious.

He marched in, V scurrying at his heels. At the sight of his leader, Jungkook seemed to finally ease up a bit, the scuffle quietening down.

A silence seemed to settle over the room, Jungkook’s last struggles dying away as Namjoon cast his eyes around everyone. A faint red haze flitted across his eyes and the lights in the room flickered perilously.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

It was the only time you had felt something close to solidarity with Jungkook. When you looked at each other, you could tell he gulped just like you.

“I thought this was going well,” he shook his head slightly. Your heart sank.

Raising his eyes to meet Jungkook’s again, he took a couple of steps towards the younger while the room held its breath. The lights turned red for a split second, then dimmed again, retreating as if they were equally afraid of the imposing leader.

“I don’t know what you were thinking. You’re supposed to be helping her, and this is how you go about that? You could have killed her! Is this your way of showing you can be trusted?!”

Namjoon never quite raised his voice enough to yell. But still you winced at the anger laced into his tone, and the arm he threw out towards you as he ranted.

Part of you stung anew after he said Jungkook could have killed you. You wanted to protest, hurt swelling within you at the insinuation that you were still too weak – but you pushed it down. The ghost of pain that lingered where Jungkook had struck you reminded you that he was right, as much as it shamed you to admit it, even to yourself.

Jungkook looked down, not able to keep eye contact with his enraged leader.

Sucking in his cheeks, Namjoon took a breath. But you certainly weren’t breathing. You could only hang on for whatever he said next, and the way he cast his eyes between the two of you didn’t instil much hope.

He fixed his eyes on you next.

“I told you I expected you to be able to trust us, including Jungkook. It’s clear you haven’t been able to do that yet. I’m sorry.”

Though he didn’t speak with as much fury, his sadness almost made you feel worse. You wished he would yell at you, give you something to push back against as Jungkook did.

But all you were left with was a punch to the gut more painful than anything the tempestuous younger boy could deliver.

His next words only made it worse.

“I’m keeping you back here until I’m sure you’re ready. I wanted you active as soon as possible, but not like this.”

Although his stern gaze lingered for a moment longer, you barely reacted. His words didn’t feel real. You could only stare blankly at him while the shock reeled through you.

When he turned away, you caught Jungkook’s eye. The satisfied glint you found there made your hands ball into fists.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon sighed now, pinching his nose, “same goes for you.”

At first, you weren’t sure you had heard him right.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one. Jungkook’s eyes widened in horror, straining against Hobi for another brief moment.

“What-?”

“I can’t have you acting like this while your head needs to be in the game, now more than ever. You’ll be staying behind until you show me you can be trusted with each other.”

Unlike with you, Namjoon fixed his dongsaeng with a hard stare, challenging him in some unspoken conversation until he seemed satisfied.

Turning to leave, Namjoon’s gaze fell on you again. His eyes softened, travelled to Jimin.

“Take her upstairs.”

With that, he stalked from the room. Light bled into the room again, but no one moved until he disappeared from the doorway, almost certainly returning to his office.

V stayed behind this time, and now moved towards you. Jimin’s hand on your arm shifted so he could help tug you up to stand. Though you may have stumbled a little, you were sure you could walk fine.

Still, you were grateful for Jimin’s hovering grip on your arm and V’s presence on your other side as they led you to the door.

Reaching the edge of the room, you glanced back at Jungkook. Your aim was to send the most venomous look you could, and it seemed his was the same. Still penned in by the others, who were corralling him away to the corner, he shot you a glare as he shrugged off Hope’s grip in an aggravated movement.

His scowl left your sight as you left the training room, but it stayed imprinted on your memory.

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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 14. Champion

Beginning. ← Previous |

Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers. Some characters are out of character. Warnings: Cursed words, I only read it once. Word Count: 9322 words (a long boy) Author's Note: So the final chapter is here. This has been a wonderful journey. Like I said in my last post, I'll edit the shit out of this, but I knew this was going to happen either way. I want to thank @elgonki for helping me edit this chapter.

"Faster!" Geto ordered me from the side of the ring.

"Just do it!" Nobara encouraged me to continue.

I kicked the pad that was at Nobara's chest with increasing force and speed. My legs wanted to give up, but I was going to let them. Nobara held the pad as tight as she could to keep it from being pushed with each impact.

Despite the distance, Nobara was always the first to hear the news of my life. She was the first to find out about my neck diagnosis, that I became a trainer, and that the king of the ring had hired me. She was the one who helped me when I needed it most. When Naoya happened, she traveled to Kyoto to give me a hug. I always tried to invite her to eat or drink something after training to thank her for her unconditional support.

It was great to have my old life back. Waking up at 7 in the morning to go for a run, going to the gym to exercise, getting into the ring to train with the other girls and teaching jiujitsu classes to the children in the afternoon. The only thing that had changed for the better was that now I had a nice boyfriend who supported me in everything.

"I brought lunch," Choso announced his presence at the ringside while holding a plastic bag with two salads. I pulled myself away from Nobara to greet my boyfriend.

"Let's take a rest," Nobara suggested with a smile. I got out of the ring and gave my boyfriend a big sweaty hug.

"You smell like you work hard," he joked before planting a kiss on my head.

"You are right. The fight against Maki Zenin is in less than a week. I must be in my best shape to take back what belongs to me,” I told him excitedly.

Mei Mei's office was very different from Nanami's. While Nanami's looked like a lawyer's office that drinks old fashions and smokes good cigars, MeiMei's office was very minimalist and functional. The bone walls contrasted with the black desk and silver electronics. Choso and I were sitting on the white sofa that was placed in front of a small plasma television. We talked about our days while we ate. The green salad with chicken that Choso had brought me reminded me of the meals I used to make for Sukuna from time to time when I lived with him. What I missed about being a trainer was being able to eat anything without having the pressure to gain weight.

“The UFC 300 fight card comes with a bang, as it will be a double championship night!” The host of a sports news program enthusiastically announced to a panel of experts.

“That's right! First, we’ll see The Snake de Medusa versus The Fury. Will The Snake be able to regain her title after her injury?” One of the drivers asked openly to the table to start the debate.

“Are you nervous?” Choso asked me, leaving his empty plate on the glass table.

“A lot, but I'll just get into the octagon, I'll do what I have to do, and I'll take down Maki no matter what,” I answered excitedly.

“That's my girl,” Choso proudly placed a warm kiss on my cheek.

In the time we have been together, my relationship with Choso has been the most beautiful and healthy one I have ever had in my life. He always cares about me, cooks for me and supports me in all my decisions. We had less than 3 months living together, and I still maintained the same opinion I had of him. It was a pleasure to wake up next to him every morning, do housework together and make love in the shower from time to time. I loved doing everything together with him.

“I made you a green juice before I came here,” he said handing me one of my reusable bottles I had at home. I hated green juice, but I had to drink it for my own good.

“Yuta Okkotsu was to face Toge Inumaki for the middleweight belt, but Inumaki suffered an injury that will prevent the fight from taking place. Do they already know who his replacement will be?” One of the commentators asked with curiosity.

Yuta and Toge have always been friendly rivals. Outside the UFC they are almost always seen together at events and parties, but once they get in the ring, they are ready to kill each other. That energy of brotherhood and competitiveness makes their fights even more entertaining and among the bestsellers in the business. This rematch had been announced for 3 months. It was a shame that shortly before the event, Inumaki could no longer participate. I wanted to see the fight too.

“It's a good thing you mentioned it, because we have exclusive news for Total Sport! Toge Inumaki's replacement will be no one more and no one less than Sukuna Ryomen!” At that name, I can't help but spit out the green juice.

“What?!” I yelled as I got up from the sofa.

“Just like that! Sukuna will finally go after a second title.”

My mouth dropped open in shock. Sukuna and I would be at the same event! What wonderful news! After I moved to Nagoya, Sukuna hardly ever gave me any sign of life. He would either leave me on read or answer my messages weeks later. I sent hundreds of emails to Nanami to schedule a training session together, but I never received a reply. Every time Choso took me to one of his family events, I expected to see him there, in his fancy suit and expensive sunglasses. Unfortunately, Yuuji would always arrive alone and tell me that Sukuna was busy. It was frustrating to get in touch with him, but at last we would see each other again.

“I'll get to see Sukuna fight live again, what a thrill!” I squealed in excitement as Choso wiped up the mess I had made with a napkin.

“Are you that excited to see him?” I asked dryly.

“Of course I am. I was his coach for a year, and he improved so much in such a short time. I want to see how much he has improved without me,” I answered wistfully.

As much as I loved being back as a fighter, sometimes I liked to remember when I was his coach. The time when I could coexist in the mixed martial arts world and I didn't get hurt often. The best of both worlds. Even though I had my peace of mind, I missed Sukuna making me angry, laughing or crying with joy.

“Do you miss him that much?” Choso asked me out of the blue, avoiding my gaze completely.

“A little. It's just that it's been so long since I last saw him that I'm excited to see how he's doing,” I answered as I sat back down on the couch.

It had been a year since we last saw each other. When we said goodbye after leaving his penthouse, I didn't think it would take me that long to see him again. If I was already excited to return to the octagon for my title, now I was happy to know that Sukuna would see me fight live for the first time. A smile crept onto my face at the idea.

After a heavy week of training until exhaustion, a diet based on chicken breast and study sessions on Maki, we finally arrived at the mythical land where all addictions are connected. Traveling to Las Vegas was always a pleasure. Nobara was excited to travel with me to a new place, Mei Mei was on the phone, and Suguru and I were constantly talking about the fight.

"You better not disappoint us." Suguru joked as the entire team and I headed to the UFC center for the official weigh-in in a family van.

"She will never let us down! She is the strongest fighter there is!” Nobara defended me.

"I’ll give my best," I said in an attempt to stop the fight along with a smile.

I looked at Choso, who had a sad look and hardly spoke during the trip. I tried to ask him what was wrong, but there wasn't a time when we were private enough to ask him. Maybe it was because the last time he was here was when he “found his ex-fiancée with his brother.” I tried to cheer him up several times by telling him that we would go for a drink after the fight and then to the casino, but I couldn't.

The official weigh-in went well. I showed up in front of my old rival Maki and the rest of the disgusting Zenin. I wanted to tell them to go to hell, but I maintained my professionalism. After all, my problem wasn't with Maki, but with her disgusting cousin. After the fight rules were read to us, we returned to the hotel for the exhibition weigh-in. Nobara and Mei Mei did my hair, and they retouched my light makeup to get me camera ready. Upon arriving at the hotel, an insane amount of reporters appeared out of nowhere. I smiled for the cameras, but without losing sight of the entrance. An assistant guided us to a hallway so we could wait there for them to call us for the press conference.

"You look pretty," Choso flattered me with a smile.

"Thank you. I hope you don't ask me offensive questions…” My eyes interrupted what I was going to say as soon as I saw that large figure that I hadn't seen a year ago.

His hair was longer than he remembered, and his features were thinner from having to have lost 5 kilos at once for the fight to take place. He walked alongside the Black Team with their respective jacket and black over-ear headphones. Our eyes connected and something in my mind clicked. I smiled instantly and ran up to him to receive him.

"Sukuna!" I greeted him excitedly with my arms outstretched, waiting for a warm hug.

But I didn't receive a hug, not even a greeting, a “fuck you” would have hurt less. He just ignored me and avoided me like I was the plague in person. My smile fell as I realized the reality. He who had ignored me felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown in my face. What had I done wrong? Why was he acting like this after everything we went through? Seeing his back walking away from me made my heart feel heavier than normal.

"Do not take it personally," Yuuji told me, approaching me. "He's only angry because he's hungry. He hasn't eaten anything since yesterday to reach the official weight.” My friend had dark circles under his eyes and he didn't smile as usual. He looked worse than Nanami on tax day.

"I see…" It was the only thing I could say without sounding disappointed.

"He's even an idiot when his stomach is full, they should be used to it by now," Uraume commented as they approached us. I greeted them after years of not seeing each other, happy that they was with Team Black.

"Yes, that's definitely Sukuna." Choso commented, joining the conversation as he put his arm around my shoulders.

"If he's not upset with something, he's not Sukuna." Yuuji tried to joke, but he couldn't even laugh. You could tell that Sukuna had been using him as his personal punching bag for the past few days.

The younger pink-haired boy began to tell us about the hell it had been to train with his older brother in recent days, while Choso hugged me by the shoulders. I looked askance behind me. Gojo and Nanami were talking to Sukuna, surely they were reminding him what not to say in the interview. His eyes met mine again for a second, but out of pride, I returned my gaze to the conversation I was in. I sighed in an attempt to ease my poor heart.

The press conference with Maki's team had also gone well. We maintained respect while the clear competitiveness could be seen from miles away. That day I spent warming up and training in the hotel gym, preparing myself mentally for the fight. Although now my problem was not with Maki, but with Sukuna. I understand that he was angry, but he doesn't ignore people just because. It's not like he ignored me by accident because he saw me, he saw my eyes. I am sure of it.

Night fell quickly. After a good training session with Geto and a good dinner that relieved my hungry stomach. Choso and I headed to the suite the UFC had paid for us. My body was so tired that once it hit the bed, it didn't want to get up. Despite my fatigue, I was not sleepy. The memory of Sukuna ignoring me ate me alive, I needed answers, but I had no way to get them.

Choso took off my shoes and lay down next to me. He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in the crook of my neck. His breathing was soft and rhythmic. I stroked her hair as I looked at the ceiling that had a hint of glitter. The lights of bright Las Vegas peeked out the window in a dance between blues and greens. I lay on my side to hug Choso fully and give him a soft kiss on the lips. I moved a little away from his face to see him better. My finger pushed his raven hair to the side to see his eyes, but they were closed.

"Are you tired?" I whispered to him.

"A bit," Choso answered. "It's just been a long day," he said before pulling me towards him so he could lay on my chest.

I sighed upon hearing that response. More than tired, he looked discouraged. I wish I knew how to cheer him up, but I didn't. The only thing I could do was hold him close to me and stroke his hair, brushing it between my fingers. My hands slowly lowered to his back. I ran my fingertips along his shoulder blades and down his spine. Something that used to feel warm and welcoming now felt cold and distant. What was going on?

I could barely sleep. I opened and closed my eyes every two hours because anxiety was eating me alive. Between my championship fight and the strange behavior of the Itadori brothers, my mind couldn't calm down. My theories ran back and forth trying to give a reasonable answer to the situation. I reluctantly opened my eyes and noticed the time. It was 6 o'clock, an hour before the alarm would ring to go out for a run. Choso was on the other side of the bed. It shouldn't bother you.

Since I was alone, I headed to the hotel gym to use the treadmills. What I didn't expect was to see that Team Black coming out of the reception. “I forgot he also runs at this time,” I thought excitedly. This was my chance to ask him if everything was okay between us. I ran out of the hotel to catch up with them. Yuuji, Gojo, and Sukuna were warming up on the sidewalk to begin their morning run down the sidewalk. The champion was wearing his headphones like the day before.

"Good morning, guys!" I waved to the team as I approached.

"Good morning, and Choso?" Yuuji asked me curiously.

"Asleep. It's still very early for him,” Explain with a smile so they wouldn’t get worry. "Are you going for a run? Can I go? I asked excitedly.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Gojo intercepted me.

"I don't think Sukuna would mind, it's not like we haven't done it before, right?" I completely ignored his warning.

I approached Sukuna, who looked more intimidating than usual. Almost nothing had changed about his appearance, but his vibe was very different from the last time I saw him. What the fuck was happening? He looked at me getting closer to him, now I couldn't ignore me. He didn't greet me or take off his headphones to greet me.

"Hello! Can I join?!" I yelled at him so he could hear me even though he had his headphones on.

He looked at me from head to toe with disdain as if I were scum and turned to run away. I was frozen and with my mouth open. He's blatantly ignoring me! My mind couldn't understand why I was doing it. Did I do something wrong? Do I smell bad? Do you have amnesia and don't recognize me? What the hell is wrong with him?

"Sorry, see you later," Yuuji told me, giving me an encouraging pat on the shoulder, before following his brother and Gojo.

I smiled offended as I saw Sukuna running away. After a year together, was he going to pretend I didn't exist? I couldn't allow it. I wasn't going to let him make fun of me. I couldn't let the king of assholes straight up ignore me like that. If he could go back to how it was before, me too and it would be worse this time.

I ran after them. My feet moved before my mind could decide on a plan. He ran with all the frustration he had stored up since yesterday. In less time than I thought, I passed Yuuji and Gojo to reach Sukuna. I grabbed his headphones and ripped them off his head. I threw his precious headphones with all my might into the street, getting lost in the traffic. I smiled satisfied at my mischief.

"Hey! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Sukuna yelled at me in annoyance before walking steadily towards me.

"Am I no longer invisible?" I asked, backing away from him.

Sukuna stopped as soon as he realized why he had done it. I thought he would yell at me more, call me some ridiculous nickname, or tell me to stop bothering him, but I got nothing from him. Absolutely nothing. He just looked at me like he pitied me. That had been a direct stab to my ego.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I exclaimed, annoyed, but he didn't tell me anything else.

He just looked at me with those dark eyes. Those eyes that used to look at me with anger, mockery, and sometimes desire. There was nothing behind them anymore. There was only one Sukuna who didn't care at all. An urge to cry invaded me, but I held it back.

"Forget it, I don't want to talk to the king of assholes anyway,” I blurted out, continuing my run by myself.

I ran and ran. My feet were already used to this, but this time they felt heavier. I couldn't give up, I had to continue until I reached the hotel again. I wanted to escape from that empty look. I could run all I wanted, but that memory was faster than me. Sukuna looking into my eyes as if I didn't exist for him. A pain invaded my ribs.

I went to a wall to rest, so the horse pain would go away. I bit my lower lip to stop the inevitable. A row of tears emerged from my eyes uncontrollably. I tried to wipe them away with the back of my hand, but they kept appearing. I crouched forward so no one would see me in my most vulnerable state. “Why do I care so much?” I questioned myself confused.

After getting all my tears out, I looked for my phone in my pants to call a taxi. I was not in the mood to continue my journey to the hotel. Only my phone wasn't there. “Ah, shit… I left it in the suite,” I thought, annoyed with myself for forgetting it. No way, I would have to run back to the hotel.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, I breathed a sigh of relief to finally have reached the floor of my suite. I headed towards my door, but I heard terrible door knocks. I paused, debating whether I should check out what it was about or not. Although this was no longer safe Japan, this was wild Las Vegas. I headed back towards my door until I heard…

"Sukuna! Open the hell up! I know you're there! Choso shouted at the top of his lungs.

I turned back to see what was happening. Choso was pounding on the door of the master suite with both clenched fists. He acted like a lunatic desperate for attention. This was the first time I had seen him do something like that.

"What are you doing?" I asked him confused. He turned to me and looked at me like I was a ghost.

"There you are," He approached me, clearly upset. "Where the hell were you?!" He yelled at me.

Choso had never yelled at me like that before. My eyebrow raised at his strange attitude. My ego had been bruised enough today, I didn't need my boyfriend to jump on the boat too. What the hell was happening to everyone?!

"I went out to run…". I answered confused.

"Do not lie to me!". Choso yelled in my face.

"I'm not lying to you, you can ask Yuuji or Sukuna!" I yelled, offended. Choso clicked his tongue offended.

"So you were with him…" He muttered angrily.

"I found him at the reception". I defended myself. "Nothing happened".

"Oh yeah?" He rolled his eyes, he didn't believe me at all.

"Yeah! Why are you treating me like I've done something wrong?!” I exclaimed annoyed, getting down to his level.

"Because you tricked me, Yuki!" Choso barked angrily.

My eyes widened when I heard that. His eyes also widened as he realized what he had said. My world was falling apart in a single morning. I took a couple of steps back to get away from him while a knot formed in my throat.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean that," He tried to apologize. "You know this place brings back bad memories of what happened."

"I'm not like her," I muttered, annoyed.

"Of course not," He tried to take my hand, but I jerked out of his grasp.

"I would never use Sukuna for money!" I exclaimed, annoyed. "I wouldn't hurt others for my own benefit!" Choso looked at me shocked, as if I had said something bad about his mother.

"Do not tell me that…". He tried to say from the impression. "Don't tell me you believed that absurd story about what he wanted to use to get into the UFC."

"Yes, I do believe him."

"I can't believe you were so stupid."

Before I thought, my hand was already flying towards his cheek. It hit her in a clean impact that turned her face. He wasn't going to call me that to my face, ever. I wasn't going to tolerate another man treating me like trash. Choso looked at me surprised that I had the courage to hit him.

"Of course I'm going to believe him when the same bitch confirmed it." I declared.

"What?! Did you meet her?! Where?!" He asked me perplexed.

"You would know if you saw Sukuna's fights," I barked as I turned around. "You don't need to come to training today," I asked before going back to my suite.

Choso tried to follow me to reconsider, but I just slammed the door in his face. I entered the main room, tired, ashamed and exhausted. Everything had happened too quickly and without logical explanation. I looked for my phone and headphones on the nightstand. I unlock my phone to listen to music and the first thing I see is the photo I took with Choso when we moved into our nice apartment. A tear fell on the screen, preventing me from entering my password.

Choso had just thrown our entire relationship down the drain. That loving and attentive Choso disintegrated into the air like dust. The only thing I had left were its annoying ashes that I would have to sweep up later. First there was Sukuna ignoring and now Choso confusing me with a woman I hate. I curled up in bed to cry comfortably. I put on the first sad song that came across my playlist to cry to. I only had an hour before training, and I wasn't going to waste it. Soon I submerged on my own tears and snot. I fought against my own nose to breathe again through the mess. I had to get everything I felt in my chest to be able to put up a good fight.

The night fell slower than I would have preferred. Nobara, seeing me with swollen and somewhat reddish eyes, asked me what had happened, but I told her that I didn't want to talk about it now. I had to focus on the fight. She was going to get in the ring, do what she had to do and come out as the champion. That was easy.

UFC 300 started with a bang. I watched each of the matches while warming up with Nobara in the small conditioning room they had given us to wait for my turn to fight. He gently tapped the pads at a good pace, fast and precise. I would lower my head when she tried to hit me. We danced in the small space we had to do so.

"I like that look," Geto told me while monitoring my training. "You look angry."

I was angry. Choso had not arrived at the event and doubted he would. There were 15 minutes left until my fight. I told him he shouldn't go to training, I didn't think he would also take my biggest fight as part of it.

"I have to go to the bathroom," I asked for a break as I left Nobara.

I looked terrible. My eyes were puffy from crying and my skin looked duller than usual. I would look terrible on camera, but there was nothing I could do about it. That's what happened to me for crying in the shower instead of bathing properly. I slapped myself in front of the mirror. “Concentrate, you can't let two assholes take you down easily.” I tried to cheer myself up and, in a way, I succeeded. “You're a badass.”

When I left the bathroom, I was going to go back to my room, but out of the corner of my eye I saw that dark hair that I knew so well. It was Choso, but he wasn't heading towards me. He didn't even see me. He continued walking down the hallway until he got lost in a corridor. I had to return to my living room, but my intuition begged me to follow him and that's exactly what I did. I was going to turn the same corner as him, until I heard his voice.

"What the fuck were you doing with my girlfriend in the morning?" He asked annoyed. That was enough of a sign for me to stay hidden. It broke my heart that Choso didn't believe me.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sukuna's annoying voice echoed through the hallways. He had surely arrived at his conditioning room.

"She told me she was with you in the morning. Now answer the damn question,” Choso retorted, his tone becoming more aggressive with each word.

"We met at the hotel entrance. That was it," Sukuna answered.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure! She threw my headphones into traffic because I've been ignoring her like you asked!”

