#feels like my life has been repeatedly hit with a hammer

[soullessjack]

"tell me on anon what you wouldn’t off anon"

i think dean was straight up abusive towards jack and while there is room for redemption to be explored, in canon, the show did not give him any sort of redemption. in other words in my eyes "canon" dean winchester is an abuser (but canon is unimportant anyways so whatever)

im scared of saying this and getting stoned to death

no need to comment you can just post this without saying anything if you want

- 🏴‍☠️

no no you’re right and you should say it, however I disagree that Dean was completely abusive and that there was never any canon redemption.

firstly I think there’s a slight difference in someone being abusive vs being an abuser;

abuse (or abusive behavior/tendencies) can happen accidentally, unintentionally, especially if it’s resulted from trauma (like Dean’s). you can be completely unaware that something you’ve done or said is abusive, especially because being abusive can be as simple as yelling or hitting someone, or treating them unfairly (like jack). people who have abusive tendencies or behaviors are capable of regretting it and wanting/trying to change…whereas an abuser is wholly aware, intentional and remorseless about their actions. they know what they are doing, they know it’s immoral/inhumane and they just don’t care—either because they feel entitled or justified in some way, or even if they don’t.

Dean has repeatedly shown plenty of regret, guilt and blatant self hatred for his abusive tendencies and how they affect the people around him. It’s one of the most important parts of his character, being the crux of his self worth and why he can’t accept that people (Cas) genuinely care about him or consider him a good person. When he refers to himself as “daddy’s blunt instrument” or “poison,” it isn’t just about being a hunter whose life constantly risks other peoples inescapably, it’s also about the violent nature that’s instilled into Dean constantly by John and how both of those things either isolates him from getting close to anyone else, or drives away people who do get close. That’s why there’s no light at the end of the tunnel for Dean, why he’s so resigned to dying bloody. It’s all he thinks he can ever have or really deserve.

When Jack is dying in 14x07, Dean physically cannot stand to see it. He’s angry that Jack is dying so young and so out of nowhere; he thinks it’s unfair and wrong, point blank. But above all else, (as Sam says) Dean canonically has never forgotten or forgiven himself for how he had treated Jack, even though by this point in time they’ve already had a good relationship for the past two years. He’s angry and upset that Jack is dying, but he’s also upset because he still thinks, after all this time, that he’s never been able to fully make up for what he did, and now he’s lost any chance to with Jack’s limited time. That’s why Dean decides to take him on the road trip; that’s why he says “Who would’ve thought being around me (the person who treated you terribly at one point) would make you (the person who didn’t deserve it) sentimental?”

When Dean leaves Jack’s room for the last time and wounds up being absent for his death, he’s even more upset about it, and later brings it up to take a dig at Sam for thinking he didn’t do enough for Jack because, by Dean’s own admission, Sam had always been the one to do more. “At least you were there for him [because I wasn’t, and I see that as another failure on top of everything else I did to him before].” And then, after the three of them get hammered in Jack’s memory, Dean turns to Cas and asks, “we did everything we could, right?” There’s a lot more in 14x07 but I’ll leave it alone for now, and move onto the redemption part of what you said.

I know I said I disagreed, but really it’s only partially; instead I believe that the show simply didn’t give enough time for a complete redemption (save me spn revival wish fulfillments, spn revival wish fulfillments save me). The end of S14 is basically the destruction of the Team Free Will 2.0 found family unit, not just between Dean and Cas, but also between Dean and Sam, and Jack and the three of them. And I think the reason there’s so much more emphasis on Dean’s relationship with Jack (+ why the family unit falling apart is specifically centered on it) is specifically because of how they started; Dean was initially the only one to be distrustful of Jack and mistreat him as a result, whereas Sam and Cas were willing to see Jack with more humanity and goodness, and when Jack proved that he was good that was the crux of Dean’s guilt going forward; his distrust was wrong and misguided, and the abuse he put Jack through because of it was even more wrong and undeserved.

But then after Mary’s death, the three of them have no idea what to think. They’re more reluctant than Bobby is to admit that Jack could have simply had his evil bone activated after losing his soul/eating Michael’s grace, but they aren’t excluding the idea either. The question up in the air now is: “Was Dean right all along? Were we wrong for trusting Jack and thinking he was good? Is all of this our fault?” (and going back to 14x07, the basic ‘framework’ of Dean’s dynamic with Jack is basically ‘I was wrong about you being evil and now that I love you I want to be keep being wrong about you being evil’ and ‘I want you to be wrong about me being evil too, especially now that you love me and I love you’).

Sam, Dean, Cas and Jack are all presented with the worst case scenario that had always been hanging over Jack’s entire existence. None of them want to believe it after growing so close to him (and vice versa), but they’re not given much else to consider. Mary’s death was one thing, one horrible tragic wound reopening, but they knew it was an accident and they knew Jack had tried to fix it. It isn’t until Duma got her claws into Jack and ordered him to kill nonbelievers that TFW finally decides they have to do something final about Jack, and Dean resumes his militant Kill All Monsters behavior. He’s dissociating into the blunt instrument mindset to protect himself from the grief of losing his mother and potentially losing his son. He can’t even bear to consider Jack his son anymore, both because of Mary and the task of killing him, so Jack becomes “just another monster,” in his dissociative mind. His son wouldn’t have killed Mary or tortured Nick or murdered people randomly because his son was a good person, and his son does not deserve to die, but whatever identical monster has inexplicably replaced Jack would certainly do that and certainly does deserve to die.

Dean’s “poison” is rooted in the fact that his coping mechanisms are intertwined with abusive tendencies and behaviors. He pushes people away if he thinks he doesn’t deserve their respect or love, and he buries any emotional attachment to them because he knows it’s his greatest weakness. That’s why he couldn’t bring himself to shoot Jack, regardless of the grief he felt for Mary or how much he tried to see Jack as a monster that wasn’t really his son. When Jack knelt down, said “I understand. I know what I’ve done. And you were right all along. I am a monster,” and then waited for the gun to go off, that’s what snapped Dean out of it. That’s what got him to see that this was still his son—that and the road trip from 14x07 flashing before his eyes. The grief he feels for Mary’s death is still painful and will be for a long time, but he won’t let it cloud him from seeing that his son is still there and still a good person who deserves the chance to make it right and be forgiven.

That militant dissociation comes back again following Jack’s death and Chuck’s retaliation/reveal that they’ve been nothing but a bunch of lowbrow Truman Burbanks to an unfeeling deity their entire lives. The most recent Destivorce is because Dean has constantly been pushing Cas away and severing their ties to cope with the situation. It’s bad throughout all of S15, but it’s especially worse towards the end when Dean is rampant on Jack’s suicide bomb plan happening for a chance at freedom. I’ve seen a LOT of people say that Dean’s love is conditional because of this, but it really…isn’t.

If Dean never cared about Jack, he’d never take time out of his life to spend some final moments with him, or share a specific father/son memory with him to indirectly communicate that he does see Jack as a son, but ultimately doesn’t feel like he deserves to be a father. If he truly felt that Jack “wasn’t family,” he wouldn’t have shown any of the concern for Jack that he did after Jack detonated in the Empty (frantically demanding to know if he’s alive and to bring him back); he wouldn’t have tried to apologize to Jack for hearing it, and he wouldn’t have *checks transcript* reacted in mild horror at Jack agreeing with what he said (and personally, if I’m insulting someone, I would want them to feel the same way that I feel).

Additionally, If Dean’s love is conditional, particularly on the basis of how useful someone is to him, then he wouldn’t have been expecting Jack to come back home with them or considering buying him actual gifts (a flat screen TV and a recliner, specifically for his room in the Bunker I might add) for saving the world.

Out of all the problems S15 had, I think the pacing was the absolute worst. Too many plots and one-off characters and plot devices squeezed into a short amount of episodes; too much focus put into filler instead of plot progression, etc etc. But what it absolutely missed out on was granting any of the characters any proper closure. I think that’s why Dean’s conflict with Jack feels so unresolved and unredeemed. Dean gets mean -> Dean feels bad -> Dean gets nice again, but that’s about it. For now I tend to view his dynamic with Jack as them being two sides of the same coin: Dean feels like he doesn’t deserve to be a father figure to Jack after everything he did, and Jack feels like he doesn’t deserve to be a part of their family as a son after everything he did.

[inspectingg]

Exterminator (Gruvia AU) Chapter 9 - Flourish

© 2023 inspectingg (on tumblr, wattpad and fanfiction.net). All rights reserved.

Synopsis: The administration indisputably decided that social status not only determined one’s wealth, but also life or death. Driven by corruption, those who thrived at the top of the chain dominated the world. Desperate to seize absolute control, Exterminators were given the decree to kill. With the entire fate of the human race under their control, it is imperative to lose all morality and sentiment. When killing people is a full-time job, it becomes second nature for Gray Fullbuster. But when the first person he has ever vowed to protect was his next victim, he makes the difficult decision to keep her under his care, training her to kill – or else be killed.

Genres: romance, action & dystopian.

This fanfiction contains violence and sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Author’s note: two chapters updated in a row!? i'm trying to squeeze in as much writing as i can before i get busy again x0. i hope you guys enjoy another chapter of juvia suffering :( ! trust me it will get more fluffy in a few chapters' time :3 there is an exciting gruvia scene in this chapter that will make you hot and bothered ;)

Chapter IX - Flourish

Juvia’s gaze aimlessly fell to the metal bars that meandered around the edge of the tunnels. The ten-metre fall loomed at her feet, inviting her to take another step. Its gloomy shadows enticed her to swing her legs over, straddling the metal between her thighs until she could no longer feel the ground beneath her. 

Jump. 

Her eyes would roll backwards as she was brought back into the tunnel. The wind fights against her hair. Her skin burns from the force and she’s taken by the void. Before she could test those thoughts, she is interrupted by the clatter of Erza’s boots. 

“If you want to die, do it somewhere else.” The Commander’s scarlet eyes flickered between the drop and Juvia’s staggering figure. “I’m busy as it is already.”

“Why did you pair me with Gajeel?” Erza stopped in her tracks. “All my opponents have been in higher ranks,” Juvia stammered. “I don’t see how that’s fair.” Erza immediately swirls her head to face the drifter. 

“I’m always fair,” she hissed. Raising a hand, she slipped a finger down Juvia’s cheek. “I gave you the opportunity to climb the ranks.” Juvia flinched from her nail scraping down her bruised skin. “If you bothered to fight properly, you would’ve rosen the ranks and we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, would we?” Her breath hammered against Juvia’s face. “You’ve gotten plenty of help already from a certain someone.” Juvia gulped in response. “Does that answer your question?”

Juvia gave her a small nod and moved away uneasily. 

“Good,” Erza smiled. She turned her head to leave, allowing her hair to follow her like a blaze. “Oh, I forgot to tell you.” Juvia flinched as she felt her face burn. Erza’s lips adorned an intense red tint as she let a tongue flicker against her upper lip. “Bora is alive.” 

Juvia winced as a ringing punctured her ears. “You’ll pay. You’ll pay. You’ll pay” She was once again faced with the disfigured man who taunted her with a playful smile. Its flesh gleamed bright red and patches of skin peeled away, revealing the face of a normal man. His features twisted from blotches of red and reverted back to an ordinary man. Juvia couldn’t help but approach him carefully, started by his transformation. She raised a hand in shock, but was knocked over her feet as a stench tickled her nose, sending a rush of sulphur into her oesophagus. She lurched over to cough. A sting at her shoulder caught her motionless. She convulsed as she found a familiar dagger hanging out from her flesh, sending blood running down her body. Before she could recover her posture, the man twisted his neck to meet her face-to-face. 

“Juvia Lockser,” it shrieked, “you’ll pay.” 

Juvia screamed as a fist suddenly hammered against the man’s face repeatedly. With every hit, his face distorted into patches of red and black. Before she could stop what was happening, she realised the man was the one that tried to throw her over the edge, and Gray had killed him. 

A guttural sound escaped his lips and the man began to whimper, its lipless mouth formed a pool of blood before eventually dissipating away into its rotting body. A puddle of frayed skin and flesh piled into a viscous liquid that slithered into the earth. 

Juvia collapsed as her legs gave out. Every moment since she has existed felt like a crime. She buried her head into her hands. An ache grappled at her chest and she let it lave over as she crumbled to the floor. Juvia stared at the reflection of herself on the tiled ground. Before she could take a look, she felt her stomach jab at her skin, as if trying to escape. Her own existence disgusted her. No longer was she able to cry away her pain and troubles. It wasn’t physically possible for her anymore. Dabbing her eyes with the back of her hand, she was surprised to find them dry. She was fearful of how weak she was. A sudden feeling of needing to be strong washed away the unrelenting pain in her shoulder.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

The trenches were silent. All the other recruits were in bed but Juvia stood at the centre of the training grounds. She formed her hand into a fist and lashed out onto a punching bag. Her bruised arms raised tirelessly, trying to match the speed she was constantly hit with. She felt her blood boil when she let Bora’s elbow slam into her face. Juvia threw out another punch, allowing the bag to sting her knuckles. His grip strangled her until she could no longer think straight. Her feet casted a blow to the rough fabric. A crude smile plastered across his face as he pierced the knife through her shoulder. She sent out an array of jabs, letting her blood race through her body. Her ragged breathing vibrated through her ribs, shaking her lungs rapidly. Her knuckles ached and her stomach clenched from the extraneous motion. Her shoulder was hammered with pain. However, she was too enraged to care. A shrill scream repeatedly encircled her, and she only accelerated her movements, desperate to drown everything out. 

A cold hand suddenly enclosed her knuckles. Juvia jerked away in surprise and tumbled backwards. Her waist was enclosed by a strong arm and she found herself staring into Gray’s onyx eyes. A rush of heat flowed through her face as she found her palm pressed to his chiselled chest. He gripped her body against his as he leaned down to inspect her. 

“You’ve lost weight.” 

Juvia promptly took a step to steady herself, pulling away from him. She patted down her clothes and swept a lock of stray hair behind her ear. “Why should that concern you?” she muttered. 

He tousled his hair away from his eyes as they surveyed her cautiously. “You’re right, it doesn’t,” he replied bluntly. 

Juvia felt her eyebrow twitch in annoyance. She wasn’t sure what these feelings were but they confused her. She wanted to stay in his arms, but she was too scared to be close. When he tipped his head closer towards her she wanted to entangle her hands in his hair and kiss him. But when he would nonchalantly touch her with an aloof demeanour, she wanted to slap him away. 

“You…why are you talking to me?” Juvia unconsciously bit her lip. “I thought I said I didn’t want to see you ever again.” 

Gray sighed as he brushed a hand behind his neck. “I don’t know.” His eyes drifted down to Juvia’s feet. 

“That’s all you say,” Juvia muttered. “At least you could make up something.” She took a step back when he leaned down on a knee. “Anything.” 

“I don’t know how to express myself,” he grumbled. His hands followed her stride and caught the loose shoelace between his fingers. “I’m… not sure why I act like this.” No words left Juvia’s mouth as she swallowed down a sob. She watched in silence as he lowered his head to fix her laces. Her heart pounded vehemently. She pressed a palm to her chest, a pointless attempt at calming it down. His charcoal locks swayed gently with every movement. Juvia suppressed the urge to touch his hair. 

He eventually let go and revealed a tight ribbon at the centre of her shoe. “I do know one thing.” Juvia trembled as he rose, allowing his sculpted figure to tower over her. His gaze locked onto Juvia’s quivering eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Before Juvia could respond, she let out a yelp as he sent a swing at her leg and let her fall backwards. He caught her right as she prepared for a harsh collision. 

“You need to be cautious of everyone,” he whispered. She quivered as his breath tickled her ear. “If your opponent is bigger than you, hit them in the diaphragm.” Juvia forgot how to breathe as she felt his grasp tighten around her waist. With a jerk of his arm, Juvia was pulled back upright. 

He suddenly yanked her arms away from her sides and pinned them together with a steady grip. “When a man takes advantage of you in a fight,” he muttered, “remember to kick them in between the legs.” Before he could finish his sentence, he swung Juvia’s body around and rammed it against the wall. She screamed in response and her eyes widened as her back collided against Gray’s arm. Juvia struggled against his hold but he did not budge. His other free hand trailed down her hip and latched on her underthigh. Juvia mewled in response but quickly pressed her palm to her mouth in surprise.

“If someone is about to kick you, get closer to them.” He trailed her thigh with a thumb. “They won’t have enough room to land an accurate hit.” Juvia’s arms flailed desperately above her head. She swallowed hard as the sensation of his hand on her thigh started to leave a burning trail. His chest was pressed against hers and his other hand tightened around her hands. With an aggressive tug, Gray wrapped her leg around his waist. “Are you listening?” 

Juvia blinked in shock, her lips moving to form words but nothing was uttered. His eyes were steady as he peered down at her. She felt every one of his exhales caress her cheek. With his body encased around her, every feature on his face was captivating. His lips were slightly chapped, but they invited her to lean in closer. The way his eyebrows furrowed together accentuated his charcoal gaze, sending her into a state of frenzy she never knew she had in her body. Even the scar etched on his forehead striked her heart. 

Juvia found herself completely infatuated by Gray, the Exterminator who could kill her at any moment.    

[noteguk]

sweet | jjk | m

— summary; in which Jungkook just wants to be good for you. 

— contents and warnings; smut, pwp, established relationship, sub!jungkook x dom!reader, begging, crying :), good boy kink, handjob, blowjob, orgasm control & denial, cum eating 

— words; 1.3k

— author’s note; this is just a quick drabble for a mental image that has been plaguing me for some time so I’m gonna share it with all of you. Enjoy. 

After much thought, you had long come to the inevitable conclusion that you might have the best boyfriend in the world. 

Jungkook was the sweetest man you had ever met, the nicest and most polite little thing that had ever crossed your way. Even if he was far from perfect — after all, everyone had their flaws — his good side was almost blinding, making you quickly forget about his bad habits and annoying ticks. 

He was so good, so obedient, that he didn’t rebel against your commands, even when you brought him down from the most unsatisfying edging of his life. You watched as his large hands grabbed fistfuls of the sheets, his hips bucking up in a failed attempt to find any sort of friction. His cock was beautifully hard, engorged and red, bouncing against his abdomen as he whined and fumbled around, frustrated out of his mind. 

“P-please,” Jungkook stammered, his voice breathy and high-pitched. You were kneeling between his legs, watching the droplets of sweat that had started to accumulate on his chest, sparkling on his sweet golden skin like small diamonds. “Please, I can’t take it anymore, please—“ 

A hiccup interrupted his plea when your hand wrapped around his length, squeezing it tightly. Jungkook cried out at the feeling, hips bucking up against your palm pitifully. He was such a breathtaking mess: cheeks blushed and lips parted, the soft flesh swollen from the harsh kisses you had given him and also from the friction of his teeth against it. You wished you could keep that image forever ingrained in your memory. 

“Please, pleeeease,” he tried again, moaning when your thumb started playing with his slit, spreading his precum all over himself. Jungkook had been edged so many times that he was absolutely soaked by his own wetness, his chest rising and falling quickly; ears ringing with a sense of numb anticipation. “Please, __, let me cum, I need to cum, please.” 

You pouted, stopping your movements all together. His heavy cock fell back down, making Jungkook wince with the sudden hit against his skin. “What did I say, baby?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. “You cum when I decide that you can. Don’t you wanna be good for me?” 

“Yes, yes, I do,” Jungkook whined, fighting back the tears that started to grow on the corners of his shining eyes. God, he was the sweetest boy in the world. “I wanna be good for you, I just can’t- I can’t take it anymore.” 

“Why are you talking back, baby?” You asked, trailing the palm of your hand over his defined abs. Jungkook’s gym addiction was a blessing, and you knew he could turn you over and fuck you mercilessly if he decided to do so. But he was being obedient, holding himself back just like you had told him to. “I thought you were my good boy, and you can’t even do what I ask?” 

Jungkook sobbed at that, head thrown back against the pillow and cock throbbing pathetically on his pelvis. You wondered if he could cum like that, just with the eagerness that was flooding his veins. “I’m- I’m your good boy, yes,” he moaned out, desperate. “I’m so good for you, please. Please, let me cum.” 

You melted at his frenzied words, almost feeling the hunger which lived inside him, surging his hips upwards. Jungkook was the best boy, and you could not say anything against that. He had refrained from touching himself like you asked him to; he had not complained for the first few times you had denied him of his release; done everything you asked and now you were tilting him over his limits. You didn’t want to push him too far, even if he hadn’t used the safe word, because he was the most precious little thing you had ever seen, and the last thing you wanted was to have him upset with you. 

“You are, baby… you’re so good for me,” you eased in, watching as Jungkook struggled for air. Your hand trailed back down to touch his member, and the simple contact made Jungkook mewl out your name, thighs parting so you could move a bit closer. “And good boys like you deserve presents, no?” 

“Y-yes,” it was getting hard to speak when you started to pump his cock slowly, feeling it twitch between your fingers. Jungkook was absurdly close to his release, eyes glazed over and covered by a thin veil of tears. The pretty sounds he was making were traveling straight to your core, growing into a pool of wetness between your thighs. He was so, so sweet. You couldn’t even grasp how lucky you were. “Feels so good… A-are you going to let me cum?” He tried again. 

“Yes, baby,” you told him, and the sentence was enough to make the boy cry out in relief, hands digging into the mattress. The tears had already marked down his flushed cheeks, his nose now painted in the softest shade of pink. Jungkook always looked so beautiful when he cried, it was almost unfair. “Where does my good boy want to cum?” 

“A-anywhere?” He struggled to say. 

“Anywhere,” you agreed, squeezing his tip in a way that had him sobbing out a curse. “My good boy can cum wherever he wants. You deserve it.” 

And Jungkook almost came at your words alone, his mind a jumbled mess of incoherent thoughts and frantic needs. He couldn’t even believe that you would actually let him cum after so long, and the newfound wave of pleasure was so overwhelming that he thought he might faint if you didn’t end his suffering soon enough. 

“Y-Your mouth, please, please,” he moaned, chest heaving with his prolonged euphoria. Jungkook could feel his release building up in his spine, tugging on his balls and making his cock throb in your grasp. He couldn’t tell if he was in heaven or in hell. “It’s too much… N-now, p-please—“ 

No need to ask you twice. You leaned over and wrapped your lips around his crown, licking around his sensitive tip until Jungkook was whining and sobbing for more, his thighs shaking on either side of your body. You did as he requested, done with all the torturing, and shoved all of him inside your mouth in one swift motion. Jungkook was calling your name repeatedly, interrupting them with curses and praises, his hazed eyes glued to the movement of your head, mouth sinking up and down on his cock until he was almost hitting the back of your throat. 

“Oh-oh my g-god! Don’t stop, don’t stop!” He moaned, his voice was a pitiful cry for more. Jungkook felt like his entire body was burning up, heart hammering against his ribs as his mind became completely blank. “Please, please, I’m so close, I’m gonna cum, ple— fuck!” 

Jungkook spilled inside your mouth with a loud , high-pitched moan of relief, intoxicated by the feeling of your throat tightening around him, sucking him through his high. You heard him whimpering as you swallowed around him, licking his cock clean and drinking every drop of cum he had given you so eagerly. Like the sweet boy that he was, he fought against his sensitivity and waited until you were done, shivering and cursing under your touches. 

