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sixhours · 4 months

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Chapter 3 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence

Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

May 2024 Jackson, Wyoming

“Help!”

You’ve been in Jackson for three weeks. It’s late, not quite 3 a.m., and you’re dozing in your office when you hear a voice from the lobby. A man bursts through the swinging doors into the back of the clinic holding a young girl in his arms, frantically looking around.

The night nurse, Shiela, is coming down the hall to see to the commotion, but you wave her away.

“I’ve got it. Right here,” you tell the man, gesturing to the nearest exam room.

“She passed out,” he says, desperation threaded through a gravelly Texas baritone as he lays the girl down in a hospital bed. “She’s been sick.”

“You the father?” you ask, checking the pulse point at the girl’s wrist where her heartbeat flutters. Her skin is feverish, eyes ringed with dark circles, lips cracked. You’d put her at 12 or 13, but she’s small, thin.

“I’m, uh–yeah,” the man says. “She started, uh, throwin’ up–”

“Any allergies?”

He shakes his head. “I dunno–”

“When did this start?”

“Three, four days ago, maybe. It was just a cough and a fever, she stayed home from school–”

“Has she been able to keep liquids down?”

“Not since last night.”

“She’s probably dehydrated,” you start to pull up the girl’s sleeve. “I’m going to place an IV so we can get some fluids–”

You stop short. The bite scar on the girl’s forearm is ugly and swollen, a telltale cordyceps rash snaking its way to the crook of her elbow.

Oh, no.

Your head snaps up to meet the man’s eyes, and it takes him a moment to register what you’ve seen. You’re reaching for the cordyceps monitor in the cabinet, the little device that will confirm the presence of infection, when he levels a handgun at your face.

“Don’t.”

You let out a soft huff, hands slowly moving up.

“She’s infected,” you say. “And you can’t have a gun in here. How did you–”

“She’s not.”

“The bite–”

“It’s a burn scar,” he growls, reaching over to tug at the sleeve of the girl’s shirt, covering the evidence. “She’s not infected. Use the other arm.”

“Joel?” the girl stirs, and the gun falters, his gaze immediately on his daughter. You reach for the detector again.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growls, his attention snapping back to you.

“Joel,” the girl’s voice is more insistent now as she tries to sit up. “Joel, you asshole–”

His eyes dart between you and the girl. “Use. The other. Arm,” he bites out.

You swallow hard, weighing your options. You think you could overpower him; he looks strong, but there’s a coldness in his eyes that tells you he’s not fully there . And you don’t want to be stuck in this tiny exam room when the girl inevitably turns…

“Fine,” you snap. “Fine. I’ll use the other arm.”

He nods once, not lowering the gun.

You back away, keeping your eyes trained on him as you make a show of pulling supplies from the cabinets, taking your time, trying to figure out how to proceed in a way that won’t get you shot or bitten. You pull up the girl’s other sleeve with shaking fingers and the man–Joel–seems to relax a fraction.

“What’s your name, kid?” you ask.

She looks at Joel as though asking for permission, then down at her arm as you insert the IV, watching with fascination as the needle penetrates the skin.

“S’Ellie,” she says, coughing roughly.

“Hi, Ellie,” you say, forcing a smile through gritted teeth. “I’m going to get this saline drip set up, I’m going to take your temperature, then I’m going to take a sample of your blood. And hopefully, your dad here won’t shoot me.”

The girl shakes her head. “S’like this with everyone.”

Joel’s jaw twitches and he shoots a glare at the girl, exasperation and worry in the deep-set lines of his forehead.

“How old are you, Ellie?”

“Fifteen.”

“Any recent injuries? Blood loss? Open up,” you say, inserting the end of a mercury thermometer. “Hold that under your tongue.”

The girl shakes her head, mumbling around the glass stick in her mouth. “M’ just tired.”

“That’s fine,” you say. “You can lay back, close your eyes. I’m almost done.”

Joel’s eyes are trained on you, watching your every move as you continue examining the girl, checking her lymph nodes, her breathing, asking her to swallow, pricking her finger to get a blood sample. You avoid her right arm, on high alert for any sudden movements, the twitching that signals the onset of infection, but Ellie remains still and listless. Joel is still holding the gun, but at least it’s no longer pointed at your head.

“You said this started last night?”

He gives a single tense nod.

“She’s in school, right?”

“Yeah…so?”

“Well, provided you’re telling the truth, and that scar isn’t what it looks like,” you say, biting out the words through gritted teeth, “I think she has the flu.”

Joel blinks. “The flu?”

“It’s early in the season, but it's going around. And the kids are especially good at spreading it.”

Joel’s shoulders sag; he finally lowers the gun to his side.

“This isn’t something to mess with,” you continue, moving to the sink, snapping off your gloves in irritation. “It’s not like before when we had vaccines. People die from the flu. Especially the most vulnerable, and she’s underweight, possibly anemic. I’d like to keep her overnight–”

“No,” he cuts you off. “No, she stays with me.”

“You can stay, too,” you say slowly, watching the panic in his face. He’s gone somewhere else in his mind, shadows moving behind his eyes. “But I want to get her hydrated and make sure this doesn’t progress to a secondary infection like pneumonia.”

He looks to Ellie, then to you, then back to Ellie. You watch his Adam’s apple bob under the scruff of his beard.

“Alright,” he says finally. “Fine. She can stay.”

You nod, turning to leave. “I’m going to run this to the lab, then I’ll have a nurse come in with–”

His hand is on your arm, gripping it, wheeling you around. “You’re not going to tell anyone…about the scar,” he says through gritted teeth. “Got that?”

You exhale sharply, narrowly resisting the urge to haul off and punch him. “Let go of me.”

“Say it,” he says.

“I’m not…going to tell…anyone,” you repeat, enunciating as though to a small child. Then, as a petulant afterthought: “But put the gun away, for god’s sake. You’ll scare my staff.”

He considers you, his grip loosening, receding. He tucks the gun into the back of his jeans.

“Alright. Go.”

~*~

“I’ve got a live one in exam room two. Think it’s the flu again. I just need last names–Joel and Ellie?”

“That’s the Millers,” Shiela says.

“Right, right. She’s staying the night, I want to keep an eye on her.” You swallow, turning away, hoping she doesn’t see the tremor in your hands. “Look, Shel, why don’t you go home? It’s not busy, I can take the rest of the night shift.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I have the walkie if I run into trouble. Go home,” you say, smiling in a way you hope is convincing enough. It must be, because she shrugs and packs up her bag.

When Shiela is gone, you lock the clinic’s front and rear entrances so no one else can get in. Then you retreat to your office, intent on finding the girl’s medical records, but there’s no Ellie Miller in the filing cabinet. On a hunch, you sift through the rest of the folders by first name and find the only Ellie in town–an Ellie Williams.