This couldn't be happening. Was Choso the reason for everything? Was Sukuna ignoring me, ghosting me, or avoiding me because of him? I covered my mouth so as not to sob out loud. I never thought Choso would be able to take me away from one of the most important people in my life, especially his brother. I never thought his insecurity would reach this level.

"Good". Choso muttered. "I believe you."

"You better believe me this time because I've been suffering for you, and you know it." Sukuna replied annoyed.

"It's not my fault she chose me over you." Now what the fuck were they talking about? "It's your karma."

"Is that so? Are you just using her to get back at me?” Sukuna asked him offended. Faced with silence, he spoke again. "Just tell me one thing, do you really love her or did you just want to take her away from me?"

"I like her. She's pretty.”

One year dating! One damn year dating and this son of a bitch only likes me! My tears of sadness turned to frustration. What stupid game had they put me into? Had every moment we'd spent together been a lie? A beautiful lie to keep me by your side? He had been making fun of me this whole time, and I wasn't going to let him have it. I clenched my fists in anger. I heard how they began to struggle between grunts and curses. It was hard to know what was going on because I was still hiding in the corner.

"She’s pretty?! That's it?! God, you're a big idiot!” Sukuna yelled, annoyed. "You have a renowned fighter, a wonderful person and the most beautiful woman as your girlfriend, and you only say that she is pretty?!"

A weak smile appeared on my face. I didn't know he looked at me that way. That statement felt like the calm in the eye of the hurricane. My confused tears came out for different reasons. Anger at Choso's selfishness and happiness at finally knowing what Sukuna really thought about me. My phone vibrated in my pocket, returning me to my reality. I took it out to read Nobara's message.

Bestie: Where are you? We should be at the entrance by now.

I wiped my tears with the sleeve of my sweatshirt before running off to my championship fight. She was unaware of the entire strange situation between Choso and Sukuna, but she was sure of one thing. I was going to kill that bitch.

SUKUNA POV

Since we were kids, Choso knew me better than anyone else. He knew when he was hungry, angry, or wanted to get into mischief just by looking at me. I never understood how he did it. It was like he could read my mind better than I could. That's why he was able to share me his cookies without me asking, he calmed me down when I needed it and took the bucket out of my hands when I wanted to dunk Yuuji in front of his friends. His strong intuition no longer surprised me. It wasn't until he realized I liked Y/n before I knew it.

"She’s pretty?! That's all?! God, you're a big idiot!” I yelled in his face. "You have a renowned fighter, a wonderful person and the most beautiful woman as your girlfriend, and you only say that she is pretty?!"

I had him cornered against the wall. It was the closest thing I could do without beating him to death. The last time I did that, it didn't go very well. I really thought he loved her the same way I did, but no, he just used her to hurt me. My fists were turning red from the force I was applying so that he couldn't slip out of my hands.

"Do you see what it feels like to have something taken away from you?" Choso asked me.

"She's not damn candy!" I exclaimed annoyed. "She's a woman who really loves you, and you're still thinking about your whore ex. Don't you realize how pathetic you sound?!"

"Hey, don't talk about Yuki like that!" Choso yelled back to me.

"And don't talk about Y/n as if she were a trophy!" I yelled at him, barely containing my anger. I was reaching for everything in my power not to knock him out again.

"She is! Finally, I have something that you don't!” He yelled in my face. "You always had everything, the best grades, the approval of our parents, the girls you wanted. Even the girls I liked, always they liked you! Yuki was the only one who really liked me back.”

“Y/n really likes you too.” I said before slamming him against the wall of anger. The door to my living room opened, Gojo's white head peeked out. I sighed and reluctantly let go of Choso.

"Y/n is already going to fight," he told me to return to the room.

"Shouldn't you be with her?" I asked him worried. He just avoided my gaze, ashamed. "Now what did you do?"

"It's already on!" Yuuji excitedly informed me from inside. Gojo asked me to come in with his eyes. I sighed exasperated, but ignored him. I pulled my little brother to come into the living room with me.

Hiss by Megan Thee Stallion echoed through the room as everyone settled in front of the television to watch the first championship fight of the night. She looked just as intimidating as she did in every fight, but this time she looked annoyed. I had seen her last fights, she always smiled confidently while fighting the air. This time, her smile had disappeared, and she just walked towards the octagon with a mean look. Her eyes looked reddish and lifeless. “What the fuck did you do to him?” I asked Choso telepathically. I didn't want to start another argument with Yuuji in the room.

Y/n took off her sweatshirt and revealed that body that drove me crazy. Her sports bra and those green 2-in-1 shorts they accentuated her figure beautifully. The referee checked her and gave her the go-ahead to enter the octagon. She walked around the place as if the entire place belonged to her. She stretched her limbs like an elegant panther ready to hunt.

It didn't take long for Maki to make her appearance, but I didn't care about her in the slightest. What surprised me was seeing the idiot Naoya behind her. Y/n probably knew this would happen, after all they are cousins, and they train in the same temple. This would only increase the pressure you feel.

The two fighters met in the ring. Finally, the moment Y/n had been waiting for for years had arrived. This would be the night she would reign in the octagon again. The referee repeated the rules to them and they both clashed gloves.

"Come on, Snake!" Yuuji exclaimed excitedly.

They both stepped back to start the fight. My eyes were on Y/n. “Come on, you can do it,” I thought, hoping to see an incredible fight. The bell rang, and she lunged at Maki without waiting another second, welcoming her with a Superman punch which made Maki step back. Team Black celebrated the small victory of the first blow euphorically.

Maki then lunged at her with equal force to try to take the fight to the ground. He took her arms to bring her closer to his body and threw her to the ground. Y/n resisted the attack well, but managed to take it to her advantage. She took advantage of the fact that she was holding her to use her thigh as a ladder to climb on top of her like a python. In one swift movement, she climbed over her to wrapped her powerful legs and strong arms around her arm. He slammed her to the ground using his own weight. The public went crazy when they saw a strong python strangling its poor prey. My eyes couldn't blink for fear of missing that live massacre.

Once on the ground, Y/n took advantage of the closeness to choke Maki with her leg. Zenin began to squirm to find a way out of the unexpected move. With her free opposite arm and her legs away from Y/n, she didn’t have any options. Her team was yelling incoherently at Maki in an attempt to help her, but there was nothing they could do. Y/n had already won with a perfect arm bar. After the referee saw that Maki could not escape in any way, he ended the fight so that she would not pass out from lack of air.

Team Black cheered euphoric. I already knew that she was a magnificent fighter. She had proved herself on again and again every time we trained together, but this time she had shined. She had proven once again that she was a dangerous woman that no one can mess with.

"Sometimes I forget that she could easily kill me," Choso told me.

"Only if you make her angry," I warned him.

END OF SUKUNA POV

"The Medusa Serpent defeated The Fury in 15 seconds! A personal record!”

I didn't know what happened or when it happened. I just blinked, and I was already choking Maki with my legs. Had won. She was the champion again. The Octagon belonged to me again, but I wasn't happy. I didn't feel the euphoria running through my body. My team jumped into the octagon to hug me and congratulate me on my victory. I smiled weakly. In the distance I saw Naoya scolding Maki for losing so embarrassingly. Even though the fight hadn't lasted long, my body felt tired.

"Y/n, The Medusa Serpent, Y/l/n, the new champion!". The host announced excitedly as soon as the referee raised my arm, granting me the victory.

Geto helped me put on the gold belt and lifted me onto his shoulders, so everyone could see me. I raised my arms in victory as everyone applauded me. This was what I wanted, this was what I had trained for for years, why did I still feel like shit?

"We all knew you would make it!" Nobara hugged me once we got off the octagon after they finished interviewing my coach and I.

"This is to celebrate! I made a reservation at The Chandelier,” Mei Mei announced, thrilled.

"Go ahead." I asked them tiredly. "I want to see Sukuna's fight."

"We'll wait for you in the room then." Nobara told me before hugging me. "Are you okay?" She whispered so no one could hear us. I just nodded so she wouldn't worry.

I went to the seat I had asked the UFC to set aside for me in the front row. People around shook my hand to congratulate me on my victory. I just thanked them and smiled kindly at them. I sank into the black seat as I listened to the loud music and watched the lights dance through the audience. While enjoying the view, I saw Choso running through the audience. You looked everywhere as if you were looking for something. I sank further into my seat hoping he would see me, but he did.

"Congratulations, beautiful!". He greeted me with a smile. “Bitch ass fake.”

"Thank you."

"Let's celebrate! You deserve it!" He exclaimed excitedly.

"I want to see Sukuna's fight." I said without getting up from my seat.

"We can watch it with the others at the bar," He tried to convince me, taking my hand.

"No, I want to see the fight live," I asked him.

He was going to tell me something more, maybe convince me more, but the light in the auditorium went out and Sukuna's song began to boom from the speakers. Making the audience go crazy. The host announced the second championship fight of the night. Sukuna entered the auditorium like the majestic fighter that he is. The crowd around went crazy just seeing him live. I forced Choso to sit next to me so we could watch the fight together.

Sukuna climbed into the ring and walked around the perimeter of the ring, listening to the screams of his fans. Even though Yuta had entered the auditorium, he couldn't take his eyes off Sukuna. He looked better than ever. I missed seeing him through the fence. His strong body glowing under the white lights, his hair swinging from side to side as he warms up and his eyes watching me closely.

It didn't take long for the fight to start. Yuta lunged at Sukuna to hit him. Being smaller in stature, he was more volatile and flexible. His feet moved quickly to strike and defend with ease. Sukuna tried to catch him and hit him, but Yuta always escaped him. The king was engaging in an extreme game of whack-a-mole.

Until now, Yuta was the only one who had thrown punches so far. Sukuna tried to throw his best punches, but none of them managed to connect completely. His upper movements looked stiff and slower than usual.

"Come on, Sukuna. Stop playing." I whispered to myself.

The pace of the fight was guided by Yuta. He was the one moving, punching, kicking, it was like he was fighting against a steel wall. Sukuna tried to keep up with him, but his body was not up to it. He threw a punch, Yuta dodged it and landed a blow with his right shoulder. Sukuna's scream could be heard throughout the auditorium. I knew that cry very well. I stood up from my seat, like most of the audience, in an attempt to find out what was happening. Sukuna backed up to lean against the fence, holding his shoulder. Yuta took advantage of this to arrive and knock him out with a blow to the jaw. Sukuna fell like a sack of potatoes at that. The referee quickly arrived to assist him and declared the fight over. Shoko soon got into the octagon to check it out.

"Sukuna…" I whispered in shock, seeing him unconscious on the floor on the giant screen.

"Don't worry, he'll be fine." Choso told me.

"That scream was not normal," I said worriedly, stroking my neck when I remembered I was in Sukuna’s shoes.

"He just need to go to the doctor. Shoko will treat him and he will be fine,” He tried to calm me down again. "Let's get out of here, they are waiting for us to go celebrate,” He took my arm so we could leave.

"What kind of brother are you?!" Finally, I exploded in his face. Choso looked at me surprised. "Your brother is suffering on the ground, and you are thinking of celebrating?!".

"I only worry about you."

"No! You've never cared about me! You only care about yourself!” I yelled, furious. I didn't care who listened to me. I could not take it anymore.

"That's not true... You know I love you." Choso told me.

"Oh really?! And why didn't you tell Sukuna that?!” I didn't hit him again, but I did give him a verbal slap. "I'm not going to be your little consolation prize…"

"You are not," Choso interrupted me.

"Just stop lying!" I screamed tiredly. "It's over!"

"Y/n... Please, are you really going to choose him?" Choso wondered.

I was going to answer him, but I saw that the paramedics quickly arrived on the scene. This couldn't be happening. Not again. They put Sukuna on the stretcher and took him away from the chaos.

"I do…"

"What?"

"I do choose him, I should have done it from the beginning,” I answered firmly before dodging him.

I ran out to where they were taking him. Being a fighter, I had almost access to any part of the auditorium, so they let me pass. Escape the crowd to get backstage to the medical wing. Sukuna was still unconscious and with a mouthpiece in his face. My mind transported me back to 3 years ago, where I was the one on that cold stretcher and had no idea what I was going through having to tolerate the pain.

"Y/n!". Yuuji called me as he saw me with his teary eyes as we watched Sukuna being loaded into an ambulance. Once I hugged him, he collapsed in my arms. Gojo and Shoko got on into the ambulance with him and the paramedics closed the door behind them.

"What the hell happened to him?!" I demanded answers while holding Yuuji.

"Let's go to the hospital," Nanami told me without the intention of answering my question.

I stood watching the ambulance speed away with sirens blaring while my friend sobbed for his brother. I wanted to cry, but my eyes were already dry. I had already cried a lot that day, I had to hydrate myself.

Returning to the hospital gave me chills. The cold hallways, the people in a hurry and the strange clean smell. Being in the waiting room was no better. Being sad in a place surrounded by sad people only made my mood worse. We had already been here for two hours and the only thing they told us was that he needed emergency surgery for a throwing shoulder injury. A common injury among high-performance athletes is a tear due to stress on the shoulder.

"Congratulations," Gojo told me as he gave me a bottle of water to wake up from the trance.

"I'm not in the mood for congratulations," I said sincerely.

"It's not from me, it's from Sukuna." He clarified. "He watched the fight and was fascinated, you did a good job,” he told me before messing my hair.

The thought of Sukuna being proud of me calmed my tortured heart a little. Despite his coach’s good intentions, I wanted him to tell me himself. The door to the emergency room opened, and they called out to those who came to see Sukuna Ryomen.

"The surgery was a success. I already informed Shoko privately,” The doctor said. Yuuji and I sighed in relief.

"How long will it take to return to training? One, two years?” I asked excitedly. I didn't get a response. "Maybe three like me?" The emotion decreased with every word seeing that no one was excited by the news.

"When I said that the surgery was a success, I mean that he did not lose his shoulder and that he will be able to move it with a lot of rehabilitation, but not enough to return to the ring." The doctor explained.

"What?!" Yuuji and I exclaimed at the same time.

"But this is his first injury, right?!" I exclaimed, worried that we would be given the wrong diagnosis.

"Yes, but it was not treated on time. Sukuna completely refused to have the surgery because he would stop fighting for a couple of years,” Shoko answered.

"Since when?" I asked angrily. I clenched my fists to stop myself from screaming, but I couldn't. "Since when have he had that injury?!" I screamed.

"Two years ago," Nanami replied, avoiding my gaze, clearly ashamed.

Two years ago I was his coach. During that year, Sukuna was suffering and didn't tell me? This day I couldn't get any worse. First Sukuna ignored me, then Choso mistook me for his ex-fiancée. It also turns out that my boyfriend doesn't love me. Now Sukuna will never be able to fight again because an injury that I could possibly worsen with exercise routines was not treated.

"And why didn't you tell me?!". I screamed inconsolably. Now it was Yuuji's turn to hug me to calm me down. "How could you let him fight in that state, you fucking idiots?!" I cried out loud against his chest. The only response I received was Yuuji's sobs. Out of anger, I pushed him away from me. "Why are you crying?! You surely knew, and you didn't tell me anything, you fucking gossip!” I screamed from the deepest part in my chest.

"I didn't know! If I had known, I would have helped him!" He yelled back at me with teary eyes.

That made me calm down a little. I was getting out of control. I took a deep breath and analyzed the situation. How did Yuuji, who is by Sukuna's side 24/7, not know about this? Wait… Yes, I knew that, but not the truth.

"The thing is, he has… “Sessions” with the physiotherapist. You know what I mean?" I remembered when Yuuji secretly told me that Sukuna was sleeping with Shoko. Did Sukuna lie to his own brother so he wouldn't know about his shoulder back then?

"Shoko" I called her. She looked at me curiously. "How many times did you sleep with Sukuna?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I am a lesbian," she answered with her eyebrow raised.

I was already tired of crying. All he could do was laugh at the ridiculous situation he was in. Sukuna was a huge idiot. A stubborn bastard who will do anything to be on top. Poor him… now he is on the slopes of the mountain while I am conquering him. Yes, you are the king of the assholes.

The nurse who was treating Sukuna left the room. I went ahead of everyone to go in first and close the door behind me. The others tried to open the door, but it was impossible from outside without a key. I approached the stretcher. He had a wet towel covering his sharp face. He had his arm posed with bandages and an angle where it wouldn't hurt further.

"You have 5 minutes to tell me the truth." I ordered bothers by removing the towel and throwing it across the room.

"Weren't you a pitcher in your past life?" He asked me sarcastically.

"Don't try to be a smart ass! Tell me the whole truth now! I know you've been hiding things from me since I've been your coach,” I ordered under my breath.

"I have a pitcher's shoulder injury and I didn't treat it because I didn't want to stop fighting. Happy?" He answered me dryly, without looking me in the eyes.

"What else?"

"There is nothing else," Sukuna lied to me.

"Please, Sukuna…" I begged him. "Do not do this to me. You know you've hidden other things from me. Just say it".

"How much do you know?" He asked me looking into my eyes.

"I know more things than you think."

"So if you already know, what's the point of me saying it?" Sukuna answered, closing his eyes and facing away. I squeezed the railing of the stretcher out of anger.

"So you're not going to tell me that you love me?" I asked offended. He turned to look at me faster than lightning, but he didn't say a single word. We stared at each other for a long while in silence.

"I'm not going to say that to my brother's girlfriend." He answered dryly.

"Who in their right mind would stay with an idiot who can't get over their ex?". He just looked at me surprised at that statement. "So say it… You have a free field." I asked him.

Sukuna just stared at me in disbelief, debating in his mind whether this was real or a test. Say it, say it, just say it for the love of God! Tell me you love me, tell me I'm special to you, tell me all the things you bravely said to Choso, but you're ashamed to tell me when I am in front of you. After a couple more seconds of silence, I decided to give up. It was okay that I wanted answers, but I wasn't going to beg him to give them to me.

"Fine. I won't bother you anymore, get well soon." I let go of the railing to get away from the situation.

As soon as I turned around, his hand took possession of my arm and returned me to my place, this time pulling me towards him. Our faces were inches apart. I could see his features in great detail. His tribal tattoos framing his face, his penetrating eyes, his straight nose and his full lips. He grabbed my sweatshirt to close the distance with a deep kiss that made me melt inside. That's when I realized why I missed being his trainer or watching him fight, actually, I missed him. Being close to him, spending time with him, kissing him. I felt complete and complete every time Sukuna took me as his.

"I love you…". He whispered into my lips. "I love you so much that I let you go because I thought you would be happier with someone like Choso," he explained as he caressed my cheeks with his fingers.

"What's the point of being happy if everything is a lie?". I asked him with a smile.

"But I'm a mess, dear," he warned me.

"If you're a mess, I'm a damn chaos." I replied before meeting our lips again.

His lips traveled over my mouth as if it were newly discovered terrain. Even though we had already done this behind everyone's back, it felt like it was the first time. I loved him, and I was no longer afraid to admit that that love that I thought I had buried deep in my soul was still there. Only this time he would do anything to stay by her side. We were both being consumed by the agony of wanting to be together. Sukuna pulled me by the waist with his free arm to lift me onto the stretcher with a strength I didn't think I would have in this situation, making me sit on top of him.

"We can't do it here. Everyone is outside,” I whispered to him.

"I just want you to stay close to me, you damn pervert," He said with a mischievous smile. My face blushed with embarrassment.

I lay on his chest, on the side that wouldn't bother his injured shoulder. He drew imaginary circles on his chest as he told me everything he already knew. That Choso asked him to stay away from me so that she could trust him again. That he had lied to Yuuji about sleeping with Shoko so that no one would find out about his injury for fear of it becoming news. That he had hidden his feelings towards me, and he never thought that his feelings were reciprocated.

"And why did you lose the fight? What happened to your good luck ritual? I asked him confused.

"It hasn't worked since my fight with Aoi Todo." He answered with a smile just for me. That meant that all this time he had been fighting without luck on his side. "No one satisfies me like you." He purred against my cheek.

I smiled flattered by that strong statement. I snuggled closer to his strong chest and slipped my hand into his robe to caress his bare skin. My body felt light with each passing second and each time he brushed my hair between his fingers. It had been such a long day and I needed a break.

SUKUNA POV

Even though Yuta Okkotsu massacred me in the octagon, having her in my arms made me feel like I was still the champion. Little by little she fell asleep. I was sure my arm would fall asleep, but I didn't care at all. His warmth made me feel more alive than ever, and I never wanted him to leave me again.

I heard the living room door open. Yuuji was going to shout something, but I silenced him from my place. The rest of the team came in behind him to ask me how I was feeling.

"Do you need something?" Yuuji asked me in a low voice.

"I already have everything I need," I said, looking at Y/n.

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xoxobluelock · 1 year

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Itoshi Sae, Physical Contact, and the Exceptions: Rin and Shidou

As of Chapter Ch 214, the only two people we see Sae allow to touch him are his little brother…and Shidou Ryusei.** Post (S)pain, it’s only been Shidou.

**I’m going to argue that Sae allows Shidou to jump on his back. And I mean 'argue' in the lightest sense.

Quick preface: Just organizing and posting notes I took on the subject for characterization in a fic (they are, therefore, biased). I’m not claiming that no one has ever touched Sae, just that the manga only shows a select few occasions. We’ll go in chapter and not chronological order. For the most part.

The first time the manga shows us anyone trying to initiate contact with Sae is with these two clowns (JFU President and U-20 “coach”) in Ch 107. Hardly surprising that Sae wouldn’t shake the hands of people he so clearly doesn’t respect.

Every expression in this panel is priceless.

Next up, Ch 111:

Aiku and his proposal are plainly of more interest to Sae than the JFU bozos, yet Sae nopes right out of Aiku’s ‘gentlemen's agreement’ handshake. And then threatens to nope out of the whole match if the U-20 Team can’t meet his standards.

We see Sae being rushed by celebratory teammates several times. Not once do we readers see any of them actually succeed in throwing an arm around him pre-Spain, in Spain, or post-Spain. Until Shidou.

Post Spain (Ch 116):

Sae has just scored a goal crazy enough to have Isagi think, “The leading actor in this game is Itoshi Sae!!” The crowd is going wild, the U-20 Team is rushing Sae in joy, …and Sae literally slaps them off: “Hands off, chumps.”

Poor Fox Kid and Not-Bokuto. They seem so darn sweet.

Now, a blast from the past.

Pre-Spain (Ch 123):

I don’t know about y’all, but I can so clearly see Little Sae ducking right out these guys’ arms—in a more humorously standoffish way. Like how we see Rin sidestep Isagi (coming right up!). An imagination is all we got here.

Spain (Ch 125):

Now in the mysterious (S)pain… Hopefully we’ll get more than a glimpse of it one day! Would Sae have dodged the Real Madrid Youth Team guys? Would he have numbly endured it? Would he have slapped them off? Etc.? The manga, again, leaves us to wonder. (My money’s on the second one.)

Once again, I’m definitely not saying Sae’s teammates have never succeeded in tackling him in celebration. Just that it’s notable we, the readers, don’t see it. Yet.

I’ll conclude with some pre-Spain Itoshi Bros cuteness, but let’s talk some post-Spain Itoshi Bros parallels first.

Ch 121

Poor Isagi. 😂 Rin sees him coming with a little “!” and dodges his charge like the plague with a grumpy lil “Hmph.”

Rin, now away from Isagi, goes right back to business in the next panel.

Ten chapters later, we have a Sae parallel.

Ch 131

Just like Rin, Sae sees a celebratory missile coming right at him with a “!” and a less than enthusiastic expression—yet Sae doesn’t dodge Shidou.