At last, you raised yourself from between his legs and moved closer to him, watching as that heavenly fucked-out look of his only deepened with your approach. Sometimes you thought that you didn’t even deserve someone like that, he was too cute. 

“Thank you.” Jungkook breathed out, wrapping one arm around your waist. “Was I good?” 

You smiled and placed a soft kiss against his lips. “The best, baby.” 

[dracowars]

Hi could you write something where the reader is on the place of Hermione on the manor during DH1. And Narcissa sees her memories and finds out she's with Draco and how happy he looks with her. Happy ending please🥺 also Hufflepuff reader

daffodil | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x hufflepuff!reader

word count: 2,3k

summary: where narcissa is y/n's last hope

a/n: rip helen mccrory <3

warnings: angst, torture, mentions of blood

universe: harry potter

Trying to suppress your tears, you have to helplessly watch as your close friends Harry, Ron and Hermione are pushed away from the large, dark room to the basement, leaving you alone. Not actually alone, but in the sense of everyone who remains in this room now, will not help you out of here. It all began so well and was going smoothly.

Your plan was almost perfect, it should not have failed. Nevertheless, you were caught by Death Eaters and taken to Malfoy Manor, the mansion of the Malfoy family, which ironically also includes your boyfriend. Draco, of course, did not know about your plan, otherwise he might have accidentally given something away. You wanted to tell him, but you could not bring yourself to do it. You did not want to disappoint your friends and risk your plan. Anyway, it seems like Draco does not know what his own family is up to either.

“So, you are the pathetic little Hufflepuff girl who sniffed around in my dungeon in Gringotts and stole, huh?”, Bellatrix directs her sharp words at you after she made sure that her sister safely locked your friends in the cellar. “Speak!”

“I do not know what you are talking about”, you lie to her, your whole body visibly shaking in fear. You have heard numerous stories about Bellatrix Lestrange, and one was worse than the other. She is merciless and will not stop until she gets what she wants and that is exactly why you are not quite sure yourself why you suddenly have the audacity to lie directly into her face in this moment when it is obvious that you definitely know what she is talking about.

“Do not lie to me, you cheeky brat! How did you get my sword!?”, she furiously screams at you all of a sudden, anger in her eyes, making you shrink back a little. With her crazy sparkling eyes, she takes another step towards you until you retreated so far back against the wall that you have no way out, no way to escape her.

Before you can answer, however, you already feel the tip of her wand against your throat and you have to swallow hard as she drills it deeper, an insane smile on her pale lips.

“Well, if you do not want to speak, I will gladly force you to speak”, she giggles wickedly and before you know it, she harshly grabs you by the arm and forces you onto the cold wooden floor. You can intercept your fall with your hands in the last moment. Scared, you turn around to face her, your gaze falling on Narcissa, who watches the scene unfold in front of her without a word, just like her husband.

Nobody in Draco’s family knows about your relationship and so far, it has always been better that way. Even so, you do not come around wondering what if they did know about it right now. What if his mother knew about your undying love for each other? What if you would tell her right here, right now that you were the one who was always on her son’s side when he felt bad, that you cheered him up in his darkest times and supported him when no one else did. You were with him after he was declared a Death Eater and you were there when he decided against murdering your headmaster. You were there for him all this time when his family was not.

You can’t continue your thoughts when Bellatrix suddenly kicks you in the abdomen and you softly groan in pain, curling up on the floor.

“I will not ask you a second time: Where did you get the Gryffindor sword from?”, Bellatrix interrogates you again and harshly turns you on your back with her foot, using all her strength to prevent you from moving. Slowly she makes it hard for you to breathe and you desperately try to free yourself from her grip – without any success.

Since you still have not answered her question, she ends up pointing her wand at you threateningly again and before you even have the chance to admit anything, she puts an unforgivable curse on you.

“Crucio!”

Your body writhes in pain on the floor, screams escaping your mouth louder and stronger every second. You try to defy the curse, but you are too weak and can’t defend yourself, having to suffer the worst pain you have ever felt in your entire life.

And despite all of this, your thoughts go back to Draco. His smiling face appears in your mind and his gentle laughter echoes in your ears.

“D-Draco”, you gasp in pain and suddenly all of the pain disappears at once. Bellatrix has now lowered her wand and looks at you in confusion. But not only does she, but Draco’s parents as well.

“I did not ask about Draco!”, Bellatrix freaks out again in a matter of seconds and finally crawls over your weakened body, your faces so close to each other that you can feel her breath on your skin. “You have played enough games.”

At her words, you feel this unendurable pain again, but this time it feels different. It does not come from within you, you can still feel your body as a whole, and it feels a lot more realistic until you suddenly feel her rip open your arm with a sharp dagger inch by inch. Screeching in pain, you try to throw her off you, but she presses you onto the hard ground with all of her might and strength.

Exhausted, your head falls to one side, your body twitching at every painful touch on your arm. Tears flow down your already damp cheeks and you look at Draco’s mother through your blurry vision. She has averted her gaze from the terrible scenario.

“D-Draco.. I-“, you stutter out, the feeling of weightlessness from being on the verge of passing out obfuscating your words and thoughts. Still, you know that there is only one last chance that may get you out of here alive, even though you may regret it in the end.

“I love him”, you cry out in a heartbreaking voice which Bellatrix does not seem to mind at all. Narcissa, however, lifts her head in an instant and looks directly at you, her eyes full of sadness as far as you can tell by your restricted vision. Your eyelids are getting heavier by the second and just when you are about to pass out completely, you notice how Narcissa finally comes closer and thus puts an abrupt end to your unbearable pain.

“Legilmens”, her soft broken voice whispers and the world around you begins to spin, to transform.

And suddenly you are peacefully lying in a bed that is all too familiar to you, your gaze focused on the door that is opening at this very moment, revealing none other than Draco himself. You feel strange, weird, as if you have experienced all of this before. As soon as Draco enters the room with his head hanging low, you uncontrollably run into his arms. You speak to him with calming words until everything starts blurring in front of your eyes and you find yourself in a different place.

You are in a flooded bathroom, a slim and fragile figure trembling from crying from the bitter sobs at the sink in front of you.

“Draco”, you hear your own voice softly speak up and he jolts, turning around to you, his eyes red and swollen, his face completely dejected. Not another second goes by and you lie in his arms again, comforting him.

“I can’t do this anymore, Y/N. It hurts so much”, Draco’s echoing sobs ring in your ear as he rolls up the sleeve of his white shirt, revealing the Dark Mark. “Please help me.”

However, you are not able to help him because you are forcibly torn away from the moment again and land in a large, wide meadow of flowers. Warmth created by the burning sunlight flows through you and the exclamation of your name from the distance brings a happy smile to your face immediately. Not far from you Draco runs up the hill towards you, a smile as bright and wide as yours decorating his beautiful facial features. Quickly, you get up from the soft picnic blanket that you have placed in the meadow and greet him with a firm hug.

The next moment, you lie on the blanket, hugging and looking up at the clear starry sky after the sun has already set hours ago. Draco repeatedly points to different shining stars which form a constellation, telling you everything he learned in astronomy, while you can’t take your eyes off him.

When he finally notices your gaze, he turns his head towards you so that the tips of your nose are almost touching. Neither of you say a word and you just stare into each other’s eyes lovingly.

“I love you”, your voice carefully confesses and your heart hammers against your chest.

“I love you too”, Draco replies, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss.

The safe and happy feeling suddenly gets teared away from you and you find yourself back in the dark room of the Malfoy Manor. Shocked and not so sure about what has just happened, you straighten up. Only now do you realize that Bellatrix had let go of you in the meantime and is now looking down at you with widened eyes, standing closely behind her sister.

It hits you like a train when you realize that Narcissa has just used Legilimency on you, which caused you to be subjected to a rapid succession of passing memory scenes and in some cases even made you briefly lose consciousness. Thus, not only your expressed thoughts or perceptible feelings were revealed to her, but also your hidden feelings and experiences as well as your most secret desires.

An extremely uncomfortable silence arises in the room while all eyes are on you and only you. Lucius and Bellatrix seem rather angry at something, with Narcissa looking at you with pity and sadness.

“Take my hand”, Narcissa breaks the silence first, but because of her words you only look at her in confusion when she extends her hand to you. Looking back and forth between her outstretched hand and her face, for some inexplicable reason, you realize that she actually wants to help you.

As soon as your hands touch, everything around you blurs again and the next thing you know everything goes black. You feel pressure on your body from all directions and you find it difficult to breathe until everything around you takes on its usual color again, allowing you to breathe in deeply.

You feel the ground beneath your feet and notice that you are standing upright. And you notice that your and Narcissa’s hand are still connected. Startled, you pull your hand out of her grasp and look around.

“Where did you take me?!”, you angrily ask her, the place where you are now not seeming familiar to you and the fact that she just kidnapped you after invading your privacy makes you feel even more confused.

“To safety”, Narcissa replies shortly and it seems she wants to add something when her gaze suddenly slides past you, to something hat has now apparently appeared behind you.

“Mum?”

“Draco?”, you breathe out in relief when you hear his voice behind you and immediately turn around to him. Tears well up in your eyes and you run into Draco’s arms at lightning speed, but Draco seems to be quite perplexed. After all, he does not know what happened.

“W-What?”, he tries to form meaningful words while still not returning your hug, standing there rigid and tense.

“She knows about us”, you whisper in his ear while sobbing and his posture relaxes from one second to the other and he wraps his arms tightly around your trembling body without hesitation, his face disappearing in the crook of your neck.

“What happened?”, Draco asks you worried as he gently loosens the hug and takes your face between in his hands, not understanding why you are crying. With a shake of your head, you indicate that you do not want to talk about it and he understands, giving you the space you need, before his gaze falls back on his mother, who is watching you two silently.

“I am sorry”, Narcissa finally clears her throat, causing you to look at her as well. Tears have now also formed in her eyes, but her lips are adorned by a gentle smile as she looks at you. “It should never have come to this.”

“Why did you do that? Why did you help me?”, you want to know and step closer to her, your hand intertwined with Draco’s.

“I was inside of your head and saw all of your memories”, she explains and while she nervously plays with the long black sleeves of her beautiful dress, she looks up from the ground again. “I have seen how happy you make my son. I could not let them harm you or it would break him. You- You are too important to Draco.”

You are speechless at her words and Draco seems pretty stunned by what his mother said as well. Before either of you can comment on it though, she speaks up again.

“I will make sure that your friends get free”, she adds, letting her inner conflict reflect in her soft voice. “Stay with Draco. You are safe here until I have clarified everything. I will come back.”

“Mum-“

“I promise you that everything will be fine”, she gently smile at him, giving both of you a loving hug, before she disapparates into thin air and probably reappears where she has just saved your life moments ago.

[thenovelartist]

The Drunken Vow - Tears of Themis

Number 3 in the "Drunk Wedding" series, here's Marius.

Wow. The hammer smashing repeatedly into his head was a real pain.

Marius didn’t want to so much as move despite knowing he had to. It took him a hot minute to realize the reason he felt like he’d been hit by a truck was because he was hungover to high heaven and back. He cursed himself. Normally, he was far better at pacing himself so he doesn’t get trashed like this, and yet, here he was. Must have made a drinking exception last night for his graduation party.

When the bright idea lingered in his head that maybe he should go grab some aspirin, he took hold of it. Though, it did take him another minute to get up.

And when he did, he realized he wasn’t the only person in bed. His heart stopped.

What did he dooooo?

He didn’t want to look. He so did not want to look at the woman he brought home with him. What in the hell was he thinking?

Had he been thinking?

Probably not.

But still, he wouldn’t do that! At least, he thought he would never stoop that low. Besides he was in love with Rosa. He wouldn’t chose any other girl beside her.

Right?

With a groan, he fell back on his pillow, shutting his eyes and cursing himself for the second time this morning. He was a total piece of trash. Either that, or he was drunk enough to be swayed by some girl who took advantage of his inebriated state to get with him. There were a lot of those types of girls; another reason he tried to limit his drinks.

He rubbed his eyes, only to feel something metallic slide across his face. He barely registered it, but it was enough to make him look at his hands. When he caught sight of a ring on his left hand, he narrowed his eyes down at the unfamiliar band. He didn’t recall wearing any last night. So why…

Oh.

Oh…

Um… does the wedding ring go on the left hand? It was the left, right? Or was it the right?

He couldn’t think straight.

Steeling himself, he decided that he not only had to see just who was beside him in bed, but whether she was wearing a ring or not. Because if she was…

He didn’t want to think about it.

He turned his head, looking at the girl. Her back was to him; her nearly bare back, he realized. The covers had sunk down her shoulders to reveal the fact he could only see her in her underwear. Which started up a whole new round of blushing for Marius. How far did they go last night? Because for the life of him, he honestly could not remember.

After taking a breath, he forced himself up on his elbow so as to get a better look at the petite brunette beside him. As he pulled the sheet back up over her shoulders to preserve her modesty, he took a look at her face—

And dropped the sheet.

That was his beloved Rosa…

Oh, shhhh—

Frozen in place, his mind had come to a screeching halt. Rosa was in bed with him, they were both nearly naked, and yes, they both had rings. Plain gold bands, but there was no denying that they weren’t matching wedding rings.

Meaning they got married last night?

How could that have even happened? While Marius may have called it a graduation party, it was hardly anything of the sort: a couple of his college friends, their girlfriends, and Rosa, who he’d begged to come with him. They were all being responsible, right?

Right?

For the life of him he could not remember.

With a sigh, he rolled back onto his back and stared blankly up at the ceiling. Lifting up his hand, he stared at the ring, and a wave of disappointment hit him like a truck. He’d wanted this. He’d really wanted this, being married to Rosa. But not like this. He had been still trying to convince her to go out with him in the first place. Whether or not last night could be classified as their “first date” when it was really just a “fake date to dissuade any ribbing from his not-single friends” was still up for debate. He had been so close to asking her out for real, but just as he always did, he somehow chickened out and put up that too-flirty persona before cursing himself for it.

He let his hand drop, his arm now covering his face as he let loose a tired groan. Geez, he was an idiot.

“Marius?”

The sweet voice rang from beside him had him tensing up again. He lifted his arm from his head, squinting at the sudden reintroduction of light to his eyes as he looked over at Rosa who was now looking over at him with wide eyes.

He wanted to flirt, to do something, anything, to loosen the intense tension between them. But this was the one time he really couldn’t string anything together. He blamed it on the hangover. “Er… hi?”

Was she blushing? He was pretty sure she was blushing as she clutched the sheets against her chest and turned over to face him. “H-hey.”

Wow, this was so awkward. “Umm…” he started stupidly. “Uh… I think… did we get married last night?”

Rosa’s eyes could rival saucers with how wide they got. “What?”

This time, Marius forced a smile while he raised his left hand and pointed to the ring on it. “You’re in one, too.”

Her wide eyes shot down to her left hand. She blinked once. Twice.

“Holy cats, I’m Mrs. Von Hagen!”

…

Fifteen minutes later, they had gotten dressed and were now in the kitchen, staring at the marriage certificate Marius had found crumpled in the back of his discarded pants pocket. The smell of coffee that Rosa had started permeated the kitchen, and frankly, Marius was dying for a cup. Between the hangover and the headache from his drunk marriage, he really needed the caffeine. And maybe an aspirin.

Beside him, also staring at the offending document, Rosa was standing in clothes she’d stolen from his closet and somehow looked better in than he ever could. Marius, on the other hand, had barely enough wits about him to throw on a pair of comfortable pants and plain tee shirt.

“This… it’s legal, isn’t it?” Marius asked despite all ready knowing the answer.

She nodded. “Yeah. It means we’re legally married.”

Guilt wracked him even more. This wasn’t how he wanted to go about things. At the very least, he actually wanted to remember getting married. Best he could recall was his graduation party had gotten very out of hand and he’d allowed himself far too many drinks. Rosa then recalled leaving with him in a taxi, and she was pretty sure she remembered kissing him—which had sent Marius into a blushing panic because why couldn’t he remember THAT sweet memory?—but that was the extent of it. What had happened after that was something neither Rosa nor Marius could recall.

“I’m shocked at you.”

Marius glanced over to the girl giving him a confused look. “What?”

“You haven’t cracked one inappropriate joke yet.”

Though stunned for a second, he let out a self-depreciating chuckle before shooting her a forced smile. “Sorry, Miss Attorney. Or should I say Mrs. Attorney. Guess the shock of being married to you has really gotten to my head.”

“There we go,” she said with a wink.

She was going to kill him, but he would at least go down smiling albeit hopelessly embarrassed. “I’m more concerned for what we’re going to do about… this.” He pushed the paper over to her.

She giggled as she straightened the paper out in front of her. “I’m surprised you didn’t even suggest ‘hey, let’s just stay married’.”

He huffed, running a hand through is messy hair. “Like you’d go for that.”

“I totally would.”

He froze. Wait… what?

Looking over at Rosa, who was smiling at him with a feisty twinkle in her eye that he loved more than anything, Marius’ heart began to beat wildly. “You serious?”

“What do you think?”

He thought that if she was serious, he would die of happiness. He’d been trying to figure out how to best ask her out, seeing as all his previous attempts had been thwarted. There may or may not have been a painting he’d been working on as a gift to present to her that may or may not have just been an excuse to avoid figuring out just how to sincerely ask her out. Because he really didn’t want to mess it up.

But now… Now it felt like all that work flew straight out the window because…

“Earth to Marius.”

He blinked a couple times. “Huh?”

“I asked you a question.”

He gaped like a fish as his mind scrambled back to what she’d asked. “Do… you mean it?”

She grinned. “Geez, normally you’re the one who’s all cocky, but look at you now. Apparently, I just have to suggest I might want to stay married to—whaaa!!”

He didn’t let her finish. He swooped her up and set her back on the kitchen counter, trapping her in with his arms. “No, really. Do you mean it?”

“Do I mean what?” she asked, clearly a little dazed at their position.

But he didn’t really care, for once. Instead, he was inwardly freaking out over the possibility that she actually did care for him as much as he did her. “That you’d want to stay married?”

She blinked up at him a couple times before a smile crossed her face. “I do.”

That was all he needed to hear. In a second, he wrapped her up in a hug, garnering a squeak from her as he pushed her back and pinned her fully against the kitchen counter. “You really mean it?” he asked again, desperate to make sure. Because if she really did, he was never going to let her go.

His racing heart somehow settled when she wrapped her arms over his shoulders. “Yeah,” she said, voice sweeter than any dessert he’d ever eaten in his life. “I do. I mean, I didn’t think it would go like this, but—”

“Doesn’t matter,” he cut in, squeezing her tighter. “That’s all I needed to know.”

She giggled, saying nothing and just holding him tighter.

“Wait!” he realized, his foggy mind making it extremely difficult to string his thoughts together. “This means I can kiss you now!”

She blinked up at him before bursting into laughter. “Yes, it does, Mr. Von Ha—mphfff!”

He didn’t give her a chance to finish. He wanted to kiss her, and seeing as she was his wife—his wife!—now, he could do that.

This was really exciting. So exciting that not even the beep of the coffee machine announcing the coffee was finished could pull him away. He had a better drug now than caffeine, anyway.

She pulled away first, and he pouted at the loss.

“Much as I’d love to continue,” she said. “Can it be somewhere more comfortable than the granite countertop?”

Oh… “Sorry,” he said, a bit of guilt slipping in as he picked her up and set her back down on the floor. Or, tried to, anyway. She seemed more than happy to wrap her legs around his waist and cling to him for dear life.

“This is okay,” she murmured into his shoulder.

Yes, he thought, happily tightening his hold on her as he made his way to the couch. Yes, it was.

…

By noon, Marius was freaking out again. For totally valid reasons, he believed, so he really hoped Rosa would stop laughing at him.

“I’m serious!” he cried, pouting. “Do you want a real wedding or not?”

“Marius, calm down, will you? You just spent the last ten minutes obsessing over getting me a new ring—”

“Because you deserve it! I don’t even remember buying you that one, and I didn’t even get you an engagement ring, so can’t I do that?”

“I’ll let you, but not today,” she said, grabbing his phone from him.

“Hey!”

“Mr. Von Hagan,” she said, shooting him a stern look. “As your wife, it is my job to—”

“Wait! You’re my wife now!”

She leveled him with a tired look.

“Do you want to take my last name! Because then we have to get the paperwork for that. And we’ll also have to turn in the certificate, right? And wait a minute! You’ll have to move in! We’ll have to get movers and pack all your stuff and—”

“Marius!”

She slammed her hands down on the armrests of the chair he was sitting in, glaring at him with a look he knew full well meant “stop it.” “Calm down,” she said. “One step at a time, right? You don’t have to fix everything now, okay?”

He wasn’t convinced.

She sighed, hanging her head in exhaustion. “Ugh, I liked it better when you were annoyingly flirty,” she grumbled. When she lifted her head, her stern expression had faded into something softer. “Can’t we just enjoy today and figure things out as we go?”

He supposed they could, but he also didn’t want things to take forever. If she was going to be his wife, he wanted her here with him. Furthermore, he wanted everyone to know she was his…

Wait.

He shot into a panic for the umpteenth time that morning. “The media! I’ll have to call Vincent right now and tell him to pressure the news to tamp this down!”

“Unless they caught wind of it already,” Rosa grumbled.

But clearly she hadn’t even been aware of what came out of her own mouth because it took both of them approximately ten seconds to realize just what had been said.

And how likely it was.

With a new weight on his shoulders, Marius sank back into his chair with a groan. His first day of being married, and he couldn’t even enjoy it.

[light-yaers]

Sweet Escape: Chapter Seven

Poe Dameron x Reader

Warnings: banterous flirting that may or may not crack your teeth, slight injury, alcohol, and OSCAR FUCKIN ISAAC

A/N: Honestly this is a bit of a filler, but I was having too much fun writing Poe and her's interactions that I simply couldn't stop. I didn't want to have such a large chapter, so I stuck with this little filler just for funzies. They do be getting closer doe....

Find the Masterpost here

Word Count - 2.5k

Chapter Seven: Blush

The first feeling upon gaining consciousness was ouch. Even opening your eyes made your muscles throb. The slow realisation that you were in the base’s med-bay, lying in a bed, came to you in waves. First, you let out an internal groan. Then, you let out an actual groan, as you tried to hoist yourself up to a sitting position.

Your body objected, rushing your limbs with an aching sort of pain that felt like you’d been training for 48 straight hours, but nevertheless you managed to sit up. The bay was quiet and collected, like a library, and only a few beds were actually occupied.

You felt her before you even saw her—Leia strolled round the corner then, eyes fixing upon you instantly. She gave you immediate comfort, despite your internal bruising and the anxiety that had started to bubble within your gut when you thought about what you’d just done.

The cat was out of the hypothetical bag. Your Force abilities weren’t just known now; you’d given the base an entire fucking demonstration. Brilliant.

“That was quite a show,” Leia said as she approached your bedside. You gave her a tired and half-hearted smile. “Thank you,” she added, and the seriousness in her voice was apparent. You nodded at her in response, not yet knowing what you could even say.

There was a silence that radiated from her—an intelligent and knowing quiet that told you all you needed to know; if you hadn’t of done what you did, many would have died. The base would have been all but destroyed.

“Are you okay?” she asked then, trickling her kind words over you softly.

“I feel like I’ve been punched all over my body, repeatedly,” you let out. A small scoff burst from her lips.

“I understand. The Force takes a lot out of you,”

“You could say that again,” you replied, testing out the movement of your arms. You stretched them out slowly, and your elbows clicked noisily. “Is everyone okay?”