After a considered pause, you pull Joel Miller’s file, too.

You take them to your desk and spread them in front of you, all the while listening for sounds from down the hall.

Ellie Williams. 14 female. DOB: ??/??/2009. Intake: 12/16/2023.

Joel Miller. 56 male. DOB: 9/26/1967. Intake: 12/16/2023.

They came in the same day, so you’ve got the right kid. The forms are signed by Maria Miller, who you know is on the Jackson council.

A sister, maybe?

But there’s no other data, no medical history. Nothing helpful.

You toss the folders on your desk and head to the supply closet to grab blankets, Tylenol, and a paper cup of water. You hesitate over the surgical supplies, then tuck a scalpel in your pocket. It’s no match for a gun, but if the girl turns while you’re tending to her, you might stand a chance at making it out alive if you have a weapon.

Joel is pacing when you return. He looks at you nervously as you place the blankets at the foot of the bed, and the Tylenol on the counter.

“I sent the night nurse home,” you say quietly. “No one will be in until six.”

This seems to relax him a bit, enough that he finally takes a seat, deflating into the chair next to Ellie’s bed. His hands are shaking.

Ellie wakes up enough to swallow the Tylenol with a sip of water, then rolls over and curls on her side with a soft groan and a raspy cough. Joel is so intent on watching his daughter that he barely acknowledges you when you slip out of the room.

You sit stiff and upright on the cot in your office, fingering the scalpel in your pocket and waiting for the inevitable sound of infection from across the hall.

It doesn’t come.

~*~

They’re sleeping when you peek in on them over the next few hours. Joel’s lanky body is twisted awkwardly in the chair, jacket over his shoulders, his head resting on the bed at her side. Her right hand curls loosely in his hair.

By morning, the girl’s fever has broken, her breathing deep and even. Joel remains asleep at her side, snoring lightly.

You pause in the doorway, wondering if you should try to check the girl’s arm for signs of progression, but decide against it; Joel’s eyes flutter open as you reach to take her pulse. Your hand stops in mid-air, hovering over her wrist, half expecting him to reach for his gun, but he only blinks and raises his head, swiping a broad palm across his scruffy face.

“Just checking in,” you murmur. Ellie’s heartbeat is strong under your fingers, her lungs sound clearer. “She looks better.”

He takes this in, nods.

“I think you can go home when she wakes up,” you say, keeping your voice low. “We’ll give her another dose of Tylenol to keep the fever down, and you both need to isolate for at least a week…that means you, her, and anyone else in your household.”

“S’just us,” he says flatly.

“Okay. The staff will let the cafeteria know you’ll need meals delivered for a bit. If you start to feel sick–”

“I’m fine.”

You refrain from rolling your eyes. “Fine. But if you do feel sick and you have to go out, wear one of these,” you say, pulling two white face masks from your pocket.

“K,” he says, eyes drifting back to Ellie’s sleeping form. When he speaks, his voice is frayed. “So she’s gonna be alright? No pneumonia?”

You shake your head, crossing your arms. “Her lungs sound clear, but if the cough gets worse, bring her back in right away. And feed her. She’s borderline anemic. She needs to eat.”

He scowls, muttering at the floor. “She eats plenty.”

You fold your arms across your chest. “It’s not uncommon for kids her age to struggle with disordered–”

“She’s fine,” he cuts you off. “I’ll make sure she eats. Anything else?”

His eyes bore into yours like a challenge, a threat.

“If she gets sick, and I mean… sick ,” you say in a low voice, emphasizing the word until it’s clear you’re not talking about the flu. “I will make sure every single council member knows who brought it in. Understand?”

He considers you for a moment, then nods slowly. “I heard you.”

“Good,” you say, clipped. “One of the nurses can check you out when you’re ready. Maybe don’t hold them at gunpoint.”

#the last of us hbo #the last of us #fanfic #joel miller x reader #ellie williams #joel miller x you

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docheros · 3 months

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Forget me not

a full fleshed out jse fanfic from tae??? in our holy year 2024???? it's more likely than you think

anyways i tag (and blame /j) @the-pastel-kitsune for this. jasper your brain

janti are like. the original tragic yaoi

likes and comments appreciated!

========================

Waking up from a much too quiet nightmare, a silente scare. As if, after hours and hours of falling, finally feeling the real weight of gravity and, one second before brutally hitting the floor, feeling your body against the softness of the mattress. That was the feeling Jack felt when he woke up.

How much time had passed? One day? Two? One week? Months? Years?

Maybe, enough for a change.

He tried to open his eyes, they had been closed for a long time. The sudden flash blinded him, but not as much as his drifting memories, trying to swim back to his mind.

He got used to the flash and focused the image better in his vision; the ceiling in his room was still intact. With tense movements, he looked to one side, looked the other, concentrated to listen to something. Nothing. No “get better soon” cards, no familiar voices downstairs.

With some difficulty, he tried to get up. It took about 20 minutes to do this: first, he had to send the message to the rest of the body. Then, get his arms and legs used to movements again (it probably wasn't possible to do it this soon, but it's not like his dizzy mind could even rationalize it). He didn't even risk to remove the IV without the help of a professional, he had already lost tons of blood. He grabbed the IV and walked with shaky steps towards the door. He could already imagine the scolds that Henrik would give him, and already formulated mischievous responses, full of giggles, just like the old days. He opened the door.

And came face to face with a wide hallway, infinite on both sides. Was he still dreaming?

Apprehensive to actually leave the room, he held on to the edge of the door and tried to find some sign of life on the right side. Not long after, he heard someone calling him on the left side.

— Jack?

A familiar voice he had never heard before. He turned to look at who called him, finding a... man.

It was like as if he was looking at a broken mirror, all the similarities between them accentuated their differences: the man was a little taller, more curved, bearder and hairier. His eyes were black like an endless abyss, empty and deep. But also, full of emotion. Pure, wild emotion. Uncontrollable.

And his skin was red like blood, removing any shred of normality he might have had. Like someone Jack knew for a long time.

Some habits never change.

He smiled.

— Anti?

The being, head down, looked him up and down: his IV, his unmistakable friendly expression. The same man.

— Yeah... it's me.

His voice was now deep, firm, sure of himself and his purpose, different from the high-pitched and brittle voice he was used to.

— You’re different.

— And you remain the same.

— Where are the others? — he looked around — where are we?

Anti didn't answer. He lowered hie shoulders and looked down at the floor, as if resenting his very existence. Jack slowly opened his mouth.

— ...oh.

And the silence, the deafening silence. Jack turned back into the room, inviting his friend to enter as well.