Shidou definitely takes off like a bat out of hell (ha). But do we really think Itoshi Sae of the New Generation World XI couldn’t have even sidestepped—like his little brother—if he’d really wanted to?

I think Sae allows Shidou his moment of clingy celebration. Especially in light of the Rin and Isagi parallel. Remember, this was immediately following Shidou’s unbelievable Big Bang Drive—a goal that had even Sae showing open surprise on his face (Ch 130). Shidou becomes the first one shown to have jumped on Sae in celebration.

(Real talk, though: someone please give Kitsunezato and Neru a high five!)

The next page…

Both pursuers of the Itoshi Bros end up with a hard impact on the ground, and yet….

Sae doesn’t tell Shidou to f— off after throwing Shidou off him. Shidou doesn’t get an icy “Hands off, chump” like Fox Kid and Not-Bokuto. Sae doesn’t stalk off (he actually lingers and seems to chat while Shidou just chills on the ground and gives him a lil thumbs-up). Sae tells Shidou, “You have to get a hat trick, remember? Then you’d get my number. Hands off until then, you horny demon.” Untillll being the operative word (...one of them, anyway 😅). Not only does Sae let Shidou latch on, Sae banters with Shidou.

This is outside the point of this post, but Sae looks…sad? nostalgic? when Shidou first jumps on him. It doesn’t last long, but it’s there. Perhaps relating to the panels I’m about to bring up. (Addressing what may have prompted Sae’s “Gross” and “horny demon” reactions + his punch/tackle is also outside the purview of this post 😅 Same with speculating on what the helllll these two were talking about below.)

Concluding with some Pre-(S)pain Itoshi Bros

Ch 123:

We see Little RinRin as the original No Touchy exception. And it’s so wholesome.

And Sae actually reaching out to Rin and being affectionate. Maybe we’ll see it again one day.

Ch 124

Look, the Itoshi Bros are capable of high fives! Or, they were, anyway.

Unlike Sae, we actually see Rin's teammates grabbing him in celebration, pre-(Sae’s return from) Spain.

In conclusion...

So far, the manga shows Sae breaking his general Kuzco Rule with only two people.

Pre-Spain, Little Rin was a very obvious exception. Post-Spain / currently and more subtly, Shidou is the only exception we've seen. Is it a respect thing? A soft spot? Emphasizing Sae is an "untouchable" player? Some combination?

As for canon… I really hope we see Sae and Shidou become friends. They’re both so alone but seem to bring each other to life. I also really hope we’ll see Sae accepting his teammates’ celebration one day. Just imagine Sae pulling off a crazy pass or stealing a goal at the World Cup, both Rin and Shidou rushing him in joy, the rest of the team on their tails! Or maybe something smaller, like just celebrating a cool move in practice. I think we’ll see it eventually. Just like I think we could see Shidou act as a bridge between the estranged Itoshi Bros.

You’ll find what notes / “meta” I’ve already posted under #xoxoBlueLockNotes. Will probably organize and post more somewhere in here!

PS: Check out @bluelockhalloweek for spooky Blue Lock fun! 🎃 Halloween is just around the corner!

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blue--ingenue · 1 month

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One Fell First, And One Fell Harder [Ch. 1]

Summary: Scorpius has grown up hearing stories of the heroic Harry Potter. Although his father doesn’t seem to be his biggest fan, Scorpius devours every news article and book he can get his hands on. It’s less about the man, and more about the adventure. He loved envisioning himself causing mischief and mayhem, flitting from class to class with his very own best friends. When he learns that the youngest Potter boy is his age, he couldn’t be more excited. Then he sees a photograph of him in the Daily Prophet. He’s the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen, and Scorpius just knows he needs to meet him.

Author's Note: this first chapter was inspired by something that the lovely @scorbuslove said on another scorbus post. they headcannoned that lily and james probably soaked up the spotlight, but albus would've been a lot more reserved. this is my take on some of the events that shaped his view of being a Potter. let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! :)

The first time Scorpius heard the name “Potter,” his mother was sipping tea in the garden. Scorpius had just celebrated his fourth birthday a few weeks prior and was playing with some of his new toys beneath the shade of his favorite willow tree. He tossed his plush puffskein to the ground and watched it bounce about the garden. He was content. With his tummy stuffed with leftover birthday cake and an afternoon full of possibilities, little Scorpius couldn’t understand why grownups troubled themselves with such dull things as newspapers.

His attention snagged on the satisfying crinkle and crackle of parchment as his mother adjusted her hold on the day’s paper. Scorpius loved to read, was far more enthusiastic about a good book than most children his age, but he couldn’t fathom reading anything with so few pictures. The photographs interested him. He loved to watch the enchanted images, liked to imagine what the inky witches and wizards thought and felt, living in their newspaper world. Scorpius toddled over to his mother’s chair. He was four years old, quite mature, in his opinion, and believed that a big kid such as himself should try to see what all the fuss was about.

He gave an indignant little huff as his foot caught on a loose stone and nearly went tumbling. Astoria looked up at the sound and folded her paper with the most tender of smiles. He felt weightless for a moment as she scooped him into her lap and brushed off a smudge of dirt resting on his nose. This was where he felt safest, nestled into his mother’s lap. Astoria shifted to make sure his little legs wouldn’t slip from her lap before resuming her reading. Scorpius squinted at the swirling text and shifting headlines. Most words were too long for him to read, and he quickly gave up on them. He searched for some shorter words, and a few repeatedly stuck out.

“Are you reading about gardening?” he asked after a few minutes. His mother regarded him with amusement twinkling in the corners of her dark eyes.

“Not at the moment,” she replied, brushing stray locks of hair from his eyes. Scorpius frowned. He could’ve sworn he’d guessed correctly, and was quite proud of himself. He furrowed his brows and pointed a little finger at the swirling text before him.

“But it says ‘Potter.’ It says ‘Potter’ loads of times,” he reasoned. His mother hummed in agreement and gently set the paper on the table.

“Years and years ago, there was a monster. A terrible man who did terrible things.”

Scorpius tucked his legs beneath him and inched closer to his mother. He loved a good story, and the tone of her voice hinted that this would be a good one.

“He drew many witches and wizards to his side, and they did terrible things. Especially to those he believed were weak. One family, the Potters, refused to join him...” Astoria trailed off. A familiar crinkle formed along her brow and Scorpius comfortingly nuzzled into her hold. She kissed the top of his head before continuing.

“They died bravely fighting for what they believed in. Their names were Lily and James Potter. Their son, just a few months old at the time, was left an orphan.” Scorpius listened with rapt attention.

The sun bowed its rays to the horizon as Astoria explained that she and Draco had attended Hogwarts with the boy. She told him of the war that nearly destroyed the school, and would have destroyed the rest of the world with it, if the wrong side had won. By the time she finished Scorpius had begun to drift off to sleep. He felt the familiar weightlessness of being carried to bed and sighed contentedly. As he nestled beneath the his quilt, he dreamt of heroes with lightning-shaped scars and an enchanted school that felt years and years away.

Saturdays were Albus’ favorite days of the week. He sat upon the stool closest to the floo, swinging his little legs back and forth to the ticking of the clock on the mantle. His mother had taken James to Diagon Alley a few minutes prior, but Albus chose to wait for his dad. His dad, who was currently turning the kitchen inside out in search of his wand. He fiddled with the sleeves of his jumper. Just as he began tugging on a loose bit of yarn, a hand gently eclipsed his and he eagerly jumped down from his perch. Albus looked up into soft green eyes, the same vibrant hue as his own, and took his father’s hand. The other now clutched his wand, and his father led them to the floo. He took a generous handful of powder and ducked inside, bumping his head on a loose stone in the brickwork.

Albus snickered quietly. He was proud that he was small enough to fit inside without any fuss or bother. Harry ruffled his hair and Albus giggled as he tucked into his father’s side. “Ready?” he asked. Albus nodded and the living room disappeared in a flare of green.

They arrived at the Leaky Cauldron amidst the hustle and bustle of the lunch rush. Albus reached up to grasp his father’s hand and the pair stepped out of the floo. He wasn’t the biggest fan of crowds, and for the first time James wasn’t there to serve as a buffer between him and the countless passerby that wanted a glimpse of the famous Harry Potter. The thought sent an unpleasant lurch through his stomach and he squeezed his dad’s hand just a bit tighter. As they made their way to the back of the pub most people seemed occupied with their drinks, or caught up in conversation. Only a few heads turned, eyes alight with recognition. They made it through without much fuss and he was grateful for the quiet of the alleyway. His dad tapped the unassuming bricks with practiced ease, and the wall gave way.

The familiar drag of brick against mortar grew louder and louder until it stopped altogether. The chalky dust dispersed with a wave of his dad’s wand, and there lay Diagon Alley. It was the same as it always was, yet he never grew tired of the sight. Crowded, the narrow street chock full of street vendors and people balancing boxes upon boxes of shopping in their arms. He loved it. He surged forward, stopping short when he realized his father hadn’t yet moved. Albus tilted his head in silent question and his father let out a deep sigh. He squared his shoulders before kneeling down to meet Albus’ concerned gaze.

He brushed a few stubborn curls from Albus’ face and placed his hands on his shoulders. “You remember what I told you about strangers, right Al?”

Albus nodded emphatically. “It’s just people looking, but just in case anyone gets too close, you run straight back to me and we’ll head back home, alright?” he asked. His dad had that same heavy air about him that only came out when they went out in public. Albus knew his father was famous, but he didn’t quite know why. His dad had explained bits and pieces and promised to tell him the whole story once he was a bit older. Their family seemed to draw all the room’s attention toward them no matter where they went. James loved every second of it. Doting witches and wizards would try to take pictures with him, ask him what it was like to be Harry Potter’s son. And then they would spot Albus. They would tell him he was the spitting image of his father when he was younger, and suddenly all the attention was on him. Albus was proud to look like his father, but he hated the gawking that came with it. And this time James wasn’t here to bear the brunt of it.

“I promise,” he assured, mirroring his father’s serious expression. His dad’s features softened and he kissed the top of Albus’ head as he stood. “That’s my boy,” he murmured. With that the pair crossed the threshold into Diagon Alley. His father promised that Albus could pick where to go right after they met up with his mother and James. The Alley was significantly more crowded than usual and Albus had to weave between legs and around billowing cloaks to avoid being trampled. He tugged on his dad’s sleeve and made grabby hands, bouncing on the balls of his feet. The next moment he felt weightless as his father lifted him into his arms.

Albus decided that this was much better. He no longer had to worry about being squashed and he could see the window of his favorite sweet shop just ahead. He squirmed excitedly in his father’s hold and pointed a chubby finger at the shop. He couldn’t read well enough to tell the name, but his father seemed to understand.

“Alright, alright,” he laughed. “As long as you don’t tell your mum.” Albus shook his head so hard that the stray curls fell right back into his eyes. He wouldn’t tell a soul. Except maybe James, but only to brag that he got sweets and his brother didn’t. It took a bit longer than usual to maneuver around the crowd toward the shop. In fact, it took forever, in his opinion. But the second the bell jingled above the door he knew the wait had been worth it. Floor-to-ceiling shelves boasted every type of sweet imaginable. An aroma of chocolate and freshly-baked biscuits wafted from the kitchen, barely visible from his perch in his dad’s arms. Children pressed their hands to the glass counter pointing at slices of fudge and heaps of iced biscuits. It was heaven, and Albus was going to try everything .

His father must’ve clocked the feverish gleam in his eyes because he sat Albus at one of the tables and told him not to run off while he bought them a sundae to share. He promised to be good and swung his legs in excitement as his father lined up for their treat. His dad had been in line for less than a minute before there was a flurry of movement and several people began excitedly whispering about him. Albus noticed the way his whole body tensed and he plastered a smile on his face that didn’t gleam like it usually did. It was the face he reserved for when they were in public and people had recognized him. Albus sighed. It would take longer than usual for the sundae to reach the table. His father politely shook hands and signed several loose pieces of parchment that were thrust his way. One man noticed Albus watching and gave him a small wave. He waved back, not wanting to appear ill-mannered.

Recognition flickered to life in his eyes as his gaze flitted between Albus and his dad. He seemed to come to a decision just before picking his way between his dad’s fans and settling into the chair across from him. Albus glanced nervously at his dad before flitting his gaze down to the table. His eyes anxiously traced the patterns of the wood grain as the seconds crawled by. A moment later he heard a sharp pop and he looked up, startled. The man was holding out a sweet. Its filigreed wrapping paper glinted in the light and Albus licked his lips hungrily. He laughed softly and set it gently in front of Albus.

“Go on,” he coaxed. “I went to school with your dad when we were kids. You know, you look just like him. I'm Theodore Nott. And you must be Albus,” he continued.

Albus tentatively picked up the sweet, eyeing the stranger. The wrapper didn’t look like any of the ones used at the sweet shop. He collected all the wrappers and taped them next to his toybox in neat little rows, and he’d never seen this one before. Just then, he caught a whiff of the treat and all apprehension melted away. It smelled positively delicious and he all but ripped the wrapper away. His bottom teeth had just grazed the candy when a soft thunk drew his attention away. His father had set down their sundae and was looking at the sweet in his hand.

“Al, did you nab that from the display table?” his father asked reproachfully. Albus shook his head hard. “No! From your friend!” he asserted.

His father’s concern was overcome by confusion. “My friend?” he asked. Albus nodded, glad that his father didn’t think he was a thief. He pointed at the man, who was now standing a fair distance away and not looking at anything in particular.

“Had a snake on his arm,” Al mumbled, raising the sweet to his lips. In a split second the sweet was snatched from his hand and his father’s face was inches from his.

“Stay here!” he ordered. He then spun, cloak snapping, and shoved his way through the crowd. Albus sniffled, scared and confused by his dad’s reaction. He heard the hissing and cracking of spells meeting wood. The crowd flew into a panic. Cracks as loud as gunshots sounded all around him as witches and wizards apparate away. There were terrified cries as people tripped over themselves to get to the doors. He stood up, wobbling slightly as his feet sunk into the cushion. A few children started wailing. Through it all Albus could think of only one thing.

“Dad…” he croaked. His bottom lip quivered and he felt a few fat tears roll down his cheeks. “Dad!” he shouted as loud as his lungs would allow. The crowd was still surging to the exits, blocking his view of the duel raging a few feet away. His chair wobbled and creaked as someone tripped into it. He hung onto the back for dear life, terrified beyond measure that he would fall and be trampled. For a moment he was transported to the family living room. It was movie night, and because his mother hadn’t grown up with muggle technology, it was his father’s duty to pick the films. He’d clutched a bowl of popcorn to his chest and let the couch cushions swallow him up. He didn’t remember all of what happened. He’d dozed off at some point only to see the father lion hanging onto a cliffside. He watched, transfixed and horrified, as the lion fell a hundred feet below, lost to the trampling a thousand hooves. What if his dad got hurt? Or worse?

Albus wiped the snot and tears from his face with the sleeve of his jumper and climbed down from the chair. He could do this. He could be brave. Brave like a Gryffindor. Like his dad. Albus ran beneath the counter. The gap between the barstools and tabletop was just wide enough for him to squeeze through. He crawled along the ground, hands coming away sticky as discarded ice cream cones leaked their contents along the tiles. He hated it. He kept crawling anyway.

His attention snagged on a familiar grunt and he froze. Just a few feet away his father was firing off a barrage of spells. Flashes of red, gold, and occasionally green from the other man, struck the walls in a frenzy. What if his dad got hurt because of him? He had to help. He crawled forward, slipping between the barstools in front of him, when something sharp and searing sliced his palm. He shouted and looked down. Shards of a broken sundae bowl stared up at him, one of them with a sickly red spot that matched the new cut on his hand.

“Albus?!” - His father’s voice. His dad turned toward him for a second - just a moment - but that was all the other man needed. Before he could shout a warning a red flash dug into his shoulder and he fell to one knee, hissing in pain. He threw himself forward, the glass forgotten, and launched himself to his father’s side. Just as Albus’ gaze whipped toward his dad’s attacker a flash of light ignited from somewhere behind them and struck the man in the chest. He fell to the ground with an awful thump, breathing heavily.

Albus put himself between his father and whoever had cast the spell, tiny arms outstretched on either side to shield him. The man stepped into the dimmed lighting, hands raised in surrender. “It’s alright Albus, I work with you father,” he declared. Albus had heard something like that before.

“No!” he shouted, stomping one foot for good measure. He jumped when a hand grasped his shoulder.

“It’s alright Al. He’s telling the truth,” his father soothed. Albus lowered his arms. All the fight had drained out of him in one fell swoop. The man marched forward, wand trained on the unconscious wizard behind them. His father spun him around.

“What were you thinking? I told you to stay there!” he shouted. He looked terrified. He’d never seen his father terrified before. His hair was askew and his voice cracked, as though he’d been shouting for hours. “Albus!” he shouted again.

“I’m sorry…” Albus trailed off. His lip wobbled again and suddenly he was crying. The tears blurred his vision and he sobbed harder, little shoulders heaving with each ragged inhale. He flinched at the feeling of someone pulling him forward, but relaxed when he realized it was just his father. He melted into the embrace, babbling apologies as his father stroked his hair.

“It’s alright, Al. Shh, shh, shh…” his father soothed. “You’re alright. You’re safe.”

Taglist: @hoomandoescosplay

#scorbus #fluff #angst #albus x scorpius #scorpius malfoy #albus potter #albus severus potter #scorpius hyperion malfoy #the cursed child #harry potter and the cursed child #hpcc

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corazondebeskar-reads · 6 months

Text

well it's love, make it hurt - chapter seventeen

well it's love, make it hurt series

seventeen: it's you I can't deny

series masterlist | prev chapter | epilogue

dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader

Words: 4.7k

Summary: You and Din learn to know each other again.

Warnings: bdsm, d/s dynamics, enthusiastic consent, preestablished safeword etc, dom!din djarin x sub!reader, soft din djarin, din djarin is a good dad, long distance relationship, vaginal sex, oral (m & f receiving), communication, angst, major life decisions, author plays god with the timelines (sorry), canon adjacent?, canon divergence?, no use of y/n

a/n: my friends, this is the end. the epilogue will be posted on December 18.

i love you, and thank you for spending time with these two. it means more to me than you'll ever know.

also um just bear with me about what I've done to the canon timeline. it's only a little wonky.

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

9 ABY - Fall

Despite his intentions, you don’t talk every day. It’s just not feasible. And maybe nights pass when you’re already asleep when he calls, but if it happens, he doesn’t mention it. You think he’s still afraid to scare you.

What scares you is how much you wouldn’t mind, and even that isn’t so frightening these days. This is easy, far easier than having to be stuck in hyperspace while you learn how to know him again.

When you ask him to tell you the story of how the kid became more than a bounty, you can hear the smile in his agreement. Can hear how glad he is that you want to talk to him, that you want to know.

He tells you the whole thing, and another night, he tells you about the Purge.

You didn’t ask about that one, could never have. It’s an awful, agonizing story, and it leaves you raw. But it feels important that he shared it with you, allowed you to take on some of his pain, and bear witness to his sorrow.

One night, after a few of radio silence, he calls to tell you he’s in a town on Tatooine. There’s a sick anger in his voice as he describes the man who was not a Mandalorian and the agreement they made.

“Should have just killed him and taken it,” you grumble.

“I think he might be a good man,” Din admits.

It’s high praise, you think, coming from him. He might be the only good man you’ve ever met.

He promises to call after, and you don’t worry, even when several days go by.

You don’t.

The way your body feels warm for the first time in days when he finally calls has nothing to do with it.

You roll your eyes at his story, of how Vanth almost ruined the whole thing by refusing the Tuskens’ drink, of how he blows off defeating a krayt dragon as something simple. It surely wouldn’t have been without him, from the sounds of it.

Later, when he tells you the full story, you take back all of the compliments you had given his strategy and competency. (But you forgive him. He wasn’t wrong, really. You weren’t ready to hear it then.)

9 ABY - Winter

You tell him the things you held close before. The things you kept stitched up, that you thought would make you more of a person than an idea, if he knew them.

Some of them were the building blocks you knew would betray you—the day your parents died. The first time you sucked cock for food. Your first kill.

Stories you’d never shared and tried your best to forget.

Moreso, though, you try to share the little things. The things that you wouldn’t have had to share before when you lived your days side by side.

You bitch about bounties.

You gossip about your neighbor Moshi’s on-again-off-again relationship with the Rodian couple down the street (they’re on again right now—you know because you get a lot less sleep lately).

You tell him how you went to the market for new shoes and came back with a little gorg-shaped instrument that makes croaking sounds for the kid instead.

(“How loud is it?” he asks, with no small amount of apprehension. “Loud,” you tell him with a grin.)

He sulks a little the next time he calls. He wanted to see you before moving on, but the next lead was time-sensitive and drawn out.

“That’s too bad,” you say, voice soft and low.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” He almost restrains the hope in his voice.

You’d laugh, but you’re honestly a little nervous. But it’s easier to say this than any of the other things haunting your mind during those sleepless nights. “Oh, I don’t know. Been thinking a lot about having your cock in my mouth again.”

There’s a strangled groan from the other side of the comm. “Cyar’ika,” he warns.

“You don’t want me to get on my knees for you?”

“I do, but I can’t talk about this right now.”

“You don’t have to talk,” you say. “You can just listen.”

In the end, he has to lock himself in the fresher. When he can’t help but cum, you think you might understand why he likes to have power over you.

He does promise to get you back for it, though. If it’s supposed to be a threat, it’s not a very effective one.

But Din being Din, he throws you off balance. “Don’t you dare touch yourself until I get there,” he says after. “If—if that’s still alright.”

A shudder runs through you. “Yes, sir,” you whisper. It aches in your throat on the way out, but you’re not afraid.

He means to tease you next time. Instead, you know something’s wrong as soon as he calls.

He deflects. He’s not ready to think about it, about Bo-Katan Kryze and what she had said about his people. You let him change the subject without pushing it, but he knows you’re not happy about it.

And he knows that not knowing will be worse for you. That you’ll think he just doesn’t want to talk to you. That you’ll simply shut him back out.

So he tells you. He tells you how angry he is at them for their disrespect. “It’s got to do with why our people were so divided before,” he admits. “I can accept that they have different beliefs about what it means to be a Mandalorian. But—”

“But they didn’t have to be such bitches about it! She straight up said ‘cult’?”

He laughs. Your righteous indignance soothes his anger. “You going to fight her for me, sweetheart?”

“What, you don’t think I could take her?”

“Well, she’s got head-to-toe beskar.”

“But she takes the helmet off, so all ll I have to do is punch her in the face.”

He can’t help but laugh again, grinning foolishly in the empty hull of the Crest.

“You know, you’re being pretty rude to someone ready to fight a trained warrior for disrespecting you.”

“I’m not. I just—thank you.”

“You’ve lost it.” You roll your eyes when he just laughs again.

“I might have,” he admits when he’s settled down. It wasn’t really funny, after all. But the abrupt switch from betrayed fury to the overwhelming affection made him feel happier than he had in a long time.

“Hey,” he says, suddenly soft and serious.

“What?”

“I miss you.” It was the first time he had said anything of the sort on these calls. But the danger of setting off your alarms, of causing you to run, seemed so much less these days.

You’re quiet for a moment. You let the feeling sink in and breathe through it. It’s okay, you remind yourself, it’s not a dangerous thing. He’s not asking you to run away with him.

He’s not asking you for anything.

“Yeah, I miss you, too,” you say. You’re quiet, like it’s a secret, and you guess it kind of was. A secret you’ve spilled now, and can’t just wash away.

He doesn’t know what to say. He said it because he wanted you to hear it, not because he ever imagined you’d admit it, too.