“Some are more shaken up than others, but everyone’s just fine. Thanks to you,” Leia said, raising her brows at you in understanding. “Dameron’s waiting outside,” she added, causing you to whip your gaze to her suddenly. You let out a groan in pain as you brought a hand to rest on your stiff neck.

“Dameron?” you winced. Leia only nodded.

“I’ve never seen him be so proactive. He carried you here after you collapsed,”

You looked to your lap, overcome by a feeling half-way between wanting to vomit, and wanting to smile. Sure, you’d just revealed your gift and saved the damn Resistance, but you’d fainted afterwards—embarrassment wasn’t something that you dealt with well, as much as you shouldn’t have cared.

“Great,” you whispered to yourself. Leia let out another comforting chuckle, before placing a reassuring and gentle hand on your shoulder. You looked at her then, not even trying to cover up the absolute fear and anxiety on your face. Leia could feel your Force; she would have known your true feelings even if you had the strength to try and hide it from your expression.

“Shall I tell him to come back later?” she asked, but you were already shaking your head.

“No, no. He can see me,” the confidence in your tone was more prominent than you’d expected it to be, but maybe it was because it was him. It wasn’t Heidi or Lynx, who, as much as you liked them, were still closed books. Poe, though—

You already shared a room. What was one more?

Leia left after giving you a small nod. You took the few seconds it took her to leave the med-bay to mentally prepare yourself. You needed a nap, or ten naps, and you needed to keep it together. You’d never used your Force this way, nor had you been expecting to. The entire situation was a lot to take in.

But everyone was fine. You were fine. And that’s all that mattered.

Poe bound in before you could even slide yourself up the bed to lean against the wall. The first thing you noted about him was his expression; it wasn’t what you’d been expecting. His eyes were wide, his brow dotted with sweat, his shoulders hunched and tense and rigid. Maker forbid, the pilot was scared.

He grabbed a chair on his way over and sat down on it immediately, tucking himself in next to your bed as you fumbled with sitting.

“I’m fine, Dameron,” you said, as an involuntary chuckle escaped your lips.

“You sure?” he questioned, just double-checking. You nodded at him firmly, and then he visibly relaxed. He let out a large sigh of relief, leaning back in his chair and wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket. “Had us worried there,”

“Had you worried,” you replied, shooting him a smile. It felt good.

“Hey, you’re the one that blacked the fuck out,” he let out, and you bit on your tongue as a wave of anxiety rushed through your gut. Dameron’s demeanour changed then, as an understanding settled onto his face. “Why didn’t you tell me you could use the Force?”

You swallowed uncomfortably, knowing that he’d obviously have questions. “Don’t take it personally. I haven’t told anyone before,”

“Why?” he repeated, looking at you with those big pretty boy eyes and delving deep into your damn soul. You didn’t realise just how hard it would be, being put in this position, but it was your own doing. You’d chosen to act.

“It was always easier to keep it a secret, okay? I wasn’t planning to ever use it in front of any of you, but—,” the breath hitched in the back of your throat as the image of the hurtling TIE hit your mind.

“The TIE followed Green-Two through hyperspace. It got hit and entered the atmosphere,” Poe explained. “They didn’t have time to realise what was happening and destroy it from the sky,”

“Yeah,” you replied, feeling overexposed and vulnerable and all of the feelings that you hated.

Your brain pelted thoughts at you then, as you tried to keep it together. It told you that everyone would look at you differently, even though you were all fighting for the same thing. It told you that you’d only become the brunt of another joke, that everything you despised about cadet life like this would be all-encompassing.

It told you that pilots would look at you like you had an unfair advantage; like you didn’t work to become as skilled as you were. It told you that Poe would think the same.

You fiddled with your fingers as Poe’s stare stayed glue to the side of your face. You didn’t want him to see that you were almost trembling, so you sucked it up. You forced yourself to perk up, to put on a blunt face, to ignore how close to screaming you were.

“I understand if you choose to take me off Black squadron,” you said plainly. Poe’s expression changed quicker than you could blink.

“Why the hell would I take you off my squad?” he replied. His squad.

“Unfair advantage and all that shit. Like I cheated or something,” you replied. Poe shifted in his chair and clenched his jaw.

“Did you use the Force on rank day?” he asked plainly. You immediately furrowed your brows at him, slightly angry.

“Fuck no. I don’t use it when piloting. I never usually use it—,”

“Then why the fuck would you take you off my squad, Ten?” he repeated, sterner this time. You let his words sink through your skin as you focused on calming your raging emotions. You were torn between kicking a wall, throwing a chair or crying on the floor like a baby. All three options sounded appealing to you.

“Even if you did use the Force to fly, I wouldn’t change your rank,” he added. “You’re a fucking good pilot. That shit can’t be learned just because you possess the Force. Unfair advantage my ass, Ten,”

The blush crept into your cheeks before you had the chance to look away. Poe’s lips curled into a small smirk—his most punchable expression. You had to speak away the tension before it consumed you.

“Can you go back to teasing me or horrendously hitting on me, now? All this mushy stuff is insufferable. It’s not like I fucking died,” you let out, trying to subvert his gaze away from your blotched cheeks. This was the second time the pilot had made you blush today—you didn’t want it to become a fucking daily occurrence.

You froze when Poe’s fingers reached out and touched your face. Your stare was upon him in an instant, watching the gentle way his eyes looked from cheek to cheek.

“I call you a good pilot once and you start blushing, huh?” he said lowly, sensually.

He was doing it on fucking purpose.

The redness of your face immediately elevated, but you’d grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm within seconds of taking in his words. He yelped in pain as you twisted his arm over the bed, causing him to stand from the chair and lean forward as you jerked him painfully.

That’s when you grabbed him by the collar, pulling his face close to your own and shooting him with a stare that only communicated one thing—death.

“If you want to keep this pretty boy face then I suggest you tread carefully, Dameron,” you said unapologetically, ignoring the pain in your limbs. Poe started to relax more now that your grip wasn’t on his arm. Hell, maybe he fucking enjoyed being threatened this way, because the smirk didn’t wipe off of his face at all.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re hot when you’re angry?” he said it as clear as day with no hesitation.

You dropped him immediately, causing his upper body to whack onto the mattress and spring back into his chair. He fell back into the chair and almost twisted onto the floor, but he regained his balance as chuckles fell from his lips boyishly. “Hey, you asked for this,” he said, raising his arms defensively at the unamused look on your face.

You pinched the bridge of your nose quickly, clamping your eyes shut as the hammering heartbeat beneath your ribs all but consumed you. “You—you—,”

“I really rile you up, don’t I?” Poe cut you off, crossing his arms smugly as you started to calm down slightly. You composed yourself as best as you could, not removing your angry stare from his pretty boy face. He thrived off of this, that much was certain. But it was true—you had just asked for it.

You just hadn’t expected reacting this way when your guards weren’t all the way up. There was something about being here with Poe, alone, after knowing that he’d been the one to place you on this bed himself, that hit you harder than you’d ever fucking admit.

These weeks hadn’t exactly been easy; being in the Resistance was literally the hardest job in the galaxy; but Poe had been a constant that you were only now realising. He was there when you went to bed, he was there when you woke up. His smug face was there whenever the subject of sex arose, or whenever he was ready to push your buttons, but his anger and rage was there whenever someone crossed you, as well.

Maker, it was almost like he cared.

And you weren’t used to that. You weren’t used to that at all.

Apparently, all of your thoughts had just made themselves known through your face, as Poe let out a soft scoff, eating up your expression.

“I’ll take that as a yes. What can I say? There’s no one like me,” he spoke so easily, so happily and upbeat. You could tell he was just trying to tease you more, but he was right.

“There is no one like you,” you repeated his words, jaw clenched. It wasn’t a compliment, and he knew that.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Poe said, waving his hand in the air. He leaned forward then, perking a brow at you questioningly, overly confident to the point that you were almost jealous of how open he was. “Does this mean there’s a tiny, minuscule, microscopic part of you that actually likes me?”

You rolled your eyes immediately, as you began to twist your legs to dangle over the side of the mattress. You placed your feet on the floor gently, applying pressure to them to see if you could stand.

Poe stood quickly, pushing back the chair as he got out of your way. You stood, leaning against the bed for subtle support, but other than the aches and internal bruises in your muscles, you were just fine.

“Don’t hold your breath, Dameron,” you said, as you started to stroll towards the med-bay exit. Dameron was at your side, cautiously staying close while also somehow keeping his distance. He was hyper-vigilant to make sure you weren’t about to fall.

When you both reached the door, Poe gently took hold of your forearm. All prior playfulness was gone from his face. “Thank you, for stopping the TIE. A crash like that... it would have ruined us,” he said sincerely.

“We’re all fighting for the same thing,” you replied. “I’m glad I could be of service,”

He smiled at you genuinely, and you couldn’t stop the warm feeling in your gut from spreading all over your body. As much as he teased and toyed and you had this back and forth; somewhere between hatred and likeness and flirting and fighting; you were both fighting the same war, performing the same jobs, living the same life.

He nodded once, before the two of you made your way down the corridor slowly. He stayed at your pace, not complaining as you got used to your creaky and stiff limbs or winced at the way your body pulsed with every step.

“So, no chance of a beer tonight, then?” he spoke up, perking a brow at you. You perked one back at him as an unexpected smirk curled onto your lips.

“I exposed my Force abilities, moved a crashing TIE with my mind and blacked the fuck out today. I think I’ll take a fucking beer,” you said. Poe chuckled to himself and you couldn’t help it when you joined him.

Slowly, he brought his arm to wrap around your shoulders. He shoved you into his chest playfully, just once, before gently pushing you back and removing his grip from you. “That’s what I wanted to hear,”

You and Dameron headed for the dorm together, shoulders often swiping against each other. Tension still hovered in the air, but it was as if both of you were slowly getting used to it. Maybe that was something that should have been scary to you, but when your Force wrapped itself around Poe when you both entered your dorm, exposing the gentle and fond way he was thinking of you—

All you felt was peace.

@foxilayde @onceuponathreetwoone @ecuadorlady @voidmalfoy @20th-centu-fairy-girl @frickfrackpattywhacktictac @baueoud @300nightmare003 @lilitrth @salome-c @youre-a-wallflower-charlie

I know this chapter is a bit short, but when I tell you big these are coming then please believe me.... get ready. <3

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Group Project.”

Alright everyone, still working on the lecture series, but I also wanted to get some ideas.

What parts of my worldbuilding do you want me to continue with?

What do you want to know more about?”

What story lines do you think I have left unfinished?

And are there any parts of the timeline you want to hear more about? (I was thinking about doing a story on how Adam was even given a ship in the first place) things like that.

I would find your feedback very helpful if you could :) at the very least it will help me get through my writing slump.

Almost six months.

Six months od doctor Krill’s lecture series and they still felt as if they didn’t understand humans anymore than they had when they first started. Despite months and months of research, and papers, none of them had managed to get a grade on an assignment that was higher than a C -- Dr. krill was using what he called the human letter grading system to give them some more experiences that would help them bond with humans, and boy were they bonding with the humans who just couldn’t seem to get it right.

It wasn’t that Dr. krill was an unfair teacher, it was just that most of them always managed to be wrong in some massive and obvious way about humans. For example, when writing a paper about how humans cannot see in the dark and would be likely not to survive on a dark planet, but then potentially forgetting about all the humans who survived being completely blind Everything you could say about humans was generally untrue for another human.

Humans have an extreme sense of survival however they seem prone on tossing  themselves from high places just for the fun of it. 

Humans were both the most survival oriented and the most danger prone species in the entire universe, and that let to some very strange stories that often seemed as if they couldn’t possibly be true, but often turned out to be true anyway.

Either way, the class had been both difficult and exciting, and now they were approaching the end of the semester, and Dr. Krill had promised them something very special to go along with their group project.

They all waited nervously in their predetermined groups watching as Dr. Krill stepped into the room.

He said something to his TA and then turned to his projector to fiddle around for a moment. 

When the lights blinked overhead this time. 

Dr. krill trend to look at the class, “Understanding that we are approaching our last few weeks of class, I have decided to do something a bit special for all of you. To prepare you for the real world of working with humans. I understand that all of you have been working hard despite your abysmal grades, and have decided to do something that human schools do when just such a thing occurs….. Grading on a curve. I certainly didn’t expect any of you to understand humans any better after all of this was over, so this week, I am going to give your real opportunities for some real learning.”

He looked around the room rather smug, “First of all, I want to introduce you to a REAL life earth predator.”

Somehow, in some way, Krill made a sharp whistling noise, and out of the darkness of one of the entrances, their came the soft thudding of footsteps…. Four of them to be precise.

When the furry animal raced into the room the entire class went into a state of panic. Aliens leaped up on their desks and screamed. Vrul inflated and began floating towards the ceiling, all was chaos as the large fuzzy creature raced around the perimeter of the room and then straight towards Dr. krill himself.

More screaming.

“Waffles Sit!” The animal skidded to a stop, and then sat with a soft thump on the floor.

The classroom grew very still as Dr. Krill began to pat the predator’s head.

A pink tongue lolled from it’s mouth past massive white K-9 teeth. Its huge ears swiveled back and forth.

The class slowly began to relax back in their seats as Krill continued to pat the dog, rubbing the fur under its chin so that it raised its head and grumbled deep in it’s throat. Its tail slapped repeatedly against the ground.

“Everyone, I would like to introduce you to one of the staples of a human pack….. A dog.” He continued to pat the animal, as she slid to the ground beside him tail still thumping loudly against the ground, “Waffles was trained by humans for humans, and has the ability to both detect and prevent psychological crisis. As you all know humans are rather prone to mental dysfunction, but this dog is one of the first line defences put in place for a specific human.”

The dog leaned up, and with her long pink tongue, she liked the doctor on the arm.

The class cringed back.

“If you ever want to work with humans, it is likely you will have to work with dogs as well. Any dog that is going to be aboard a human ship will have been vetted for work with other alien races. They will be friendly, and they will calm. Waffles has been around humans her entire life, and around aliens for over two years which is a little less than half of her life.”

He turned to look at the room, “I will give a hundred points of Extra credit to anyone who is brave enough to come down here and pet her.”

There was silence in the room.

No one moved an inch.

Off in the corner a Tesraki shifted nervously in his seat.

He had the lowest grade in the class and he knew it, but a hundred point os extra credit would bring him solidly up a letter grade or two…. but …. It’s teeth were so big, and it probably weighed as much as he did.

It was the look that Dr. Krill gave him that finally urged him onward. Dr. Krill knew, and was, surprisingly, trying to help him.

Knees shaking and hands about to tremble off the end of his wrists, the Tesraki stood, and made his slow way across the room. His ears were plastered flat against his head and his hands only shook worse. The dog grew larger and larger in his vision until she was sitting right before him. Even sitting down she was only a foot and a half shorter than he was, and the panic he was feeling was unbelievable.

He looked into her eyes, and she shifted forward on her paws, snout pushing towards him. He backed away and the entire class gasped. She rocked back on her feet and gently lowered herself to the ground, looking up at him with wide brown eyes.

When he didn’t move she slowly rolled until she had flipped over on her back, looking up at him with her head tilted

A tooth poked out from under her lip, and her tail beat against the ground.

“Look at that!” krill exclaimed, “That’s a submissive pose she would use on a human, she wants you to rub her chest and belly, go on, she’s giving your permission.”

Heart hammering in his ears, he leaned down, and with trembling fingers patted the coarse fur on her belly. She made a grumbling noise and he leaped back, but Dr. Krill encouraged him on saying that it was a good thing, and so he continued. The animal kicked her leg a couple of times and the Tesraki felt his entire body tingle with exhilaration.

He was…. He was petting a dangerous earth animal, just like the humans would!

Eventually he was dismissed back to his seat, and the dog rolled over onto her stomach, resting her head on her paws, which she began to lick absently, large ears still perked.

Dr Krill turned to look at them, “But of course this class it primarily about humans, is it not, and I strongly believe that there is really only one way to teach someone how to interact with humans properly….” he looked around at all of them, “And that, is by experience.”

The class shifted in their seats with exclamations of surprise, and from down one of the hallways they heard a sharp repeated thudding. The beat was so regular and rhythmic it managed to make many of the Vrul students dizzy and confused, nearly lolling out of their seats.

Dr Krill stood firm two hands on hips, two hands crossed over his chest.

And that is when the column of humans marched into the room in perfect time with each other, their botos hitting the floor such that the seats about them seemed to rattle. The vrul could barely keep in their seats and the other students leaned forward in awe.

Most of the humans wore strange clothing in a black and greyblue pattern all over their bodies, while the human at the front wore light grey and a strange adornment atop his head. The front of his chest glittered with small colorful ribbons and little glittering symbols though no one could have been sure what they meant.

The line of humans drew to the front of the room and then stopped.

“LEFT FACE!”

The group turned in unison with the sharp rattling of boots on the floor.”

“ATTENTION!” Their bodies snapped into position, hands raised to their temples as they looked forward perfectly still.” “AT EASE.”

The group of humans, together, fell back into a posture of relative relaxation. Feet spread, hands clasped gently behind their backs, and there they stood as Doctor Krill moved to stand next to them, “Well class, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the Omen’s Alpha team. These marines have trained for years in ground combat for most of their careers. IF there is ever a problem on your planet, this is likely who the humans will send as reinforcements.”

He turned to the last human, the one with the shiny uniform, “And it is my pleasure to introduce our ship’s admiral, who graciously agreed to come and bring his men today. I think you will recognize him from your textbooks.”

When the human removed his hat and turned to face them, there was a shocked muttering. They knew him from their textbooks, as HE was the very template for the classic anatomical diagram that adorned many of the pages in their textbooks.

It was essentially his system that they were examining whenever they discussed the systems of the human body.

“A couple of things I would like you all to note here, and those are the highly social structure in which humans operate. This structure includes a strict hierarchy that humans take pains to make known. The Single Star on the Admiral’s shoulder marks him as the highest ranking human in this room. He outranks me, these other humans and all of you as civilians. In the human world, he is to be listened to, and his orders to be obeyed. In certain cases humans will overlook the intelligence of what someone is saying, if they are of a higher rank in worry of social repercussion.”

He turned to walk towards the marines still standing in their straight line, “They rank in order from this symbol down to this symbol and each of them has an important task to preform. In the early days of our meeting humans, this strict social hierarchy was enough to make some assume that humans were in possession of some sort of hive mind. However, this is clearly not the case. Humans do not have a hive mind, but they do possess a social structure so rigid in some cases that it may seem like it. I would also like to note the diversity in human appearance. The only other species that we have seen with even remotely comparable diversity in facial, tonal, and physical structure are either the Drev, or the Tesraki.”

He turned to look at the groups and his antenna buzzed with amusement, “Now, in your groups, I want you all to pick one of the marines to come join you, and then for the rest of the class, I would like you to come up with a principal about humans to demonstrate at the end of the lecture.” he pointed to one of the first groups, “pick a human.”

There was some slight shuffling and discussion as they tried to determine which human would be best. In the end they went for the smallest human hoping beyond hope that they would be the least aggressive.

It was a real pity that they didn’t understand the rule about short humans, and maverick, in an attempt to get to her group, ignored all the rules of decorum and simply stepped up onto the desks clambering over with great dexterity until she plopped herself down in a seat in the middle of the group turning to look at them, “Yo.” She said, rather un ironically as they stared at each other in shock.

The other humans were quickly divided out and went to sit with their groups mostly enjoying being the center of attention.

There was one less marine than they needed, so the highest ranking human handed his hat to the dog sitting on the floor and walked over to slide into a seat with them, showing his teeth in a gesture that was supposed to be friendly.

All around the room chattering steadily grew as the aliens began asking the humans quick fire questions which some of the marines found hard to keep up with.

When asked a question Ramirez simply shook his head, “You know what you guys probably know way more about humans that me. I’m not a doctor, or anything else. I am a marine, I know how to do like four things effectively, I call them the four Fs, Fight, Fun, Food, and er well you get the picture.”

Maverick was having a very amusing time explaining teeth to the aliens, albeit rather inaccurately considering that teeth weren’t actually bone but a mixture of enamel covered dentine, but Krill let it go on for the factor of amusement.”

The nervous members of the admiral’s group had already been lulled into a sense of ease at the man’s friendly and relaxing demeanor, and he was attempting to do his best at explaining a question given to him by one of the aliens, and was doing a better job than the marines at taking their questions seriously.

“Well you see, when it comes to humans you are always going to be relatively safe. Over the past thousands of years, access to soft cooked foods have caused our jaws to grow relatively small and weak leaving little room for our teeth. So most humans don’t like food that is difficult to eat. We aren’t impressive enough predators that we can just strip flesh from bone. Plus thats a great way to catch diseases, furthermore, our diets and the way we eat really had to change as our vocal cords moved further up in our throats. Sure this gave us the ability to speak and mimic almost any alien language known, but it also made us very prone to choking on our own food.”

He sighed, “I remember this one time when I was five and I choked on a hard candy, scariest moment of my life probably, or at least in the top ten. If you don’t know what choking is, its when something gets stuck in your airway blocking your ability to breath and you die from oxygen loss, I know a horrible way to die.”

The conversations continued all around the room until there was only twenty minutes left in class, and he called a stop so that the groups could demonstrate a human principle that they had learned.

The first group brought Maverick up and one of the other students presented her with a rock No one was really sure why he had the rock, but the fact that it had big eyeballs drawn on it was enough for her to happily accept the gift and declare its name to be “The Boulder.” The class was surprised to find that it took such little effort for a human to pack bond with something, but the fact that she held the rock in two hands and occasionally stroked a finger down it was clear enough evidence that it was true.

The other students demonstrated a human’s depth perception by throwing an object and watching as Ramirez leaped out over the desks, hands stretched out to catch the object mid fly before landing back on the ground. The precision that it required to do that left the class very very impressed.

Someone else had a human try to identify what something was based on it’s smell, and he accurately guessed the difference between Vrull Texraki and Runid just based on their smell. They even brought in one of the other humans to which the test subject exclaimed,  “Don’t tell me it’s Ramirez and his bitch ass. I would know those fumes anywhere.”

One of the humans managed to demonstrate a very impressive climbing ability, and another one of the marines was pleased to demonstrate a human’s advanced vestibular sense by doing a backflip off of one of the desks. He tried to do it twice, but tripped upon anding and ended up on his back much to the amusement of the other humans.

That was also a good demonstration of the human’s empathy reflex as the humans winced and were silent for a moment before they began their ridicule.

If they remembered correctly, humans used teasing and humor as social bonding. They would never have made fun of their friend if he had actually been hurt, but the fact that he wasn’t made it clearly acceptable to joke as it let the other humans know that everything was ok.

The last group caught the admiral off guard by saying the word yawn and causing a chain reaction that made its way all around the room until it terminated with the dog, who also yawned, much to the surprise of the students.

Krill watched all of this with interest, keeping an eye on his more motivated students, and the ones who got along best with the humans. He was still trying to get permission from his superiors, but taking a few house students with them on the omen and back to earth would be a great PR move and also a good way to get some of his more invested students an experience that they could really take with them into their careers.

If one thing WAS  clear by the end of the lecture.

It was that Maverick was not going to give up her pet rock any time soon. 