— So — he sat on the bed — How long has it been?

— About six years. But for you, seven. You’re stuck in 2017.

— Do they still remember me?

— Henrik tries at all costs, but he’s slowly forgetting. Chase only has a vague memory. Jameson and Jackie... — he sighed — it's as if you never existed. The one that remembers most is Marvin, but I doubt it’ll be for long.

— Will I be completely forgotten, then?

— Not by everyone — he raised his face, smiling without showing his teeth — I won’t forget you. I'm your community, remember?

Jack laughed, turning his attention to the large window on the central wall of the room. The moon shone dimly.

— What happens if I climb out the window?

— Nothing much — he shrugged — that’s like cardboard.

— Anti. Will I die?

The answer took a few seconds to come out of Anti's dry mouth.

— I can't tell you. But... I hope not.

— Update me on what happened — he leaned against the wall, hugging his legs — I'm curious about the reason for this drastic change in appearance.

Anti told him about everything: from the kickoff that was the “CHASE” video to the “Void Silver” and “The somewhat incredible JackieBoy Man” comics.

— Wow... So I really missed a lot — Jack chuckled, still digesting I.R.I.S — I never thought it’d reach this level.

— And looks like there will be videogames, it's pretty crazy — he smiled — sometimes I still feel a little unqualified to be this Super Badass Villain. I mean, until a while ago, I was still...

— A boy? — he smiled fondly — Yeah, me too. I’d love to be able to follow the rest of your journey.

Anti swallowed hard, sitting down next to him.

— I'll miss you and annoying you — He looked at him, but his gaze dropped to his lips — I annoy Chase, but... it's not the same thing. It's more serious.

Jack held Anti's hand in his, stroking the back. Where he pressed, it turned green.

— I'll miss you annoying me too. Good times.

And they faced each other, for the first time in years. And they really did it, observing and studying the other's behavior. Jack admired those deep, dark eyes; entered them, there discovered a home. He found a boy behind that frightening and powerful shell, a boy with a mischievous smirk, excessive jealousy and a slit throat. His Anti. Waiting for him, with a wide smile and a decapitated teddy bear.

And in Jack's shiny blue eyes, Anti found a mature, accomplished man, satisfied with what he had achieved. They reminded him of Seán.

The creature just like the creator.

And that scared him.

— Jack. I need to tell you something. I... — he swallowed hard — I love you. I've always loved you.

— Do you love me as my community — he brushed back some dark hair from his red forehead — or as AntiSepticEye?

— As AntiSepticEye — he brought his pale hand to his mouth, leaving a kiss — as your creation, your alter ego. Your other half.

— The half that completes me — he smiled — Funny. You were here from the beginning. And it's here at the end too.

— I promise I’ll come visit you. And I'll bring gifts.

— Anti, just grant me one wish: give me a kiss.

There was no way to deny a request like that; not when it was something Anti had desired too, since he first laid eyes on Jack. From the moment he realized they were antagonistic forces, that they could never meet.

But now, for the first time, they could. For the first and last.

And he kissed him, two semi-identical faces united in a disharmonious tune. Two parallel lines intersecting. He kissed him as if his very life depended on it, exploring every corner of that mouth, so similar to his. He kissed him with a bitter and slightly salty taste.

He kissed him.

— Anti — Jack caressed his cheeks, wet with hot tears — I love you. I love you so much. I'm so very proud of what you have achieved. Who would have thought that a kid’s play would turn into the main villain of a complete story?

Anti laughed through tears, an ugly laugh.

— I promise I won't forget you. Never.

— You will end up forgetting — he kissed his forehead — and I'll be the happiest man in the world for having loved you.

#i'm writing!!#c!jack #anti #septicglitch

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serotoninny · 1 year

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Hey- hi. My sister and I grew up playing Super Paper Mario constantly. I would absolutely love to hear any and all thoughts you would like to share pls and thank you!!

HELLO! HELLO HI!

wanted to start off by saying Holy Shit!! spm was a video game me and my sister also played growing up!! we never beat it back then but recently she came home and got me hooked on it again and we played it all the way thru. we also did fun little voices for each character I got to be dimentio so that was very fun ^__^ i think Objectively its not a very hard game (which is why we were able to beat it LMAO) but what it lacks there it makes up for in STORY and super strong characters and i adore it so

IF ANYONE!! ANYONE wants to respond to anything ive said in this word soup of a post PLEASE DO!!! in the tags in the comments i just like seeing ppl talk abt whatever the hell about spm. Head canons Theories You name it

this is . a little scattered around. u do not have to read all of this but thank you for giving me an excuse to talk abt spm VVV

first of all themes of love being the answer make me wanna bawl my eyes out and i gotta be real i did tear up at the end of the game when blumiere and timpani have bounding through time ost playing and then walk out of frame. CHEFS KISS. lovely. i like how each chapter the gang goes thru has its own unique little set of townspeople and even thru little bits of dialogue u are left wanting to defeat the chaos heart even more because you dont want any of them to die YK? HEAVENS TO BETSY! THE DIALOGUE OPTIONS FOR RIGHT BEFORE CHAPTER 8 FOR ALL THE PEOPLE IN FLIP/FLOPSIDE?? SHIT HURTED. npc reactions to all the shit going on were so good

one thing i WISH happened tho was. mario and luigi Sibling Love (i mean this platonically i want to specify Just in case there are any weirdos out there) Helps Save The World. i get the whole count bleck mansion part where everyone started sacrificing themselves to save the others which means they care for one another n whatnot which is good great and fantastic However i think it wouldve been COOL to see the whole gang esp the two opposing forces of Mario (prophesized hero color red) and luigi (prophesized Man In Green to contain the chaos heart and destroy the world) contribute to the reformation of the pure heart like some sorta balance between light n dark . BUT ITS FINE i love the game anyway because its probably the longest bowser luigi mario and peach have ever been on the same team

and completely unrelated, the entire premise of luigi being the harbinger of a great world ender is ALWAYS a joy. a fun little recurring gag if you will. like i cant believe this is not the only time he was the vessel for a great evil like what is up with that. every day i think abt that one luigi post abt how he's Doomed By The Narrative TM to be the Evil Twin Brother but he just chooses not to be. never not thinking abt that ever. hes so haunted by like literally everything got separated and brainwashed fought his brother aided in the destruction of the sammer guy world Died went to hell KOed spm satan got revived became GOD then saved the world. and he is some middle aged man in striped socks