But he doesn’t have to figure it out. You surprise him again, and ask, “How far is Corvus?”

“From Batuu? I’m not sure. I’ll look it up later.”

“No, I meant from you, like how long until you get there.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not going there first. I’m coming to you.”

“Are you sure? Don’t delay your mission just because I—”

“I’m not delaying it because you miss me. I’m delaying it because there’s time and I miss you. The nav was set before I called.”

You meet him at the docking bay. Well, you time your dinner around his estimated arrival, but it’s basically the same thing. A compromise you made with yourself.

Rather than waiting there, feeling stupid in public, or waiting in your apartment, still feeling stupid but alone, you’d just get something to eat. Still, you can’t help but watch out for the Crest on the horizon. When you spot it, the nausea you’ve been fighting in the four days since he told you he was coming returns tenfold.

It doesn’t take him long to find you, sliding into the seat beside you. It’s all very smooth, the way he wraps an arm around your waist and presses his helmet briefly to your forehead.

You flush and try to focus on your tip yip and grains.

“You know,” he says, letting you go so you can eat. “If you want to fight people for disrespecting me, start with the di’kut trying to pass that stew off as Mandalorian. It’s a joke.”

You cover your mouth when you laugh so you don’t drop rice all over. “Oh, I know. I told him there was no way it was really Mandalorian. It was edible. My face didn’t even come close to melting off.”

He shakes his head, bumping his shoulder against yours. “It’s not my fault you can’t handle it.”

“Maybe you’re just a bad cook.”

“You never complained about anything else I made.”

“Well, yeah, almost anything’s better than ration packs.”

“It’s supposed to hurt,” he insists. “That’s what makes it tiingilar. It can’t be called tiingilar if it doesn’t make your sinuses burn.”

You grin up at him, eyes bright, before the look falls abruptly off your face, and you turn back to your food.

He’s not sure what he’s done.

But you take a minute, take a breath, and swallow down the terror. “Sorry, I got a little overwhelmed. It’s still weird, you know. To see you,” is what you finally say.

“It’s okay.”

From anyone else, you’d bristle at the platitude, but from Din… well, you know he means it. It really is just okay. You set down your spork. “He asleep?” You nod at the closed pram.

“Yeah, just fell asleep before we landed. Should be out for a while.”

Another grin creeps across your face, sly and pleased. “So, we’ve got a few hours?”

His fingers twitch into fists for a moment. “You, um. Are you done eating?”

You laugh, standing up and closing the lid of the takeout box. By the time he stands, you’re walking down the road. “You coming or what?”

He catches up with you easily, the pram trailing silently behind. “You first,” he promises, taking your free hand in his.

After he parks the pram in the living room, he stops and studies you, head tilted. “We don’t have to,” he starts. “I didn’t—I want to spend time with you, it doesn’t—”

“Din,” your voice is soft as you approach him, winding your arms around his neck. “I don’t think you’ve been talking to me practically every night for months, all just to get your dick wet.”

“I don’t want to screw this up.”

You don’t know what to say, so you pull down on his neck until he leans forward. You press your forehead to his helmet.

His hands find your waist and hold tight. For a moment, you find peace in the solidity of him after only having his voice for so long.

His embrace feels like coming home.

After several reassurances that yes, you did want this, he finally beckoned you to your bedroom without a sound. You found yourself knelt between his thighs at the end of the bed, moving on instinct with him and reading his intent in the line of his body.

“Open,” he says, voice soft but firm.

You obey. The command has you a little dizzy, and how is this so easy? So easy to slip right back into your place at his feet, so easy to just listen.

“Oh, cyar’ika,” he lifts your chin with two gloved fingers, “You want to be so good for me, don’t you?” He’s close enough like this that you can hear the way he croons, voice velvet beneath the crackle of the helmet.

You give a small nod, not wanting to knock his hand away. He rewards you by sliding it up to cup your cheek in his palm. You waver, but don’t melt completely, not yet.

“I know,” he says, running his thumb over your tongue. The glove is rough and metallic, and you whimper with the effort of keeping your jaw stretched open, aching to take whatever he’ll let you. He chuckles, shoving it further into your mouth.

“Go on then,” he says with a slight tip of his helmet. Immediately, you wrap your lips around his thumb, gently licking and sucking on the coarse tip, pushing it deeper so you can reach the leather at his knuckle.

“That’s it. You feel better already?”

You groan around your mouthful, eyes falling shut. He shifts his grip on your chin to the other hand in order to thrust the digit deeper, brushing against the roof of your mouth. It tickles in the worst way, and you attempt to choke down the cough by swallowing more of him. He pulls his thumb from your mouth.

Your heart sinks, but the whine that sneaks out is muffled by two long fingers, two long, bare fingers that are unceremoniously shoved down your throat. He curls them a little, pressing down on the back of your tongue, and lets out a soft groan when you fight the urge to gag by swallowing hard, the soft walls clenching around his fingers.

“There you go,” he whispers, bringing the other hand—now also bared—to hold the side of your face. Between the feeling of his skin against your cheek and the salty taste of his fingers on your tongue, you don’t even notice as you start to slip. Eyes fluttering shut. Drool leaking between his fingers from your stretched lips. He continues to murmur, but you hear little beyond the rumble of his voice.

He taps his hand lightly against your cheek, just firm enough to be on the sharp side. You blink, taking in the way he’s leaning back, head cocked to the side. He pulls the fingers out of your mouth and just sits there for a second.

Oh kriff. He asked you something. “Um,” and your voice creaks a little, “what?”

He shakes his head, neither cruel nor dismissive. “Cyar’ika,” the baritone is a notch lower, “I need you to stay with me for now.” His thumb rubs circles on your cheek. “I’ll help you down when we’re ready.”

“Okay,” you say, little more than a whisper.

“What do you say?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” His cock throbs a little when a shudder runs through you at the praise.

He can’t wait any longer. He doesn’t think you can, either. You're staring at the line of his cock through his flightsuit.

Despite his urgency, he moves slowly, making sure you’re following his hands as they rub over his length through the fabric. He chokes back a moan and is rewarded for his silence by hearing yours.

Your mouth is still open. Waiting. Your hands are on your knees, fingernails digging in through your trousers.

He pulls his cock out, and you whimper, but don’t falter. “Look at you,” he murmurs, holding himself in one hand and your chin in the other.

He doesn’t make you wait longer, can’t. He holds you in place, groaning as he settles himself on your tongue.

You moan at the taste, and he takes the opportunity to grab your hair and thrust in. You gag but don’t tap out, instead pushing forward to take him deeper.

“Fuck,” he moans, already panting with the effort to hold back. He tries to hold still, to let you take what you need from him. He can feel the way you’re still trying to pay penance for a sin he doesn’t think you’ve committed. He doesn’t like it, but it’s less desperate than when you begged him to hurt you for it, so he lets you offer yourself this way. It’s safer, controlled.

And he can’t say he’s not enjoying being the focus of your worship.

You think fleetingly of him asking you to stay present, and grab at his hand while you drool around his cock. With his fingers in your grasp, you tug a little and whine, throat fluttering around him.

“Go ahead, ner kar’ta,” he says, clasping your hand in his and stroking the other through your hair. “I’ve got you.”

So when you start feeling like you’ll float away, you let it happen. Your mind quiets in the way only he has ever helped you achieve, and with his hands tethering you, you give yourself to him completely.

He fucks into your mouth roughly, now. You take everything he gives, and more, still licking and sucking when he allows. When he abruptly pulls out, you whine but don’t move, swaying a little where you kneel, eyes closed.

“Up, cyar’ika,” he says, and helps you climb onto the bed. You peer up at him as he arranges you how he wants, arms above your head with your hands clasped, knees bent and spread wide at the end of the mattress.

He turns the light off.

“Oh, fuck,” you whisper.

The hiss of his helmet follows. Your window is closed, curtains drawn, and no light sneaks into the room. His hands find your thighs and squeeze, reassuring you of his closeness, and giving you warning as he sinks to his knees and licks from your cunt to your clit with no hesitation.

His hands slide down to hold you open, and it doesn’t take long before you’re begging. You had already been soaked from sucking his cock, anyway.

He pulls back minutely. “I don’t know, cyare, you weren’t very nice, teasing me the other night.”

“Please, sir, I’m sorry,” you cry.

His thumb flicks at your clit. “I’m just teasing you, pretty girl. Cum all you want tonight. I’ve got five years' worth to collect.”

And who the fuck just says things like that? But you don’t consider it long, because the second his tongue is back on you, you cum, crying his name.

It sounds just as irresistible as he imagined. He’s already starving, but it makes him ravenous.

He pulls two more orgasms from you before he stands up and sheathes his cock in your warm cunt, swearing as you bear down around him, pulling him in.

“Such a good girl,” he bends over you, your legs around his waist, and presses his lips to every inch of your skin that he can reach. His teeth catch on the line of your neck and the curve of your breast before capturing your bottom lip, pulling you open for him to push inside your mouth. He consumes without restraint, gorging himself on your moans and cries.

When he buries himself as deep as possible and cums, you join him, enveloping him in the heat of your release. He stays rooted inside you, looming over you, as you shake and start to cry.

It’s wrong, though.

It doesn’t feel like the way you used to crack open under his fingers and let him carve out all your distress. It’s not a burst of catharsis or a moment of blossoming under the deluge.

“Cyar’ika,” he cups your cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” you plead between sobs that wrack your whole body. “I’m sorry. I thought I could do this, but I can’t.”

He carefully extracts himself and lays beside you, gathering you into his chest. “It’s okay. I understand,” he says, even though he thinks maybe something inside him isn’t going to survive this.

You don’t hold him back, arms folded into the space between you. But you do bury your face into him and sob until you can breathe again.

“Din,” you whimper. “I’m so sorry.”

“Can you tell me why?” he asks. He presses a kiss into your hair, though he knows he shouldn’t, not now.

You let out a shaky sigh that threatens to crack into a new round of cries. You shouldn’t let him; you should stop him, but the sobs get stuck in your throat and fade when he kisses you.

It gives you the nerve to speak. “I love you.”

He freezes, baffled. “What?”

“I love you, Din. I thought I could ignore everything and be happy with whatever you could give me, but I can’t do it again. I can’t.” You also can’t stop talking, now that you’re finally admitting it all to him and to yourself. “There’s no place for me in your life, and I just. I’m not doing that to myself. I can’t watch you leave again.”

“So come with me,” he whispers, both your hands clasped in his. It’s still flawlessly dark, but he has his sweaty forehead against yours, and you can feel the curve of his nose with your own. He steals a kiss. “Please, cyare.”

“My whole life is here,” you tell him again, but it feels like a lie with the way your lips chase his for more. Your apartment is here. Your possessions are here. But there wasn’t anything you couldn’t walk away from. That wasn’t really the issue.

“So keep it. Keep the apartment, the connections. We’ll come back after.”

“Din, I—” you try again. The words are scrambling to leave you, only restrained by the horrible anxiety of having to hear the truth spoken aloud.

“Tell me exactly what you’re afraid of, cyare. I can help. We’ve always been stronger together.”

“What happens after?”

“After what?”

“I don’t know. After. When you go home, and I can’t go with you. I can’t do the same thing again, Din; I’m not made for it. Not for what you’re asking me to give in between.” It wouldn’t—couldn’t be casual, this time. Not with the way his love for you has survived the last five years. And if you’re really honest, not with the way your love for him has survived, too.

It’s a petrifying thought. Except it isn’t quite. Not anymore. Maybe it’s why you’re confident in these boundaries, ready to admit you aren’t capable of the same untethered companionship. You’ve loved and lost him enough to know it has to be all or nothing.

And he can’t give you all. So it has to be nothing.

His shaky breath floods across your lips. “What if you could go with me?”

You sit back a little, but don’t pull your hands from his. His thumb is tapping against your knuckle. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to think I’m putting any pressure on you. I just want to—it’s just an option, okay?”

“What’s an option, Din? You’re making me nervous.”

He takes another deep breath with a slow exhale. “I think I’ve told you before, but being a Mandalorian is a Creed. A choice. There are no rules about who can or can’t swear it, as long as they’re committed.” He pauses, and when you don’t react, he adds, “and you can walk away at any time. It doesn’t have to be until death. You just can’t come back if you leave.”

You do let go of his hands, now. Not because you’re pulling away from him, but because what you think he’s trying to say is overwhelming. You bury your face in your palms and try to parse his words.

“I’m sorry, that’s—I shouldn’t ask that much of you.”

You put a finger up and remember that he can’t really see. “Shh, just give me a second, okay?”

You mull the concept around. It seems like such a monumental thought, an idea of incredible ridiculousness.

But really, what would change about your life? You would hunt. You would carry a small arsenal of weapons.

What would you lose? The ability to show your face?

It meant nothing in comparison to what you could gain.

“What if I went through everything, and then you decide you don’t want me?”

“That won’t happen.”

“Din. I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“No, ugh,” you grind your teeth. “I need to know, realistically.”

“Realistically? Then when you kick my ass for it, you’ll be in full beskar, and it’ll be a fair fight.”

You can’t help but laugh, even if it's a weak, shaky thing stolen from your breath.

“Cyar’ika. I have no intention of being apart from you if I can help it. But I promise that if something were to happen, there would still be a place for you with the Mandalorians. We don’t abandon our own.”

It doesn’t quite compute. He knows that. Knows the way that even before your parents died, there was no one else. Everyone always willing to cut you open and take. But, if you do this, you’ll learn.

And he wants so badly to give that to you. A family. One way or another.

He takes advantage of your silence, rolling onto his back and pulling you against him, tucked into his arm, where you should be. He kisses your hair and rubs a hand over your back, nails gliding gently over your shoulder blades. Every touch you let him steal while you think over his proposition gives him hope.

You’re not running. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

But you don’t answer him that night. Instead, you let yourself be lulled to sleep by his warm body and soothing motions. He takes it as a good sign when you drift off.

The kid wakes first in the morning. It’s for the best, since he forgot to put his helmet back on when he fell asleep. Din regretfully slips out of bed, tucking you in. He helps himself to your kitchen and starts a pot of caf before working up a breakfast.

He’s frying eggs when he hears you up and moving around the bedroom. He keeps to his cooking, trying to temper his expectations by reminding himself that you very well may slip out the window.

But you don’t. You come out of the bedroom and sit on one of the metal stools tucked under your countertop.

“Good morning, cutie,” you say to the baby, who is sitting in your sink with the faucet running, filling a bowl, and dumping it out over and over. The drain is open, making sure no water accumulates, and he seems fascinated by the flow. He abandons it, however, when he sees you, cooing and reaching his hands out to you.

“I don’t know, buddy; let me grab a towel first.”

Din tosses you one from your drawer without breaking away from his task.

“Look at that,” you tell the baby. “Like magic.”

Din snorts under the helmet. If only you knew.

Actually, he thinks, he should probably tell you.

But later. When he’s not struggling to keep focus, pretending like his hands aren’t shaking, like he’s not waiting while you hold his heart in your palms and decide what to do with it.

While you dry the kid off and let him climb on your shoulders and head, he plates the meal, setting his own aside.

The kid lunges for the plate, but you catch him. “No way, it’s still hot. Be patient,” you tell him.

Din catches himself staring right as you do.

“What?” you say.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head and pries the kid off you, untangling his little claws from your sleep-addled braid so you can eat in peace.

You thank him quietly when he sets the plate in front of you, and you start to eat, though you mostly just push the food around with your fork.

“Did you mean it?” you ask finally.

“Completely.” His voice is thick and heavy with hope.

“You want me to become a Mandalorian.”

It’s not a question, but he answers it anyway. “Yes. I want you to come home with me. I want to be by your side, always, if you’ll have me.”

You hum, falling back into thought, and eat your breakfast. When you’ve finished, you push the plate away and stand up. “I’m going to get dressed. Let me know when you’re done eating.”

He knocks on your door ten minutes later, having taken an extra few minutes to wash the dishes. When you open it, you’re in one of your go-to hunting outfits, and your pack is strapped to your back.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Completely. Take me home, Din.”

*title from "My Blue Heaven" by Taking Back Sunday

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian fic #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #mando x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian smut #dom din djarin #make it hurt verse

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fandomwave · 4 months

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"No Guys I Swear You Have To Go Out Of Your Way To Find It!" And why I don't love this take

This is about the Ha Ha funny Coffin Game which includes but isn't limited to topics of: Cannibalism, Murder, and the core topic of this little rant, Incest.

feel totally free to skip this if that's a hard pass from you! No shame in knowing what you're about including things you'd rather not engage with.

"I know what I'm about"

Good! So this entire little rant? Vent? Observation? Comes from the recent uptick I've seen of posts in the Tcoaal tag where people come in to defend the game with more or less this argument:

"No no guys the incest is really easy to avoid. You have to go out of your way to find it. The game even WARNS you that this is a bad route. Its nowhere in any part of the game beyond this. Honestly it's just not there actually"

And I get the want to defend the game as being more than 'The funny Incest Game'. I agree that The Coffin Of Andy and Leyley is WAY MORE than just the funny incest game. To reduce the game down to that would be a disservice to the writing that went into this game. Andrew and Ashley deserve way more and Numlie themselves deserves better credit than that.

h o w e v e r

However, I think it's also doing more harm than good to try and sweep their dynamic under the rug as something that is 'easily avoidable' and 'totally optional' I hate to break the news but Andrew's romantic inclinations towards Ashley are pretty obvious in Chapter 1. They certainly aren't as obvious as they are in Chapter 2, I'll give everyone that. But they are there, and to act like they aren't... Not to mention the defense EVERYONE gives so readily is that 'The Game Warns You This Is A Bad Thing To Do' is a lot more complicated than it might appear on first blush. First and foremost the 'narrator' is the one to say: "Somehow it seems like a highly questionable idea to take this route"

which imho is a far cry from "This is the bad end" "This has incest" "you are probably a bad person for taking this ending" that some seem to argue is the 'warning' you get. Secondly we should remember it isn't 'you' the narrator is talking to here. Effectively it's still Ashley first and foremost. When Ashley responds 'I know what I'm about' that is also the game showing us that Ashley knows what this means and still wants it.

Enthusiastic consent if you will

So what's the point to this little post eh?

Well I think it's doing a little more harm than good to both the story but also anyone interested in checking the game out who might actually be genuinely triggered by such topics. Tcoaal has the siblings romantic inclinations laced into the story from point A to B. It's impossible to avoid actually. You can go the entire game ignoring any acts of kindness towards Andrew as Ashley or Ashley as Andrew, and you'll always get the scenes of Andrew playing with Ashley's hair. You will always get the text informing the player that Andrew fakes panic attacks to share a bed with Ashley. You will always get the CG of Andrew's hand in Ashley's belt loops. You will always hear the voicemail 'You think you're better than me because you can fuck him and I can't' from Ashley concerning Andrew. You will always get the hints from Mrs Graves that she knows they are too close but did nothing to curb that behavior.

It is wholly unavoidable no matter what route you take. Burial, Decay, Questionable or not.

I think to argue that it's just a silly little ending you can get does a disservice to people who might genuinely be upset by that, and I think more than anything a game that is at the very least talking about incest rather brazenly deserves the warnings it earns!

I love this game to bits, anyone who's been within ear shot of me has had to deal with me talking their fucking ear off about the Sibling Abuse Simulator. I've gone on in excruciating detail how I think Tcoaal's writing has been done dirty by saying that Andrew and Ashley's romance is just a 'ha ha shock ending', comparing it to the siblings ending in something like Corpse Party (a game where the incest ending is 100% totally avoidable, and the story has exactly nothing to do with incest as a topic, and is only brought up if you trigger that ending. One where I agree with the argument that it's just there for shock value)

Anyways I see where people are coming from, I can understand the want to defend the game as more than the sum of it's parts and I agree that it does suck that this seems to be the thing everyone is hyper-focusing on in terms of it's breach of containment. I get it man, I really do. It deserves so much better than being reduced down the way it has by the greater internet.

But to say it's avoidable.. I dunno it's like taking the dragons out of Game of Thrones. The story as a whole about so much more than the dragons.. However you'd have a fundamentally different story if they weren't there, wouldn't you?

#the coffin of andy and leyley #Tcoaal #Sorry to all my followers: I see horror game with fucked up topics. I play horror game with fucked up topics.

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raccoonfallsharder · 10 months

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fanfiction masterlist i guess ♡

*this masterlist is OLD! find the new masterlist here

here's what you need to know about what is behind this cut: lots of smut, always with feelings and fluff, praise kinks, dirty talk, maybe some light d/s, enthusiastic consent. a few clean headcanons/minifics & fan art of your amazing OCs

(it's all rocket raccoon, all the time) also, please let me love your OCs (doodle requests temporarily paused)

If you would like to be added to the fanfiction update taglist (or removed), please let me know via comment, message, or ask! ♡

recently updated

headcanon 8 - rocket, lylla, & drax [NEW posted 9/17] headcanon 9 - dad glasses [NEW posted 9/21]

Reconnaissance for Beginners: An Instruction Manual (Fourteenth Visit) [ONESHOT. added 9/18] Part Three of Domestic Scenes in Space Travel

Chapter 1/6 Year Zero: Seed [NEW posted 9/24] florescence ❀ (a meetgroot)

Chapter XIV. Exactly Like a Flower. in which comfort is shared. [WIP 9/27] Chapter XV. Galaxy-Breaking Shit. in which more comfort is shared, and life is good. Briefly. [WIP 10/5] Window Across the Galaxy

I can't keep up with updating my kinktober prompts on a daily basis (I'm honestly amazed I've managed to keep up with the writing as well as I have and I've only been doing this for a few days) So for now, please find them with the tag #rfh kinktober and when the month is over I'll make a masterlist. [NEW all month] based on @flightlessangelwings’ Kinktober 2023 Prompt List

[complete works behind the cut ♡]

spoilers: I have a preferred trope/formula that I lean into quite hard (girl falls first; raccoon falls harder) and while I do really love tragic fanfic, I firmly believe rocket's suffered enough of that so it's only happy endings here (even if it takes a minute to get there). Well, more or less, anyway.

Domestic Scenes in Space Travel

reader x rocket fluff, medium-burn?? (at least for Part One), smut. comics-based but you don't need any comics background knowledge to read this - you just need to enjoy fluff + smut + rocket (and be 18 i guess). multiple parts. see notes for summary + warnings.