[yellowocaballero]

The newest chapter of good luck Jake makes me feel like I've chewed stained glass, it's so pretty but I am bleeding. Honestly Jake's whole arc this fic reminds of that quote that's like: there's a period when you've gone wrong but continue. sometimes theres a luxurious amount of time before anything bad happens. Honestly that's the vibe for the whole system and I am so deeply excited and dreading watching that moment arrive because it is looming the goddamn horizon. ＞︿＜ 💜💜💜

Yes hello getting back to your comment has been on the to-do list jkalsdfj. I think I got halfway through and then got lost in my thoughts and then decided to save all of us the horror of another essay in the comment section.

But thank you for the insanely lovely comments & for the ask! Looking back at my Tumblr promos for my fic I noticed that my favorite chapter is usually the second-to-last chapter, since that's where shit normally hits the fan emotionally. The last chapter is where shit tends to hit the fan plot-wise. The last chapter actually does a shitton of wrap-up character work, because I realized that I had to wrap up emotional arcs from two stories/120k words, but it's all pretty positive stuff. Jake's had His Big Realization, and we just have to see what he does with it. It's a happy ending this time! I think it's probably a sign of how weird this story was that the central relationship of the story and the relationship that has to be 'solved' and put to rest at the end is a one where the both parties do not exchange a single word the ENTIRE story. I think I pulled it off though. Maybe.

I think there are certain kinds of people who continuously and persistently create their own problems. Marc is one of those people, except he also has other magical problems. People who have extremely maladaptive coping mechanisms for life struggles will continue to wreck things until they hammer out those shitty behaviors. And the fictional satisfaction about this, I think, is that irl these shitty behaviors can be so constant and low level that they can just go unchecked for years, and they persist for an insanely long time. In fiction I can do things like "force a confrontation" and "have a guy's friends walk in on him murdering someone" and "have the Avengers hold an intervention" that bring these behaviors to the crisis point and force the main character into a catalyst moment where they have to make a life-changing choice. In fiction this causes an upswing where they get better, in life you just kinda tend to struggle along.

That's part of why the premise of the first fic was Marc having a relapse. It happens. I guess you really have to thank Jake - if it wasn't for his extremely loud and attention seeking behavior, then Good Luck, Jake! would have been nothing more than Marc's very bad depressive episode just struggling along. Maybe the other joy of fiction is that in real life life just always goes on and things go back to normal no matter how wrecked up you are inside. In fiction your bad thing is exemplified through a cabbie that repeatedly murders people until somebody gives you emotional attention. Thanks for the comments & the ask & tolerating the off-topic answer!

[gaysimpsstuff]

Flightless Birds Chapter Three; Where Birds Belong

Chapter One Here

Chapter Two Here

Chapter Four Here

Chapter Five Here

Summary: After visiting Kouten in the hospital, Y/n gets more and more ‘gifts’ from their stalker. But what are they supposed to do when it gets to be too much? Make a huge mistake, that’s what.

Word Count: 2.4K Words

Warnings: cursing, intrusive thoughts, mentions of masturbation, unwanted sexual letters, threats, police officers, implied drugging

Other: the first half of this chapter was meant to be in the previous chapter, but since Tumblr is a bitch I couldn’t do that and it was pushed here. 

Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @cathy8taffy @1small-frogs @catcherisvibin @waffleareniceandfluffy @mandalorian-baby-bird @theblueslytherin @hawksadmirer @assassinslittlesister @deepcollectorphantom (lemme know if you wanna be added to or removed from the taglist)

Numb. 

Was that the right word to describe how you were feeling?

Your heart was hammering away in your chest, and your whole body felt light as a feather.

Your head was foggy, and you felt like the world beneath you was shifting, tumbling around like the tectonic plates of your life were slamming and crashing into each other.

When you arrived at home, there was another ‘gift’ waiting for you. You picked it up and brought it inside. You knew you should probably just ignore all the packages and throw them away, but you just couldn’t.

Why? Why must your curiosity be satiated like this?

Today, it was a teddy bear. A red string was wrapped around its neck. You sighed, setting it on the nightstand with the other ‘gifts.’ 

More and more gifts started to arrive over the next week and a half. Clothes you’d expressed interest in, small shiny things, key-chains, and a couple more dead animals. You were sick and tired of it, and you were stressed out of your mind.

You hadn’t slept in days, you were hardly eating, your weird stalker had started leaving notes talking about you. They knew things about you that they shouldn’t know, it was getting to be too much. You felt heavy and cotton-headed. 

Calls from unknown numbers appeared every day now, and most of them included you just saying ‘hello?’ Into the phone until the caller hung up.

You were so tired, and so freaked out. 

Paranoia flooded your mind about your stalker breaking into your house and hurting you. 

But you felt so selfish. All your stalker was doing was creeping you out. You hadn’t actually been hurt yet, however Kouten was in the fucking hospital! He had almost been killed and you were worried about a few creepy notes.

How much of a horrible person were you?

You had one comfort; him. 

Izanagi.

You’d been spending less and less time at your flat, and more time with Izanagi. You spent every other night at his house, and you’d gotten so used to sleeping in the same bed as him that you felt you couldn’t sleep without his gentle touches and soft breaths.

Everything about him calmed you, his gentle green eyes, the constellation of freckles on his cheeks, that one tooth in his mouth that was twisted to the left, the days when he forgot to do laundry and you had to fold his clothes, you loved it all.

Your feet hit the pavement too hard as you approached your home. The stray tabby cat of your neighborhood dashing away from your front door as you approached.

You looked down, exhausted.

There was a rectangle of white on your welcome mat, your name printed in the fancy kanji of your stalker’s handwriting.

You slowly lifted it off of the ground, entering your home. Everything was quiet…

Too quiet.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, flinching at the sound of the mattress creaking under your weight. Slowly, you peeled open the envelope, unfolding the letter. Your eyes scanned down the words, nervous.

Dear Y/n.

You’ve been getting all my presents, right? Gosh I do hope you enjoy them. I can’t believe I’m finally writing you a letter! It’s so exhilarating, you know? 

I’ve never felt like this before, ever. Nothing even came close. God Y/n, I’m so in love with you! Do you know? I’ve been courting you this whole time! We’re birds of a feather, both lazy as fuck but so vulnerable.

I wish I didn’t have to hurt Yuu like I did, but that little bitch had to die. Unfortunately he survived, how tragic.

You stopped reading looking up for a moment. You were right! Your stalker had been connected to Kouten’s attack! That… didn’t feel very nice. You thought you’d feel better about it, but now you just felt sick.

It was your fault Kouten was hurt.

I could understand he was close to you, I hated that. I would have gone for Fujikawa, but he’s surprisingly cautious. You’d think he’d be more reckless, being as fucking stupid as he is, but nooo. 

I’ll have mercy on him, I’m sure it’d just make you upset to see him dead anyways. But I swear, go near him again and I’ll kill him. 

I don’t wanna talk about that in my first real letter with you, so instead I’ll just talk about you.

How breathtaking you are.

How fucking gorgeous you are.

Y’know, you really are fucking amazing, you think I didn’t see? You really took the time to appreciate yourself yesterday, I think that was your way of saying you loved me back! Touching yourself… oh fuck you looked so hot.  Think I didn’t hear? I really wish I was there, fucking you the way you need. I’d give you everything you’ll ever need. You won’t need anything but me. 

Baby you’ve just given me my next month’s worth of masturbation material.

Remember, I love you!

    -Your future husband

No. Fuck fuck no. Gross get out drop it throw up rip it to shreds hurt smash something scream no no no no no get out get it out get it out find him report him police heroes what the fuck Izanagi-

Izanagi.

Izanagi.

Hey siri, call Izanagi.

“Yo, Y/n! What’s up? Miss me already~” Izanagi. His voice relaxed you and you found your brain forming coherent thoughts again. You opened your mouth to confess what was happening, but nothing came out. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

Then you cried. 

It felt so good to finally cry, you hadn’t cried in what felt like years, sobbing and looping his name, your only comfort in this chaos.

“Woah, woah, hey what’s going on? Hang on I’m coming over, don’t you fucking dare hang up!”

You sniffed, nodding, continuing to just mutter his name. In Just under five minutes, he was letting himself in with the spare key. You felt the bed shift, and you felt his warmth next to you. You fell against his side, crying harder. He held onto you, rubbing at your sides.

“Hey, hey. Come on, what happened? Tell me!” you could hear the fear in his voice. You still didn’t feel like you could speak so you just shakily handed him the letter you received, hoping he’d understand your reaction once he saw what you’d gotten.

His eyes scanned the paper before widening, and he covered his mouth with his hand. He dropped the paper, standing up and grabbing a suitcase from your closet and starting to fill it with clothes. He moved with haste, and you noticed he was grabbing your favorite clothes.

The sweatshirt he’d gifted you for Valentine’s Day, the Edgeshot t-shirt you wore every other day, the sweatpants you always slept in, 

“W-what are you doing?” you whimpered.

“You really think I’d let you stay here when some fucker obviously is watching you? I’m gonna report this to the police. No one is going to hurt you, okay? No one hurts my friends!” he turned back to you, a hard look in his eyes. You had a feeling that if he ever ran into your stalker, it would take multiple top heroes to hold him back from killing the guy.

You were grateful.

Izanagi helped you pack, and you told him all the other details. How it started with the Hawks beanie, how you’d gotten bottle caps and sweatshirts, and even dead animals. How you felt too scared to tell anyone, afraid of getting blown off.

He comforted you, he promised you he’d protect you. You felt safe with him. He would protect you. You thanked him religiously as he helped you bring your things over to his place. He kept telling you that of course he’d be doing this, it was the right thing to do.

This man… this man was your rock. He was your everything. You knew there’d be no way to fully repay him for his kindness towards you, but you promised yourself you’d try. 

You sat on his bed again, realizing that for the time being, this was your bed too. He was beside you, holding you tight and comforting you. You relaxed into his touch, before a realization struck you.

“Izanagi- he threatened to kill you. He hurt Kouten too, he- he can probably kill you if he really wants to.” Izanagi shook his head, pressing a finger to your lips.

“Nothing, I swear nothing is going to happen to me. Okay? Now, we’re going to the police station. You will not leave my sight, you will not let go of my hand. You’re not gonna wander off without telling me, etc etc. Clear?”

“Crystal.” you smiled softly, nodding. “Thank you so much Iza.”

“Like I said, of fucking course I’d do this. Come on, let’s get in the car.” he took your hand, putting your stalker’s letter in his pocket and taking you with him back out to his car. You got in the back, and he drove quickly. He glanced back at you repeatedly, double and triple-checking you were there and safe. 

  Finally, he pulled up at the police station and got out, quickly running around to the back doors as you got out. His hand was instantly on yours, pulling your body close against his and walking in the station with you. He briskly walked up to the police lady behind the counter.

“Oh, hello! Is there something I can do for the two of you?” she asked, it was so sweet and cheerful, so vastly different from the emotions swirling around in your mind.

“Yes, here.” Izanagi pulled the letter from his pocket and handed it to the lady. “My friend has a stalker, and he’s attacked another one of our friends.” the woman looked over the letter, nodding.

“Alright, I’m going to have some officers talk to your friend in private and-”

“Not happening.” Izanagi growled. “I get it, but I’m not leaving my friend.”

“I- I want him in the room.” you added. “Please.” the woman sighed, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, but unless you are a minor, I can’t have anyone else in the room with you. Even then it would be limited to certain people. It’s a safety precaution.”

“Fuck!” You grabbed Izanagi’s arm, rubbing his bicep to calm him down. He turned to you, offering you a strained smile. “You’ll be okay, right?” he asked, worried. You nodded, a feeble attempt to comfort him.

He gave the officers that came in a hard look, like he expected them to hurt you. You broke away from Izanagi’s comfort and followed them into a questioning room.

There were so many questions.

Every little detail about your life, even things that didn’t seem all that important. You told them everything you told Izanagi, plus a little more. They weren’t very comforting, and when you got scared, they got angry. It wasn’t at all like Izanagi, who softened when you were upset. Any detail that you didn’t have, they seemed to be upset with you about it. As if you were supposed to do your own little investigation illegally. It was… very annoying.

“Alright, we’re going to call a hero in here.” one of the officers told you. “Hawks has been doing a lot more patrols in your area than usual, he might have already seen your stalker and can probably take care of it for you. Is that okay?”

Hawks. You’d just met him one. He was a hero. He was trusted, beloved even. 

Call him in. He’s Hawks. He’s the number two. He wasn’t creepy, just do it!

“That’s fine, I’ll talk to Hawks.”

Maybe you should have thought about it more.

Maybe you should have trusted that feeling in your gut telling you ‘no.’

Maybe you shouldn’t have told Izanagi. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have involved the police.

Maybe you shouldn’t have spoken with Hawks so casually when you met him.

Maybe you shouldn’t have been a bird.

Maybe then.

You’d be free as you once were.

It took five minutes. Then the door swung open and he walked in. It had been a week or so since you saw him, but when he layed his golden eyes on you, you got the feeling that you’d seen him only yesterday, in a flash of red in the dead of night.

“Hello, Y/n L/n.” He spoke calmly, but you noticed a slight tremor of excitement. Why was he so happy to see you? 

You felt chills run down your spine at the way he sat next to you, taking your hand and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. His whole body seemed to vibrate in happiness, his wings fluttering as he locked eyes with you.

You shyed away from him, desperately trying to take your hands back, but his grip was firm. There was no escape.

“I-I changed my mind, officer!” You turned to the policeman, who was just leaving the room, leaving you with him. “I don’t want to talk to a hero, I’m sorry!”

The man turned back to you, a lazy, amused, smirk on his face. 

“Don’t worry, he’s a pro. You’ll be fine.” The man waved you off, shutting the door behind him. You felt like screaming, or throwing up, or both.

Something about Hawks seemed off. The way he looked at you, touched you, grinned so wildly at you, he didn’t look like a hero.

He looked like a crazed lunatic.

Click

The officer had locked the door.

“U-um, hi, Hawks.” you whispered, voice quiet. Fuck you wished Izanagi was here to comfort you. Hawks’ gloves were cold, the beaten leather rough against your hands, they were nothing like the gentle warmth that Izanagi’s soft skin emitted. 

His grin only grew, and he pulled you close to him, arms reaching around under your wings to grip your back. You squeaked, instinctively grabbing onto his biceps. His body was pressed against yours, and his breathing quickened, his face buried into your shoulder. You could feel him inhaling your scent.

“Fuck.” he growled, and you could feel his talons digging into your skin through his gloves and your shirt. “You have no idea how happy I am to finally see you again.” his voice wavered, and you could practically feel his excitement.

“S-sir, please let me go-” you whimpered. “I’m here to report a crime, not as a fan trying to meet you.” the hero cooed, only holding you tighter. 

“I know why you’re here, dear Y/n~” his breath tickled your ear, and you felt tears brimming in your eyes. “And I know who’s been following you. So nice of him to send you all those gifts, right~?” 

No

“So cruel of you to act like he’s a criminal.”

Not like this 

“He’s going to take good care of you~” 

Not right now 

“I love you so much”

Ow.

You felt... foggy.

And warm, really warm.

Tired…

So… tired…

Darkness.

[personasintro]

games n' sex | ksj drabble

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀; game date sounds perfect, until it slowly turns into something more and you and your boyfriend are ready to take another step in your relationship

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: fluff, smut

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: strong language, protected sex, virgin!jin, virgin!reader, nerd!jin, they're both kinda nerds, fingering, first time sex, jin has a huge dick (can't believe I just wrote that) 

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.6k

a/n: commissioned by the amazing @hyacinthgrrls​! this was supposed to be 3k but it ended up being longer😳 thank you for your patience!!

𝗺.𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | ☕️

“So, tell me again, why are you wearing those glasses?”

Your boyfriend asks without even looking at you, eyes too focused on the screen that’s in front of him as he clicks the computer mouse repeatedly.

“I look like a nerd with them,” you answer, snorting when you see him from the corner of your eyes giving you a side glance. “And I look smart in them.” you add to clarify, glancing back at the screen of your own laptop.

You’ve been dating together for six months, but doing nothing and playing games is still one of the best dates. You’re able to enjoy yourselves, get frustrated together and then laugh it off. Someone would call the two of you nerds, which you probably are, but not that you or Seokjin care.

“You’re a nerd,” he points out, screaming out of pain when you repeatedly smack his arm. “No, no, no! I lost! Why would you hit me?” he whines frustredly, a satisfied smirk appearing on your lips as you see a big ‘game over’ on his screen.

“You called me nerd.” you tell him, raising a brow as he innocently shrugs his broad shoulders.

“You could’ve just wait until the round is over.” he mumbles, causing you to glare at him but even if he noticed it, he ignores you and starts another round.

That little shit. He’s teasing you, he knows how much it annoys you when he ignores you. The little twitch of his mouth says it all and you groan, clicking your mouse furiously.

“This is such a bullshit, I don’t know how to play this. We should’ve played The Sims or GTA, not whatever this is called.” you roll your eyes when white big letters ‘game over’ appears on your screen as well.

“First of all, The Sims and GTA are lame. And Fortnite isn’t lame, it’s one of the best games on the market right now. How can you be so disrespectful?” he scolds you, causing you to sigh in annoyance.

“You didn’t think of The Sims as lame when you were literally competing with me who will build a better house. It seemed like you enjoyed it more than I did.” you point out, remembering when you were playing the mentioned game just a few weeks ago.

“I wasn’t competing!” he exclaims, his neck getting red which causes you to raise your brow in obvious disbelief.

There are three reasons when his neck gets red. When he’s got too much attention, gets frustrated or when he’s lying. It’s obviously the third option and it’s quite amusing to see he’s still trying to stand up for himself, when the two of you know you’re right. It’s always funny whenever he gets worked up over something so silly.

“You even danced when you claimed that your house looks better!” you exclaim, laughing when he stutters over his words but doesn’t have anything to say back, so he shakes like a scared dog before he lets out a sigh of defeat. “See, I was right.” you still mutter, ignoring the glare he gives you this time.

He turns back, his attention focus on another round which makes you whine and shut your laptop. “This game is no fun.”

“You’re saying that because you don’t know how to play it,” he points out, making your eyes roll even though you know he’s right. “Come here, I’ll show you.” he says, patting his lap as he slowly pulls away with a desk chair to give you a better space.

“Fine, but if I’m not good at it we’re gonna play something else.” you grumble, standing up to sit down onto his lap which is surprisingly even more comfortable than the desk chair you’ve been sitting on for forty minutes.

Of course, it is more comfortable. This is your extremely handsome boyfriend we’re talking about, every chance you get to be closer to him is exciting. Even if it’s him showing you how to play one of his favorite games.

When you finally find the right position on his lap, Jin pulls the chair closer to his desk so the two of you can see the screen clearer. Jin sets a new game, a set of characters filling up the screen as he clicks on a random character.

“Why would you choose her? I want Thor.” you point towards the character that symbolizes one of the Avengers.

“Why him?” he asks, tone laced with curiosity as he clicks on him and chooses him for the game instead.

“He’s hot.” you shrug, causing your boyfriend to snort at your honesty and answer.

“Because he’s hot? You know he’s just a character, right?” he snickers, straightening himself as if he’s the one playing this round.

You know he’ll enjoy giving you tips and explaining this game to you. He loves to do that even when you can play a certain game just fine, without his constant tips and advices.

“I didn’t mean him as a character in this game. I meant Chris Hemsworth, obviously.” you roll your eyes, causing him to snort.

“Since when do you like Chris Hemsworth?” You can’t see him, with you being turned with your back to him, but you can hear the frown on his lips clearly.

“I don’t,” you shrug, “I just love him as Thor. Have you seen him with his hammer showing off those strong arms and when he creates storm with all the lights—“

“Okay, okay. I really don’t wanna hear my girlfriend gushing over some guy who plays a fictional character,” he mutters behind you.

You giggle, ready to tease him about him being jealous and it’s absurd how this topic got into your conversation in the first place, but just as you’re opening your mouth your boyfriend shushes you.

“Now pay attention, the game is starting.” he says, eyes already swallowing the whole screen as he starts giving you instructions.

Ten minutes later of Jin's constant talking, mixed with whining and yelling whenever you lose, you’re the one who whines. You were just getting a hang of it and then your character got killed, and you don’t even know how that happened. Jin’s frustration is the only thing that keeps you entertained, you just love how worked up he gets over a game. After another ten minutes, you’re finally able to play the game without any kills of your character but even then, Jin doesn’t remit himself from his sudden orders and exclamation. When you finally kill a fair amount of enemies, you jump in delight and excitement completely oblivious to Jin’s grunt and hands on your hips.

“Princess, calm down.” he mutters behind you, only causing you to turn around and shift in his lap. Again, he glares at you looking through his thick eyelashes.

“What’s the matter? Did you see that? I’m practically a pro at this game!” you exclaim in excitement, doing a funny dance which causes him to curse underneath his breath.

“Jesus fuck, stop moving.” he pleads, causing you to stop as you frown.

Confusion laces your make-up free features, before you finally feel it. His covered bulge that’s hardening, poking you in the ass. When realization hits your face, you gasp loudly as you stare at your boyfriend with open mouth. He blushes, avoiding your gaze as he tries to play it off with a cough but that only makes you grin at him. You barely get to see him so shy and embarrassed, although there’s nothing embarrassing about this.

“Are you getting hard?” You don’t mean to tease him, not wanting him to feel embarrassed, but you can’t help it but to feel a sudden rush of excitement rushing through you. A different kind of excitement than you winning a round.

“Can we just ignore this happened? I’m freaking embarrassed.” he murmurs, leaning his forehead against your back so he hides his flushed face from you.

“Why? You don’t have to be embarrassed, Jinnie.” you tell him, hand reaching behind to stroke his thick black hair.

“I just got hard over you squirming in my lap, I think that’s a valid reason to be embarrassed.” he says, voice muffled by your back as you giggle.

“Why? I find it hot.” you shrug, causing him to snort in disbelief. He doesn’t believe you, you’re just trying to make this better and not to embarrass him.

And to prove your point, you squirm yourself again this time intentionally, making sure you aim at his hardening length that makes him wrap his arms around you.

“Y/N,” he warns you, trying to stop you but you only press even more making him gasp.

Even you can feel yourself getting aroused from the lack of friction, but just the thought and the littlest feeling of his dick rubbing against you drives you crazy.

“Don’t start something we won’t finish.” he tells you, groaning when you roll your hips against him.

Even the music from the game is completely ignored by the both of you. Thank god, you’re not calling and playing with Jungkook or Yoongi. If they heard the two of you, they wouldn’t let you live. They often tease you about your sex life, just because they’re two dorks who likes to embarrass you and Jin. And you’re usually the one who seems to be confident, opening your mouth to tell them something and turn the topic around, so they’re the ones who are left embarrassed. The truth is, you and Jin haven’t had sex yet. There’s no particular reason behind that, you just never talked about it openly and you thought he doesn’t want to have sex yet. You want it to happen naturally, you don’t need roses and everything planned like in those teen snappy movies. Your desires are often taken care of as Jin pleasing you with his mouth or fingers or you giving him a handjob or a blowjob. As much as Yoongi and Jungkook think the two of you probably play games rather than have sex, that’s not completely true. Yes, you do play games. A lot. But that doesn’t mean you and your body isn’t screaming for Jin. You’re patient and there was never a reason to bring that specific topic, not when you satisfied yourselves just fine without him actually sticking his dick into you. Maybe it’s taking longer because you’re both virgins. Even you giving him a handjob and blowjob used completely new to you. Just like him using his mouth and fingers. It took some time to learn each other’s bodies but you love how natural it all felt. Still does.