MR L. GOD. that fucking guy. hes so lame. i like him so much. his theme goes SO hard in the silliest way imaginable. and i also like how even when he is brainwashed its kinda obvious he still wants mario around (see: brobot, the replacement brother). they fr tapped into luigis need to be useful and used that as is motivation to work for the count. yeowch. mr l to me is just luigi but Lots of parts of him just locked up and forgotten (plus a little minor bit of oh i dont know straight up brain manipulation, nastasia is a force 2 be reckoned with fr) Duno if im making sense here . anyway mr l is so so so hilarious to me because his one liners are so so dumb and i think the gag abt no one recognizing him is FUNNY (EVEN IF i think at least mario SHOULDVE recognized him but WHATEVS).

all of count blecks minions are . SUCH a fun little group. and while dimentio didnt give a fuck about them i still love his dynamic as the court jester whos a little bit of a bitch. the origins of them joining the group are very interesting because ochunks mimi and nastasia had been at their lowest when bleck recruited them and dimentio was like. let me in your emo band. ochunk's warrior code is something i think about a lot. he doesnt got a lot behind the eyes but hes got values he sticks to and i like that a lot in a character. him and mimi do spa days

bleck as a character makes me wanna chew through my walls. in a good way. guys who are slipping and dont want to get back up and bringing everything else down with them are fun and that is all. bonus! he still gets to be Somewhere quiet after the story's over

dimentio has to be my fave of the goons (not counting mr l). not surprising because hes just. so. ...... He is the Way That He Is. his little similes are so stupidly funny for no reason and i think being a Silly Guy and also a Guy With Ulterior Motives are the two funest traits a character can have. His ambiguous past is so interesting like yes bitch hide behind the mask keep cards up your sleeve dont let them know your next move!! something interesting i read somewhere was that. even after luigi the chaos heart and dimentio were separated that there were bits still mixed up between them, linking them not only prophetically but on the atomic level is a headcanon im tucking close into my heart . terrifying as it is super fucking rad !! luigi cannot escape the harbinger of doom allegations

dimentio and luigis entire dynamic is the best thing ever. because dimentio is a goddamn weirdo and luigi is. and i cannot stress this enough. JUST a fucking GUY. luigi is like "ill stop you you ne'er do well!" and dimentio responds with "im killing us both<3ciao!" why does every luigi villain wanna be no children mountain goats with SO BAD. they should keep doing it

god. the way mario is the mc and barely has a role in most of the story other than being The Hero of the Light Prognosticus is both a little annoying and also kinda sick /pos. annoying because mario is one of my faves and i want him to participate in the story more (not really a diss on the writing i just like him) but also kinda sick because . the way everyone in the game talks abt the hero from the prophecy is so. soooooooooooo. god. like everyone in favor of all worlds Not Ending preparing THOUSANDS of CENTURIES in advance just for mario to arrive. Pixls were locked in boxes and hidden away WAITING for him and its like. if he could talk back. i wanna know how he thinks abt all this. because throught the entire story You as the player kinda fuck things up for people in pursuit of the pure hearts. and mario cant rly SAY anything abt it cus its not Really his story, but MAN. what i would give for a little development on his end of the lineup during a few points like 'wilting' king croacus, figuring out squirps is now orphaned because he had to stay alive long enough to help the heros, Luvbis Entire Deal, and figuring out mr l was luigi all along. SIGH

i dont know much about the pixl war, but all of that lore is so cool to look into. ive got like surface level knowledge. even then i only rly care abt the history when im thinking abt the personalities of the pixls themselves. cus like they get their little moment in the spotlight and then they Never speak Again. dottie and cudge and fleep are some of the more memorable ones for me and i wish it was possible to hear more of them. but alas

squirps. :( in my heart. in my heart and soul. bowser takes squirps under his wing. forms an alliance with his kingdom (assuming. squirps takes over from where his mom left off). peach would of course also form an alliance with him. IDK. squirps is the Only One out of every major side character in the game who didnt really get a happy ending. while not everyone NEEDS one i think he deserves one. and in my perfect world he is being guided by two more experienced rulers (bowser isnt doing much in terms of teaching him good diplomacy but he sure as hell is getting him to hang out with kids his age like Jr).

bowser was so funny this whole game. love when evil guys get domesticated a little. thats all about him

PEACH. PRINCESS PEACH. god i love her. the way she was the only person to resist nastasias brainswashing AND her fucking umbrella is the most cracked defense in the World. blowing a kiss to the wind. for peach

ok so i cant think of anything else to say and i havent proofread this. if YOU, dear viewer, love super paper mario i need you to never shut the fuck up ever. there are like 12 of us

#spm #super paper mario #long post #HOO man. supare papa mareio.

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themistakehasarrived · 1 year

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OP. HI. I saw your name in the notes section and I the name was so so familiar, so I clicked, AND. ITS YOU. THE STORY.

I Mean. Words, pspspsps, come to me. Alright-what I meant is. Ive read your ao3 story, the Sincerely, Jackson Overland.

You have NO idea how much I adore it. Penpalling is hands down my all time favourite trope, but even if it is, and your story definitely has it, I didn't really start reading the story knowing there was going to be. I started reading the story and I loved it immediately. The writing style, the way you describe things, the way the characters FEEL and-and everything, really.

I hope I'm not being annoying here but Jesus christ, it's YOU! I didn't know you were here, and. Damn, hello! Good job?? Good job.

If I havent left any comments it's probably because anxiety and adhd paralysis are two whole entire bitches, BUT. But, man, I really REALLY like your story and how its turning out, you have no idea. I have it bookmarked and I'm pretty sure I'm subscribed! If I'm not, then I'll do it rn because. Yeah.

Anyway. Hello! Again. Oh, and merry Christmas! I hope you have a gentle holiday!

Hello and Merry Christmas!! I hope you are also having a lovely holiday!

Do not worry if you cannot comment, I get that anxiety and I don't mind if you cannot as long as you enjoy the fanfic.

This was an unexpected notification to get but I'm glad I did, exams and sickness have been kicking my ass and this helped make my day a hundred times better :D

This also reminds me that I should probably add penpals or letter au to the tags, that is likely one of the main components of the story that I have forgotten to address and just dumped in.

Oh, have a small fun fact before you continue your journey on tumbler! I actually began writing the fanfic because I wanted to write the letters between Jack and Hiccup! This whole fanfic came to be because I wanted a penpal au but in the Viking era and couldn't find it on Ao3.

Btw, your art is magnificent ✨💕

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xadoheandterra · 8 months

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F A L L E N

Series: Purple Stars

Story: F A L L E N Sences: I | II | III | IV Characters: Wing Dings Aster [W. D. Gaster], Asgore Dreemur Tags: Angst, non-consensual soulbinding, implied child abuse, implied child abandonment, zalgo text Summary: A SOUL shattered, and in doing so began to FALL, and FALL, and FALL, and FALL….