The Very Boring Adventures of Space Pilot & Sweatshirt Girl Part One of Domestic Scenes in Space Travel [COMPLETE 5/5 chapters] Summary: In Rocket Raccoon: Grounded (2016) / Issue #3, Rocket asks a stranger on the ferry to "make sure nobody does anything weird" to him while he naps, and the stranger just, like, abandons him while he's sleeping?? get in loser we're gonna fix it Chapter One (The First Visit) Chapter Two (The Second Visit) Chapter Three (The Third Visit) Chapter Four (The Fourth Visit) Chapter Five (The Fifth Visit) complete post - The Very Boring Adventures of Space Pilot & Sweatshirt Girl

Outer Space Safety & Spaceship Maintenance Training (Ninth Visit) Part Two of Domestic Scenes in Space Travel [Oneshot. COMPLETE 8/21] Sequel to The Very Boring Adventures of Space Pilot & Sweatshirt Girl [domestic fluff, dirty talk, oral sex - mind the ao3 tags.] Summary: Study Night. or - why study when you can seduce your hot local Space Pilot into oral? When you were a kid, you imagined yourself growing up, working a cool job, living in a cute house, getting a big dog, marrying, and having kids of your own. You've currently got none of those things, but you are getting regularly railed by a raccoon-shaped cosmic adventurer, and he's currently showing you around his spaceship. Which is kinda better than anything you could have dreamed up for yourself. [comics-inspired, though i'm fucking around with timelines/continuity and you really don't need any comics-context to ride this ride] complete post - Outer Space Safety & Spaceship Maintenance Training

Reconnaissance for Beginners: An Instruction Manual (Fourteenth Visit) Part Three of Domestic Scenes in Space Travel [Oneshot. COMPLETE 9/18] [domestic fluff, dirty talk, orgasm delay, bf/gf silliness. - mind the ao3 tags.] Summary: Date Night. in a gesture of true romance, rocket takes you to a dive bar. of all the stories he's shared with you, his favorites are the ones where he gets saved by the space princess. not that he'd tell you that. ˖⁺｡˚⋆˙✧⋆｡°✩☼⋆｡°✩☽︎ loosely based on Rocket (2017): The Blue River Score. domestic bf/gf silliness & fluff. extensive smut. comics-knowledge isn't needed but HIGHLY recommend starting at the beginning of this collection for context (The Very Boring Adventures of Space Pilot & Sweatshirt Girl).

florescence ❀ (a meetgroot)

[WIP: Year 0/5] [mcu-based, slight au, medium-burn, eventual smut circa chapter four. tentative allies to friends to lovers. the middle is angsty but there are only happy endings here. no use of y/n.] Summary: “The only chance we got is to get to the other side of the universe as fast as we can and maybe, just maybe, we'll be able to live full lives before that whack-job ever gets there.” Rocket & Groot leave their friends behind on Knowhere, despite the latter’s protests, and end up hiding out on a nothing-planet (with a non-extradition policy) at the edge of the Shi’ar Galaxy. It was the flowers that drew you in.

Chapter 1/6 Year Zero: Seed [NEW posted 9/24]

Blackmail Material

[WIP: Chapter 2/4] reader x rocket pwp with feelings; smut & fluff & love confessions. MCU-based, post-Endgame, friends-to-lovers. Summary: a classic tale of "this fuckin raccoon found your sex-toy." as per usual: girl falls first; raccoon falls harder. see notes for summary + warnings.

Chapter One: Blackmail Material Chapter Two: Self-Sufficience [NEW posted 8/29] Chapter Three: Firearms over Flowers ???

Window Across the Galaxy

[WIP: Chapter 15/25+] [NEW chapter posted 10/5] rocket x oc angst/hurt/comfort; slow burn + eventual smut with feelings. MCU-based. slight AU starting pre-GOTG volume 1. enemies to friends to lovers but only one of these idiots thinks they're enemies. see notes for summary + warnings. could become 1 part of a 2-part series, if I have the energy/inspiration. Summary: Rocket is captured by a Ravager crew hoping to get rich off the excessively large bounty on his head. Throwing a wrench in everyone’s plans is the Terran girl they hired to do some freelance assessing on a recent haul of goods they’ve seized from a Xandaran luxury liner. Oops.

Chapter I. A Delicacy. in which our reluctant heroes meet atop a crate of Sovereign porn in the bowels of a Ravager ship. Chapter II. Monster For A Pet. in which one hero wrestles with his inner Groot, and the other is quite possibly a moron. Chapter III. A Kindness.in which Rocket gets in his own damn way: not for the first time, and certainly not for the last. Chapter IV. Got There First. in which our heroes obtain an arsenal and street food. Chapter V. Things No-One Has Said Before. in which one hero refuses to babysit and the other refuses to leave. Chapter VI. Two and a Half Billion Units. in which we lean into the “they were roommates” trope. Jolie has misgivings, while Rocket has fantasies - about getting rich, of course. Chapter VII. I'm Here.in which we visit Knowhere. Chapter VIII. The Care & Feeding of Human Pets.in which our heroes practice breathing and we lean into a new trope: “there was (technically) one bed.” Chapter IX. Scrapmetal and a Dream. in which we redefine homemaking. Chapter X. Thin Fucking Ice. in which our heroes get fucked. Not in the good way. Chapter XI. Let It Be. in which Xandar is saved and good lives are lost. Chapter XII. So Much It Hurts. in which we try not to fuck up the vibes. Chapter XIII. Don’t Wait. in which a lost sister is found and Drax grapples with the concept of sarcasm. Chapter XIV. Exactly Like a Flower. in which comfort is shared. Chapter XV. Galaxy-Breaking Shit. in which more comfort is shared, and life is good. Briefly. [WIP 10/5]

Autopilot Systems Check [Oneshot. COMPLETE 9/3/2023] Est Word Count: 1409 reader x rocket soft fluff & domestica. MCU-based, post-Endgame i guess. Summary: reader wakes up in the middle of the night and rocket is nowhere to be found. drabble based on this post/inadvertent prompt.[complete post - Autopilot Systems Check]

Kinktober 2023

based on day 8 of @flightlessangelwings’ Kinktober 2023 Prompt List Kinktober Day 8: Turbulence. rocket needs you to hold. flarkin. still. [NEW 10/8]

Other Duties As Assigned

[WIP: ???] rocket x oc email romance/LDR (lol); slow burn + probable smut with feelings. Begins five months after The Snap. I don't have an intended outcome for this fic yet (just kind of rambling around) so this has the most uncertain publishing date. Summary: Natasha Romanoff is an administrative nightmare - a fact that does not go unnoticed by the (interim) captain of the Milano. First she demands that the remaining two Guardians of the Galaxy be reachable via a primitive Terran messaging system, and then she can't be bothered to read the frickin' emails. Thank fuck she's hired a new assistant.

Headcannons & Drabbles headcanon 1 - rocket & sex work headcanon 2 - rocket & occassional post-sex feelings headcanon 3 - quill & innocence/optimism headcanon 4 (minific/drabble) - rocket & nebula (2014) in endgame/post time-heist headcanon 5 (minific/drabble) - rocket & quill were scooped at the same time headcanon 6 - cinnamon roll peter quill continued headcanon 7 - rocket & nova corps headcanon 8 - rocket, lylla, & drax [NEW posted 9/17] headcanon 9 - dad glasses [NEW posted 9/21]

Fan Art of Your Amazing OCs (and maybe sometimes mine)

Rose (@love-for-faeries-go-burrrr ) & Moon (@glow-autumz) Thank you for letting me draw these two lovelies. You know I headcanon them as interdimensional besties ♡

Brita (@pretty-chips) is such a pure, delightfully fun character with record-store-clerk vibes. Thank you for letting me draw her. She is a glowing sunbeam-soul. ♡ another Brita wearing a terran t-shirt gifted to her by my oc, Jolie Spinner

Moon (@glow-autumz) Thank you again for letting me illustrate some of Moon's rad powers. i am OBSESSED. I appreciate so much you bringing her to life!

Chérie (Cherry) (@aliasrocket) I have a crush. 10/10 would attempt to flirt with (badly). Thank you so much for creating her and letting me doodle her!

Jolie (Window Across the Galaxy) - my gremlin child. just some scritchy-scratchy character concepts. feel free not to look if you want to imagine Jo in your own way. ♡ the "real" Jolie doodle - refined, finished, && in color

Fleuret (I think?) (@elegant-fleuret) is my personal caffeine deity. i now pray to her for the ability to scrap myself out of bed and deliverance from coffee crashes. she is also the dj of knowhere which is possibly the coolest fucking job in the universe and i would like to be her friend.

Star (@cleo-is-babygirl) is a pure fluffy little sundrop and a brilliant self-taught medic/surgeon. she is also the first tanuki/anthropomorphic animal i have drawn other than rocket so i was very nervous but i did my best. thank you for letting me try something new and expand my experience, friend!

Juno (@lazarel-3000) is one of my favorite OCs ever. she is everything. i want to be her && i want to date her (unfortunately she only has eyes for rocket).

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dcbtv · 8 months

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Title: The Best People in Life are Free

Author: You-cant-spell-subtext-without, DoctorProfessorSong

Artist: Nat

Songs (by era)

Midnights: Antihero

Speak Now: Haunted

Singles: Eyes Open (Hunger Games Soundtrack)

Reputation: Getaway Car

Fearless: White Horse

Debut: Picture to Burn

Evermore: Champagne Problems

Folklore: This is me Trying

Red: All Too Well (10 Min Version)

Lover: Daylight

1989: New Romantics

Posting date: October 2, 2023

Rating: Explicit

Any archive warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Top 10 main tags: Brothel AU, monsters are real, monsterfucking, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, special kids reimagined, blood freak Sammy, Demon Dean Winchester, wing kink, y’all should probably just assume there are references to a lot of kinks actually, it is a brothel

Summary

Strip clubs aren't the only business that runs on daddy issues. Welcome to the Den of Iniquity, the premiere brothel in Port Charles, where you can get service with a smile and a hell of a show - but the main attraction is Dean Winchester, a saucy and sassy courtesan hiding his family tragedies and shattered literary dreams with smooth moves and a give-em-hell attitude.

When President Shurley asks his formerly estranged son Cas to go undercover at the Den, he's less than equipped for success - down to his desperate cover story that he's a playwright despite knowing nothing about writing.

However, he finds himself significantly more enthusiastic after he meets Dean - who harbors a deep poet's soul beneath the surface of his glitzy work persona. They awaken the Muse - and each other, both on and beyond the brothel stage.

But Dean and Cas are both harboring secrets that threaten the precarious joy they've managed to find, and external forces in Port Charles may threaten any chance they have at both future and freedom. Will all be lost? Or will the show, as always, go on? Grab your lube, mind the tags, and join us for a spectacular musical journey we're all making up as we go.

Author tumblr: @doctorprofessorsong @you-cant-spell-subtext-without

Link to Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50418625/chapters/127388140

Artist tumblr: @milfycas

Link to Art: https://www.tumblr.com/milfycas/730109814503604224/here-is-my-art-submission-for-the-dcbtv-2023?source=share

#submission #deancas bang (taylor’s version)#destiel #dcbtv #swifties #swiftnatural #deancas #castiel #dean winchester #taylor swift #destiel fan art

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prismatoxic · 2 months

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hiiiiii :3

we're getting somewhere.......................

summary again, since it's been a bit since i posted an update:

When home no longer feels like home, Chilchuck makes the tough decision to move north to escape memories he'd rather leave behind. Though once largely made up of tall-men, there are towns and cities on the northern continent that have opened their doors to races of all kinds, and that seems like the easiest sort of place to try and make a new life. There's even a branch of a tailoring company Chilchuck admires that might be willing to hire him. Except life outside of a strictly half-foot community is hardly as idyllic as it seems. Everything is too large, and too loud, and getting a good job requires things he couldn't get back home. Then an opportunity falls into Chilchuck's lap - an enthusiastic amateur wildlife photographer offers to pay him for his assistance in capturing pictures of the monsters roaming the countryside. It sounds like a lousy job, but unfortunately, the idea is less bruising to his ego than the other options he has. There's no telling if this new life will be sustainable. One thing's for certain, though: Chilchuck is lonely, and his eccentric new employer is all too eager to be his friend.

this is a modern fantasy au where the world is the same, but modern (and all the changes i feel that would cause). that means all the races are still here, magic is still a thing, and obviously, monsters are present.

it's also heading towards smut/kink territory but has not arrived yet. please don't be surprised when that happens :'3

#chilaios #toxwrites

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monstrousvoice · 1 year

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Sleep Easy

Fandom: Elden Ring

Relationship: Morgott X Fem!Tarnished

AN: I'm sick as a dog and plagued by horny thoughts. I do not condone doing anything like this in real life, its just a really self indulgent kink of mine to be used and taken advantage of by monster men.

This is also an un-official sequel to this post.

Hopefully this will tide ya'll over while I work on chapter 2 of Court of the Immortals. (Next chapter will have Boc in it btw 👀🥰)

Tags: Smut, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Dubious Consent, Enthusiastic Consent, Consent is not spoken about but very much given, Somnophilia, Consensual Somnophilia, Drugged Sex, Tarnished being into that shit, Slight Yandere Morgott, just a pinch, Pining, Mutual Pining, Possessive Behavior, Breeding Kink, Pregnancy Kink, Cum Inflation, Morgott being a pervert, Female Tarnished

Read it on AO3!

It's been days since he caved and started stealing your clothing, and continued to do so, as shameful as it was…It was torturous, this hunger you started in him. He wanted to feel your velvet heat around his cock, squeezing his knot, so bad, but he didn't want to take the chance of confessing. He wasn’t brave enough to face your rejection.

And one night, when he returns to his office, feeling worn out and frustrated over your constant teasing and his lack of courage, he spies one of his elixir potions on his office desk. It's his sleep potion, one that the castle physician makes for him due to his nightmares.

And he has an idea.

The next evening, you're working in his study together, as usual. You've been teasing him all day with light touches to his broad frame, and whispered words that he knows have to be mocking in some way.

"Morgott my king, would you ever want to have children? I think I'd like to, with the right person. The tiny pitter patter of little feet down the hall..." You mumbled as you pressed against his back. He could feel the soft cushion of your breasts through his robes, so tantalizing...His head filled with images of you waddling down the castle hallways with an engorged belly, your hand being pulled by a much smaller one as children surrounded you and demanded your attention.

You, sitting on his cock above him, cupping your belly and begging him to move your hips for you, please my love I need you to fuck me, please-

His quill snapped in his grip.

He saw your expression out the corner of his eye, mouth open in an adorable 'o' as you stared at the broken stationary.

"Excuse me." He had growled, standing from his desk to grab a new quill (and get away from your sweet cloying scent-deep breaths Morgott, deep breaths-)

And you still continued, even during your shared meal.

You sat across from him, wearing a dress with a deep 'v' that showed off the supple curve of your tits and tummy, crossing an arm underneath the swell of your breasts to push them up even further for him to stare at. You're talking about the things you saw on your ride around the land today, and he still finds himself enraptured by your words.

"I'm glad to see less and less bandit camps lately. I think it's a very good step in the right direction."

Even as he listens to you talk and is distracted constantly by your dress, he's worried his nerves betray his plan. His golden eye darts down to the soup you're enjoying, one sip at a time from your perfect lips.

You don't comment on it tasting any different than usual.

He can see the sleep potion taking effect however, the way your words slow down as you hide more and more yawns from his intense gaze. At one point, you catch his eye as he watches you swallow another mouthful. You smile at him.

"Thank you for ordering my soup for me Morgott. I don't know what the chef did, but it tastes especially yummy tonight."

"...It may be a new ingredient." He offers hesitantly.

"Maybe so...I hope to taste it again soon~" You practically purr at him. He swallows.

Do you know...? No, you couldn't. If you did you would be outraged, right? Jump from your chair to throw the steaming liquid in his face and run away from here, from his perversion. If you had any idea, you would be long gone by now.

You sip another spoonful.

It isn't long before you're saying goodnight through a yawn.

"Oh-dear, I don't know what happened. I felt so energetic earlier and now I'm-" Another stifled yawn, "Hmm, I think I'll head to bed Morgott." You stand from your seat and make your way over to him. You lean against his broad shoulder, your face getting close - so impossibly close - to his cheek.

"Goodnight my King~" You whisper, a soft pressure on his cheek following your words. It isn't until you're closing the door behind you that he realizes you kissed him.

His heart beats wildly in his chest, blood roaring through his veins. His fingers come up to caress the spot your sweet lips had been against a moment before, and he feels his soul thump in his chest.

He thinks about his plan for tonight and feels the guilt settle at the base of spine, swirling and bubbling at his terrible sins.

He slams a fist against the hardwood table. No, no. Guilt or not this is the only way he can truly have you. It's just for one night. Just tonight, he'll have his fill and be done with the whole situation. He can keep the sweet memory of how you feel for the rest of his life and you'll be free to go on with your life, unaware you had been tainted by him.

You could even fall in love with some lucky fool who would never treat you as well as he would, but you'd be happy and unaware of what he stole from you. Just...one night of pleasure.

The only thing he ever let himself want before.

He waits a half hour before he attempts anything.

In the cover of night, the servants are sleeping. Guards watch the hallways, but none so much as flinch at seeing his hulking form. They haven't been spooked by him in...years now. What a strange thought.

Your room is unguarded. Normally he would want a guard patrolling this hallway even more strictly than usual, your precious sleeping form is vulnerable to attack after all. But tonight, he has them scheduled to come later during the night, so no one may see him slip inside your dark room.

As he closes the door behind him, his sensitive ears catch the sound of your soft, gentle breathing. His nose catches something else.

Arousal.

Thick and cloying, the scent permeates your room through and through. He feels dizzy from the sudden onslaught of scent, blood rushing south to swell in his cock. It's already half hard from the smells alone, his sheathe pulling back to reveal its pink head to the cool air. He bites his bottom lip hard, grabbing himself and hissing through his fangs at how sensitive he feels. Precum smears across his palm and drips to the floor, a thick vein along the underside of his cock throbs in time with his heartbeat.

By the Greater Will, what were you doing? What would prompt you to-...to smell like this before you went to sleep?

He can't wait to think about it-his mind pushes the mystery away for another time, another place where your soft, pliant form isn't waiting to be ravished by him. He all but rips his cloak off as he climbs up your mattress, pulling himself to hover over you.

Your face is buried in your pillow as you lay on your stomach, your plush ass facing him. Without even thinking his hands find their way there, squeezing and playing with the flesh as you sleep onwards. You're covered by a thin sheet, unusual for the colder weather you've been having lately, but he doesn't have time to dwell on it. He pulls off the sheet, and his heart stops.

You're completely naked...except for a small satin pair of panties.

His breath leaves him in a rush, a low groan escaping his chest as his eye travels along the skin of your back. His hands join in, pushing and molding the skin beneath as he marvels at how soft and squishy you feel.

Curious, he slips his hands under you, lifting your chest up to squeeze and play with your tits. They feel just as soft as he imagined, and you don't stir from the movement. You lay prone and asleep, in a deep dream.

Satisfied you won't be waking up anytime soon, he lays you back down.

He sits himself carefully across your legs, moving downwards to get a better look at your hips and thighs. His fingers slid under the cloth covering you from him, his gray skin looks so right pressed against your own and tangled in your panties...

He pulls them down, the soft fabric sliding over your skin with no resistance till he stops at your knees. Moving back up, he places both hands back on your ass. You're so small and delicate compared to him-his palms easily cover the expanse of your hips.

It makes his cock throb.

He hooks his hands in between the folds of your cheeks and thighs and spreads them. The scent of your arousal hits his nose full force, and a deep, husky groan leaves him. Slick is leaking from your adorable cunt and all over your closed thighs, gooey strands webbing between lips and skin as the opening to your pussy flutters and squeezes around empty air.

He feels hypnotized by the sight.

Swallowing the drool collecting in his mouth, the Omen leans forwards and licks. Slick cream coats his tongue immediately, warm wetness greeting him. You don't stir from your sleep, still lying against your pillow.

Emboldened, Morgott presses his mouth firmly against your welcoming cunt, his thick tongue sliding out to rub against your folds as his lips suck along your flesh. His reward is more of your slick oozing out, your muscles fluttering against his tongue like a silent call for more. His chin is soaked in your combined juices and his drool, dripping to the sheets below you.

His tongue moves farther down for a stronger lick when it rubs against your engorged clit. For the first time that night you react. Your hips jump as a squeak leaves you, and the Omen feels his blood turn to ice. He freezes in place as your hips drop back into his hold and a small sigh leaves you.

Carefully, he pulls himself away from the tasty treat offered to him to look you over. He leans up and close to your face, watching for any sign that the elixir has worn off and you're about to wake up.

Nothing.

You lay still and silent once more, face relaxed and calm. Breathing perhaps a bit faster than when he first started, but definitely still asleep. He breathes a sigh of relief, falling back to sit on his haunches as his shoulders droop.

You still manage to keep him on his toes, even now.

Morgott shook himself, ruffling his fur and lashing his tail. Foolish, so foolish of him. He's still so nervous about this because he knows how wrong it is.

A glance down at your glistening cunt and he knows that he can't back out now. He...he needs to finish this. To feel that sweet release of cumming deep in your womb, of your gummy walls squeezing him tight as he fucks you...

He moves back over your thighs, settling down comfortably on the soft fat of your legs. His tail wavers back and forth in the air behind him, muscles tense as he continues.

His cock is fully revealed now, pink and gray as it slips out of his sheathe with a slick sound of precum. He gives a sigh of relief as his knot finally pops free, the tension in his abdomen finally relieved. Strings of precum dribble over your skin, pooling in your folds and smearing everywhere his wandering hands massage.

His thumbs hook once more against the warm folds of your cunt, spreading them open to reveal your leaking hole. The muscles still flutter with arousal from his touch, looking so damn empty and fuckable...

You'll be filled soon though. He'll make sure of it.

With firm hands he grabs your hips, making sure no sudden movements from you mess this up. He lowers his throbbing cock towards you, rubbing against the sweet heat of your pussy. He throws his head back and pants into the night air, eye closing in bliss at the feeling.

So warm and soft...such a perfect little fuck hole for his cum, to breed full of his seed and start a line of heirs to the Lyndell throne...

Taking a steadying breath, the King looks down, entranced by the sight of his cock pressing against your opening. He's wanted to do this for so long now...To see his fat cock spread you wide and ruin your sweet cunt for any other man. You won't ever know he did this and yet, the next time you lay with any man, you'll feel the difference, feel how their cock doesn't stretch nearly enough, doesn't go deep enough to press against your womb the way his would.

You'd play with yourself and desperately wish to feel so full again...you'll think of him and cum on strangers' cocks all the while calling his name...

He uses a thumb to press his head against your tight hole, hissing at the squeeze. It seems like it's about to go in when-

It's pushed back out, sliding towards the front of your cunt and rubbing the spines lining his dick against your clit. He pulls back and tries again, and again, and again, each time being pushed back to rub against your sweet folds instead of inside.

The Omen hisses low and quiet, frustration making him impatient.

"Damn thee, little tarnished...of course such an adorable cunt would be so difficult to fuck-" Morgott adjusts himself on his knees, hands gripping your thighs and pulling them further apart. He grunts and pushes the head of his cock against your still too tight opening until finally, with a satisfying 'squish’, the fat head of his cock pushes through and slides inside like your cunt was made for him.

He moans low in his throat as his hips keep moving forward, his cock going deeper, deeper, deeper-

He catches himself from falling on top of you with a shaking hand landing on the pillow next to your face. He hovers above you, panting and shaking, eye closed as he experiences bliss for the first time. Under him, your sleeping form is trembling, your brow furrowing and your mouth open in a silent gasp as small pants leave you. Your hips give a weak buck against his when he finally bottoms out, cock head bumping against the opening of your womb. His ears strain to catch the sound of words leaving you in your sleep.

"M...mor-mmm..." You sigh, nuzzling further into your pillow.

The King sighs as well, dropping his forehead along the curve of your shoulder, pressing soft kisses to the skin under him. You're so beautiful...So beautiful and precious, so sexy and sweet and all his...all his...his...

He pulls his hips back, relishing the tight suction of your cunt refusing to let him leave, to keep him inside you, with you, and thrusts back in hard. The 'smack' of skin against furred skin echoes in your bedchamber followed by the harsh panting and bitten back moans of a desperate King trying his best to breed his chosen mate.

He wants it, wants it all. His left hand moves to grasp your limp one, fingers interlocking as he imagines a ring on your finger, one that's as bright and beautiful as you are. Doing this over and over until your womb is filled with his cum, swollen and heavy till you cry and beg for mercy from him, that you couldn't possibly take one more load in your full tummy. Laying together as his hands rub against the small bump you made together, daydreaming names for your future children as you drift off to sleep.

The fantasy he had this afternoon...of your belly big and round with his child, body changed from having multiple children. Your breasts, big and leaking milk, your body covered in sweet stretch marks for him to trace and kiss as he thanks you for bringing him the gift of life, of family. Your thighs, thick and warm against his ears as he eats your sensitive cunt out for hours at a time to prove his devotion to you.