“We always finish,” you remark, “I want you.”

“Fuck,” he gasps, and you swear you feel his dick twitching inside his sweatpants. “You want my mouth or fingers?” he asks, letting you rub yourself against his lap as he latches his mouth onto the crook of your neck.

“You,” you gasp, throwing your head back at the feeling of his mouth and dick. “I want all of you.”

You realize what you’ve just said. Your juices already stain your underwear and just the thought of his dick inside you makes you squirm with much more neediness. You don’t even know where is this coming from. You were always okay just with him using his fingers or mouth, or both.

But it seems like you’re the only one who realizes your words.

“You’ve me, princess. You’ve got all of me.” he says against your skin, leaving sloppy kisses down your neck as you circle your hips.

“No, Jin. I wanna have sex with you. Now, like right now.” you tell him, his mouth stopping as he freezes underneath you.

You almost fear you crossed a line or something, and you even stop your movements as you just quickly sit down onto his lap while biting your lower lip.

He shakes out of his shock and shoots a set of questions at you.

“What? All of a sudden? Are you sure?”

Giggling, you take his hands into yours as you play with them. All while still turned with your back to him. “Yes, I don’t wanna wait any longer. If that’s okay with you, of course. I love you, and I know you’re the one for me.”

“If I’m okay with it? Princess, you’ll be the one who gets to be stuffed with a dick. Not me.” he says, causing you to snort.

“Jeez, thanks. You made this better.” you tell him ironically, causing him to sigh as he lifts up your hips and turns you to the side, so he can see at least side of your face.

“No, what I mean is... that this is something you’ve to think about. You’ve to be sure because once it happens, once I’ll take it, there’s no going back.” he tells you, gently tucking his fingers under your chin before he turns your head to face him.

His eyes sparkle with generosity and love, just affirming you that he really is the one.

“You’re acting like you’ve had sex before. You’re a virgin too.” you snicker, pointing out quite obvious fact only two of you know.

“Yeah, well, guys don’t care about their virginity that much. It’s not as important to them like to some girls.” he shrugs, explaining himself.

“Them? Are you saying that it’s important to you?” you question him, seeing him giving you a slight smile.

“It’s important to me that it’s with someone I love. That’s why I waited so long and haven’t sticked my dick to the first girl who offered.” he tells you.

“Can you not like, talk about other girls and how much of them wanted you?” you snort, seeing him giving you a cocky smirk.

Having a handsome boyfriend is a crazy ride. Plus, if that boyfriend is prettier than you. For fucks sake, even men in the shopping center are checking him out.

“It’s not my fault I’m so desired,” he jokes, but stops when he sees you glaring at him. “No, but really. It’s not as important to me as it might be to you, but like I said, I want to have sex with someone I love. And you’re that one for me, I’ve known a long time ago that I wanna lost it with you. I just wanna make sure you really want this.”

“Of course, I want this,” you cup his face into your small hands and caress his cheeks with your thumbs. “I don’t need this to be romantic and all that shit. All I want is you and I feel like right now is the right time.”

“Aren’t you saying that just because you’re wet?”

“Oh my god, Seokjin. No, I’m not.” you roll your eyes, voice raising to prove your point.

“You’re not what exactly? Wet or saying this because you’re wet?” he asks, pointing with his fingers to mimic the two different things.

Letting out a loud whine, you hear him laugh as his whole body shakes. “I’m not saying this because I’m wet. Plus, I think I’m no longer wet after this conversation.” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest as you look away from your boyfriend who seems to have that one specific shit eating grin.

“Oh, come on. Don’t get mad at me now,” he fakes a pout, nudging your shoulder with his forehead before he gives it a soft peck. “I just really want to know if you’re hundred percent sure. That’s all that matters to me.”

Looking at him, you’re met with the same soft and loving eyes you fell in love with, and you can’t help but kiss him. He’s surprised by your sudden reaction, but grabs your face for a better angle as he starts moving his lips. Your tongues dance together, feeling one another before he gently bites onto your lip although, he does it too harshly and you gasp.

“Ow, fuck, Jin!” you scold him, holding your lip as you feel a metal flavor in your mouth. “Why would you do that?” you exclaim, looking at your wide-eyed boyfriend.

“I’m sorry!” he apologizes quickly, “I was trying to do that thing they do in a movies, I didn’t think I’d bite that hard.” he reasons, softly tugging your hand away as he eyes your little wound.

There’s just tiny blood, nothing major but he still stares at it with saddened gaze. You can’t holding, bursting in laughter which causes him to look up at you confusingly.

“We’re such a losers.” you tell him, still laughing.

He sighs in relief, shaking his head before a tiny smile plays on his lips. “I’m sorry.” he apologizes again.

Waving him off, you let him know it’s okay and you’re nowhere near finished with him. Turning around, you sit onto his lap rather clumsily, but Jin’s strong arms are there to hold before you’re finally seated and facing him. Nudging his tone with your own, you kiss him again. This time, he controls himself and doesn’t try to bite off your lip. He’s more careful, even though he groans into your mouth with neediness. Rolling your hips into his, you go back to your previous movements that lights up the fire through your veins. It feels good, so good that you feel your panties sticking to your heat and desperate for more touch. Understandably, it’s not enough even though it feels nice. But nice is not enough.

Detaching your lips, Jin flickers his eyes open in a silent question of you pulling away. Licking your lips that taste like him, you look at him through your hooded eyes almost pleadingly.

“I need you, Jin. Take me to your bedroom.”

He nods, understanding the frustration and need behind your words. He feels the same and that’s why he doesn’t hesitate when he tightens his hold on you and stands up. Automatically, you wrap your legs around his frame and silence your squeal by pressing your face into his shoulder. Just as you’re about to compliment his strong arms, and how stronger he’s became ever since he started working out with Jungkook, you’re not able to voice out your thoughts when Jin stumbles onto something and almost sends the both of you onto the floor.

“Jin!” you yell, holding him for dear life as he curses and stumbles some more before he finds a balance.

“Fucking slippers. I told you not to leave them in the middle of the room.” he scolds you, causing you to gasp.

“So, you’re blaming me because you’re clumsy?” you ask him, a frown settling on your face as he tries to open the door to his room.

Luckily, he manages to do that successfully without no injury or danger. He walks you towards his bed, softly pulling you down although he still glares at you. “I’m not clumsy, you’re just too messy.” he blames you, causing you to gasp in disbelief.

“I am messy?” you exclaim, finger digging into your chest as you stare at your boyfriend who starts to chuckle before he hovers over you.

He connects your lips in a soft kiss, silencing you with those plump lips that you can never resist.

“Uhm, you’re. But I love you and your messiness.”

You should be offended he thinks of you as a messy person, which you’re not. Okay, maybe you leave things a certain way and forget to put them back to its place, but it’s nothing too dramatic. You know he’s just teasing you and doesn’t take it too seriously.

He’s kissing you, exploring your mouth like it’s the first time you’re kissing, savoring every moment while his hands travel down your body before you urge him to take off your clothes. You don’t have to voice it, Jin understands you perfectly when you lift your hips up and squirm in your place. He smirks against your kiss, loving how needy you are even though his heart is beating so fast against his rib cage that he fears you can feel it too. He can’t believe today is the day he can make love to you.

He’s taking off your sweatshirt first, catching your earring onto the fabric that causes you to cry out as he’s trying to fix it in a panic. Repeatedly, honest but hectic, words of apology leaves his mouth until he finally manages to take it off without ripping your sweatshirt or causing you any harm. He takes off your glasses that have no real meaning, tossing it onto the mattress beside you but they bounce, falling down the floor.

“Jin, those were expensive!” you scold him, trying to see if they’re in one piece but your boyfriend kindly nudges you to your shoulder.

“No, they weren’t. Aren’t they from Bershka?” he shrugs, kissing down your neck.

You’re trying really hard to think, to talk back at him but it’s almost impossible at the feeling of those damn soft and tender lips.

“Fifteen thousand won is still expensive.” you try to argue, knowing how shitty your argument is. They weren’t that expensive, but they’re pretty and it’d be a shame if they broke because of Jin being careless.

“No, it’s not. If they’re broken, which they aren’t, I’ll buy you a new ones.” he tells you simply, causing you to snort at how easy he throws this argument out of window.

“I bought them last year, they don’t have them anymore.” you grumble back, causing him to groan as he’s working on your sweatpants trying to undo your knot.

“Oh my god, woman. Are you gonna argue me this whole time?” he asks in disbelief, eyes flickering to yours before he lets out a chuckle when he sees your smirk.

“Maybe.” you shrug sassily, however he decides to ignore your teasing and yells in triumph when he finally undo the knot.

Taking off your clothes doesn’t take too long, this time with no harm on your part or your clothes, although he still tosses them onto the floor carelessly. You don’t even comment it anymore, knowing it’s pointless and it’d just evoke another round of bickering. You finally understand what Yoongi meant when he said the two of you are fighting like an old married couple.

Jin has seen you naked couple of times, but you squirm underneath his darkened gaze because knowing what you’re about to do feels much more intimate than ever. He notices your tinted red cheeks and your eyes drifting elsewhere, avoiding him. He catches your attention by reaching for your face, caressing your hot cheek as he smiles.

“You’re so beautiful.” he says softly, your cheeks flaming even more.

It’s nothing new, Jin makes sure to tell you how much beautiful you are almost every day. But it still brings shots of joy and shyness through your body like it’s the first time he has ever said such thing. Most of the time he tells you you’re beautiful in the most inconvenient time. Like that time when you were sick and he surprised you with a warm soup, seeing you with a greesy hair and red nose while snot kept running down your nose.

“Go away, I look ugly.” you told him that time, covering your face with a thick blanket.

But he just laughed you off, shaking his head before he slowly put down the blanket and exposed your sweaty face. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

He told you and even though you didn’t believe him, considering how awful you looked back then, the honesty that was in his eyes is the same one he holds right now.

His words of love and honesty sends relief rushing through your body and you allow yourself relax, not wanting to feel any discomfort that he’s seeing you naked. Jin’s fingers travel down your neck, slowly touching your chest before he moves down your stomach. Every move he makes, his eyes flicker to yours as if he’s checking your reaction, and it warms your heart. Biting onto your lower lip, you take a deep breath when his fingers hover over your heat.

“Open up for me, princess.” he whispers, not budging as he waits for you to react. He gives you space to back out, this is different than all the times you were intimate together, so he’s extra careful with each move he makes.

However you don’t need him to be extra careful, of course you appreciate it, but you’re hundred percent sure of this. That’s why you spread your legs and allow his eyes to see your glistening core. His breath catches in his throat and he almost starts to choke but he plays it cool, gulping furiously with widened eyes. It makes you giggle, finding his reaction natural and amusing. Also, it strokes your ego quite a lot knowing the sight of your heat makes him react this way.

Spreading your folds, he starts rubbing your wet pussy while biting onto his lower lip. Moaning, you spread your legs even more to give him more space especially when he starts kissing your thighs. He drinks you in, looking up at you through his hooded eyes and thick eyelashes, all while peppering your exposed skin with soft kisses and fingers spreading your wetness. He sinks his finger in, cursing when he feels your walls clenching around his single digit. Circling onto your clit with his thumb, he leans down before he latches those plump lips replacing his thumb. Arching your back from the mattress, you gasp when he starts making out with your clit, while still pumping his finger. Your juices leak out of you, embarrassingly almost too much, but you don’t seem to care. Your attention is solely on your boyfriend and how much he pleases you. He takes the opportunity to sink another finger in, penetrating your tight hole even more. It feels so fucking amazing and you plead him for more.

Your attentive boyfriend, whose goal is to make you feel good, listens to you and adds another finger. This time, you feel the stretch even more and you moan loudly when he curls all three fingers inside you. He rubs your velvety walls, picking up the pace until your legs are shaking and he recognizes as a sign of approaching orgasm. Ten more pumps of his long fingers, the knot in your stomach loosen up and you’re letting go, finally cumming around his fingers that rides you through your orgasm.

He takes that time, and the fact your cum is stripping down his fingers and your heat, he adds another finger. You gasp, his name leaving your mouth at the sudden pressure.

“I know, princess. I just need to stretch you out some more.” he says, deciding to pull out when he sees your face scrunched in discomfort.

Flickering your eyes open, you look at your boyfriend who takes his glistening fingers from your cum into a mouth. He cleans them off, making sure he’s looking straight into your eyes as he does it. You gasp, slowly sitting up as you lean towards him and connect your lips. He yelps in surprise into your mouth, not expecting you to kiss him so suddenly but he welcomes it. The fact you’re kissing him despite where his mouth just was, and that you can taste yourself on his tongue, drives him insane as he groans into your mouth. Your hands travel down his chest, caressing him through his shirt when you slowly pull away.

“You’re wearing too much clothes,” you comment quietly, biting your lip when you see his smirk. “We need to change that.”

And you do. He helps you taking off his clothes, your eyes and hands too busy touching his broad shoulders that you’ve always admired. His movements are quick and he doesn’t show how horny he is to finally feel how it feels like being inside someone. No, it’s not like that at all. He takes off all of his clothes slowly, kissing you every now and then as you urge him to keep going. It’s almost like he’s waiting for you to stop him any second. Not because he wants to stop, but because he’s thoughtful enough to make sure you still want this. Warmth spreads all over your heart and when the last piece of clothing is taken off, which happens to be his boxers, you pull him closer and kiss him passionate and hard.

He’s surprised, but kisses you back with the same intensity. You can feel the love through your kiss, it’s magical. You’ve never felt about anyone this way, and it’s not just because he’s your boyfriend. But even when the two of you met, he was such a spectacular person that sparked a light of interest inside you.

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly, as soon as you pull away.

Shrugging, you smile at him. “I just love you so much.” you admit, his features softening even more as he pouts for some reason.

“I love you too, my princess.” he says, kissing you again before you’re laying down and spreading your legs.

Gulping, he looks at your heat before his eyes are back staring into yours. “Are you, really like, really sure about this?”

“You seem more nervous than me. I’m the one who is gonna be stuffed with your dick, after all.” you tease, hearing him groan causing you to shrug.

He’s the one who said it like that. You’re just repeating his own words.

“I’m serious about this, Y/N.” he tells you softly, but his voice still holds some kind of seriousness that makes him even hotter.

He’s so fucking hot, you can’t believe he’s your boyfriend. From his beautiful black hair that almost fall into his eyes that adds major points to his sexiness, to his naked form that shows how broad and muscular he is. He’s no bodybuilder, but you can see his fit stomach and biceps that are definitely proof of his hard work of working out. And his intelligence and the dork side of him, just adds to his sexiness. It’s an interesting combination but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“If you really ask me that one more time, I swear— yes, Jinnie, I’m sure about this.” you sigh, appreciating that he’s so thoughtful and constantly checking up with you.

As much as you appreciate what he’s doing, you’re too horny and you want to feel him. There some kind of nervousness because well, you’ve never experienced what you’re about to do. But you’re rather excited and giddy, wanting to take this next step, both in your life and relationship. It feels right.

“Okay.” Is all he says, adding a special softness into his tone as he pulls away and gives you a perfect sight of his hardened length.

Gulping, you almost forgot how long and thick he is. It definitely sends a wave of arousal and nervousness at the same time to your body. Luckily, Jin doesn’t notice your widened eyes and the way you dryly gulp as he reaches for the nightstand beside your head. If he noticed, he’d surely ask you the same question he’s already asked too many times.

When he shuts the drawer with a loud thud, louder than you both expected causing you to flinch, he sheepishly grins and apologizes but you just shake it off with a quick wave of your hand. Your attention is back onto his hardened cock that slaps against his stomach, while your boyfriend’s hands are too busy opening up the condom wrapper. Slowly sitting up, his eyes flicker to yours but are back to the silver wrapper completely oblivious about your next step. As soon as you wrap your small hand that barely hugs his length, he gasps and jerks forward in surprise.

“Come on, keep going. Open it.” you urge him, slowly squeezing him as he gulps and nods.

However, he seems to grow even more frustrated when he can’t open it even with using his teeth causing you to laugh.

“What the hell? I can’t open this.” he complains, cheeks red and evident frown decorating his face.

Hiding a snort, you take the condom from your frustrated boyfriend’s hands, opening it up with ease. Arching a brow at him, you smile when he shyly coughs and tries to hide the same red tint that his cheeks have. Although, before you can tease him a little bit over the fact he really has condoms in his nightstand, since you really haven’t planned this, you notice something different.

“Extra large?” you ask, studying the wrapper with widened eyes as they turn into a mere smirk. Looking up at your boyfriend, you don’t see the look that you expect him to have.

You expect him to be cocky, confident because despite of his nerd and dorky personality, this man can really find his confidence in the most bizarre situations which makes you love him even more. Guys are usually confident about their dick size.

Aren’t they having some comparison competition of their dicks size?

But not your boyfriend. His cheeks seem to get even more red while he innocently shrugs.

“Ah, it’s... nothing.” he murmurs, causing you to chuckle.

“It’s nothing? You’re gonna rip me in half.” you exclaim, giggling when you see the terror in his deep brown eyes.

“No! I wouldn’t— we don’t have to continue.” he sulks back, trying to hide his aching length with hands over it but he’s doing a poor job at it.

“No, no. That’s not what I meant,” you assure him, cursing yourself for teasing him. It’s not the right time to do that. “I was just joking,”

Kinda. There really is a chance he’s not going to fit.

“Come on, Jin. I’ll be fine, I’m waiting for you.” you tease, waving him with a condom before you hand it to him.

Slowly, he takes it and gulps when you lay back and spread your legs for him. You watch him clumsily putting it on before he’s checking if he’s done it properly. He’s so cute, yet sexy when his muscles flex with each movement.

When he’s pleased with himself, he hovers over you and kisses you slowly. You melt into the kiss, nothing else on your mind than your boyfriend’s lips and him as the person you love the most. Gasping into his mouth, you’re surprised when you feel his hand over your heat before he dips his three fingers in and scissors them while he’s trying to do the best to penetrate your hole again.

“I know, I know,” he murmurs against your lips, but doesn’t pull away entirely. “I gotta do this.” he says, pumping them all over again.

This time, he’s trying to penetrate you even more than the first time and it takes two minutes until you’re falling apart again and having the second orgasm of the day. You’re more than aware that you probably won’t have any orgasm during the actual sex. Your cum leaks down Jin’s fingers as he pulls them out but doesn’t put them in a mouth this time. Through hooded eyes, you watch him smearing your cum all over his length that’s securely wrapped in a condom that glistens from your juices. Your pulsating heat clenches around nothing, finding this extremely hot and exciting.

When he hovers over you again, you know it’s time. His hands on both sides of your head and eyes locked into yours, he licks his plump lips as he opens his mouth. “You ready?”

You nod, stuttering over your words knowing he wants to hear you say it, rather than give him a nonverbal answer. “Yes, ready.”

Jin takes a deep breath, which comes out shaky before he wraps his hand around his length. Giving himself a few pumps, your cum a perfect lubricant to make the act easier, before he’s ready to enter you. However, he doesn’t expect you to jerk and yelp so loudly that he backs away immediately with a terrified look.

“What’s-what’s wrong?” he asks right away, staring at your closed eyes and red cheeks.

“That was my... other hole,” you scold him, “you were about to...”

You don’t need to finish for him to understand what he’s done and what you mean before his own cheeks are back to red color. Along his neck that shows his embarrassment even more.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I thought— I’m such an idiot.” he sulks, almost ready to cry as you chuckle at the situation and reach for him.

“No, just be careful.”

His head snaps up, eyes staring at you. “You wanna keep going?”

He sounds genuinely surprised. Poor guy, he probably thought you don’t want his dick anywhere near you. Not after he almost entered into a wrong hole, the whole situation is ridiculously funny despite of your heart hammering in your neck from the fact it could all go wrong.

“Of course,” you assure him, hiding a smile that he still notices. “Just be careful, make sure you... y’know...”

Oh, fuck. Since when do you get this awkward?

“Ah, yeah, of course.” Jin nods before he hovers over you all again.

This time, his eyes stay attached to his length while he makes sure he enters you well.

The first second of his tip poking your clit makes you shiver, your whole body ready to take him while you can’t believe you’re about to lose your virginity. And the fact it’s with someone you love deeply, it makes it all even more special.

When you feel him against your heat, ready to push in, you hold your breath while you’re trying to keep yourself relaxed.

“Oh fuck,” you curse, already feeling him stretching you even though he’s not even in.

He eyes you carefully, moving when you give him a short nod to let him keep going. With each gasp and inch he pushes in, he really makes sure he can continue as he starts filling you in. Tears prickle in your eyes, the stretch seems almost too unbearable while you feel like you’re being ripped in half. When Jin tells you that he’s not even halfway in, you almost cry out loud but you’re doing your best trying to control your reactions. You know as soon Jin would see you struggle to take him too much, he’ll back out immediately. His hand goes back between your legs, shaky fingers circling your clit as he’s trying to make this more bearable for you. It helps, not too much but it’s definitely better since there’s at least some kind of friction. As soon as he’s all way in, and he doesn’t fail to inform you about that, you finally let out long and shaky breath that you were holding. The feeling is so weird, not comfortable at all, but bearable even though you feel like he’s poking your stomach. You look down, eyes widening when you see an evident bulge of your stomach that’s Jin’s dick. He looks down, cursing at the sight as he goes to kiss you.

“You’re doing so good, princess.” he praises you, letting you adjust to him while he whispers praises all kind to your ear.

This is it. You’re not a virgin anymore.

You don’t feel any triumphant feeling because of it, although there’s so much love inside your heart knowing you’ve taken this huge step with your loving boyfriend.

When your arms and legs are wrapped around his much bigger body than your is, you tap his back telling him to move. He looks skeptical but nods as he starts pulling out. You cringe at the feeling, breathing through it before he slowly enters you again. He repeats this, making the feeling and tension better even though you can’t feel any pleasure yet.

It’s an instinct, his body telling him to go faster and harder on you, but he’s controlling himself so much. All because of you. He doesn’t want to hurt you and even though, he knows you’re not enjoying this as much as he is, he’s trying to do his best to make this memorable for you.

He doesn’t know that it already is pretty memorable for you.

When you start to feel the slightest pinch of pleasure, you let out a soft gasp mixed with a moan that Jin recognizes right away, he lets himself relax more and does what his body tells him to. He starts thrusting into you with more swift and steady thrusts, which after a few seconds turn into faster and needy ones. Face burrowed into the mattress that’s right underneath and beside your neck, he’s grunting and falling apart with each second. Caressing his back, you coax him and tell him how amazing he is, how much you love him.

“I love you s—“

“A-aaaahhh,” he cuts you off with a low and loud moan, his body stopping all of a sudden as his hips jerk before his heavy body crushes you.

He fills up the condom, chest heaving with harsh and fast breaths like he just ran a marathon.

Did he just cum?

You let your boyfriend stay like that until he fully recovers from his orgasm, still recovering yourself over the fact it took him three minutes to cum. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, especially after he just discovered why everyone praises sex so much. He understands now.

Pulling out of you, he lifts himself up as he sits onto his knees and stares at you with flushed cheeks and shy gaze. “I’m sorry.”