At its heart the v̴o̷i̷d̷ had always been there. Now it made up more of who A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ was; it mixed and melded deep within the bones that no longer existed. It twisted into his SOUL, the fragments that he clung to as he fell, and fell, and fell. Each piece, each forgotten moment of who he was came to him in a rush that he could not avoid. All the while the world around him twisted and turned and changed.

A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ watched, helpless. He remembered, helpless. A part of him burned sick every time he saw a Mageling fall into the underground. He felt terror in the knowledge that they would die, and how that would twist like a knife into the SOUL. He wanted to spare Sans the feel of it; he wanted to stop it--yet, he couldn't.

He would not even if he could, really. The walls of the cave were marked in bonecarved starcharts in A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴'s own childish scrawl. The ground was pockmarked with history. A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ fell, incapable of touching the world as the v̷o̸i̴d̶ cradled him, burned him, attempted to devour what little remained of him--and yet he could recall metacarpals threaded through the pile of leaves as he stared up at the night sky, young and thinboned, and felt peace.

I̸t̷ ̶w̸a̴s̶ ̶a̵ ̷f̵a̷c̷s̴i̶m̵i̴l̴e̷.̵ ̶A̵ ̶f̷a̶l̷s̴e̵h̸o̶o̴d̷.̷ ̶T̷h̷e̶r̵e̵ ̶w̶a̶s̵ ̴n̶e̴v̴e̷r̷ ̷r̴e̸a̵l̶l̴y̸ ̶p̴e̴a̶c̴e̷.̸

H̴e̶ ̸h̶a̸t̷e̵d̵ ̴d̸a̶r̸k̸n̶e̷s̷s̷.̷

H̶e̴ ̴d̷i̶d̴ ̷n̸o̷t̵ ̸w̴a̸n̷t̸ ̸t̵o̴ ̶r̶e̸m̵e̵m̷b̸e̶r̷.̵

M̵e̷m̸o̴r̸i̵e̷s̷ ̵f̵e̶s̸t̷e̷r̷e̶d̶.̷

It took two hundred years before A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ saw light again, before he felt awareness again. Two hundred years with no control, no thought, no being. It had been a gamble to give himself over as he had done, and he knew it would not be taken well after everything--especially since R̴i̶v̵e̴r̶s̶ followed him with their own Oath. Oh how it must have burned the Queen of All Monsters. A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ wanted to know how it felt, to have two SOULs forced upon her, tightly wound and bound to her own, all with little say-so on the Queen of All Monsters' part.

Yet for the first time in two hundred years his eyelights were on, and he could move himself. He was sore, magic-wrought from overuse or from lack of it A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ was not sure. He was also alone, R̴i̶v̵e̴r̶s̶ not at his side. He'd never been without the shadowed monster before. It was...lonely, being in this room, and he could not leave. He could think, he could move, he could talk if he wanted--but he was trapped.

Commanded to Stay.

At least it wasn't darkness.

H̵e̸ ̷w̷a̵n̵t̸e̷d̴ ̷t̷o̴ ̶g̷o̸ ̸h̶o̸m̸e̴.̷

H̷e̶ ̴h̷a̶d̸ ̷n̴o̴ ̸h̵o̴m̴e̴.̸

"What clan are you from?" Asgore asked one day as A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ knelt in the garden, metacarpals running along the purple petals of the flowers in front of him. The color was a delight to see after four walls and the same colors for so long. He didn't quite answer the eight foot tall monster, unsure of what was even expected of him.

Asgore was different. Where Queen Toriel was not what A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ had anticipated, and he paid for that misstep dearly, Asgore was--foolish, soft, kind. A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ did not know what to do with it. He did not know how to feel around the other monster, who sought him out and talked at him, even if he never talked back. The other man was patient, too. He never pressed for an answer right away, waited until A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ gave one, if he ever did.

A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ plucked the purple flower and stood. He was nearly six feet, now. He had grown since his confinement. He looked at the stem, the broken portion that he snapped with his fingers. It was a jagged edge, spilled green over the edge of his bones. He twisted his hands and stared at the color as it stained the white of his skeleton.

"I do not have one," A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ said, eventually, as he stared at the stain on his fingers. It reminded him of blood, of how the humans broke under his hands. It reminded him of R̴i̶v̵e̴r̶s̶, of how their ink and shadows would stain where they touched him. He tucked the flower into a pocket and glanced to Asgore with narrowed sockets.

"You are clearly a powerful skeleton," Asgore said, words gentle.

"And you are a fool," A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ countered, words also soft. He looked at his fingers. "Will she ever use me again?" He'd been stuck in this half-existence for long enough that he was not even certain how long it had really been. How long had he been confined to that room, and how long had he been allowed to roam--yet not act?

Asgore's paws covered his hands, and A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ resisted the urge the pull himself back and lash out with a bone spear. The gentle, soft, fool of a giant rumbled a short, "You are not a tool, friend."

A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ stared at the paw. His words were bland as he replied. "You should not touch me." He waited until Asgore took his paws off of A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴'s hands, and then said a soft, "The v̴o̵i̵d̴ stains." With that said A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ stepped around Asgore and began to walk the garden once again.

They spent another fifteen minutes out in the light, among the plants--just Asgore and A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ both, no other monsters in sight. There were never any other monsters in sight. It was as if his Queen had decided to continue his punishment for his audacity was to be constant isolation, with only her fool of a Consort for company. Perhaps she thought A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ would Fall Down if left alone like this, wash her hands of it--except--

--except for the firm, iron grip upon his SOUL that said he was not allowed. He was not allowed to Fall, and he was not allowed to act, and so he was left in this perpetual half-state of existence, alone. A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ closed his eyes and turned back toward the house.

"I think it is time. I returned to my room," A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ said, and in silence Asgore escorted him back to his room. It was the first time the goat had been this quiet in their walks. Perhaps it was because this was the first time A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ had been talkative.

Asgore escorted A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ all the way back to the room, and as A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ stood in the doorway, fingers pressed against the door, he hesitated. He was not sure why he hesitated, but only that he did. He wished to see R̴i̶v̵e̴r̶s̶ again, but he knew why he could not. His Queen had separated them for a reason; they were dangerous together, after all. Two v̶o̵i̶d̴-̴t̶o̵u̵c̶h̵e̴d̸ monsters, able to talk and feed off of one another in the way they did had always been a recipe for disaster.

"Thank you," A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ said, words soft even if they were near toneless. He looked at Asgore, and then looked away. "For the company."

Asgore smiled, a bright and blinding thing. He said, "Always, my friend," and A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ felt his SOUL flutter in his chest, suddenly tight and taunt with something he could not name. He felt a poke, a prod from elsewhere down the line--from his Queen--and then what little tension there eased away.