To worship you like the goddess you are to him...

With a full body shudder he cums, hard, inside your waiting cunt. Fast, hard thrusts over and over as he growls through his teeth, biting his bottom lip so hard it splits and bleeds.

A stray tear falls down the Omen's cheek as he experiences mind blowing ecstasy and heartbreaking disappointment.

His breathing is harsh and fast as he comes down from his high. His eye finally opens to look at the work he's done, the mess he's made of you.

He's not disappointed.

White sticky cum leaks from your abused cunt, a noticeable bump in your opening from his swollen knot stuffing you full. He stares, mesmerized, and watches his cum slowly leak out more as his knot deflates, a small pool of viscous fluid mixing on the bedsheets under you.

Within seconds he starts thrusting again, visions of your womb stretched full of his cum filling his mind. He won't stop till his instinct to breed stops clawing at him.

When dawn breaks, he's no longer in your room. You wake up to the sound of songbirds outside your window, smiling to yourself after such a good sleep.

You are not at all surprised when the slightest movement has you gasping in ecstasy, your cunt spasming as thick globs of cum seep out from your well fucked hole. Your tummy feels bloated and full, and when you turn over and lay a hand over it, you smile at the feel of a noticeable bump under your palm.

Your fingers move down to rub your aching cunt, your clit making you jump and moan from how sensitive it feels. Just a few quick rubs and your cumming hard against your fingers, moaning for your King, lamenting that he's not here now to fuck you again.

A servant knocks on the door.

"Lord Tarnished, are you awake? Shall I fetch you some breakfast?" You think for a moment, a smile coming to your face.

"Not now thank you, but please, do send the King here as soon as possible would you? Tell him it's urgent." You hear footsteps fade away fast, the servant no doubt nearly running to pass on your message.

When Morgott knocks upon your door and steps in, he finds you still laying on your soiled sheets, legs open wide to show off his dirty work.

Your fingers are moving furiously within your stretched hole, your head thrown back as you cum again under his gaze. The King can only stand there, mouth agape as you turn to look at him through hooded eyes.

"Now that your confidence has been built up, this time my love, can I please be awake the next time you ravish me? I promise it's more fun~"

#Elden Ring #Morgott #Morgott The Omen King #Morgott The Grace Given #Morgott X Tarnished #Morgott X Reader #Smut

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wastelandmoony · 3 months

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Déjà Vécu

Chapter Thirty-One : End of Beginning

Summary: Last school chapter =) Enjoy any happiness while you can.

Characters: Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Reader (no use of y/n), James Potter, Petter Pettigrew, Regulus Black, Marlene McKinnon, Mary MacDonald, Lily Evans

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI

A/N: Having a rough time mentally, so I'm not going to beat myself up about my less-than-thrilled feelings about this chapter. I've begun writing post-war chapters, and I'm excited to be transitioning out of Hogwarts. Also, if you've messaged me recently about being on a taglist, I answered everyone privately and have realized I can't go back and get your handles. So please message me again and I'll add it =)

Déjà Vécu Masterlist

Companion Playlist

Read on AO3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

September 1st, 1977

“My little witch is all grown up!” Tears streamed down her mother’s face as they entered Platform 9 3/4. The entire drive to King’s Cross, the crushing reality of this final train ride to Hogwarts began to sink in.

This was it. The chapter was coming to a close.

She hugged her parents tightly, which she tried to do as much as possible nowadays. The news was getting bleaker and bleaker, the Daily Prophet trying to sweep as much of it under the rug as they could. Those that dared print any iota of the truth usually ended up disappearing, the whisperings of such occurrences becoming more frequent. Luckily, James’ parents had begun to include him in more of their discussions, leading to the rest of them hearing the truth in great detail. He’d written her in mid-august, after Sirius had arrived back at Potter manor, to give an update on the efforts being port forth by people like his parents. He also implored her to find out who Sirius’ suspected new girlfriend was, disclosing that their friend had been acting “slightly less insane and kept sneaking off to send owls”. She didn’t respond, just laughed and mentioned it to Sirius in her next letter. They’d agreed to not address their relationship with the others just yet, waiting to put it off until the school year and live for a few more weeks amongst their own little secret. There were no titles spoken of, no boyfriend or girlfriend, partner or lover; they were just…together. Sirius was hers, and she was his; and that was enough for them both.

James appeared on the train platform first, unruly hair catching her eye before his enthusiastic wave. Following quickly behind was Peter, who looked distant and preoccupied, and finally Sirius, who smiled broadly when he caught sight of who James was staring at. Racing towards them, she launched into Sirius’ arms as he tossed his bags to the ground. Cradling her face, he kissed her earnestly. From beside them, Peter openly groaned.

“It’s about bloody time!” James sighed loudly, the smile evident in his voice. Sirius gave his best friend a rude gesture, never breaking the kiss in the process.

“Oh no, are we going to have to deal with this for the foreseeable future?” Remus had walked up behind them, the sound of his voice had her pulling away with a slight grin.

“Hi Moony, sorry I didn’t write much,” she hugged him in greeting.

He squeezed her, “It’s alright, you were obviously occupied.”

She pinched him, leading to a sly smirk from Remus. He kissed the top of her head, “I’m happy for you, love,” he whispered into her ear.

Sirius threw a leather-clad arm around her shoulders, motioning towards the train, “Alright then, Head Boy, lead the way.”

She followed his gaze to James, “What?! Jamie!”

He blushed at the attention, “Oh, uh, yeah…Lily’s made Head Girl too actually.”

“That’s an extremely unsurprising, yet serendipitous decision,” she laughed, “Congratulations, you deserve it.”

“Yeah, he’s a proper arsehole now—ow!” Sirius cradled his side where she’d elbowed him.

James smiled fondly at her, picking up his trunk and leading them all onto the Hogwarts Express one last time.

———

November 5th, 1977

She’d never been this drunk at a party before. The entire Gryffindor Common Room was a blur of scarlet and and gold, bodies packed tight while the Clash played loudly through the speakers. Sirius had wanted an all out banger for his final birthday at Hogwarts, inviting essentially any warm body (and a few ghosts) to the tower for a night “full of debauchery” as he had put it to anyone that would listen. Earlier in the afternoon she had given him his present, a new album from the Sex Pistols. Sirius had hearts in his eyes listening to the opening song, only pulling himself away to lock the dormitory door and kiss his way across her body. They had spent the rest of the afternoon tangled in each other, with only the sound of Pretty Vacant on repeat to muffle their unholy noises from the rest of the residents of the tower.

At midnight, Lily brought out the birthday cake with the help of James, the two of them getting the entire tower to sing along while Sirius sat against the arm of the couch beaming. He reached out and pulled her onto his lap, holding tight as he waited to blow out his candles. After making a little show of pretending to “think” about his wish, he finally extinguished them, planting a gentle kiss to her shoulder in the process.

“What’d you wish for?” She asked, turning around to face him once everyone had gone back to dancing, or drinking, or doing…whatever it was they were doing.

Sirius nuzzled against her neck, “You know precisely what I wished for, love.”

She hummed, skimming a hand down his spine, “…only if you’re a good boy tonight.”

He looked up at her with heavy lids, from the firewhisky or lust or both, she wasn’t quite sure. Distracted by his gaze, she let out a surprised gasp as his hand snaked its way around to grab her backside obscenely.

“Bad dog…” she purred, kissing him once as he tried to wander his hands further. “I’m going to go get some air, it’s too hot in here.” One last soft kiss, and she wiggled out of his grasp just as James and Remus came over to ask him to settle an apparently desperate argument having to do with quidditch.

The corridor outside of the common room was chilly in the most delicious way, and she practically moaned with relief as the portrait swung shut. She inhaled deeply and sighed. The floor felt like it was spinning a little bit. She should probably sit down or something.

She opened her eyes and saw a friendly face leaning against the window, a bottle of firewhisky in his hand.

“Hey Pete,” she smiled, joining him against the wall. He didn’t return the warm welcome, just hummed in acknowledgement. “You alright?” She dragged her eyes over his face, something was up, he never acted so cold with her. A look down at the bottle pointed to him being completely off his face.

Peter shifted on his feet, “I’m fine. Just…relaxing.”

“I was wondering where you’d gone off to, I didn’t see you when we sang to Sirius,” even in her drunken state she sensed his tense energy and tried to keep the conversation light.

“Oh yeah?” He said almost sarcastically, “I didn’t think anyone had noticed.”

She shook her head slightly and let out a laugh, “What’re you talking about, Pete? Of course I’d notice if you—“

“How long have I been gone then?” He asked a little too aggressively for her liking.

“I…I don’t know Peter, I’ve been drinking and—“

“Yeah, I know. I also know that your favorite drink is firewhisky mixed with cider, you’ve had four of them already tonight. You only dance to Abba, but you’ll always keep time with your foot to every song you hear. You absolutely loathe potions, but you always light up whenever you figure out the best way to combine ingredients. Your favorite color is orange, but not like pumpkin orange; bold and dramatic like a sunset. You always scrunch your nose before a bludger hit. Your deepest fear is failure, and you still hate the fact that you were put in Hufflepuff even though you pretend you don’t.”

She stared at her friend, completely at a loss for any words as he continued on his tirade.

“I know that you talk to Remus somehow through that book you always carry.”

“How do you—“ her heart beat faster, the only other person to know about that was Sirius.

“I also know you’ve been sneaking into our dormitory for over a year to sleep in Sirius’ bed.” His tone bordered on accusatory. She continued to stare, dumbfounded by all of it.

“Don’t tell me that you notice me,” Pete held her gaze steady for someone that had a half-empty bottle of whisky in his hand, “Because I would know a thing or two about noticing people.”

“You’re wrong,” she whispered, voice cracking slightly. The corridor had stopped tilting, but the air was heavy with discomfort as she gathered her bearings.

Peter took a step closer towards her, “I’m sorry?”

She cleared her throat, “I said you’re wrong. My biggest fear isn’t failure.”

Peter’s laugh was on the verge of bitterness, “Yeah? What is it then, Sirius breaking up with you when he finally gets bored?”

Oh.

Ouch. Is this what it felt like to be stabbed? She was pretty sure he had just jammed a serrated knife into her abdomen.

“No, Peter,” she spat, curling her fists to avoid him seeing her shaking hands, “My biggest fear is losing the people I love, which includes you, believe it or not.”

Before she could move, Peter grabbed her face and kissed her. She froze for a moment, too drunk to fully comprehend what in the actual fuck was going on. Carefully, she grabbed both of his hands and pushed him back gently. “Peter—“

“What the fuck are you playing at, Pete?”

Sirius was standing in the open portrait entrance, eyes narrowed on his friend, full of rage and betrayal.

“Sirius it’s fine, just a misunderstanding—“ she started, as he ignored her to push Peter against the wall.

“Stop!” She stood between them, taking Sirius’ face between her palms. “Look at me, Siri.”

Reluctantly, his blue eyes slid to her, “We’re all shit-faced. Let’s go upstairs and go to bed. Everything’s fine.”

“I don’t want him to touch you. I don’t want anyone to touch you,” she could hear the anger in his voice, the same kind she had heard last year in the forest. The same sadness and fear was present too, just beneath the surface. Unsure of what to say, she kissed him.

“I don’t want anyone else to touch me, Sirius,” she said against his lips, “I love you.”

He stopped and stared at her through heavy lids, mouth still centimeters from hers.

“Say that again.”

“I love you?”

He kissed her softly, “again.”

“I love you.”

He picked her up and she began to laugh, carrying her back toward the common room.

“I’m going to make you scream it so loud the entire tower hears,” he growled into her ear.

As the portrait swung shut, she noticed that Peter had disappeared, and the corridor was empty, save for a half empty whisky bottle.

———

December 23, 1977

As a collective, they had decided to remain at Hogwarts for the winter holidays, to be together one last time in the place they all called home. All of them, except for Peter.

She had tried to convince him to stay, even going as far as to bribe him with promises to complete the rest of his essays for the year. He had declined every offer. His reasoning allegedly that his parents were going through a tough time, and they wanted to be together for the holidays. She couldn’t argue with that, not when she’d do the same for her family. The feeling was bittersweet as she hugged her friend goodbye on the last day of term, the promises of fun and mischief on the horizon for the next week shadowed by the fractured dynamic now that they’d be missing one piece of the puzzle. They hadn’t spoken about the night of Sirius’ birthday party, the three of them choosing instead to chalk it up to drunken stupidity and sweep it under the rug. But she hadn’t forgotten the way he had spoken to her, how his eyes held such despair and pain. None of it was normal, not for Pete, who was usually quiet and sweet and always made her smile no matter what. Something was going on, she just needed to do some digging.

Pete squeezed her hand once before leaving for the carriage ride over to Hogsmeade station, offering a small reassuring smile before disappearing from the Great Hall that morning. Sirius pulled her onto his lap at the breakfast table, her eyes still focused on Peter exiting the main doors, “Stop worrying,” he murmured into a kiss on her temple.

“I’m not,” she lied.

He gently grabbed her chin to turn towards him, “You’re getting that little crease between your eyebrows, don’t lie to me, Yellowjacket.” She shot him an annoyed glare, trying to not break into a smile.

“So what’s the plan?” Mary leaned forward to look expectantly at the rest of them down the table.

James beamed, “Whatever we want, the castle is ours.”

———

Apparently “whatever we want” meant different things to each person involved.

James and Lily snuck away to ‘explore the grounds’ (which they all knew was code for feeling each other up in the Prefects bathroom); Mary had turned the Common Room into her own personal nightclub, blasting music and dancing around atop the furniture while Marlene and Dorcas played games on the rug by the fire; Remus and her had decided to spend a relaxing afternoon in the library reading, much to Sirius’ annoyance. He had wanted to start a pick-up game of quidditch now that the pitch would be guaranteed empty, but ended up grabbing his broom and heading out solo.

Madam Pince scowled when Remus and her entered the deserted library, angry that her solitary literary oasis was now tainted by their smiling faces. Making a beeline for their preferred table in the corner of the second floor, she pulled out a few books and settled in across from Remus for a marathon reading session with her best friend, even sneaking in snacks from the kitchens so they wouldn’t have to leave for sustenance.

Hours passed, and she had become so engrossed in the book that she didn’t hear someone creeping up behind her.

“Christ—“ she jumped as Sirius pressed a kiss to her temple. Remus let out a low chuckle from across the table, having clearly seen his friend sneak up and chose to not warn her ahead of time.

She shook her head, “You both are pricks…”

“You love us though,” Sirius wrapped both arms around her shoulders and leaned closer to her ear, “Come with me, I have something to show you.”

Shutting the book and setting it on the table, she got up and followed him through the tall shelves towards the back of the library. The sections they began to pass became dustier and older, the light even beginning to fade the further they traveled.

“Siri, where are we going?” She whispered. He reached back and grabbed her hand, tugging her behind one of the shelves, kissing her deeply.

“Pince is going to catch us,” she said in between breaths, hands tangling in his dark hair.

Sirius smiled against her lips, “That’s half the fun.”

She was eternally grateful at the decision to wear a skirt that day, even more so that Sirius had the wherewithal to preemptively place a hand over her mouth before bending her over an ancient wooden desk. By the time they made their way back to where Remus was still sitting, the sun had set and she could already feel bruises forming on her hips.

———

The rest of the break was precisely what she wanted: a whole bunch of doing nothing. Just waking up and leisurely spending time with her best friends. Late one night close to the start of term, they were all strewn about the Gryffindor Common Room; some of them asleep in armchairs or on the floor, the rest just lounging and listening to music comfortably. She laid against Sirius sprawled on the couch, back pressed tightly to his chest as he ran a hand up and down her arm.

“What happens when it’s over?” She spoke softly, Sirius’ hand stilling against her skin.

“When what’s over, love?” The rumble of his voice vibrated against her bones.

“This…Hogwarts. What happens when we’re not together anymore?”

James smiled sadly at her from the armchair across the room, Lily tucked into his side as she slept. “We were uh…actually talking about getting a place together after school,” he looked down at the sleeping redhead lovingly.

“Jamie, that’s amazing,” she grinned at him from across the room. Though she was happy for her friends, a large part of her wanted nothing more than to stay this way forever, never going off and living separately and only seeing each other sporadically; as selfish and unpractical as that sounded.

“What about us?” Sirius muttered into her ear, resuming the comforting brush of his knuckles. She hummed up at him in question.

“We can get an apartment, maybe in London?” His blue eyes sparkled in the light of the fire. She sat up and looked at him properly, “Really? You’d want that?” Sirius nodded firmly.

“What if we went in on it together?” Her eyes tracked to Remus, sitting on the rug by the fireplace.

He gave her a sidelong glance, “I’m not going to be the third-wheel in that house, not with you two shaggin’ on every surface.”

She held out a hand towards him, wiggling her fingers dramatically, “Oh come on, Moony! You know I can’t live without you!”

Sirius chimed in beside her, “Yeah Moons, I promise we’ll only have sex in the kitchen once a month.” She elbowed him in the ribs.

“We can ask Pete too! It’ll be great, and James and Lily can come over for Sunday dinners,” she stared at her best friend hopefully, watching as his glare slowly melted into a reluctant smile.

“Fine, but only because I can’t live without you either…and I get first call on a bedroom.”

“Deal,” she smiled broadly, falling back against Sirius’ chest again, “We can start looking the week we get home from final term.”

———

January 28th, 1978

“The Order of the Phoenix,” James said proudly, standing in the center of the boys dormitory. The rest of them were lounging around the room on various beds, having chosen to use their room for this particular meeting that James had frantically called.

“James, I’m sorry, but what are you talking about?” She was trying to focus, but Remus was currently across the room sending her crude doodles in their shared sketchbook, trying to make her laugh. Sirius leaned over her shoulder to see, swiftly snatching the book and scrawling something particularly heinous (due to Remus’ immediate grimace upon receiving it).

“It’s a secret society that my parents are a part of, The Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore started it a few years ago. There’s a bunch of members throughout Great Britain, and some abroad as well I think,” James’ eyes were glittering with excitement.

“A secret society? That’s like something from James Bond,” Mary raised her eyebrows from her spot on Peter’s bed. James gave her a puzzled look.

“Who’s James Bond?” Sirius cautiously muttered, afraid to ridiculed by the multiple muggleborns in the room.

She turned around to pat his cheek patronizingly, “It doesn’t matter darling.” He scowled at her sarcasm while Remus chuckled from his own bed.

“Anyway,” James continued, “they’re actively fighting against Voldemort and his supporters, doing reconnaissance and other shit to try and find out their next move, and stop them every chance they get.”

From behind her, Sirius sat up straighter, clearly intrigued at the notion of being on the front lines. “Don’t even think about it,” she whispered back at him.

He huffed an incredulously breath, “I’m going to join, you can’t possibly stop me.”

“I’d prefer to not have you in danger—“

“—there are people dying!”

“Don’t you think I understand that?” Her voice had raised too loud, the rest of the room falling silent as she stared at Sirius, “I can’t risk losing you, any of you…” she looked around the room at her friends. Lily met her eyes, the normal shade of emerald green dark and sad.

James spoke up first, “I uh…I’m already involved…”

Her heart stopped beating. “Jamie—“

“It’s not official or anything, I still have to swear an oath or whatever and my parents won’t let me do that until after we’re done school. But I’m allowed to be at the meetings, and my parents tell me more information…”

She shook her head in disbelief, “Why didn’t you tell us?” James rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, at the same time she felt Sirius shift on the bed behind her. It was Remus’ nervous throat clearing that tipped her off to the betrayal though.

“You all knew…didn’t you? The four of you?” Her eyes shot between Peter, James, Sirius, and Remus. None of which dared look back. “You all planned on joining…”

Sirius made the mistake of reaching for her arm, “Love—“

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she got up off the bed and stormed out of the room, slamming the door. She was halfway down the main corridor by the time Sirius caught up, grabbing her arm in protest.

“Leave me alone,” trying to wrench out of his grasp was futile, he was much stronger than her. He pulled her towards him, gripping her arms tightly as she looked everywhere except for his face.

“Please…” she mumbled.

“Look at me,” he tone was stern, eliciting an immediate reaction from her. When she met his eyes, they didn’t match his voice, instead they were soft and patient. “Talk to me, love. Why are you so upset?”

“You hid this from me! You all did!” She felt insane. From the betrayal by her friends, to the outburst she had in the bedroom, she felt like she was losing her mind a little bit. It’d been years since she’d felt insecure in her friendship with the boys, about feeling any bit left out or that she wasn’t wanted.

Sirius didn’t buy her excuse, “What’s the real problem, though?”

They stared at each other for a beat, his eyes searching hers for the truth. After a deep breath, she let her shoulders drop, “I’m afraid…”

“Of what, love?”

“…of losing any of you. This makes it more real.”

Sirius clicked his tongue, pulling her into a tight hug, “Nothing’s going to happen, we haven’t even officially joined yet. Even so, just because we’re part of the Order, doesn’t mean we’ll do any actual fighting.” She scoffed, “Sirius, I know you, and you would jump at the chance to be on the most dangerous missions.” His laugh was anything but reassuring.

They stood in the quiet corridor for a few minutes, locked in an embrace that she couldn’t bring herself to break. “Why didn’t you include me?” she whispered into his chest.

Sirius kissed the top of her head, “I figured you’d try and stop us. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission y’know.”

“I want to join, something all of you should’ve guessed.”

Sirius smirked, “If it’s any consolation, Moony did say you might want to be involved.”

“That’s because Remus knows me better than anyone else.”

He pulled back, feigning offense, “That’s a bloody lie and you know it!”

She raised an eyebrow in challenge, “Just because you’ve seen me at my most vulnerable, doesn't mean you know me entirely.” Sirius lifted her hand and kissed it, lacing their fingers together to walk back toward the dorm and their awaiting friends.

“Guess I’ll have to try harder, bee."

———

May 6th, 1978

The Order of the Phoenix wouldn’t pay the bills, a notion that didn’t seem to matter to people like James and Sirius who were worth more than any of them in galleons. But to the rest of them, finding a career after Hogwarts was at the forefront of their minds…at least for her it was. She’d known since her second year what she wanted to do, and she was determined to get a foot in the door. Applying to jobs at the Ministry of Magic required many steps, the first and foremost being receiving the proper O.W.L.’s and N.E.W.T.’s. She’d received Outstanding’s in Transfiguration, History of Magic, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Muggle Studies, Ancient Runes, and most importantly, Care of Magical Creatures. N.E.W.T.’s were being held at the end of the month, and she was practically tearing her hair out about it.

By day, she’d be in the library with Lily and Remus, the only other two that understood her determination. After revising for almost each waking hour, by night she would crawl silently beside Sirius in bed, where he’d coax her slowly (and thoroughly) into relaxation.

“You don’t have to stress so much, I have more than enough inheritance to support us both,” He said one night, propping his head up on a fist to look at her.

“It’s not about the money, Siri,” she ran a hand over his bare chest, marveling at the smoothness of his skin, “I want to help people. I’ve wanted to get into Werewolf Support Services for years, I’m not about to stop now when I’m so close.”

He leaned down to kiss her softly, “I love you, you’re the most incredible woman I know.”

She hummed contently into his lips, pulling him closer.

“I’ll be here with you no matter what, love,” he whispered, hand snaking between their bodies. She sighed at his touch, “Promise me.”

His fingers grazed her core, “Promise what?”

Holding her breath, she squirmed as he teased. “Tell me.”

She squeezed his bicep, pleading with him to give her what she wanted, “Promise you’ll always be here.”