You frown in confusion, slowly sitting up as well, ignoring the ache between your legs and emptiness that Jin has left there. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I-I thought I’d last longer, you didn’t even cum.” he murmurs embarrassingly, sliding off the condom with a cringe while he tosses it into bin that’s in the corner of his bedroom.

He avoids your eyes, slowly sitting back into his previous spot as he wishes he could just bury himself.

“It’s okay,” you tell him softly, reaching for his hand thag you caress gently. “I came twice. Please, don’t worry about it.”

“But you didn’t even enjoy it!” he exclaims, suddenly growing frustrated why you’re so fine with this.

He’s so fucking embarrassed and the look in your eyes screams pity.

“How do you know that? I enjoyed that, Jin, trust me. Maybe I didn’t cum or was screaming out of pleasure, but this was the first time we were doing this. The feeling was so foreign but I know it’ll get better next time, and then better and better, until we can’t get enough of it.” you tell him, coming closer to him as you bump your foreheads before you kiss him.

He doesn’t object, letting you kiss him while he kisses you back before you pull back and he sighs.

“Are you sure?” he mumbles softly.

“Of course,” you nod, “Three minutes aren’t that bad. I thought you’d last less to be honest.” you comment causing him to glare at you.

“Y/N!” he exclaims in embarrassment, trying to hide his face but you don’t allow him to, gripping his hands tightly in your smaller ones.

“I’m joking, I’m joking!” you laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe we’re not virgins anymore.”

For some reason, Jin smiles and stares at you. As you’re about to ask him while he’s staring at you, he beats you to it and his soft voice resounds in the room.

“Me too, and I can’t believe we hadn’t planned it as well. It just happened and I can’t believe it did. I love you.” he confesses.

“Aw, come here, I love you too.” you gush, reaching for another kiss which he gladly gives you.

“But I still can’t get over the smell of sex.” he scrunches his nose as he starts sniffling which makes you snort.

“Well get used to it,” you pat his shoulder, standing up.

You don’t care that you can feel his eyes on your naked ass, silently admiring your body you used to be insecure about. Turning around, he tries to masks the fact he really stared at your ass but fails miserably as usual.

“We’re not gonna play Fornite or other games that much anymore.” you smirk, crouching down to pick up your glasses that for Jin’s sake, are untouched with no damage done.

“No games?” he asks with open mouth and doe eyes, causing you to snort.

“Who’s the nerd now?”

“I’m not nerd!” he says, standing up as he helps you to pick up your clothes.

“Whatever you say,” you mumble, teasing him which you do successfully when you see him pouting from the corner of your eyes. “But I could really play another round of fornite after we take a shower.” you suggest, his eyes lightening all of a sudden as he nods.

“Yeah, let’s go!” he calls out in a complete excitement as he rushes to the bathroom that makes you snicker.

“Nerd,” you mumble, not expecting him to hear you.

“I heard you!” he yells, obviously hearing you.

A soft smile plays on your lips as you put your glasses on top of his desk, following your boyfriend to the bathroom.

The whole day is spent with you two playing games, ignoring messages from your friends before you go for a round two.

But it’s not Fornite or any game that Jin can gush about.

Because you happen to be the only thing he loves to gush about, and his determination to make you feel good and understand how making love really feels, is his next task that you happily obey.

[sineala]

A Few Thoughts About Hurt/Comfort

I have been asked this month to make a post about hurt/comfort in Avengers comics. And I love h/c -- I actually have a massive number of WIPs right now that are h/c -- so I am very happy to talk about it! Anyway, this is not really all that planned out and this mostly turned into an excursus on Tony Stark's pain. I'm sure you're all surprised.

Like pretty much everyone else, I'm sure, I have found that everything lately has been... pretty tough. And the coping mechanism that really got me through last year and this year was reading and writing a lot of h/c, on the theory that, however lousy a day I'm having, I can absolutely make sure that Tony Stark has a worse one. And then I can make sure he gets hugs. Wish fulfillment? Why, yes. (Once at Hallmark I was trying to find a "get well soon" card, forgot what it was called, and described it to my wife as "a hurt/comfort card.") I think Marvel Comics -- the Avengers side, in particular -- is an interesting canon for h/c for a lot of reasons. Though, honestly, if you asked me to recommend you, a hurt/comfort fan, a new fandom, I would probably just hand you some Starsky & Hutch DVDs. Go watch "The Fix" and get back to me later. If you like that, there's way more where that came from. But there's still lots to love in Marvel! Superhero comics are really a goldmine as far as the hurt side of h/c. Because superheroes, and you probably have noticed this, get hurt a lot. They get hurt repeatedly, in fantastical ways that are probably impossible in real life both physically and emotionally (at least, I don't think anyone's invented mind control yet), and even the heroes without superhuman healing powers tend to get physically hurt a whole lot worse than actual people can take. Currently in Iron Man comics, Tony has a broken back and is dealing with this by locking himself into the armor as a backboard and injecting himself with massive doses of painkillers. He's busy! He's got stuff to do! He doesn't have time to lie around and heal! So, basically, if you name a kind of pain that you would like to see happen to a character, it's probably happened to superheroes. Multiple times. The downside, though, is that comics do not really deliver that well when it comes to the comfort part of h/c. They could. It's not inherent to the medium that they don't. But because of the serial nature of comics and also the fact the primary audience is dudes who want to read about people in spandex punching each other, a lot of the time they don't really feel the need to provide closure and write about people dealing with any of the hurt. (Raise your hand if you're still annoyed with the end of Hickman's Avengers run.) But at the same time, I think that's a quality that makes Avengers ripe for h/c fanfic. Because, generally speaking, fandom likes to provide the things that canon doesn't, and fandom is more than happy to provide the comfort. If you enjoy canonical h/c in comics, I think you really can't go wrong with Iron Man. One of the big innovations of modern Marvel Comics was the concept that heroes would also suffer from relatable human problems, and in practice what this means is that a lot of heroes start with a fully-loaded angst-ridden backstory and origin story, ripe for h/c. So Tony starts out by incurring a heart injury that he fully expects is going to kill him, which he responds to by vowing he won't get close to anyone so they won't be sad when he dies, and throughout the early Silver Age is constantly on the brink of death as his heart nearly gives out on him practically every issue. And then even after his heart gets (mostly) better, there are various plots involving his armor being detrimental to his health and him choosing to fight on anyway. It's hard for me to think of another superhero hitting that particular variety of h/c in exactly the same way. Sure, superheroes risk their lives constantly, because this is how superhero comics work, but Tony is the only one I can think of who is this constantly this badly off, physically. Like, think of all the other heroes who have had a continual solo presence as fan favorites across Marvel history -- Captain America, Thor, Spider-Man, Wolverine, maybe even Deadpool. You know what those guys all have? Healing factors! For the most part, they are not running around continually on the verge of death, and while there are certainly memorable arcs involving several of them being severely injured and/or dead, you really have to work at it. It's not their constant state of affairs, whereas Tony is the kind of superhero who shows up to a fight already bleeding out under his armor. Yeah, I know Extremis gave him a healing factor. But he didn't have it very long, and also he did some extremely dangerous things while he did have it; I'm pretty sure I've never seen Wolverine saying that he'll just solve a problem by cutting off his own foot. So, anyway, yeah, there are a bunch of good arcs involving h/c for Tony. If you're looking for physical injury, he has a whole bunch of heart problems over the years, gets several new hearts, then ruins his brain, et cetera. That level of hurt is basically the background pain of Tony's life; every so often, his heart will get damaged or he'll have to live in the armor or the armor will be killing him, et cetera. If you're looking for more unusual trauma, I am, as always, going to rec Manhunt, a relatively obscure arc in late v3 (IM v3 #65-69) in which Tony has an extremely bad week. His tech is stolen and used to bomb a building. Then he gets shot in the chest. Then while he's at the hospital a nurse tries and fails to poison him, and she then tries to beat him to death. Then he checks himself out of the hospital and a helicopter shoots missiles at him. Then he becomes a fugitive from justice. And then, oh, yeah, he has to fight the Mandarin. It is... a lot. (Volume 3 of Iron Man is pretty good as far as h/c possibilities. You've got a lot of physical pain, Carol's drinking arc, the Sentient Armor, both DreamVision arcs, and Manhunt. Manhunt is finally supposed to be out in trade this month, by the way.) There are of course the drinking arcs, which probably count as their own type of hurt. But if you haven't read the second drinking arc (IM #160-200), please do. Marvel likes to up the stakes on events (Fear Itself, Secret Empire) by making Tony drink, and it does work, I think. I feel like I've spoken at length about Tony's drinking elsewhere so I don't really want to rehash it all here. And then there's the emotional pain. Angst and drama is something that happens to a whole bunch of characters, yes, especially in comics, but somehow Tony seems to end up with possibly more than his fair share of it. Fandom likes to make a lot of Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, so much so that you might think, if you didn't know canon, that this was just fandom running with a throwaway mention of Tony's terrible childhood and making it worse. But, no, canon really does go there with a reasonable amount of frequency. Howard's actual first appearance is in a flashback where he's ordering teenage Tony to break up with his girlfriend because she's the daughter of one of Howard's business rivals. And then we get into the verbal abuse, and the physical abuse, and the time Howard made Tony take his first drink, and the part where Howard was a demon in hell who Tony fought while he insulted him. And more! Currently, in canon, Howard is alive again and is in league with Mephisto for the express purpose of ruining Tony's life. Also when Tony was a baby, Howard tried to trade him to Dracula. I think you can make an argument that fandom is actually showing restraint when compared to canon. Tony also has a whole lot of Terrible Exes whose presence and/or former presence in Tony's life can be used for a lot of hurt. If you've read any amount of fanfic, you probably know that the exes who get the most play in fandom are Sunset Bain and Tiberius Stone -- not that Tony and Ty were ever canonically a couple, of course, but fandom is definitely enamored of this idea. Ty and Sunset both have relatively similar interactions with Tony in canon, in that they are both liars and emotional abusers, heavy on the gaslighting, with the purpose of becoming more successful than Tony. They both also attempt to murder Tony, although this is after he figures out they're evil, at least. (Yes, I know, this is not how either of them usually appear in AUs.) Tony also has a bunch of exes who also have just straight-up tried to murder or otherwise hurt him, sometimes while they are dating, and sometimes before Tony dates them: Whitney Frost, Indries Moomji, Kathy Dare, and Maya Hansen come to mind. There are probably more I'm not thinking of! But, yes, if you want to write about a guy in a series of terrible relationships, please consider Iron Man comics. If mind control is one of your favorite flavors of hurt, Tony's pretty good for that too. We all know about The Crossing. I suppose when I say "mind control" I mostly mean "armor control" because there are an awful lot of plots where someone else makes Tony's armor do whatever they want it to do and Tony is along for the ride -- Demon in a Bottle, Sentient Armor, and Execute Program are the first things that come to mind. There is also a fairly obscure What If that is What If Iron Man Lost The Armor Wars in which Justin Hammer apparently really wants Tony in a mind control collar to take off all his clothes and lounge around in his underwear. No, really. I think a lot of pain for Tony often revolves around his issues with control, generally -- his alcoholism comes into play here again. The entire aftermath of Civil War is also notable for its propensity to hurt Tony over and over and over. Is he stoically soldiering on through his grief after Steve dies? Hell, no! He cries, like, six separate times. He 100% blames himself for Steve's death. It's great. Everybody loves The Confession and the funeral in Fallen Son, but one of my personal favorites is Avengers/Invaders, in which Tony is confronted with a time-traveling Steve from WWII and in order not to screw up the timeline, he can't tell Steve he knows him. He is clearly not coping well. He shuts himself in a room with a giant wall of pictures of Steve! Also there's a part where he has to try to convince Steve he can trust him and he ends up having to tie Steve to a chair to talk to him, and Steve looks at him and asks, "Who did you kill to get where you are?" and I feel like that is probably one of the worst moments in Tony's life. No wonder he gave himself amnesia. So now we might want to ask, okay, but why is hurting Tony in fanfiction so much fun? I mean, I can tell you why I think it's fun. I can't speak for anyone else. One reason is that he is very emotional and very affected by everything he does. Sometimes you will see people complaining that the heroes of m/m fanfic cry too much and this is not realistic. This is not a problem if you're writing Tony! He can cry as much as you want and it's perfectly in character. I don't think it would be as fun to hurt him if he didn't express so much of his pain. But he does. He also feels guilty, and for me that's a very satisfying character element. If he were well-adjusted and didn't blame himself for so many things, it wouldn't be nearly as fun as watching him blame himself for everyone whose death he thinks he is responsible for, whether or not he is. And then he just keeps going, and it's, y'know, nice to watch him be resilient, too. So, I guess, I think hurting him is interesting because it's easy to hurt him, his weak points are pretty obvious, and he reacts a lot. Steve doesn't hurt quite as much as Tony does, in canon. It's certainly possible to hurt him -- I mean, they did actually kill him after Civil War, after all -- but I don't think the canonical patterns of hurting him are as numerous. Obviously deseruming Steve is a fairly popular go-to in terms of physical hurt; he's been deserumed at least three times that I know of. I think's easy to see the appeal there of taking a character who is fairly physically resilient and making him... much less so. Certainly Marvel seems to see the appeal. But other than that I don't think he has any other really common way to get physically injured. Unlike Tony, whose origin story is basically "oh no, I've acquired a disability," Steve's origin story is "I drank a serum that cured all my disabilities." Which, I mean, great wish fulfillment but there's not really as much there to poke at. Pretty much all of Steve's pain is emotional, but, unlike Tony, his pain isn't often specifically in response to someone directly, purposefully hurting him. Hickman's Avengers run is a big exception, yes. His pain seems to come up most often as a kind of situational angst. He feels like a man out of time. He feels out of touch with the modern era, with people his own age. He feels guilt because he feels responsible for Bucky's death. He feels like he can't trust the government and therefore he can't be Captain America. He worries that he doesn't know how to have a normal life. And, yes, these are deep and important worries but it's different than, like, Indries Moomji dumping Tony with the intent to make him sad enough to start drinking. Very few of Steve's villains want to personally ruin Steve's entire life the way Tony's villains do; mostly they just want to do things like bring back the Nazis. In terms of Steve's potential for h/c, I think Steve is harder to hurt than Tony is. Physically, he is definitely harder to hurt. You can deserum him, sure, but unless you want everything you write to be a deseruming fic you're probably not going to want to do that more than a couple of times. And if you want to hurt him physically while he has the serum, you have to hurt him hard. Usually past the point where a regular human would ever survive it. He's also harder to break, emotionally, than Tony is -- which means it's very satisfying when you can get him to break, but this is a guy who's only cried twice (that I remember) in canon. So if you want to get him to cry, you really, really have to wreck him, and he doesn't have as many obvious weak spots. He also doesn't generally sit around blaming himself for things that aren't his fault, and the whole "stewing in guilt" genre of plots for him basically came down to "he was sad that he thought Bucky's death was his fault," and that's really the biggest regret he seems to have, and also Bucky's not dead anymore. The Steve/Tony relationship itself, I would think, is also appealing to h/c fans because canon provides a lot of ways for them to hurt each other. Some people only ship pairings who would never, y'know, take turns beating each other half to death in major event comics. (And for a lot of Marvel Comics history, that was also Steve & Tony, so if you want them to be BFFs who have never fought, you can just set your fic earlier.) They have definitely hurt each other both physically and emotionally, so if you're looking for something easy and satisfying as a h/c fan, you can just read or write something where they... make up. What about Marvel characters other than Steve and Tony? Surely some of them are angsty, yes? Well, yes, but also it depends on the particular flavor of angst that you like. If you like the way Tony hurts, you may very well enjoy Doctor Strange comics, because they have a very similar attitude towards life -- they are both former alcoholics whose origin stories involve physical disabilities, who routinely make tactical decisions that negatively affect their continued existence and/or happiness a whole lot. It's very much an "I must suffer alone in the dark and no one will ever know what I am doing to save the world but it's the right thing to do" sort of vibe. Like, you can read comics where Strange is lying in hell with two broken legs, hallucinating that Clea has finally come to save him. Strange's biggest fear, akin to Tony's control issues, is basically that one day he's going to be an asshole again, so he's out there trying as hard as he can to do good. Also, if you like tentacles, he has all of them. I mean that. Carol also occasionally hits similar angst spots, and her drinking arc is great. A lot of people like Natasha, too; I have read zero Black Widow comics but I get the impression many people enjoy her brand of angst. The mutant metaphor is a little different in terms of overall vibe, but some people really like it as a source of angst -- the whole "protecting a world who hates and fears them" thing. It may not work for you, but if you like your hurt to include things like systemic oppression, go pick up some X-Men comics. Start with something like God Loves Man Kills. I feel like I liked this sort of thing a lot more as a teenager but that I kind of aged out of liking the mutants quite so much. It's also worth mentioning that not everything that hits the spot in one universe will be the same in the others, and I'm mentioning this because I feel like I have to say something about MCU Bucky. MCU fandom seems to get a lot of mileage out of Bucky's guilt about being the Winter Soldier, everything he was forced to do, et cetera. I have definitely read my share of those fics, and FATWS sure went right for that angst too. But as far as I can tell, he doesn't hit the same way at all in 616. And I like him a lot in 616; I'm always pleased when he shows up on a team. (He was so good in Strikeforce. Everyone was so good in Strikeforce.) But the thing is, 616 Bucky is, basically, phenomenally well-adjusted, given everything he's gone through, and I'm including the time he wrestled a bear in a gulag. He gets over having been the Winter Soldier, and now he's just, y'know, a guy with a cool arm who likes to bring guns to every fight to horrify his teammates, and he snarks at Clint. If you're looking for that angst, that is really not him these days. He's all better. So pretty much all that is canon. So what do we do in fandom for h/c? Well, as far as I can tell, a decent amount of it is canon-based or very canon-close -- there are a whole lot of stories exploring the angst of Civil War or Hickman's Avengers run. Tony's drinking comes up a fair amount, and if one of Tony's Evil Exes comes back to haunt him, it's pretty much only Tiberius Stone. I don't think I've read a lot of fic with Steve getting deserumed; it doesn't seem as popular in fandom as in canon. When Steve gets hurt, he tends to just get physically whumped pretty hard, and there's a fair amount of that for Tony too, but of course Steve can take more. There's also a thriving, uh, subgenre of pain involving Hydra Steve doing terrible things to Tony, presumably the terrible things he would have wanted to do to Tony in canon if Tony had had a flesh body. There's the usual kinds of h/c setups that appear in basically every fandom as well -- sickfic, whump, dub-con/non-con. You get the idea. But since fandom in general likes to take specific inspiration from canon, there's a lot of fic where the hurt tends to resemble things that happen more in canon. Like, I feel like comics fic probably has more tentacle fic and more mind control than canons that don't come pre-stocked with those. Probably everybody has a whole lot of "tied up by bad guys," though. And then, of course, fandom brings the comfort that canon does not. This is true in pretty much every fandom -- I mean, you aren't going to find a lot of actual canons where Character A saves Character B from mortal peril and then there's gay sex -- but, like I was saying, comics don't provide a lot of closure before it's onto the next thing. Usually with a different creative team, who has no interest in wrapping up anything from the last team. Steve and Tony talked about the incursions exactly once after Secret Wars and nobody mentioned the part where Steve spent several months trying to hunt Tony down and kill him. Tony is never going to remember the events of Civil War. Hydra Steve died ignominiously in a fire and no one has ever talked about him again. Honestly, if you're looking for a way to get some comfort in your fanfic, picking an event, any event, and just having the characters talk about it will be way more than any of them get in canon. I feel like honestly that can often be a pretty satisfying to read. And even though comics canon physically hurts characters pretty often and pretty badly, they also often skip right past the recovery. Maybe you'll get one page of a character in a hospital bed at the end of the story arc. Maybe you won't. Demon in a Bottle has one splash page of Tony going through alcohol withdrawal and then he's all better. I think Manhunt skips to Tony getting out of the hospital at the end. That's just not a story that they want to tell very often. The second drinking arc is notable in that it devotes almost as many issues to Tony's recovery as it does to getting him to rock-bottom. Similarly, Steve is done with his Nomad angst way way faster than you probably think he is (though The Captain does go in for a fair number of issues). So one of the things we often want to do in fandom is focus on all the bits that canon skips over, both in the "why did no one ever mention this story arc ever again" way and the "wow, so how long are they in the hospital after that" way. That's really all I can think of about h/c! I'm off to write some more of it!

[dontcallmecarrie]

Replying to the commenters of this post [heads up for angst]:

To @kine-iende, who said:​

hot damn. if "our" justin was a mom-friend in their home-universe, here people would start questioning if justin was in secret a very motherly scrull or something (and be fine with it ^^). but yeah, love the trope too. was it "for the want of a nail" or "through a mirrorm darkly"? well, contrast and a what could have been would be lovely. feel enabled, whenever you want to write this :)

.

I am not very familiar with the concept of Skrulls [...iirc, that’s something introduced in Captain Marvel, which I have yet to get around to], but yeah, that tracks. Assuming it’s a thing they know to look for, though, because here Justin’s being themself is the biggest and most obvious way to establish that they are not canon!Justin.

Sure, they’re identical physically, but the moment either Justin opens his mouth, the jig’s up. 

As is, not five minutes into this strange hellscape where their oldest rival looked at them with no small amount of disdain in his eyes at first, Justin had already managed to charm their way out of holding and into a very relaxed “we’ll keep an eye on him” Avengers custody. 

Well, on paper at least— in reality, most of the team doesn’t really give a damn one way or another, whereas Tony starts out morbidly curious as to just how different NHDD!Justin is to the one he’s used to dealing with, and ends up getting a concentrated dose of All The Feels™ because the moment NHDD!Justin realized this Tony had a metric buttload of undiagnosed-and-constantly-belittled mental health issues and a support system that was equal parts duct tape and caffeine, he went “oh, so this universe is the Hell Timeline, okay, makes sense :) :) :) dammit Ivan you’d better fix this stat”. 

In retrospect, Justin’s not sure when exactly the horror show started; if it was the absolute lack of concern or care the Avengers had for their Tony, or the minute they noticed the gauntness in his face. Maybe the tension between Iron Man and Captain America, or the obvious bravado this Tony used– and the fact that none of the others so much as noticed.

All Justin knows is, a version of someone they care about is hurting, hurting badly and has been for a long time now, and that’s more than enough for them to go “oh, okay, mine now”.

.

For his part, Tony has no idea what the hell’s going on. The non-annoying Justin Hammer who crash-landed an Avengers debrief is...something else, and he’s torn between shock, pleasant surprise, and no small amount of existential angst and jealousy because in the span of a few hours, Tony’s had a brief taste of what some other version of him had for a lifetime, and...

Tony’s not sure how he feels about it. He’s a genius, he can wrap his head around string theory and all that good stuff, but numbers are one thing, having to live with the fact that somewhere out there, a version of him grew up with someone so unfailingly kind and supportive and—Tony can’t think of a better word for it than nurturing— and, in the span of seconds, had been able to call him out on his bullshit and seemed to instinctively push him to be better but not in the demanding way his father or the rest of the world had—

If he thinks about it too long, it makes him want to cry, just a little. Somewhere out there was a Tony who’d been enough for someone, who had never been asked to change himself, who’d been pushed up instead of repeatedly torn down and he didn’t know how to deal. 

He’d thought having a non-annoying Justin around would be funny.