A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ moved to close the door when Asgore interrupted him for a moment more. The taller monster asked a short, "Will you tell me your name?"

It gave the skeleton pause. He looked at Asgore, sockets suddenly wide. A name? He opened his mouth, and then snapped his jaw closed and shut the door without a word. A name? He could not breathe. His chest felt tight even as he settled back against the farthest wall he could get. His eyelights were off and he settled down to the ground, buried his skull in his knobbly knees.

A name?

He felt the cautious prod of his Queen upon his SOUL, a quiet demand of what is wrong, and what happened, and he knew she got the information she wanted when the feeling edged away to leave him to his panic. He could hide nothing from her. He would never be able to hide from her for the rest of his days. A̷s̷t̵e̵r̴ laughed, a broken sort of sound.

A name. Stars above, a fucking name. He had never had the like, and that curled in him hot and burning, filled with shame. He did not have a name, he had no clan. He was a v̶o̵i̶d̴-̴t̶o̵u̵c̶h̵e̴d̸ parent-less abomination. He did not have a name.

H̵e̸ ̶d̵i̷d̵ ̷n̴o̶t̴ ̶d̷e̸s̵e̸r̴v̸e̴ ̸a̸ ̷n̴a̸m̷e̸.̵

B̵u̵t̵.̵

H̸e̵ ̸l̴i̷k̶e̸d̸ ̷t̴h̶e̷ ̴A̴s̶t̷e̶r̸ ̷f̵l̵o̷w̸e̷r̶s̶.̶

L̸a̷d̴y̶ ̴T̴o̴r̴i̷e̷l̴ ̵n̶a̶m̴e̶d̸ ̶h̷i̶m̷ ̴f̷o̴r̵ ̴t̶h̷e̸m̷,̴ ̴l̸a̶t̶e̴r̸.̵

#undertale #fanfic #wd gaster #asgore #fic: purple stars #fic: f a l l e n #angst

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thosefinelines · 3 years

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I love the movie Ready or Not and I always wonder like, what if Grace hadn't gotten 'Hide & Seek' on her wedding night. When Alex finally told her the truth, would she have just been okay with it? I don't think so because the movie establishes her as someone normal and good, but I do wonder since she wouldn't have been introduced to the family ritual in such a gruesome way that she couldn't push it aside. I feel like the likeliest scenario would be that she wouldn't believe him. In that scenario, I wouldn't be surprised if Grace ended up closer to Alex's family than Alex himself. Some interesting things could be done there considering Alex was framed as Le Bail's favourite and the best Le Domas child. But anyway, she wouldn't believe him until down the line when she herself has to participate in this ritual and realizes 'oh shit' and by then I have to wonder if she'd be corrupted enough by the family's riches and her relationship with them to be reluctantly accepting of that or if she'd stay herself enough to revolt and protect the poor girl (which would make a very cool movie let's be real).

The other scenario would be that Alex just straight up never tells her and forces the family to keep the secret too and in that case it'd be like. Bruh. How long were you hoping to keep that secret and how would Daniel have felt about it and what remnants of the secrets would have fallen through the cracks and I do think that if this were the case and there was a hypothetical night that Grace would have to kill an in law that she would have protected the girl (because it would've been even more of a shock than in canon)

#just. idk man.#ready or not #movies #I'm itching to write an au where she got another game and then like 20 years later have to participate but most things in canon still happen #daniel probably would've d*ed but he would still be so present via grace's thoughts as some of his behaviour becomes clearer wigh context #and his wife would still be participating and alex explores his relationship as the heir after all these years #there is no older generation to pressure them beyond the usual 'it's tradition' so it's all on him and his siblings #discussions about how daniel's wife is more le domas than he was #the maids still die the girl and grace trades killing scenes but where would daniel stand huh #he hates the 'tradition' but it's been a while but he has spent all that time hiding from the what the curse reveals of his family's morals #which in canon DOES NOT help but like I said it's been a while!!!#all depends on how well he has reintegrated on his family #there would be something poetic if alex doesn't betray Grace but I would say the same about him betraying her #oh shit I came up with an idea while typing and now ive forgotten haha. ha. hmm #I think I was gonna go with he betrays her but the irony is that part of why he reintegrated so well into his family was because of grace #interesting narrative. and not to asian project but I think it'd be interesting to explore your identity having to match a certain set of #characteristics in order for people to consider that identity valid and how bullshit it is. I bring this up to absolve grace because OFC she #wanted you to reintegrate not to include being horrendous as a part of that.#I hope tumblr doesn't cut off my tags sigh

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dadbodosamu · 3 years

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only you || part iii

Stepdad Osamu x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: shower sex, oral (m receiving), snowballing, semi-public sex, mild degradation, spit, squirting, daddy kink

4.1k words

also i forgot to tag them in the last part but thanks to @waka-chan-out and @vanilleswtmacaron for beta reading this!!

part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi || extras || only you, too

In the morning, Osamu was once again sliding into your bed. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and hummed in your ear as he settled down.

“Good morning, baby,” he muttered.

“Morning,” you mumbled, shimmying closer to him. You yawned and rolled to face him.

“Beautiful,” Osamu said, kissing your forehead. You smiled tiredly.

“Handsome,” you said, kissing his nose.

“Shower with me?” He asked. You hummed in agreement. He rolled you out of the bed, pulling you into your attached bathroom.

You pushed your shorts down to your ankles as Osamu pulled your shirt off.

“Cute,” he said, pinching your nipple playfully.

“We should start the shower,” you mumbled as Osamu leaned down in front of you.

“Mhmm,” he hummed, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples.

“Samu,” you breathed as he sucked at your nipple.

“Just can’t get enough of ya,” he mumbled against your skin.

You tangled your fingers in his hair as he swapped over to your other nipple.

“Yer sweet, lil’ body, so responsive,” Osamu said as your back arched, pushing your breasts into his face.

You pulled him up by his hair to press your lips together. He stood up, lifting you by your thighs. You wrapped your legs around him as he pushed you against the shower wall.

“Samu,” you moaned. You tugged his hair as he kissed down your neck. “No-no bruises.”

“Just blame Bokuto again,” he mumbled, sucking at your skin.

“At least leave them where I can hide them,” you said. He moved lower, kissing and biting over your breasts.

Osamu pulled back as you whined.

“Shower,” he said. You sighed as you stepped out of the shower and watched as Osamu started the water. Once the water had warmed up, you stepped under the water flow.

“How can ya stand it that hot?” Osamu complained, following you under the water. He hissed as the water hit his back and quickly spun you around so the water was hitting your back. You laughed.

“Just turn it down, babe,” you giggled, turning the cold water up.