He kissed her softly, touch finally landing where she needed him most, “I’m never going anywhere, love.”

———

June 10th, 1978

N.E.W.T.s were the following week, and at that point she wasn’t sure she’d eaten a proper meal, or even brushed her hair in days. Every waking moment was either spent revising, or working on her application for the Being Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Remus (along with Professor Kettleburn and Madam Pomfrey) had written a letter of support to add to it, going to great lengths to convey her dedication to the advancement and care of those afflicted with Lycanthropy. She’d cried for a continuous hour after reading it.

The Friday before exam week, the entire group sat around the breakfast table, some chatting away about their excitement for the end of school, others (mainly herself, Remus, and Lily) were utterly silent. Unlike her other two exam-weary friends, she sat and picked at breakfast, not even bringing a crumb to her mouth.

“You need to eat,” Remus whispered into her ear, a piece of bacon in hand, “It’ll do you no good if you’re starving during exams.”

“I’m fine,” she grumbled, pushing the plate towards the center of the table, nauseous and irritable.

“Suit yourself,” Remus sighed, turning his attention to the person sitting on her other side, “Pads?”

Sirius looked over at his friend, then down at her picked-over plate. “Love…”

She gave Remus a glare, “You’re such a rat!“

“Oi, speaking of—“ he interjected as Peter rushed towards them, pink cheeked and out of breath.

“What’s up, Wormy?” James raised an eyebrow at him, “You look out of sorts.”

Pete slumped down beside him, exhaling loudly, “Filch took it!”

“Took what, mate?” Remus took another bite of bacon, watching his friend catch his breath. Peter cautiously looked down the table. “The map…” he whispered.

“Are you fuckin’ joking Wormtail?!” Sirius said loudly, causing Mary and Marlene to look up from a few seats away. She placed a hand on his arm in an effort to calm him down.

Peter threw up his hands, “I didn’t mean to!”

“What the fuck happened then?” Sirius gritted his teeth. Remus was tense beside her as well, having the ability to restrain his anger much better than most.

Peter took a deep breath, “I was using the map to check one of the passageways, and I guess I wasn’t paying attention, and the next thing I knew Filch had appeared and almost caught me trying to go behind the mirror on the fourth floor—“

“Why were you going through that passageway? Where were you headed?” She stared at her friend quizzically. That particular passage led to Hogsmeade, the secret tunnel being the largest of any they had found during their time at Hogwarts, big enough that it could hold a group of people. They never used it, finding it too conspicuous to be useful, utilizing the One-Eyed Witch tunnel to sneak into Honeyduke’s instead.

Peter didn’t meet her eyes when he opened his mouth to speak, Sirius instead cutting him off. “Who gives a shit what he was doing, that map was our legacy! And now what? Filch is going to get his grubby little hands on it and who knows what that weirdo is going to do with it!”

She looked at him sidelong, telling by his expression that he was being completely serious.

“I cleared it before he could take it,” Peter muttered, eyes still fixed on his lap, “He won’t be able to use it, unless he figures out the password.”

“Well thank fuck for that, Pete,” Sirius sneered, “I’m glad you decided to use your brain for once.”

Her head snapped to him, “What’s your problem? It was an accident.”

Sirius shook his head, “He always does this, he doesn’t think, and now look what’s happened.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Pads,” James chastised, clapping a dejected Peter on the shoulder, “Now, I’m going to go let off steam on the pitch, I think a few of you could gain something by joining me.” He gave Sirius a pointed look, who in turn wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Come flying with me,” he nudged her gently, “it’ll make you feel better.”

She shook her head, annoyed at his outburst with Peter. “I’m going to keep revising, I’ll catch up with you later.”

James stood up, followed by Sirius. “C’mon Pete,” the former pulled their friend up by his arm, “You could use the fresh air too.”

She didn’t miss the eye roll Sirius gave as he bent down to kiss the top of her head. “Moony,” he called to Remus beside her, “makes sure she eats, please.” She didn’t respond or look up at him. “I love you,” he whispered before planting one last kiss to her temple and following the other two out the main doors. Her and Remus sat in comfortable silence for a bit, him continuing to eat while she ruminated on a multitude of thoughts that swirled around her head like a cyclone.

“Talk to me,” Remus muttered, never looking up from his plate, his tone giving no room for nonsense. After all these years, he was still the only one to clock her feelings before anyone else.

She sighed, “Peter’s been acting weird.”

Remus cocked an eyebrow at her, “We’re not talking about Sirius?”

“He’s my problem to deal with, I’m more concerned about the other one at the moment. Have you noticed anything?”

Remus thought on it for a moment, crunching another piece of bacon and then passing one to her, “I’ll only tell if you eat something.”

“Fucks sake,” she said under her breath, biting the piece of meat dramatically just for him.

Remus smiled a little as she chewed, “Pete’s been…different since his dad lost his job.”

“He didn’t say anything to me about that, when did it happen?”

Remus squinted in recollection, “Uh…summer of last year I think? He told us when we got back in September one night. His mum’s been under a lot of stress at work and now with this…Pete’s been trying to help however he can, that’s why he didn’t stay here with us for Christmas.”

She nodded, “Yeah I knew he wanted to spend time with his family, he just never specified.”

Remus hummed, “He hasn’t talked much about it to us either. He’s just been really irritable and has a hairpin trigger nowadays. You can imagine what it’s like sharing a room with him and Sirius…”

“Poor Pete,” she stared down at the plate of untouched food, “You’re not upset about the map, are you?”

Remus shook his head, “Nah, it was fun while it lasted. Won’t have much use for it after next month anyway. Better to have it here where maybe it’ll fall into the hands of some young troublemakers.”

“I hope whoever finds it makes Filch’s job a hell of a lot harder.”

Remus smiled, “Cheers to that.”

———

June 20th, 1978

It had to be some sort of joke. The parchment in her shaky hands fluttered slightly as she read and re-read each word over and and over, brain trying desperately to grasp the words. She inspected the handwriting, looked for any distinguishing marks or something that would give away the letter as being a prank from someone. She doubted anyone she knew would be cruel enough to joke like this.

We’re pleased to offer you a position as Undersecretary to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures: Being Division, supporting the efforts of the Werewolf Support Services branch.

The sentence was practically burned into her retinas with the amount of times she’d read it. As the realization finally sunk in that this was in fact real life, she huffed out a disbelieving laugh to herself, spinning around in her dormitory trying to figure out her next move. There was only one person she wanted to talk to; one person that knew how badly she had wanted this.

———

Remus was lounging against his headboard reading a muggle novel when she burst through the door, eyes wide and breathing heavily from sprinting up the stairs. Every muscle in his body tensed as he sat up.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He tried to keep his voice from giving away the panic flooding his veins. Every day the news was worse and worse, attacks getting closer and closer to home and people with more recognizable names dying on the regular. The anxiety was always there, lying in wait for the bomb to drop. Her eyes scanned his face for a moment, expression blank and neutral as she held up a letter.

“Love, what’s happened?” Remus stood up slowly, taking the piece of parchment from her, eyes flying over the words as his heart hammered away in his chest. He prayed it wasn’t her family, held his breath that the war hadn’t finally struck home.

“I…I got in…” she whispered.

Remus looked up from the paper, seeing the smile beginning to take shape on her face. All fear evaporated from his body as she beamed, eyes brimming with tears.

“I’ve officially been hired by Werewolf Support Services. I actually did it, Remus,” her voice broke as he reached for her, lifting her into a full-body hug. “I’m so proud of you,” he said into her hair, spinning around in the center of the room.

She clung to him, inhaling the familiar scent of her best friend. “I’m finally going to make a difference. I’m going to fix it, Moony.”

Remus buried his face in her neck, the love he had for her overflowing, “You’re going to do great. If anyone can do it, it’ll be you.” She squeezed him tighter, opening her mouth to say something as the dormitory door was kicked open.

“Oi! Hands off my girl.” Sirius leaned against the door frame, voice dripping with sarcasm, “Moony, we’ve talked about this. If you want a three-way, you just have to ask.”

Her and Remus groaned, pulling away from each other to give Sirius matching death glares. “Don’t be crass,” she pointed at him, “I have zero interest in having sex with any of my friends, thank you very much.”

Sirius cocked an eyebrow, “What happened between us then?”

She rolled her eyes, trying to hide a smile, “Oh get fucked, Black.”

“I’m trying to!” He threw his arms out. She ignored the comment entirely, holding out the letter for him instead.

“What’s this?” He took the parchment and skimmed the paragraph quickly. When he’d finished, his blue eyes shot to her in excitement.

“You got in,” he said.

“I got in,” she nodded with barely contained joy. Sirius grabbed her face, giggles erupting from her between kisses.

“I’m…so…proud…of…you!” punctuated each press of his lips to hers. His hands began to wander to her shoulders, then down and around her waist; the kisses that started out quick now becoming more heated.

“Moony,” Sirius purred as he placed a kiss against her jaw, “I need you to leave now.”

Remus sighed as he grabbed his forgotten book from atop the bed, “I’ll be in the library, please try not to break any of the furniture in here. I’ll see you both at dinner.” Sirius backed her onto the bed as the door shut.

“Mmmmm…I doubt it,” he purred as he knelt between her legs.

———

June 24, 1978

Sirius stroked a thumb down her ankle as she placed a kiss to his temple. Carried atop his back, she laughed as they made their way down towards Hogsmeade Station as a group, choosing to walk instead of using the carriages in the hopes of wringing out every last drop of time together. Behind them, Remus talked animatedly with Lily about a book they were both currently engrossed in, James’ arm casually slung over her shoulder as he pretended to listen intently. Ahead, Marlene, Mary, and Dorcas skipped about, the latter two loudly singing an Olivia Newton-John song they’d heard on the muggle radio. Peter walked beside her and Sirius, the two boys in deep conversation about the state of Puddlemere United, and whether or not they’d win a championship this year.

From the higher vantage point, she looked around; taking in the sight of her friends, listening to their voices, breathing in the warm Scottish air for the last time. James caught her gaze and smiled, and she knew he was soaking it all in too.

When they arrived at the station, Sirius set her down gently, kissing her once before boarding the train with James to find them a compartment. The rest of them filed in as younger students ran past, laughing and shouting about their summer plans. She paused at the railing of the platform, staring off across the Black Lake to the castle casting shadows over the dense forest beyond.

“It’s weird to know we won’t be coming back,” Remus leaned beside her, sweeping his eyes over the landscape, “doesn’t feel real.”

She hummed, “I can’t believe we’ll all never eat breakfast again as a dysfunctional, obnoxious family.”

Remus chuckled, “Or worry about getting caught out of bed after curfew.”

“Or try to wrangle the drunk dynamic duo after a quidditch win.” Memories surfaced of having to coax James and Sirius (both incredibly wasted) down from the rafters of Gryffindor Tower after a particularly raucous victory party last year.

“Oh that’s probably…definitely still going to happen,” Remus smiled.

She sighed, the sound filled with sadness but also excitement for the future, “I’m glad I got to spend these years with you, Remus. I’m glad we all found each other.”

He threw an arm around her shoulders as they stared at Hogwarts one final time, “I’m excited to spend the rest of my years with you degenerates as well.”

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neuroprincess · 5 months

Text

Simili - The Executioner

Professor!Agatha Harkness/Student!Female Reader

Fanfic Chapter List

Summary: A series of murders start to scare the small town of Westview when young university students turn up dead on campus, soon Y/N seems to be connected to the victims somehow. Determined to find the author of these atrocities, she can trust no one, not her family, friends, and even less the local police, except the only person really willing to help her, the professor Agatha.

Warnings: Trauma in the subtext, sorry

Word count: +2500

"I watch attentively as the molten bronze falls through the mold, boiling, shining, filling every gap that will form a beautiful image, just as the fire fills and consumes me inside to one day become a person, for now I'm just a mold, even though bronze already runs through my veins, it's in my blood, it's who I am."

As an omen of dark days and in response to recent events, the sky has darkened, turning the bright ones into a mist of mourning. Everything is gray, the animated conversations have become murmurs and, even if they hide it very well, fear pervades the corridors. The academic staff have told everyone that there is nothing to fear and no reason to, but how could they not fear a brutal murder on campus? The image of the man in their memories, haunting some dreams, meanwhile seems to be the entertainment of others who can't stop talking about it as if it were a kind of gossip. Young people are stupid, that's what Y/N thinks as she goes along her usual route, trying not to stare for too long at certain groups that gather on corners, enthusiastic whispers and cunning words, dozens of theories being born. No one really knew Jareth Redd apart from the fact that the name was on the staff and his visits, which could easily go unnoticed among the suited men who administer the university. She... she remembers the yellowed and pointed teeth showing in a smile not warm at all, almost sickly from how forced it was, the eyes that lingered too long and the soft speech that could engage anyone. And she doesn't like to talk or even think about him. That's why she's silent while friends chatter away, trying to keep her mind off other things like new classes or the fact that it hasn't stopped raining, two days and three nights in a row, the puddles are piling up at the exits, there's no umbrella to withstand the gale and at the same time there are a dozen reporters surrounding every gate. It's annoying how they insist on asking questions that no one has answers to and when don't get what they want, induce those answers, distorting phrases to make headlines in the local newspaper, main posts on websites and bloggers too. After days, they're still seen standing on the other side of buildings, trying to take photos or at least catch a glimpse, it's hard to have a big news story like this in hand in a considerably small town. A promising opportunity.

"I heard he had a mistress and the wife ordered his death..." Wanda whispers to friends, there had been several rumors spreading in her previous classes "And the mistress is a university student, from here."

"He wasn't married." Y/N comments without thinking, immediately dismissing another created story, although she knows that if he were married it would probably be true "There was no ring on his finger." she tries to take some of the attention off herself when realizes that the group is staring with curiosity.

"You're very observant, darling." Darcy compliments and smiles sweetly, approaching her who walks ahead faster than the others "Is everything all right?" she asks in a whisper, worried, since everything happened her friend has been quieter than normal, which isn't surprising considering how traumatizing seeing the scene had been.

"Hum, yeah... yeah... I'm just a bit distracted today. I still have a couple of classes to finish the day." she shrugged and sighed, feeling tiredness along with the sleepless nights take over her body "And you?"

"Just one more, how about we meet at the Planet later?"

"I'll come along!" the redhead says, just behind them, listening attentively "But I'll be late, our practice has been postponed until late afternoon."

"The debating club too." Monica says dejectedly, many classes have been canceled and events postponed "Maybe we won't go at all." she points at Jimmy, he agrees.

They quickly get back to chatting about trivial things, like celebrity affairs or how much they hate a specific professor; to Y/N's relief, Redd is no longer mentioned. However, the walk is long, too much for her taste, feeling exhaustion in every part of body. From neurons synapsing a millisecond slower to feet that don't seem to obey the mind screaming that at this rate she'll be late. A bolt of lightning flashes across the sky, illuminating the dim corridor and the noise makes all her hairs stand on end, like a dose of caffeine, it wakes her up almost immediately, senses heightened and eyes alert, suddenly there's a lot going on around. A bunch of architecture students, if she remembers correctly, walk past them, judgmental looks alongside curious stares, all pointed in one direction, Y/N. They don't even try to hide it. This irritates and embarrasses her at the same time, she has never particularly liked being the center of attention, since childhood preferred to be on the sidelines, just an observer and now, after letting instincts lead her to that scene, she has become the last thing wanted. She involuntarily stares back at them, until finally she loses sight, and swallows her saliva, realizing the consequences of that day. But she... needed to confirm what resembled one of the recurring nightmares she's had, the ones that still torment her in the middle of the night and make her feverish. All seems very surreal. The water running under feet, wet grass, red taking over green, white and gray, the statue she had never paid attention to appeared to express itself as it held him in arms, between pain and compassion for a loved one who was gone. Such irony, she thought to herself, smiling without noticing.

"Hey!" Wanda calls as she approaches, increasing speed to keep up with them "I have to do something before class, I might be late, could you save a seat for me?" and without giving a chance for an answer, the other girl takes off down the corridors, everyone there knows what she went to do and with whom, no one comments anything.

"Good luck with your new classes, I hope and pray I didn't scare you about SHE." the brunette whispers, feeling a bit guilty.

"Nah, I'll be fine." Y/N shrugged and winked at her "By the way, I don't want to be late, so I'm going. See you later!"

"See you..."

Without even trying to hear what her friend wants to say, she heads towards the stairs to the second floor, where the classroom is located. It's not as if she can pay attention to any real words or advice, it just goes in one ear and out the other, through the fog that her mind has fallen into. She's thankful that the floor is practically empty compared to the first, so she doesn't have to face the people staring at her or fill herself with questions about what the hell they must be thinking, away from judgmental, malicious and biased speculation. For God's sake, they don't even know her name and that doesn't prevent invented rumors from circulating in every part of the campus.

"I'm sorry, I was distracted..." she begins to explain immediately when feels herself hit another body, both almost fall to the ground due to the impact, but hold on to each other avoiding it, the younger raises face and, surprise, releases her, kept safe by the arms that continue to hold her by the waist firmly against herself, so close, face to face "You... I mean... Well, I, actually..." the words are jumble in the midst of so much nervousness, her throat dries up immediately and hands tremble.

"Watch where you're going next time." the woman says slightly annoyed and lets her go after making sure she can stand. Then straightens the coat she's wearing, fixes the glasses that slipped down the nose during the collision "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. And you?" she asks, nervousness evident in her voice. The woman, the same one who hugged and cried in her arms, is so different from how she remembers.

The eyes, previously swollen and darkened by pain, are a clear, soft blue, expressive and gentle, capable of seeing through any soul, from the purest to the most bruised, contradicting the indifferent expression on her delicate features. Long eyelashes frame them, accompanied by well-defined eyebrows, outlined nose and perfectly drawn mouth, a mature beauty that makes Y/N melt immediately. The air is stolen from her lungs and a sudden need arises to look minimally presentable, internally regretting her modest clothing, slightly disheveled hair and the miserableness of her appearance in general. A little embarrassed, she runs fingers through locks in an attempt to straighten them.

"More than fine." the brunette reacts indifferently and stares at her from head to toe, making the student even more tense "Now, if you don't mind." she mutters, checking the handbag before continuing to walk in the opposite direction, without a second glance.

The stranger's phantom touch makes her skin burn, a weird sensation begins to consume her, an emptiness that hits her straight in the chest. Y/N sighs in defeat, feeling the world trying to create a small conspiracy so that nothing is forgotten or, as she prefers, buried seven feet under next to his corpse. Very dead, waiting to be consumed by the worms, who, even though they are worms, are about to taste the dirtiest thing they've eaten in a short lifetime. The poison intrinsic in the cold and sickly flesh, time destroying it, just as it should with all the secrets and deeds in life. In the end, all she wants is for this person to disappear from existence, to leave her alone. No matter how much she's being pulled into the small loose parts of a complex puzzle, by which she means people and anything related, begging to be seen, she prefers to blind herself. Repeating, for the hundredth time in the week, that everything ended the minute a heart stopped beating.

"Right, right, everything's fine now." she murmurs, impatient for letting these thoughts, ideas and... some memories surface "Class! I have to be in class." quickly checks the room number on the timetable.

It takes her a while to find the correct number in the long corridor, among the various identifications that scramble in her blurry vision, sometimes she forgets how big the campus can be. From the high walls raised in raw brick to the statues molded by the hands of the graduates themselves, every detail drawn on Westview's timeline, the pride of the small town. The Mythology professor's auditorium lives up to this, rows of chairs down wide staircases, at least fifty empty seats, the walls are filled with paintings probably worth more than her life, along with dozens of historical decorations, at the end there is a stage that seems untouchable, so clear and organized, a large table in the center, behind it two shelves full of old books and a blackboard already scribbled on. The cursive letter written in impeccable calligraphy.

Heels tapping against the laminate floor attract attention and a figure emerges from the adjoining door, walking at a slow, glorious pace to the table, those thick-framed glasses stuck on the end of her nose as she seems to concentrate on reading the local paper.

"Are you going to continue staring at me or find a seat for yourself? Class starts soon." the woman, the same one from the fountain and the corridor, says loud and clear, sitting down without even looking up "And keep quiet."

Y/N just nods in shock and does as she's told, looking for one, having the privilege of choosing anyone since nobody but her has arrived yet, ending up somewhere in the middle. And not a single student shows up for the next ten minutes. She begins to wonder if there will be any more or if a second thing has happened in the week to bring everyone together, doubt makes the atmosphere tense, not only because of her concern, also for the indifference she feels coming from the other woman. It's almost as if she despises the girl without even knowing her, which only reinforces what Darcy warned about earlier and makes her believe that she is, in fact, an executioner. How will the next lessons be if this is just a taste of what's to come? Not to mention the visible connection between her and the late chancellor. As the clock ticks down, the hope of having a partner in the battle for the first class is fading and, like a heroine on a winged horse, Wanda finally appears. The loud banging of the double door draws the attention of the only people there, which earns her a disapproving look, she doesn't mind.

"Honey, I'm home!" she jokes, taking a seat next to Y/N "Can you believe I couldn't find him anywhere? So I gave up wandering around campus like a silly cockroach. Did I miss anything?"

"Class hasn't even started."

"At this pace it won't, will it always be empty like this?" she whispers noticing the older woman's deadly stare now directed at them, the newspaper forgotten on the wooden surface "I wouldn't be surprised at her fame."

"I have very good hearing, Maximoff." the brunette says suddenly, standing up and showing off her elegant figure without a coat; no one noticed that she had taken it off, revealing a beautiful navy blue dress that clings to curves and accentuates all attributes "And you should know that my fame doesn't even come close to what it's really like being in my class."

At this point, Y/N doesn't even care anymore about the reputation of an executioner or how the hell she's going to deal with it for the rest of an entire semester, her eyes are fixed on the lines that outline the impeccable body and she can't help but admire her beauty. If she didn't have the slightest bit of self-control, surely she'd be drooling with reason. But she's certain to be blushing deeply and is grateful that the attention is on her friend.

"Well, you two are new, so I'll be kind enough to go over a few simple rules. First of all, time, anyone arriving after the agreed time won't be allowed in. I'm not going to waste my voice for nothing, so be quiet, pay attention and take notes. And, most importantly, no smartphones."

"But..." Wanda tries to protest only to be interrupted immediately, with no chance to say anything or assimilate indignation.

"That's all!" the professor takes two steps forward and stares at them for a moment, blue irises fixed on Y/N before returning to speak "Welcome to Cosmogonic Mythology! I am Miss Harkness, besides teaching I'm in charge of the history department..."

The words become garbled and the younger can't concentrate on the introduction to the subject, even though she knows all the difficult words need to be written down and some knowledge absorbed, nothing seems to enter her head. She is paralyzed, without reaction. It's really happening, there's no escape. At the same time as being enchanted by the professor, she is also frightened, fearing that she might read her soul and pull out the deepest secrets, because, like a magnet, they can't take their eyes off each other.

taglist: @tryingmybest233333 @wastdstime @scarr0713 @dvrkhcld @heidss @xvyzxx @minszhuo @quailbagutte @imaginesmultifandoms @ctrlamira @milffilm @taurus-baby-34 @Starbucks-06 @Willow_Nox @grandtacoranchnickel @multifandomlesbianic @louderfortheback @h-doodles @moonzbluz @peggy082023 @willowshadenox

Join my taglist here ^^

#agatha harkness x reader #fanfiction #agatha harkness #wandavision #simili

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3mcwriting · 10 months

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Any Fan's Dream, Part 22

Taglist: @secretly-sirens, @zeeader, @imdoingathingmom, @x-theolivia, @ainsley-official, @huntress-artemiss, @hoohoohope, @ourgoddessathena, @wiintaersoldier, @vine-enthusiast, @afraidofshrimp, @myfturn, @im-better-than-your-newborn, , @mjaudrey, @igotthisasajokeyetimstillhere, @starr60, @coldmermaidhologram, @daenerysluvrr, @viperchick47, @marvelwomen-arehot, @mynightandstars

So, recently this fic hasn't had much interaction, and I'm not sure why. One of you told me that it can be buggy and hard to reach, so I'm sorry abt that but if you ever wonder abt updates, I'm gonna start up dating every saturday. Just go to my masterlist, then to the afd masterlist and to the new chapter. Hopefully you're all able to find it now. This will be the last time I post the taglist because it hasn't been working well.