This was not, it was goddamn distressing is what it was, because Tony hadn’t even known it was a possibility but now he is acutely aware of the fact that he got stuck with his Justin— the human embodiment of one of those yappy dogs who nipped at people’s heels thinking they were so tough, despite not being able to back it up.

This Justin was, uh, not that. Tony wasn’t sure if he was always like this, or if it was only with him because he shared a face with someone Justin cared about, but... was he always this much of a mom friend? And where’d that granola bar even come from, anyway? Not that he minded, it was a nice change of pace, but really?

...Tony was really going to miss him, once they figured out a way to send him back home.

.

To the commenter who said:

Stephanie isn’t a canon character, is she? Because if not, NHDD!Justin might be able to pull off a “the birth of my little sister awakened my previously deeply buried parental instincts” to explain his whole… [gestures uselessly].

.

Technically, she could be, in that Justin Hammer has a sister and nephew in canon [according to the wiki and a deleted scene, apparently]. I chose to make her a younger sibling in NHDD, to really emphasize the ‘reincarnated with shitty memory’ aspect of this AU. Specifically, while it’s never specified, Justin’s past life was...not great, and part of it was the fact that their younger sibling was sick. 

With what, they don’t remember anymore, but sick enough that they know health isn’t something to take for granted; sick enough that towards the end, they remember their parents had to choose between paying hospital bills and electricity, remember going to bed hungry because meds were expensive and their next paycheck wasn’t until Friday.

...suffice it is to say, there’s a reason Justin’s so protective of those he cares about, even if his memories faded a bit on the specifics as time went by.

To be fair, canon!Justin also cares for his sister and nephew; it’s just that NHDD!Justin acted more like a third parent than a sibling, once Stephanie was born. 

Bear in mind that canon!Justin’s situation is very different than NHDD!Justin’s, because canon!Justin was basically set up to fail from the start as a normal kid who was constantly compared to a child prodigy two years younger than him and terrible parents. While NHDD!Justin’s situation is similar on the surface, the difference is they’re literally a reincarnated OC, with all the baggage that entails.

Maybe, if their second life hadn’t been surrounded by adults with A+ Parenting Skills, 0/10 Do Not Recommend, their issues and traumas from last time wouldn’t have been exacerbated. If they’d been born to a regular family, Justin would’ve been a good kid but nothing special, and their memories of a past life would’ve faded away by the time they hit puberty.

But instead, they were born to the Hammer family, and proceeded to be put through the wringer. 

Which is bad enough, and meant they immediately started leaning hard on everything from their past life because these people wouldn’t know good parenting if it bit them on the nose, but...then Justin’s little sister was born, which immediately kick-started every older sibling instinct they’d ever had because last time they’d been responsible for their younger sibling’s health and safety and you can probably see where this is going. 

aka yes, some of Justin’s behaviors could arguably be called trauma responses and/or coping mechanisms and it’s something I only realized as I was writing this, and no, this AU was not supposed to be this messed up

Justin’s responsibility, their willingness to deal with shitty parents and do tremendous amounts of emotional labor if it helped anyone they took under their wing? That’s no accident, that’s what happens when a soul has to be the adult, has to step up because nobody else is going to. There’s a reason Justin has so much disdain for Hank Pym and Howard Stark’s immaturity, why they have so little patience for their parents as time goes on; their mental age means the older they get, the more they’re looking at the adults around them and judging them hard.

...ahem. Sorry for getting a bit off-topic, but hey, at least now you know a bit more about what’s going on inside Justin’s head!

And yeah, if he had to bs an explanation for why he’s such a mom friend, Justin’d be more than happy to point to his little sister as an excuse. So long as they know she exists, anyway; if not, he’ll just laugh it off and try to chalk it up to one of the differences between their universes.

.

edit to remove the stuff that got through my nonexistent brain-to-mouth filter because I was averaging a not-optimal amount of sleep as I got used to my new job

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here friend and feeling better after the 5a finale (thanks for the pep talk!!!) so that means it song time and I think all things considered now is the perfect time go revisit Earth. So aside from the references to natural disasters that are part of Buck and Eddie's lives, and the appropriate "til the sirens sound I'm safe" line, this song feels like a good representation of these boys now, hiding/pushing down feelings, repressing trauma, though something new could be on the other side.

*deep sigh* I absolutely HAVE to make a masterlist post because I know we have talked about Earth. I know we have. But do you think I can find it anywhere? No. No I cannot. 🙄🙄🙄 So I’m going to apologize if anything here ends up being repetitive from when we did this one for Malex, but I’m thinking in this case I’ll be okay because this song has very different vibes for me on the Malex front vs the Buddie front. 

ANYWAY, I’m so glad you’re feeling better and the pep talk helped! It’s our first Monday of hiatus (😭😭😭) and I’m so glad the fandom is being totally normal about this. By that, I mean that everyone is absolutely unhinged and making wrench memes and yelling at Oliver to explain what TF he’s talking about and I love that for us. 

Okay, so as much as I was looking forward to going into the hiatus on a higher note and maybe having a “January White” Eddie discussion (maybe next year?), I am...a little excited about all the angsty songs we’ll get to talk about so I can’t be TOO upset. And this is a great start! Not too angsty and hopeless, which I think we’ve all had enough of for now this season, but not overly cheerful so it matches the tone of where we are now. And whooo boy if these lyrics aren’t Eddie Diaz right now (though I feel Like Buck’s turn is coming in 5x11)!

i dig ’til my shovel tells a secret, swear to the earth that i will keep it, brush off the dirt and let my change of heart occur.

sold soon after the appraisal, the hammer struck the auction table louder than anything i’ve ever heard.

Okay, so this part is really hitting me in my Eddie Begins feels. Like, Eddie has these moments of “big” trauma that reveal the secret traumas of his life (feeling like he’s always failing-his parents, Shannon, Chris, like he’s not good enough, like he can’t trust his instincts or make good decisions etc) and he has these “oh” moments that those “big” traumas dig up about how really not okay he is, but instead of dealing with these realizations, he just....shoves it all back down and locks it away, only acknowledging as much as he needs to in order to adjust his parenting and not have Chris turn out like him. (Spoiler alert, this is....not working)

fault lines tremble underneath my glass house. but I put it out of my mind long enough to call it courage to live without a lifeline. i bend the definition of faith to exonerate my blind eye. “’til the sirens sound, i’m safe.”

Oof oof oof. This is what we have been seeing since the shooting. That gunshot was the thing that triggered those fault lines and I find it....interesting, that it comes up right after Eddie has been helping Buck to process his childhood trauma. He so gently and insistently validates Buck’s feelings while just...totally ignoring that his own feelings about his own parental/abandonment/not good enough for them to stay trauma (”if that’s how you feel? How they made you feel?”) is also valid. Glass house much, Eddie? But as always, there is another emergency, another person who needs help, another homework assignment or parent teacher conference for Chris, another friend in need, so he puts it out of his mind and pretends that he’s doing the right thing and just moving on. Like turning a blind eye is the same as acknowledging and moving past something. And I am feeling some kind of way about “’til the sirens sound, i’m safe” because Eddie has been falling apart since that shot rang out and we saw him jumping back into the job but repeatedly struggling on calls. Because at this point it’s all sirens all the time and nothing is safe anymore.

meanwhile, my family’s taking shelter. the sparks send the fire down the wire, a countdown begins, until the dynamite gives in.

the echo, as wide as the equator, travels through a world of built up anger- too late to pull itself together now.

I am in my “Fight Club Arc” feelings about this verse. Like, Eddie. My dude. My guy. *siiiiiigh*. He may have been struggling before but he has kinda been falling apart since Shannon died and the tsunami hit and he nearly lost everything. I know there are...divisive feelings about the fight club arc but I don’t mind it because it makes so much sense to me. A man who has been taught his whole life that the only feelings and emotions men are allowed to show are basically fuck or fight? A man like that losing someone he loved once but that he was still angry at and never got closure? A man like that doing everything in his power to be gentle and soft and understanding with his son which he thinks means hiding those “uglier” emotions? And then “losing” the one person he might have felt safe discussing those more difficult emotions with so he could process them? Because that person is going through something too but Eddie is drowning and he doesn’t have his best friend and he feels like he’s failing his son and it’s all just so much? That is a man who is a powder keg and knows it, so he did something he thought would mitigate the collateral damage. But fun fact! You can’t fuck or fight your way out of stuff like this, and no matter how you try to hide it, those closest to you will eventually get hit with some of the blowback.

fault lines tremble underneath my glass house. but i put it out of my mind long enough to call it courage to live without a lifeline. i bend the definition of faith to exonerate my blind eye. “’til the sirens sound, i’m safe.”

I am still in awe of the Eddie reveal in 5x10 because it felt a bit like it came out of nowhere during the episode when it starting hinting he was going to leave the 118, but it didn’t. Not really. Those fault lines have been opening up bigger and bigger cracks all season and Eddie has been pushing through, and pushing through, and living without that lifeline and he is officially out of rope. (Also, not to make this about a different SaL song, Two, interesting fact! A lot of parents can mistype as enneagram type 2′s because so much of who they are is wrapped up in being a caregiver to their child, and even more so for parents of disabled children, or single parents. And Eddie is both of those with additional things heaped on top of Christopher’s little shoulders such as “absent military parent who came home injured”, and “traumatic parental separation, brief reunion, then traumatic parental death”, and “traumatic near-death experience”, and most recently “nearly another traumatic parental death”, and that’s not even counting how Chris must have felt about all the times Buck has been injured! So Eddie defaulting hard into making everything about Chris without putting his own oxygen mask on first is...not unexpected but also not something that’s going to be sustainable in the long term. I cannot wait to dig deeper into that one with you because whooo boy is that going to be A Lot for both Eddie AND Buck.) 

there was an earthquake. there was an avalanche of change. we were so afraid, we cried ourselves a hurricane. there were floods, tidal waves over us, so we folded our hands and prayed. like a domino, these wildfires grow and grow until a brand new world takes shape.

So of course this is going to make us all think of the various natural disasters we see in the show all the time, but I think it’s important to note how the unpredictability of life and those strong emotions that come with those life changing moments can feel like incontrollable natural disasters. They can feel like everything is cracking and buried and flooded and burned to the ground but out of all that chaos and change, a new world can take shape. And Eddie can’t see it now, he’s still in the middle of all the upheaval, but I think we things settle down and he’s doing his therapy (good god, get that man into therapy!), and he’s unraveling everything, he’s going to find that the old world that crumbled was making way for something new and beautiful and something without those hidden fault lines underneath. He’s going to find that he already has everything he ever wanted, but he has to actually do the work and reach out and grab it.

fault lines tremble underneath my glass house. but i put it out of my mind long enough to call it courage to live without a lifeline. i bend the definition of faith to exonerate my blind eye. “’til the sirens sound, i’m safe.”

I usually lump the last repeated chorus in with the last verse or the bridge, but I’m feeling like this chorus is going to fit Buck pretty soon when we come back from the hiatus and I cannot wait. Because as much as Eddie has been cracking all season, so has Buck. And it’s in a different way, but we are seeing the fissures in the way he tries to put in a transfer (pushing as a way of begging his family to tell him not to go), and the relationship he’s in that has him falling into old, self-destructive habits (isolating, chasing after people because he thinks he’s not good enough, repressing and hiding his true feelings etc). And OOF if “long enough to call it courage to live without a lifeline” isn’t just the most Buck line of all. Because that’s what he tries to play it off as. Courage. And people call him “reckless”, and “indestructible” and “invincible”, and Eddie, only Eddie, sees it for what it is. Expendable. And I think Eddie leaving has some interesting potentials. I know we are all chanting for a Divorce Era 2.0 storyline with upset!Buck this time because season 5 is a warped season 3 mirror and I am all on board for that, but I’m thinking of what Oliver said that he’s going to struggle but he’s going to have to “get used” to being without his partner. I’m thinking maybe we get early days without Eddie, then a flashforward, but I’m not sure if Buck is going to break before or after. Either way, I can’t wait to see it. I can’t wait for both of them to let out all the hurt and anger and sorrow and everything and then start building their new world. Together.

[han-shinsuke]

k o z u m e k e n m a

🔞🔞🌹🌹🌹

•f o r n i c a t i o n•

••••

If you ask people what it means to love and be loved, the answers you will get would be different, the luckiest ones would answer with positiveness, and those who had experienced afflictions and mishaps would probably tell you how painful and cruel love could be. Let's admit it, not all of us were made for love. And worst, there were instances where some of us were just born to carpet-bomb the person we love.

Love could build possibilities but it could also be the very source of our self-destruction.

“Aah~ there ‘yah go, Y/N~” for love, I can do things I never imagined I could. I would run miles for him. Burn bridges for him. Turn ideas into possibilities.

BE THAT ‘SOMEONE’ HE WISHES TO HAVE.

Believe me. Once you finished a day full of pretensions and lies, you’d end up asking yourself, ‘how long do you plan to be someone else's puppet?’

“Ken, do you feel good?” for love, his satisfaction shall always comes first on the line. Mine is the least important.

Kenma pulls me up from the marbled floor of his bedroom, gaze stained with lust. His fingers wiping the semen off the corner of my mouth. My body is still trembling from the activities earlier. I must keep up. He's not satisfied yet. He needed more. I shall do more for him.

Those orbs leered my face for minutes. Kenma answers, “yeah, you? still sore down there?” his gaze went down to what’s between my bite-marked thighs. He caresses my reddened knees. A familiar thin smile is plastered on his lips.

My breath got caught up in my throat when he slid a finger in my dampness before putting it inside his mouth and slurped the essence in it. The memory of what we've had done earlier flashes in my mind. Kenma splayed my legs in the camp site. I was pushed down on top of a picnic table, clothes discased. The wind was cold during sunset from the lakeside. Kenma was enjoying it. Who am I to stop him? He railed me from behind. Like how he prefers it.

“Y/N, lay down for me.” still trembling, I climbed up on his bed, ready to lay on my stomach.

For love, there's nothing I wouldn't do for him.

Kenma snakes his arms around my belly, stopping me from setting down completely.

“What it is, Ken?” My breathing’s rag from all the pounding and legs flipping.

“Lay on your back, Y/N.” I was moving very slow so he helped me out. He placed me on the bed, facing him. Kenma tied his long hair. Spreading my legs wide, I put my palms on his chest, head shaking.

“You don’t have to do this, Ken.” It’s part of the set up. He would fxck me only from behind. He would fxck me but I could never get to kiss him on the lips. He would fxck me, not LOOKING at my face for I am not the woman he dreamt of doing ‘it’ with.

He can’t have her right now but soon, he will. I’m just that sick in the head college girl who have been in love with his seatmate since freshman year.

You see, I am more like of a practice ground for him.

“I want to do it this way. Allow me.” He pins my hands above my head, nodding his head as if he's telling me it’s fine.

“Kenma~” I called out his name when his thing slid inside my sore womanhood for the nth time today.

Kenma hums in my neck, rocking me in slow pace. Our fingers intertwined. My body arching up occasionally whenever that ‘thing’ stretches my rim really good.

The bed just won't stop creaking just like how my heart won't stop from beating wild inside my chest whenever he tries to kiss me on the lips.

Don't, Kenma. Don’t break your own rules. I can't let that happen. It's a complete hypocrisy if I tell that I don't wish to be kissed by those lips. I long for it.

“D–Don’t.” My head turned to the other direction, avoiding his seeking lips. It hit my neck. He wanders his warmth there. Tongue gliding the bulging veins due to his slow but heavy pumping.

Sex is tiring. It really is. But it’s Kenma Kozume. I can still go on.

“Why won’t you let me kiss your lips, Y/N?” he stops moving, burying his weight on me. Kenma grabbed my face.

“Rule number 8. Kenma won't kiss the woman he don’t love.” for him, I won't cry. I won't cry. I lied. I was crying as I reminded him of his own rule. “I’m not her, Ken. I’m not the woman you love so don't kiss me.”

“Rule number 13. Kenma is allowed to break rule number 8.”

It was sweet. It was euphoric. A kind of kiss anyone would dream to experience.

And it tasted like sin. The way his lips glides against mine. The way his tongue tastes each corners. The way he nibbles both upper and bottom lip. Those are the ways I imagine if he would kiss me.

Those aren't ideas anymore. He had let me experienced how it feels like to be kissed by him. By the man I truly love.

“Hold on baby~ Hold on~” Kenma picked where we left off. He pulled. He dig. He buried.

And he kisses me. Repeatedly. While I am crying. While I'm holding out the sob that tries escaping my lips.

•••

5:12 AM

I woke up clean and dressed with Kenma's clothes. Last night was a chaos. I was forced to my limits. He took me in every positions he’d known. My cries and pleads were all useless. He didn't listen. He had done everything he pleased.

I sighed as I climbed down from the bed. Picking my bag and my discarded uniform from last night, another sigh rolls out from my mouth. I caught a glimpse of my reflection from the mounted mirror on the wall. I look tired and ugly. What a pity.

Kenma is probably out somewhere, thinking about his princess. He has habits of leaving me right after we had sex. I’m used to it anyway. I put face powder on my face and tied my messy curls.

This will be the end of our set up. He broken his rules. Our rules. Rule number 1. Broke any rule and it's over.

I texted Kenma and said my goodbye. He did not reply. Maybe he's smoking right now. Another habit of him, throwing his iphone at the backseat when he's puffing a cigarette.

I headed out and locked his room. I passed by on the reception area of the camping site that Kenma's family is running. I left the key to the assigned employee there.

I need to walk for ten minutes to reach the jeep terminal of the mountain road. Or maybe, walk my way home. That would be long and tiring! Or maybe, try to hitch hike.

The sun is rising and I think half an hour had passed by so easily. I saw an approaching red 4x4 from the distance. I raised my thumb and put on a smile. I looked like a lost girl on the mountain road wearing a white oversized shirt and a running short partnered with white highcut chucks. The windows are tinted so it's hard for me to tell the gender of the driver.

The car stopped in front of me. The driver's seat door opens, revealing a blonde-haired but clean cut Kenma Kozume!

He cut his hair! “where do you think you're going?” he asks, frowning.

My heart hammers in my chest, drowning me. I took a step backwards when he got out of the car.

“You got a new car.” a statement instead of an answer.

“Get in.” he try to get a hold of me but I took another steps.

“No. We’re done, Ken.” I said before walking away. I love him but I can't stay anymore. I would be just a hinder for his happiness if this shxt continue.

“Y/N! You can't leave me just like that!” Kenma yelled those. I looked back at him. He's already running slow. I panicked. I ran, too, faster than his pace.

“Fxck, Y/N!” Kenma caught up to me. He snatched my small frame. Dropping me above his shoulder.

“Ah! Put me down, Kenma!” he jogs his way back to his car, panting as he slams me into the backseat. He follows, shutting the door.

“You wish to leave me? You can't, Y/N! I am forbidding you!”

“I can't stay with you anymore, Ken. We are graduating. Remember her promise that after graduation, she would give you another chance to prove yourself to her? It's happening, you could finally have her back.”

“what if I say, I don't want her now? That I want someone else now? And she's now in front of me? Pushing me away because she thinks it is the right thing to do and it's heroic.”

“heroic? Do you think I’m doing this because I feel responsible for you? That it was a hero thing? No, Ken. You got it all wrong. I am doing this because this is what a person in love shall do. To free oneself. To not be greedy. I love myself, too, Ken. I want to be happy.”

For him, I can always try to be better. For him, I am willing to surrender. For him, I can always see love as a guiding light.

Kenma grabbed me on my jaw, inching his face closer to mine.

“Be happy? With whom? I won't let you.” he breathes on my lips, I shuddered. “I don't break rules, Y/N. You know that. But last night, I just did. For you. Because I fxcking realized that I can't stand a thought of you kissing another man. I am fxckingly and undoubtedly in love with you now!”

Kenma pressed his lips on mine. A tear escaped his eye. He pulled away. He rubbed his nose against mine. A noise traveled out from my closed lips. It was a sob. Kenma kissed me again. Tears are now brimming on his eyes.

“Idiot.” I said before pulling him for a kiss.

Kenma wrapped his arms around my body and kissed me back with intense emotions,

“let’s date for real.”

“And be the only man in my life.”

///

THANK YOU FOR READING ❤️☺️❤️

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

we are our family, even if we don’t want to be.

Titans 3.07

a bit over halfway through the season, and we still don’t have all of our main characters on the board! i love this show.

as always, typing this up as i watch. live reaction, baby! *shadowboxes*

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. i don’t think i’ve mentioned this before, but i kinda miss the old ‘dc universe’ intro. it was cool! the whole idea of it was wild and waaaaay over-ambitious, but also very very on-brand because of it.

2. this is... the third time we’ve seen dick sleeping this season? that’s a record! checking another thing off my s3 wishlist...

2.5. i guess i rag on titans all the time for its wafer-thin plotting and bad pacing, but i have to admit that this season has been a step-up from the last one in this regard. titans has very reactive rather than proactive protagonists, and a lot of the last season seemed to be: x happened, the team reacted badly, then y happened, they reacted badly, etc. this time around, it’s not a huge leap up by any means, but at least they’re doing something about it. 

i do appreciate the focus on character arcs over everything else. and when i say everything else, i mean it: arcs that started two seasons ago with no big cathartic moments, intermittent payoff and multiple relapses. big bads have ranged from interdimensional demons to superpowered assassins to whatever in the world scarecrow is, but trigon’s big weapon against the titans was to... use their worst fears against them. slade’s was to... use their fears to break them up. crane’s is to... use red hood to use their fears to break them up. even the threat of gotham’s citizens being in danger doesn’t feel real: gotham is mythologised into an entity of its own, infecting our heroes like a parasite. like. this is not to say that most other superhero media aren’t big character arcs intertwined with the main plot, but titans doesn’t even make pretend that it’s anything but.

anyway. that’s my entry #2345 to ‘give a grand unifying theory for titans’. thanks. i’ll be back with more.

3. “anger is just fear in a little black dress.” god I HATE HIM

(what’s he doing with barbara’s likeness? oh... oh god. a terrible thought just occurred to me. what if they introduce hush at the very last minute for plastic surgery shenanigans? would you put it past this show?)

3.5. jason, nooooooooo

3.75. i mean, they’re making it very clear here that scarecrow is the one in control--the one who’s always been in control--and is manipulating jason and literally poisoning him, but i hope it doesn’t end up erasing nuance or jason’s autonomy. if jason’s to reckon with the issues that brought him here, then the lines of responsibility will need to be set somewhere. 

(this applies to dick as well but more on that later, i guess.)

4. just--the phrase “40% loss of income” is so funny to me. like, gotham is full of these larger-than-life characters who are idiosyncratic beyond belief, colourful and dramatic and creating chaos just for the sake of chaos, and then there’s the regular criminals and their henchmen who just want to make a quick buck sitting down with pie charts and graphs, griping about the joker reducing their returns or debating high risk investments in, i don’t know, two-face’s next scheme.

“yyyyeeeeeaaah, my financial advisor is telling me that going all-in with a guy who literally makes decisions on the flip of a coin is probably not the greatest idea.”

4.5. god i hate smug!smarmy!scarecrow so much

4.85. as big plans to “control” gotham go, it’s pretty bog-standard. clearly scarecrow has some bigger plan in mind but it really feels like we’ve got no clear insight into him and he’s this generic creepy mystery-man who knows more than he lets on and springs a twist/cliffhanger every now and then. i liked the scenes with him and dick in 3.04 where it seemed like he was genuinely on the backfoot and things weren’t going as he predicted. for all of his faults, dick is at least familiar with scarecrow’s bullshit and knows not to give what he wants.