“Just turn it down, babe,” he mocked, caging you against the shower wall. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Imitation is the highest form of flattery,” you said, pecking his lips.

He moved in closer to you, deepening the kiss. He lifted you by your thighs, wrapping your legs around him as the warm water coated your body.

“Samu, don’t drop me,” you mumbled against his lips. He lined up his cock with your entrance, teasing you with just the tip.

“Not gonna drop ya, princess,” he grunted. His cock slid into you slowly, drawing a long, low moan from your lips.

“Samu,” you moaned, tightening your legs around him. He rolled his hips against yours, forcing his cock deeper.

“Feels good, baby?” Osamu asked. “Feels so good havin’ ya wrapped around my cock, princess.”

“Feels good having you in me, daddy,” you said, digging your nails into Osamu’s skin.

“Ah, no marks, princess,” Osamu said, smiling at you teasingly. You kissed him deeply.

“Just not where they can show,” you said, pulling away from him. He buried his face in your neck and smiled against your skin. He snapped his hips up making you moan loudly.

“Samu, please,” you moaned, moving your hips against his. “Wanna cum.”

He reached between you and rubbed your clit in time with his slow thrusts.

“Not stopping you,” he said. You cried out as your stomach tightened.

“Samu, please!” You cried. “Harder please!”

Osamu rubbed your clit furiously as your walls clenched around him.

“Come on, baby,” he grunted. “Cum around daddy’s cock.”

Your stomach tightened and your walls fluttered as your juices squirted out.

“Cum in me, please, daddy,” you begged as you gushed around him. “Want you to breed me.”

“Fuck,” Osamu hissed as his cock twitched in you. “Want my babies, huh? Want me to knock ya up?”

You nodded as you pressed your chest against his. “Wanna make you a daddy.” Osamu groaned as he emptied his balls into your cunt.

“Fuck, yer too much for me, princess,” Osamu breathed, dick falling limply from you. You laughed as his cum leaked from your hole.

“Old man,” you teased as Osamu gently set you on your feet.

“Only four years older than ya, princess,” Osamu said, pecking your lips.

You two showered quickly after that as the water continued to cool down. By the time you were stepping out, you were shivering from the cold water.

“Aw, come here, baby,” Osamu said, wrapping a towel around you and pulling you against his body. “Let me warm ya up.”

“Th-thanks,” you stuttered, shivering in his arms.

“Y/n!” You jumped as your mom’s voice rang out. You pushed away from Osamu, stepping into your room where your mom was poking her head in from the hallway.

“Mom! Hi!” You exclaimed, rushing over to stop her from coming all the way in. “What are you doing here, shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Had to come back and grab my phone,” she said. “Where’s Osamu? His phone’s in our bedroom but I don’t see him anywhere.”

“I think he said he had to run by the restaurant,” you said. “Must’ve forgotten his phone.”

“Oh, okay,” she said. “Well, I’m going to take the car to work, so let Osamu know when he gets back.”

“No problem,” you said.

“Bye, sweetie, love you,” she called, walking down the hallway.

“Love you, too,” you called after her. You waited until you heard the car pull away before running back to the bathroom where Osamu was standing, looking like he’d had the most silent panic attack ever.

“She’s gone,” you breathed. “That was a close one.”

Osamu let out a long breath, his whole body relaxing.

“A close one,” he laughed, coldly. “My whole life flashed before my eyes.”

“Tell me about it,” you said. “I thought she was going to come in.”

“We have to start being more careful,” Osamu said. You nodded in agreement.

“Come on, let’s just get ready, the game’s soon,” you said. You smacked Osamu’s ass as he walked past you.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Osamu said. You smirked at him as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Who says I can’t finish it?”

“If we miss the subway, I’m going to cry,” you threatened as Osamu slowly got dressed. “Do you want me to cry?”

“I dunno, are you a cute cryer?” He asked, going through his closet to find a shirt.

“I won’t be if we miss the game,” you said, laying back on Osamu’s bed.

“Black or white?” Osamu asked, holding up two Onigiri Miya shirts.

“Samu,” you whined. “They’re the same shirt!”

“Black or white?” He asked again. You huffed.

“Black,” you said. “Do you only own Onigiri Miya shirts?”

“Pretty much,” Osamu said, shrugging. He tugged on the shirt and held his hand out for you. You grabbed it and let him pull you into a sitting up position. “Are you sure you don’t want to wear something else?”

You smiled widely as you smoothed down your sundress. “How else am I going to seduce Bokkun to join us for dinner?”

“I’ll kill him if he looks at you for more than three seconds,” Osamu said, pulling you up to your feet. His arms wrapped around you and he held you tightly against his body. “Also, no cutesie nicknames for him.”

“You do know I have to make it believable that he and I hooked up, right?” You asked.

“Just tell him ya hooked up with someone yer mom won’t approve of, which ya did, and that ya lied to her about who it was, which ya did,” Osamu said. “The best lies are ones that hold a touch of truth.”

“Oh and you’d know all about this, how, Mr. Lies?” You asked, looking up at him.

“I’ve been avoiding fucking my wife for a week,” Osamu said. “I know how to lie.”

“I’ll remember that,” you said.

“I would never lie to ya, baby,” Osamu said, pecking your lips.

“Better not,” you mumbled, kissing him again. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.”

Osamu’s hand was permanently pulling your dress down as the two of you travelled to the game. At the game, Osamu offered his hoodie to drape over your bare knees after you took a seat.

“Samu, stop,” you hissed as he tugged your dress down in a vain attempt to cover your knees as you sat. “I’m going to end up flashing everyone here my boobs.”

“Well now I have a new fear,” he said, thrusting his hoodie into your arms. “Aren’t ya cold? Put my hoodie on.”

“Will you leave me alone and let me watch the game if I put the hoodie on?” You asked. He nodded, scowling at a guy that had glanced at you a little too long.

You pulled the hoodie on, content as you watched the game, if not a little warm.

After the game, which MSBY had won 3-1 over the Adlers, you let Osamu lead you down to the court where the boys were all excited to see you.

“Y/n! Did you see my last spike?!” Bokuto exclaimed, spinning you around in a tight hug.

“You were amazing! All of you!” You exclaimed once he sat you down.

“Y/n, this is our captain, Meian Shugo,” Sakusa said, introducing you to their tall, handsome captain.

“This is Y/n, my new niece!” Atsumu exclaimed, tossing his arm over your shoulders.

“L/n Y/n, I’m a big fan,” you said, bowing lowly to him. “It’s an honour to meet you.”

“You’re the setter that these guys won’t stop talking about,” Meian said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You smiled widely as the guys made their way to the locker rooms and Osamu was dragging you through hallway after hallway until he shoved you into a supply closet and pushed you down to your knees.