Any Fan's Dream Masterlist

Synopsis:

When you look around and see Avengers Tower in front of you and Peter Parker beside you, you wonder how the hell you managed to get into the MCU.

Thor exited the Bifrost, carrying you in his arms. He nodded a quick thank you to Heimdall before swinging his hammer. He held you tightly as he flew toward the palace, mind only focused on one thing: getting you help.

Back on Earth, there hadn't been a chance for your survival; not with the amount of blood that had escaped you already. Steve had said it himself that there was nobody close enough to help you, not in the amount of time you had left. So Thor had grabbed you up in his arms, hardly caring if the rest of them wanted an explanation because it was getting increasingly obvious that you didn't have time for that and he'd left the quinjet, calling out for Heimdall.

As he arrived at the palace, he called out for help, setting you down in the infirmary and watching as the medical attendants glanced at him wide-eyed before focusing on the young woman bleeding out on the cot.

"Is she human?" One of the healers asked him.

"Yes." Thor nodded. "You must help her."

Normally, they'd ask questions about why the human was even there, but they'd all heard about how the thunder god fondly looked upon the mortals. They got to work with new fervor, knowing of the fragility of humans.

On of the healers looked at Thor. "We need to focus. Take your leave."

Thor didn't want to leave, but he didn't want to be the reason you ended up dying even more so he left the room, pacing the hallway outside. He didn't understand the quarrel between the Man of Iron and the Captain, but he didn't like it. Normally he could get behind a healthy brawl between friends, but he didn't like that you'd been caught in between and ended up hurt.

No, he didn't like it all.

He cared about you, after all, and because of that, he paced that hallway until the medical attendants told him it was okay to come in three hours later.

When he entered the room, the medical attendants were still bustling around but seemed much less apprehensive than before. Everything seemed much less frantic, none of the healers looking especially worried, most seeming faintly relieved.

Thor looked at you.

You were still unconscious, tired body recovering from the ordeal it had been through. Your injuries had been closed and the healers assured Thor that you were going to be fine. You looked peaceful, face not scrunched up in stress or pain for the first time since he’d gone back to Earth.

Your stress…it was all because the Captain and the Man of Iron were fighting.

You had gotten caught in between them and almost killed…but he knew that both of the men cared for you. He saw the way the Metal Man acted as a father to you and how panicked the Captain had been when you were hurt.

They both deserved to know that you were alright.

With that thought, he left the room, squeezing your hand softly before he’d gone on his way back to Earth.

There they were; Loki dead on the floor, face blue; Gamora, body broken and disfigured; and Tony, face scabbed and bloody, his body absorbing too much power.

You fell to your knees, trying to scream at them to wake up, to be okay, but no sound escaped your raw lips.

"This is your fault." Peter appeared, a scowl so angry on his face, you had a hard time believing it was the same person as before.

No...no, this wasn't your fault...

But you knew.

You didn't change the future.

They all died because you were too weak.

Your eyes snapped open, a sharp gasp escaping your parted lips while you bolted up, your body aching. Your eyes felt crusty and you could feel the way the dried tear streaks left your cheeks. You rubbed your eyes, trying to make yourself feel better. You felt a slight sting at the movements of your arms and looked down.

What were you wearing?

If you didn't know any better, you'd think it was a hospital gown, but there was no way in hell that hospital gowns were this comfy. You were left perplexed as you looked around, before your eyes landed on the only other person in the room.

"Thor?" you asked. "Where are we?..."

Even as you asked the question, you began to realize exactly where you were.

The comfy clothes, golden walls, and the god sitting in the room....you were on-

"Asgard." Thor's deep voice broke you out of your thoughts, only confirming what you suspected. "You were talking in your sleep."

You missed his word, too incredulous at the situation, thoughts scrambled, mind blown, and feeling a slight itch on your nose.

The calmness of your demeanor was due to the fact that you were in disbelief at your circumstances. First, you'd got transported into the MCU, then you'd met all your heroes, then you'd been in an explosion, then you flew on Mjolnir, then you got stabbed-

Ohhhhh, that's right.

You got stabbed.

You scratched your nose. "Why am I here?"

That question seemed to set Thor off. "Because you are an idiot! An absolute imbecile!" You blinked, he continued. "Do humans have no sense of self-preservation?! Do all of you simply run around getting stabbed for your acquaintances?! Is there not a speck of intelligence in that dull mind?!"

"Huh," you muttered, the situation finally making sense. A grin grew on your face. "Were you worried about me, Loki?"

“Where is she?” Tony demanded, storming up to the super-soldier who he used to respect—albeit reluctantly—but still, there was no speck of the former good feelings toward one another.

Steve set foot on the Tarmac, exiting the quinjet with the rest of the individuals who had accompanied him to the Hydra base. His face didn’t hold the same anger as Tony’s; instead, he was downtrodden—face twisted in guilt.

Steve may not have had the same anger as Tony, but Natasha certainly did. Of course, she remained nonchalant on the outside, but her eyes blazed with enough burning fury that anyone unlucky enough to be caught under the full force of her gaze would’ve immediately been incinerated.

A different voice cut through the air—much younger, but no less demanding.

”Where is (y/n)?” Peter’s voice was far more forceful than his usual happiness.

”Thor has her,” Steve answered. “He took her to Asgard to get treated. It was the only way she had a chance.”

”How could you let this happen to her? She’s not an Avenger—she didn’t sign up for the danger of being one.” Peter knew how much you adored everyone on the team and he knew that you would be over the moon if they offered you a spot as an Avenger, but you weren’t an Avenger—not right now, and not ever if you ended up getting killed.

“Because he’s reckless,” Tony said with a scoff. He approached the light haired super soldier. “This is on you. If she dies, it’s on you.”

Steve wanted to retort but what would he say? That you had joined them of your own free will and you made the decisions that led you here? If it was almost anybody else, maybe he could believe that, but with you, he knew he should’ve sent you back again. You weren’t trained. You didn’t have the same experience as everyone else on the team. He shouldn’t have let you accompany them to a place he knew had a high chance of danger and confrontation.

A beam of many-colored lights interrupted the tense interaction, a familiar god appearing.

”Lady (y/n) has been treated, she is okay.”

"As if! I could not be concerned about-" Loki stopped, realizing his mistake. "How'd you know?"

"Well, to put it frankly, you suck at acting."

He looked affronted, shifting back to his normal self. "I will have you know I am extraordinary at acting! I've faked my death multiple times!"

You just blinked, unimpressed. "Okay, whatever you need to tell yourself. Speaking of faking your death, Thor doesn't know you're alive, does he?"

Loki sputtered. "As if I'd let that oaf know-"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I know you're in denial about pretty much all your feelings but like- stop insulting your brother. He genuinely loves and admires you despite your tendency to act like a drama-kid in sixth grade. Not many people have that kind of devotion."

"What do you know?" Loki hissed, making it obvious you hit a sore point. "You're just another one of his little fans who doesn't have the capacity to look any deeper than his appearance."

Your entire body ached and you'd dealt with constant stress for the last couple weeks. Who cared if this was one of the many characters you'd simped for over the years, you were tired and fed up with watching your words.

"Of course I'm a fan of his!" You threw your arms up. "But it's not because he's muscular or good-looking or any shit like that; it's because of how much he cares about the people around him and how no matter what horrible shit happens, he still remains all sunny and has faith in people." Too tired of always watching your words, you made a mistake. "Hell, he even admitted to you that he looks up to you!"

"When?! That fool is too caught up in his empty head to think of anyone else-"

You were too caught up in the argument to restrain yourself from saying the words that would reveal too much. "When you're on Sakaar! How do you not remember?"

Loki looked at you, green eyes more intense than you'd ever seen before. "Neither I or my brother have ever been on that garbage of a planet."

Every muscle in your body tensed.

There was no way to cover what you'd just said.

He already had his suspicions, there was no way in hell that he'd believe any lie you told him and to be frank, you couldn't think of a single lie that would cover your slip-up. You'd been playing with fire since the moment you arrived here when you decided not to tell anyone about what had happened and you'd gotten a little too careless being that close to the flame.

“Lady (y/n), you are awake!” A joyful voice thundered, making you and Loki look to the open doorway.

Thor was grinning—well, until he saw Loki.

#mcu #marvel x reader #the avengers #avengers x reader #tony stark #steve rodgers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #peter parker x reader #thor x reader #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #any fan’s dream

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orlissa · 8 months

Note

hi! sorry if this is out of the blue but can your write a drabble based this on lucife59 drawing

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30982610/chapters/81993070#workskin

it's probably one my favorites bc of how Aleksander throne is facing Alina and also she need a step bc she smalll

It took some time (sorry!), and I'm not even sure if I'm completely happy with it (damn you, writer's block!), but at least see, I wrote something post-worthy after two months of silence. It's just just over 1K words, too!

Artwork added to the post with the artist, @lucife56's permission

The Lantsov thrones, those garish, golden, monstrous things, were burned on a pyre right at the Grand Palace steps on the night of the Great Rebellion—the symbolic end of the Lantsov dynasty, a long awaited bonfire. They never even learned if it were Grisha or disgruntled otkazat'sya who dragged them out of the throne room—not that it mattered.

Afterwards, for a week or so, there was just something apt, something poetic about simply standing in front of their people as Ravka's new Tsar and Tsaritsa—as conquers, victors, leaders chosen by the people and by the heavens—, and talk about the dawn of a new era and the end of the wars, about not returning to some never-was greatness but forging their way into a brilliant future, about their service to the people. It was empowering. It was right.

Then it all quickly got old as Alina—through speeches and audiences and other different appearances—learned how taxing it can be to stand for hours in high heels, heavy skirts, tightly corseted, and with an overly ornamental headdress on her coiffed hair. Then she understood the absolute necessity of having a throne. Thankfully, Aleksander seemed to be on the same page regarding this issue.

“I’ve spoken to David about our thrones,” he told her one night as they were just about to snuff out the lights. “I presented him with some pointers about the general designs, but gave him free reign beyond that—I find his genius shines the brightest when he is unrestrained. I hope his work will be to your liking.”

Alina let out a relieved sigh as her head hit the sinfully soft down pillow. “As long as it allows me to rest my legs and won't have me picking splinters from my bum, I'll be more than happy with his work."

And she was, because David, like always, outdid himself, and the new thrones, finished in less than a week, were beyond gorgeous: made of lacquered ebony, inlaid with gold and decorated with intricate carvings, they commanded respect without being overly ostentatious. They were also rather comfortable—not an insignificant factor, given how much time they were likely to spend on them—, and, maybe most importantly, the same size.

Which was an admirable, symbolic gesture, a way to reassure everyone that she was not some consort like Tatiana used to be, there to be seen, but not heard, but a co-monarch, an equal. Someone who wielded power, someone who made decisions. And in theory, Alina loved it, and let Aleksander know it as well, in the privacy of their bedchamber. Enthusiastically.

But in practice—well, that was a different question.

Because in practice two same-sized thrones meant two Aleksander-sized thrones, who was… how to put it nicely? Of slightly greater dimensions than she was. Not in the girth, like Pyotr was, so it wasn't like she was swimming in the throne, but in… well. Let's just say that he was tall enough that, when standing, she had difficulties kissing him without his active cooperation. And that he could easily tuck her under his chin—which was, admittedly, rather nice. But because of this difference in height, while Aleksander sat regally in his black-and-gold throne, soles of his feet steadily on the floor, while hers dangled a good four inches above it.

And it was terrible—maybe not from the outside, but in her mind? Sitting there, listening to military commanders giving reports and the old nobility begging for their new Tsar and Tsaritsa’s favor while her feet didn’t even scrape the floor… It made her self-conscious, feeling like a child playing dress-up—deep down she was sure that the people around her would catch up on it too soon enough, realizing that she was nothing but a fraud, an impostor, a symbol with a pretty face, nothing more.

By the time the audience ended, she was struggling to keep her tears at bay.

They were to appear again to hear their people in a couple of days, but she was already trying to come up with some excuse to avoid it, and the whole throne room altogether. After all, Aleksander could handle it well enough alone, couldn’t he?

She should have known that her discomfort would not escape Aleksander’s attention, though.

It was only two days later that he sought her out in the middle of the day—when she retreated to her new little studio, nonetheless, to avoid all the curious eyes—, with an oddly secretive smile on his lips.

“Come with me, milaya,” he said, his voice more pleading than commanding.

She reluctantly lifted her gaze from the canvas. “Where?”

“To the throne room.”

She almost winced. “I really can’t, not now.” She made a half-hearted gesture towards her paints. “These will all dry up…”

“Then I’ll get you new ones. And it’ll be just a couple of minutes.” He caught her hand and started gently pulling her towards the door. “There is a surprise waiting for you there, if that��s enough of an incentive.”

It was, but just barely. Still, she let out a slow breath and let herself be pulled out of the room.

At first, she saw nothing out of the ordinary in the throne room—the same high windows, the same banners, the same thrones, the same…

And then she spotted it.

Right in front of her throne stood a low stool, more of a step, really, made of the same glossy ebony as the throne itself. Biting into her lip in excitement, she stole a glance at Aleksander—he beamed—, then walked up the dais to the thrones. There, she stepped on the stool, turned like a ballerina in the Imperial Opera House—or she would have liked to believe—, then sat down, her feet resting comfortably on the stool. Not dangling, like a child’s—resting, regally, like a queen’s.

Perfect.

Aleksander went to her, sat on his own thorne, and, turning it slightly towards hers, leaned in. “So?” he asked, his voice just a tad smug.

She could have told him how grateful she was for his thoughtfulness, for noticing her discomfort even when she herself was reluctant to admit to it. She could have admonished him for bothering David with such trivial matters. She could have teased him, telling him that he was impossible. Instead, Alina straightened her spine and looked at him almost coquettishly. “I feel like the empress of the world.”

Aleksander’s smile widened slightly. “That’s what you are.”

#ask #fanfic #darklina #shadow and bone

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hannahbanana29 · 1 year

Text

newjeans' Danielle x fem!r

Helllllooooooo 👀 I have finally decided what I'm doing next. So far, the majority of my posts have been enha-related, so now we are moving onto a small newjeans series in which Danielle marsh is the reader's sister's bestie.... I'm so excoited 🤧

Warnings: underage clubbing, fluff, maybe some swearing. Tell me if there's something I should add!!

Chapter ONE: when dani met y/n

**sneak peek**: "When I get back, y/n, we have to get to know each other better. I mean, how have we not seen each other more?"

You were on your bed with a television remote in your hand. Why did Netflix not have anything better these days? You wanted to get to sleep earlier tonight, and you had this God awful habit of needed some sort of background sound from the TV. Since you'd be falling asleep, you didn't want to watch anything too riveting, in case you missed it, but the things you normally watched weren't satisfying enough.

Saturday nights used to be fun. You felt you needed something new, but not too much. Does that make any sense? Something that was a change of scenery but offered you comfort. Made you feel content. Made you feel chill but also satisfied. There was no way to do that, being the teenager you were, apparently.

You thought about your older sister as you scrolled on Netflix. She was always so insufferably happy. As much as you loved her, you found it hard to be enthusiastic about everything 24/7, and yet somehow she managed to do that. You wanted to be that happy, but you knew you'd never be so energetic.

Speaking of your sibling, she was outside your bedroom door, which was always closed. She knocked on it with that same old unmistakable pattern she used. To this, you didn't blink or tear your eyes from the television screen, but you hummed and allowed her to enter the room.

"Hey, Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

You clicked on the same show as normal. That was when you sighed and turned to look at your sister, Minji. You'd expected her to be dressed in her usual evening wear at this time, which was routinely her plain joggers and hoodie. But you were wrong. Minji was sporting this gorgeous, thin black dress, which had off the shoulder bishop sleeves and a cute neckline. Her shoes were leather boots, zipped up to her knees. What was the occasion?

"Uh, Uhm... Minji?" You said, not sure how to address this attire. Her make-up had you guess she was going out - but not to a friend's house.

"Yeah I know. I just wanted to let you know I had these last - minute plans with a few friends of mine. We're... clubbing!" She exclaimed.

Your sister was always sensible. That's how you knew her. She was the older one, and although her happiness made her seem less cautious and more naiive, Minji was genuinely confident in how to look after herself and those around her. You knew this wasn't a big deal - she was just clubbing, and she was very nearly of age anyway, and she could defend herself from trouble.

But... Minji? Clubbing? You weren't sure if that suited her. She used to be very low-key, but in the past few years, you observed how freakishly giggly she always was. You'd suspected she had a boyfriend or something, and maybe this was why she was going clubbing. However, you always pictured her ideas of fun as... Sleepovers, probably.

"Ah... Alright. Will you... Will you be safe?"

That felt like a stupid question to ask. You know for a fact that Minji wouldn't deliberately put herself in any terrible danger, but also knew that going clubbing underage without a proper adult might have been sort of dangerous anyway.

"Mhm," Minji nodded, "I have a r*p* alarm in my bag, and I'll keep my phone turned on. My location will be on snap, okay? Also, my friend's older brother will be supervising us." She assured.

You supposed then that having an adult was confirmed, in that case. Either way, if Minji didn't take those precautions, she had taken martial arts as a child. You knew as a legal witness that she could kick ass if anyone dared touch her.

"Okay," you smiled, "glad you're prepared. Just don't do anything stupid, of course." You added, even though Minji was normally the one to say those words, as she was your older sister - not the other way around.

"Promise! Also, Y/N, my friend Danielle is meeting me here with her brother. I'd... Like you to meet her, please."

You blinked.

This wasn't what she came here to tell you about, surely. Just that she was going out. Not that you'd have to meet anybody. Truth be told, you weren't a very social person. You didn't flow well with the concept of change. You watched the same TV shows at night, you ate the same comfort food, you listened to the same artists, you doodled the same drawings, you hung out with the same people -

Actually, you could see the reason why Minji wanted you to meet her friend. It was pretty clear from how... Selectively social you were. And maybe this wasn't just to help you out; what if this Danielle also had trouble making new friends?

Besides, weren't you just internally complaining about how dull things were these days? How you needed something new to just enlighten you a little? Just a bit? Perhaps this was for the better, and even if you declined, Minji would be able to find a way to bring Danielle to you, instead.

"Yeah, sure." You say.

At this, Minji is completely surprised, but also ecstatic and sure to accept before you change your mind. To avoid this, she tries to respond low-key and just accepts it, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the familiar walls of your bedroom. You felt like a hermit, leaving it finally.

"Great, great. Cool. She'll be here literally any minute now, Y/N. You'll love her, I wouldn't do this if I didn't think you would. She's friendly, she's bright, she's smart, she's pretty, she's Aussie -"

Minji continued to rant about this friend. You began to think that maybe she didn't have a boyfriend, but a fat crush on her friend Danielle. You rolled your eyes a little, but didn't stop her from talking. You were sat down on the couch soon enough, and were waiting sort of nervously for someone to come to the door.

And they did soon. Minji squealed and smacked at her thighs in excitement, rushing to the front entrance to let Danielle inside. Your parents were on a conference trop outside of the area, so they weren't here to question what was going on.

A flowery aroma graced your house. You knew instantly that that scent was Danielle's. Maybe she'd just applied it for the night. When you finally turned around to see her, she was all glammed up and in a dress just as glamorous as Minji's.

She was pretty.

Like, really pretty.

But you told yourself it was the make-up, obviously.

Danielle was smiling very brightly as she kept her eyes on Minji, not the house. As far as you could infer, Danielle was a new, additional friend of your sister's, and she wasn't actually a long-time one. She'd probably never seen your house before, but the way she just focused on her friend made her seem more interesting to you.

Then she startled you by facing your way.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Maybe it was because she caught you studying her, maybe it was because she was frighteningly stunning, maybe it was because you just weren't accustomed to meeting new people. But hell on earth, you weren't expecting such a beautiful gaze to invite you like this.

"Hi, I'm Danielle. Nice to meet you!" She bowed politely, her smile not leaving. It made you feel sort of validated, and you hated yourself for loving this very minor attention.

"Hey, it's nice to meet you, too. I'm Y/N, Minji's younger sister." You introduced yourself, standing up to bow. You got a bit of a headrush from standing too quickly, but you were secretly eager to display how nice you could be.

Minji nearly laughed at how new you were to this, and it was fun seeing the different side of you. The one where you hid how messy and boring you often were. But she had to admit, even when you wore those shapeless sweat pants and that cropped, long-sleeve top, you could be very formal.

"Oh, yes, I've heard quite a few things about you, you know. Not just from Minji, but from my history teacher, Mrs Stokes -"

You'd been partially hooked in Danielle's Australian accent, but upon hearing the name of that one history teacher, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Mrs Stokes was your history teacher.

"Y-you go to my school?" You checked to see if you were right.

"Uh, (school name), right?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, yeah," Minji interrupted, "Dani goes to your school. Did you not... Know that?"

You shook your head, and as your face was turned away from Danielle's, you gave Minji a very mean look. How could she not tell you? And how could she make you look like an idiot by acting as though you did know? You felt a bit betrayed, and also cheated because you thought you will have remembered someone as beautiful as Danielle go to your school.

It had taken you ages to find the group of people at school you hung out with. Nearly everyone who attended the same play was a complete asshole in some way or another, and you'd searched so many times for new friends who you liked better. How was Danielle not someone who caught your eye? How was she not even your corridor crush? How did you not see her, ever?

"Y/N, she's only in the year above you. I'm really surprised you didn't recognise her at least a little, but okay."

"You have Mrs Stokes too, then?" Danielle continued to conversate, not realising Minji was ready to leave the house.

"Uh, I do." You confirmed, "I chose history for my (SATs/GCSEs)."

"Ah, cool! So did I, actually!"

"O-oh, yeah? You enjoy history."

You too continued talking like you were making up for lost time with a friend. You were. You felt really angry at your school, your friends, your sister, the GODS for not letting you and Danielle meet sooner. It was unfair how hard you tried to actually get along with people you found annoying just so you could have friends, and here was the most perfect being on earth??

"Ahem," Minji cleared her throat, looking sort of irritated and awkward for stepping in, but what did she expect when she hyped up Danielle so much? "We'd better be going, Dani, your brother will be waiting on us. Y/N, I bought food today for you, and I'll be back sometime after twelve. Bye!"

"Yeah, bye," you said, feeling sort of dull again.

They both neared the door to leave, but Danielle stopped by you for another moment. She leant in closer, to mutter something a little more quietly to you. You don't think she'll ever know how much that small moment affected your sanity for the rest of that night, though. It made you wish you got to see her again. Would you?

"When I get back Y/N, we have to get to know each other better. I mean, how have we not seen each other more?"

______________________________________

There you have it, Chapter one of...

Get to know you better.

In the past, I've only written things like drafts or lists of headcanons, but I'm gonna write this one properly. Hope this is good, and chapter two should come soon.

Requests are open!

Bye bye! <3

#newjeans #danielle marsh #danielle x reader #newjeans scenarios #newjeans fluff #newjeans imagines #requests are open #bunnies #newjeans x reader #fanfiction

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