5. i mean... i see where dick is coming from with the “he’s not jason anymore; he’s red hood” because his immediate glaring concern is scarecrow’s drug and the damage it could potentially cause gotham? i do not doubt that it’s something batman drilled into him, too, but when you’re expected to take point on a situation where the lives of an entire city weigh down on your shoulders, it’s better to simplify things and prioritise. i’m not saying it’s great or healthy! gar is absolutely right to consider this facet of the situation. it’s just dick can’t.

6. hmmmmmmm. HMMMMMMMMMMM. 

i don’t know that i’m super fond of this iteration of oracle???? it looks like a cross between cerebro from x-men and jarvis from iron man. it’s giving me second-hand embarrassment. somebody help me.

(at least they remembered dick’s middle name is actually “john”. i like to think bruce printed D in that contract because for a while he genuinely thought richard “dick” grayson was his full name. duck duck goose, dick dick grayson, i don’t know alfred, the kid was in a circus, maybe they thought it was funny. or maybe it was a test in anger control, who knows.)

6.5 “maybe you two would like some time alone?” even AI can’t help hitting on dick grayson in this universe.

“oh mr grayson, if i only had another eye to see you better...”

6.8. on one hand, it’s a bit disconcerting that the title of ‘oracle’ has gone from barbara herself to this gigantic machine; from my impression of the comics-verse, barbara had an extensive computing and surveillance system, true, but she was very clearly the brains behind the operation. on the other hand, i’m kind of glad that the ethical boundaries that this kind of surveillance violates is a sticking point for barbara. (tho let’s be real, the nsa would kill to have this in their arsenal).

6.9. also it’s now obvious that scarecrow’s big plan is to take control of oracle itself. it’s why he had lady vic take that picture of her eyes, or why he’s meddling around with it on his computer.

6.95. if only i could ‘command sleep’ anybody overstepping their boundaries re: personal information...

7. “you can just sit back and watch as the titans destroy themselves.” i mean... he’s not wrong

8. “dick’s parents were killed by a criminal mob; he won’t work with them.” it’s wonderful that you have this insight into dick, kory, i just wish we could’ve watched some of these conversations actually happen on-screen.

8.5. i’m glad that kom’s being treated with such nuance and understanding, though it’s obvious that she definitely has a Plan of her own. (and did i entirely imagine her ability to mimic other people flawlessly at the end of s2? or is that going to come into play at some point?) i think her story has the potential to be genuinely poignant, and in a universe where being Different, either because of mental health or physical differences or whatever else, leads a straight line to Evil, it’s important to acknowledge and then emphasise that the mere fact of your existence as a Different Person doesn’t predispose you to evil. maybe your act of destroying a system that has destroyed you and not scrambling to “fit in” is only evil as defined by that system. 

8.8. “you’re trespassing, i should call the authorities, i feel unsafe.” now this is a villain lady who’s definitely aware of her privilege.

8.85. kom smirking knowingly at her sister is everything.

“oooh that’s the kory i remember”

9. conner and dick working together woo!

9.25. god i hate a villain who’s always just a step ahead, no matter what. so crane anticipated dick using oracle to track his personal communications and set him up? how did he know when exactly dick would get to do this? how long did he have that poor man tied up in that van?

(the “save me, grayson” is a nice touch, tho. send dick spiralling even further! because if there’s one thing dick will do, it’s take responsibility for every goddamn thing that goes wrong.)

9.5. ahem. i’m going to need a million gifs of conner yeeting dick across that yard, fandom, thankyouverymuch.

(i understand conner is invulnerable to explosions, but how do his clothes survive??)

9.8. oooh crane is already in oracle! i’m just sitting here laughing helplessly because they’re overpowering this goddamned guy so much. he can build a lab in arkham’s basement! he has access to lazarus puddles! he has minions working across gotham, including a fully functional chemical laboratory staffed by chemists who only answer to him! he has the crime families of gotham quailing in his very presence! he has assassins at his beck and call! he’s enough of a manipulative bastard to have red hood under his thumb! and now he has enough of a tech know-how to not only be aware of oracle, but know how to hack into it! i’m sick of exclamation marks! i’ll shut up now!

9.95. dick leaving behind that smouldering grave for a person he failed to save without taking a second to process how he feels about it and running towards his next plan to corner scarecrow: a microcosm of where his head’s at right now.

10. really hammering in the themes of this season, aren’t we. 

10.25. the interesting thing is the titans repeatedly call themselves a family this season (none more so than dick) and while that found family has helped encapsulate and put away their traumatic experiences with their ‘original’ families, it’s meant that they’ve not really dealt with those issues. and dick and gar and jason come from ‘found families’ of their own: they are twice removed, traumatised two times over. they still cling to this identity however, and because of it they’re losing each other. a family isn’t static. it’s an ever-evolving dynamic and you have to put in work constantly to keep it healthy.

10.5. anyway, that’s entry #2346. i’m here aaaalll night.

11. lookit gar the detective! half-transforming and using his powers to deduce things! what a hero! i’ve said this for a long time, but gar is the bedrock of this team, and an unsung one at that.

11.25. i’m confused about him calling this room jason’s though. it seems to me that this is dick’s room that jason later used, and one that dick’s using now. so the unmade bed isn’t really jason’s fault; dick was woken by barbara that morning, and in his hurry, he left without making his bed.

(it still confounds me that bruce didn’t find jason another bedroom in that gigantic mansion of his. you really didn’t give this kid a chance, did you?)

12. oh well. so much for the oracle.

13. ... sorry, wait. you didn’t think i wasn’t going to address the bit with dick right now, did you?

12.5. i honestly don’t think it’s very complicated: dick’s been reeling from one traumatic thing to the next, and just when it seemed like at the beginning of the season, he felt happy and secure with his team and his place in the world, bruce ups and leaves gotham to him, specifically naming him a successor and calling him a ‘better batman’. he’s lost garth and jericho and donna and jason and now hank and dawn. he’s not even sure where rachel is or what she’s doing. after being told that batman was a psychopath for moulding him into a weapon, he’s also been told that his failure to be a ‘better batman’ lead to further disaster. of course he’s going to get batman-goggles. of course he’s going to be a prick. 

12.8. i don’t know what to say. i feel his frustration acutely. i don’t think he should’ve said what he said to barbara (can people stop pushing her around this season????) but that pressure to step in where your parent fails? to clean up their messes and try to think like them? to fall into habits drilled into you when you developed them as coping mechanisms growing up? I FEEL THAT. 

every step he’s taking he’s putting 110% of himself in it and scarecrow’s still playing mindgames with all of them: i absolutely feel his desperation to take control of that game and turn it on scarecrow, no matter what it takes.

and he did apologise almost immediately, and finally--finally--actually works with barbara. 

12.9. again, not excusing him! but i get it. and i think that’s a sign of great character writing.

“did you know i just reminded emmram of all of her daddy issues? what the fuck????”

12.95. i love that dick&barbara, kory&kom, and gar are all approaching solving this mystery from different angles, each as valid as the other. also, conner is there as... emergency bomb defuser man?

13. it’s like all fancy rich people in fancy rich houses do is pour fancy rich alcohol into fancy rich glasses on pristine, untouched tabletops. i wonder what it’s like to live like that.

13.25. I KNEW IT! poor michael. it was nice knowing you.

13.5. man, kory is contending with a lot of issues that she’s successfully bottled up and compartmentalised until now. the cold reality that a child can seek out their parents as refuge and they can view the child as a piece to be moved in a greater game (never out of cruelty, though, never, and somehow that makes it worse), that truth of blackfire’s treatment on tamaran because she’s different, and her own culpability in what happened. she exchanged one family for another, after all, and left that family to die and her sister to suffer. like dick, like gar, kory’s being forced to reckon with what the titans are meant to be, the larger implications of creating their found family in their own space.

14. it’s probably because it’s one in the morning and i’ve had two glasses of wine but i did not follow that bit of exposition at all and victor freeze??? what? 

anyway. look at them solving things! together! go team!

“you made a deal with the mob?” oh the sense of betrayal on his face! fuck off, dick, your issues aren’t kory’s. 

15. conner is really sweet and a bit of an awestruck crush on kom is to be expected. especially after that power rangers-esque transformation (i say this as a former huge power rangers fangirl. i’ve seen every series until 2007 including the original japanese versions and written fanfic for all of them. so i love a cool costume transformation, is what i’m saying.)

also?

FUCK YEAH

16. i love the gotham crime families just chillin’ around eating ice cream. I LOVE THEM

16.5. that was a fun fight sequence, if marred slightly by that bit of awkward flirting between conner and kom. i wonder if she’s really planning to use him in a larger scheme to get kory back to tamaran, or maybe something else. 

16.75. so i’m assuming that scarecrow has jason either so paralysed by fear that he can barely move, or jason’s withdrawing from the drug that he’s been sucking in every few minutes. 

17. it’s nice to see them chill after a successful mission! and it can be awkward, but conner’s crush on kom and him striving to impress her is also, well, uh... cute.

17.5. i guess the dick/barbara scene was inevitable, especially given the... unresolved nature of their relationship in the flashbacks? and they’ve been through a rollercoaster together this episode, discovering and then destroying an incredible tool within a matter of hours, re-discovering just how well they work together as a team. dick’s swimming in the nostalgia. i don’t expect it to last as a long-term relationship, but i totally get why this is happening now. and hey, they’re cute!

i have a weeeirrrrd feeling that kory is going to leave to tamaran at the end of the season and that dick and kory will rekindle--or rather realise--their relationship just before that. it’s going to be devastating and beautiful and painful and i will be writing essays about it which would be me just wailing into the screen.

18. gar found molly!!!!!!! MOLLY’S BACK! \o/ gar is the BEST

19. that was a fun episode! i love this silly show, even if it does destroy me sometimes <3

[littlesparklight]

Pleisthenides/Atreides

What's in a name? (Warning for child abuse and domestic violence.)

***

Agamemnon's favourite place in the palace is his mother's weaving room. It's a sunny, warm place nearly the whole year; during winter, with rain and cold and snow, sometimes, it's still warm and cozy, one of the best places to be. Not that Agamemnon is supposed to be in here; as his father has repeatedly told him, he's too old for women's stuff, to listen to them talk and watch them weave and spin, and, as little as he wants to agree with his father, he's not wrong, either. But it's with his mother, the servants, and the nurses, that Menelaos most often is, still, since he's only two, and while he could take him elsewhere to play - if that's what it should be called - Menelaos gets fussy when he can't see either his nurse or their mother. Menelaos gets fussy whenever Agamemnon leaves, too, and maybe he shouldn't care about that, but he does.

As long as his father doesn't know he's here, and Agamemnon has gotten very good at going here even when he shouldn't and not be noticed to be doing so, it's fine. And even if it wasn't, with Menelaos' rotund little body between his legs, flailing a toy soldier around and giggling, Agamemnon will take whatever comes next, if Father really does find out he's here. For now, he's holding a wooden chariot team, the harness and reins made up of actual leather, a charioteer and a fully armed soldier beside him in the chariot, and smashing it together with Menelaos' toy.

"No!" Menelaos yells, a threatening wobble already in his voice as he yanks his hand back, and Agamemnon sighs, rolling his eyes. Boops their toys together more gently this time, and Menelaos lets his own fall over with a dramatic, high-pitched warble that doesn't sound the least like a rattling death-groan, at least in Agamemnon's opinion. Whatever makes him happy, though.

Menelaos has the biggest, cutest smile, and Agamemnon lives for seeing it. Or, more correctly, being the cause of it. For all that Menelaos gets fussy, all the way down to crying, if they crash their toys together too hard, he doesn't mind playing out the supposed deaths that follows the booping. It's ridiculous - they're just toys, they don't take any real damage from being slammed together, and if they do more can be made or one can be repaired. Menelaos big, brown eyes filling with tears is, frankly, one of, if not the, worst experiences of Agamemnon's life so far, and if being careful, even when Menelaos flails the toys around like mad, is the price to pay to keep a smile on his face, then it's not a hardship.

The patter of rain against the shutters causes a soft, background rattle, accompanied by the occasional hiss from the braziers around the room that keep it as cozily warm as later in the year, before the heat becomes punishing. It's nice, in here. The women's murmuring voices is another background noise, gentle counterpoint to Menelaos' higher, sharper cries of excitement. When they're playing is really the only time Menelaos is loud, too. He's quiet, otherwise, all big, soft brown eyes and small smiles, with a reddish cast to his blond hair that brings to mind the fire and glowing coals in the braziers, that make it different from both their parents' hair. Agamemnon is secretly terribly pleased that, for all that his hair is darker and more similar to his father's, there's a reddish cast to his, too, easier to see when both he and Menelaos are standing in sunlight.

"Aga! Here!"

Agamemnon looks down and smirks. Menelaos is holding up one of the toy soldiers from the pile between his pudgy legs, each of them having been duly booped with Agamemnon's chariot team and discarded.

"Do you want the chariot?"

There's more than one, but the other ones are in the basket across the room, and while Menelaos can just go get any of them from there, usually he never does, if Agamemnon already has one in hand. He never just demands whatever toy Agamemnon has that he wants, however. They always have to swap.

"Can I?"

"Su---"

"Wife!"

Through the open door, Atreus' bellow is still distant, but everyone has flinched to a stop. One of the maidservants hisses as she's stabbed herself with a needle, another one hushes her. Agamemnon drops the chariot and hugs Menelaos to himself, reluctantly ready to get to his feet and leave before he realizes it wasn't him his father was shouting for. His mother, though, lunges away from the loom, all the layers of her skirts rippling in her haste as she dashes over and snatches Menelaos from his arms.

"Agamemnon, Hippia, come with me - shh, Menelaos, quiet! - barricade the door after we've left!" Mother hisses, gesturing to them, and Agamemnon was already getting to his feet, now he just scrambles faster, following Hippia with Anaxibia in her arms, dashing past her so he can catch up with his mother. He almost grabs her skirts since she's using both arms for a squirming, teary-eyed Menelaos, but catches himself. He's too old for that.

"Aerope!"

Agamemnon jumps, almost stumbling over his feet. He's never heard his father sound like that before. Not even when he's really angry at him and a yank on his ear or a slap follows.

"Mama---"

"Shh, it's all right, Agamemnon."

His mother smiles down at him, but her eyes, usually so bright and lovely and the exact same colour of Menelaos' eyes, are dark right now. It's not all right. Whatever is wrong, is really wrong. The shadows as soon as they're out of his mother's rooms are wrong too. Too long, too dark, even with shutters pulled and the sky dark with rain beyond. It's like the ceiling is too low to the floor.

They run.

Agamemnon knows the palace like the back of his hand, having lived here all his life - all eight years of it - but the corridors are long and winding, the cracks and unevenness he could swear he knew and knew to avoid without looking any more keeps tripping him up, and the air is too thick to breathe. His heart is in his mouth, taking up his whole chest, and Agamemnon curses himself when he almost stumbles again.

"My lady---" Hippia gasps, and while Agamemnon is glad he's not the only one who's tired, it makes him angrier at himself. It's okay for the women to be, but he shouldn't!

"I know, I know," Aerope huffs, and Agamemnon looks up at his mother in spite of how much he's been stumbling as another roar echoes down the corridor behind them. Father's been yelling a lot, about mother and his brother. Agamemnon isn't sure what it means, but for every echoing syllable his gut contracts. It's cold. His mother's face is a mask of flinching regret as she looks between them, then out a half-shuttered window into the dark, early spring afternoon, with rain pouring down like someone's upended a bucket. She shakes her head, her expression briefly twisting into something full of bared teeth. "In here. Barricade the door!"

They veer off, piling inside an empty guest room. There's a couch in there that he helps his mother turn over and wedge in place, but it looks terribly flimsy despite how heavy it was to lift. Menelaos is clinging to his tunic - they almost hit him, struggling the couch into place, but as soon as Aerope put him down he'd come over to latch onto Agamemnon, and it weirdly helps against the chilly knot in his stomach. As soon as the bed is in place, Agamemnon turns around and hugs Menelaos to himself, lifting him up as much as he's able - the brief ride off the ground usually gets a giggle from Menelaos, but now he just clutches more tightly at him and sniffles.

"Come on, Menelaos, don't cry. You're not a baby, are you?" He jostles his little brother, Menelaos pouting at him and only making his pudgy cheeks all the more pudgy. He is a baby. The cutest, best baby, who's been around only for two years since a couple months ago.

"Agamemnon, come here. Both of you, come," Aerope urges, then flinches as the door rattles, then shakes. The whole room seems to tremble with how the door's being hammered.

Agamemnon drags himself and Menelaos over, their mother slinging her arms around them. On the other side of the room, Hippia is trying to soothe a crying Anaxibia, and Aerope looks up, pale-faced and stiff, but while Agamemnon can feel her sort of gesture with the hand she has around him, she doesn't get up. Leans over him and Menelaos and hugs them, with another bared-teeth smile as the door creaks ominously.

"Aerope! Come out now and I might change my mind!"

Change his mind for what? Agamemnon hugs Menelaos tighter, until his little brother whines. He lets up slightly and huddles closer to his mother, completely forgetting his decision that he's too old.

"Mama, what's going on? Why is Father so angry?"

"Listen to me, Agamemnon," Aerope says, a tremble in her voice but the words firm, "that man out there is not your father. Do you understand? Your father was a gentle, kind man, who was cursed with being born to the monster out there. That man, my husband, was your father. Atreus didn't like that his son was born weak and was sick most of the time, so he shut Pleisthenes up---"

"The man in the room!" Agamemnon gasps, briefly distracted from his mother's aching tension, the wild, furious edge to her words, for the mystery he had plain forgotten about now being solved. His mother laughs, a wavering little sound. Touches the back of his head, gently tugging on the curls there.

"Yes, that was Pleisthenes. Your father. Do you hear me, Agamemnon? That man, the kind, sick man who worried about me, about you, too, and Menelaos, even if he never really got to see you, hold you, is your father. Not the monster out there who's been raising you. Don't listen to Atreus, Agamemnon. Never listen to Atreus, do you hear me? I want you to pro---"

The door gives, with a thunderous, creaking protest, bronze gleaming through the cracks in the wood. Hippia shrieks and Aerope pushes them away, so hard Agamemnon falls on his butt, as three armed guards shove their way inside and Atreus storms in after them, hauling Aerope to her feet. The slap rings through the small room, and Aerope jerks; Agamemnon is sure that if his father hadn't been holding her, she would've fallen to the floor.

"Shameless bitch! How dare you betray me when I've taken care of you since you came to Mycenae!"

There's blood on the floor, spat there by Aerope before she straightens up, and Agamemnon's stomach curdles for the dark-eyed fury in his father's face, that hasn't lessened in the least. He staggers to his feet, pushing Menelaos back to sit despite his protests, going more and more high-pitched.

"My body isn't the only thing that needs taken care of, but if your rough-handed handling of that, of your grandchildren, and how you kept your own son locked up, should be proof for how you handle hearts, Atreus, you're a terrible caret---"

The crack is more than flesh on flesh, Aerope jerking like a vase toppling over from a table, shattering on the floor, and Agamemnon dashes around the men, launching himself at his father's leg. It's the only thing he can reach.

"Leave her alone! She-hk!"

Whether it's his mother or Menelaos, or both, who scream his name when his father slaps him down into the floor, is hard to say. Agamemnon tries not to hiccup, tries not to cry, but it hurts, more than any slap his father - grandfather? - has ever given him before, and the anger carved into his face is dark like the shadows in the corridors had been, laying twisted in the unnaturally deep wrinkles on his face. Cold, not hot.

"Listen to me, Agamemnon," Atreus snaps, jerking Aerope close as he turns around, though he keeps his eyes on his grandson as he looks over his shoulder, pinning him to the ground as surely as a spear through the gut would have. "Women will turn on you no matter the kindness you show them; they are ruled by lust and their weak minds, knowing not what man is the most steady and can offer them the most protection. If they think another man can give them more wealth and comfort, they will abandon you in a heartbeat and open their bed for someone else. And stop crying. You're not a child."

Menelaos' warm little body launching itself into Agamemnon's doesn't help his aching gut at all, but Agamemnon hugs his crying little brother to himself anyway, clutching him close in the fear that his father - is that who he is? - or one of the other men will take him like Atreus is hauling Aerope off. No one does. They're left in that room for hours, and when they're finally allowed out, Aerope is nowhere to be seen. Menelaos is still crying, heaving sobs into Agamemnon's shoulder. His arms hurt from holding Menelaos up, but he's not going to let go. Not even when Menelaos' nurse come creeping down the corridor, wild- and wide-eyed as she glances to Hippia, then smiles faintly at Agamemnon and holds her hands out.

"No! He's fine where he is! And where is Mother?" Agamemnon snaps, and this time when he hugs Menelaos to himself, too tight, there's nary a peep aside from another hiccuping sob from his little brother, little fists tightening in his tunic in response. Agamemnon glares at the nurse until she wavers, then up at Atreus, behind her.

"You should have stopped his crying long before now, Agamemnon. He's too soft," Atreus says, and Agamemnon grimaces.

Menelaos is a baby! What does it matter if he's crying? He doesn't dare say anything, however.

"You don't keep a dog that has bitten you, Agamemnon," Atreus continues, voice cold, eyes colder. "Take your brother to the nursery and go to your own room."

He doesn't dare do anything else, no matter how little he wants to let go of Menelaos when they reach the nursery, no matter how much Menelaos screams for him, his nurse uselessly trying to soothe him. He'll come back later, when Atreus isn't looking, but for now, his stomach still aching, Agamemnon goes to his room.

He doesn't forget what happens. Certainly can't be upset when, fifteen years later, Aegisthus murders their father in his sleep. He's less happy when their uncle tosses him and Menelaos out of Mycenae, Aegisthus not saying a word in their defense and Agamemnon glares at him as they're forced out of the megaron. Wishes, for the first time, to wring his adoptive little brother's neck. Realizes, too, as they stand there, not even a worn-out donkey to their name and the echo of Anaxibia's protesting cry when she was shoved back to her own rooms (they'd been Aerope's, once) in his ears, that even if Atreus isn't actually their father, who is going to listen to them if he introduces them as sons of Pleisthenes? No one knows who that is.

"Agamemnon?" Menelaos, seventeen and by now more broad-shouldered than his older brother, but wide-eyed and with a shocked softness still clinging to his expression, looks up at him.

Even now, Menelaos isn't angry, just upset. He's gentle. It reminds Agamemnon of what their mother said about Pleisthenes, and can only be glad at the moment that the only thing he seems to have inherited from their father is the red from his hair. Right now, they can't afford to be kind, but he doesn't want to berate his brother. He doesn't ever, but especially not now. He'll just have to make sure there's no need to push Menelaos anywhere it isn't needed. Atreus is, finally, out of the picture, unable to so much as shoot a disapproving stare at Menelaos, but this situation still requires Agamemnon to be the older brother. Well, that's fine. He never planned to be anything else.

"What do we do?" Menelaos continues softly, swallowing heavily.

Agamemnon presses his lips thin and turns himself and Menelaos around.

"We walk."

Surely there will be one city in the Peloponnese that will shelter them, sons of Atreus and wrongfully thrown out of their home, until they might oust their uncle.

(As you might have noticed, this uses the alternate genealogy that has Agamemnon and Menelaos as sons of Pleisthenes, son of Atreus.)