“Ya look so fuckin’ hot wearin’ my clothes,” Osamu said, undoing his jeans and tugging them down. “I really, really want ya suckin’ my cock, right now.”

You wasted no time, immediately taking the pierced tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the cool, metal of his piercing.

“Bokuto, the fuckin’ idiot, flashed everyone your cute lil’ lace panties,” Osamu growled, tangling his fingers in your hair. “Thought Hinata was gonna cum in his shorts.”

You moaned around him.

“Oh, ya like that? Hinata’s probably jerkin’ his cock right now, jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout yer lil white, lace panties, barely hidden under yer lil dress,” Osamu said, pushing your head down, forcing more of his cock in your mouth. You moaned again, the vibrations drawing a low moan from Osamu’s throat. “S’too bad that’s all he’s ever gonna get. Yer my lil cock whore, isn’t that right, baby?”

You hummed as he let your head up for you to take a breath. As soon as oxygen filled your lungs, Osamu was forcing you back down on his cock.

“Come on, suck my cock, princess,” he groaned. “Before I fuck yer throat.”

You hollowed your cheeks and forced yourself to take more of his cock down your throat. The corners of your lips burned with the stretch and you forced the urge to gag down as you bobbed your head on his cock.

“Fuck, good girl, takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” Osamu groaned. “Should cum on yer fuckin’ face, just to show everyone who ya belong to.”

You clenched your thighs together as you pulled back and teased his piercing with your tongue.

“Don’t swallow,” Osamu choked out as his cock twitched in your mouth. “Hold it in your mouth.”

You hummed as his cock twitched again.

“Fuck,” he moaned, throatily, as he spilled into your mouth. Your eyes watered as salty cum filled your mouth and leaked down your chin.

“Come ‘ere,” Osamu said, pulling you up to your feet. He kissed you deeply. You pushed the cum into his mouth and grinned when he pulled back. “Open.”

Your mouth fell open and you moaned as he spat his cum back onto your waiting tongue.

“Swallow,” he mumbled, watching as his cum dripped from your tongue. You swallowed and opened your mouth to show him. “Good girl.”

Osamu pulled his hoodie off of you and wiped your chin clean with it before folding it over his arm.

“Come on, let’s go before they start wondering where we are,” Osamu said, tugging you out of the closet.

“We still have to talk to Bokkun,” you said, following Osamu closely.

“Talk to Bokuto about what?”

You jumped nearly in Osamu’s arms when you heard Atsumu from behind you.

“Tsumu! How long have you been there?!” You exclaimed, turning on your heel to face him.

“Long enough,” Atsumu said. He reached out and wiped at your chin with his thumb. “Heard something about ‘cumming on yer face to show who ya belong to’. Didn’t think he’d actually do it.” Atsumu casually wiped his thumb on his jeans.

“We can explain,” Osamu said.

“Yer fucking yer stepdaughter,” Atsumu said, crossing his arms.

“I, um, yeah, I guess so,” Osamu said, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s more than that, Tsumu.”

“A whole affair,” Atsumu said.

“You can’t tell my mom!” You exclaimed. “I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” Atsumu asked, smirking.

“I’ll kill ya,” Osamu threatened.

“Chill out, it was a joke,” Atsumu said, holding his hands up. “Besides, I don’t plan on telling her. Frankly, I don’t care.”

“Ya want something,” Osamu said, narrowing his eyes at Atsumu.

“Let me have a turn,” Atsumu said. Osamu stepped in front of you, pushing you behind him.

“I wasn’t joking when I said I’d kill ya,” Osamu said. “We’ve shared in the past but Y/n is different.”

“Osamu,” you cooed.

“I really, really like her,” Osamu said, ignoring you. “Like, it could be love one day.”

You melted a little. Your face softened and you hugged your arms around Osamu’s waist.

“Fine, fine,” Atsumu said. “I won’t say anything. I’ll even be yer cover.”

“What do you want?” Osamu asked.

“Free food whenever I go to any Onigiri Miya,” Atsumu said. “And maybe just one kiss.”

“Free food for a year and a kiss on the cheek,” Osamu bargained.

“Free food for a year and a real kiss,” Atsumu said. “With tongue.”

“What are we, in high school?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Free food for two years and a peck,” Osamu said. “And I won’t even kick ya after the kiss.”

“Or hit me at all!” Atsumu said.

“Fine,” Osamu said.

“Deal,” Atsumu said, smirking. “Come ‘ere, doll.”

Osamu stepped to the side, letting you move closer to Atsumu.

“No tongue,” you warned, before leaning in. Atsumu swiped his tongue along your bottom lip as you kissed him. You stomped his foot as you jerked away.

“Worth it,” Atsumu said, smiling victoriously.

“Shut up,” you said as Osamu wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He kissed your temple.

“Hope my cum tastes good,” Osamu said, smirking wickedly. Atsumu’s face dropped as he gagged.

“Ew! Gross, I demand a redo after she brushes her teeth!” Atsumu exclaimed, following after the two of you. You and Osamu laughed loudly as he complained behind you.

“Bokuto couldn’t make it?” Your mom asked as she sat the food on the table.

“That’s why we brought Atsumu to replace him,” you said, smiling widely.

Atsumu smiled at your mom wryly. “M/n,” he said.

“Atsumu,” your mom said, barely containing her glare. “I’m so glad you could come.”

“I’m sure,” Atsumu said.

You and Osamu awkwardly loaded food onto your plates as your mom and Atsumu glared at each other.

“So, how was work?” You asked.

“Oh, it’s terrible!” Your mom exclaimed. “Just the worst!”

“Oh? What happened?” Osamu asked, slurping up his soup.

“I have to work in Tokyo for the next week!” Your mom said. You bit your lip to keep from smiling.

“Oh, no! That’s awful,” you said. “But Tokyo, that’s nice.”

“It’s just now I really won’t get to see you,” your mom said, pouting.

“Maybe I could extend my trip a little,” you said. “That way when you get back we can still have a day or two just us.”

“Oh, as long as Osamu doesn’t mind having you here,” your mom said.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Osamu said. “This is her house, too.”

“Okay, then, that’s settled! We have to have a girls day when I get back,” your mom said. “I feel like I’ve just been pawning you off on Osamu this whole week.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t mind,” Atsumu snarked. You kicked him in the shin.

“I don’t mind,” Osamu said. “It’s father daughter bonding.”

“Oh, it’s bonding all right,” Atsumu muttered. You kicked him again. He hissed in pain.

“What was that?” Your mom asked.

“Just said that bonding is nice,” Atsumu said.

“So, when do you leave?” You asked.

“Tomorrow morning, around 5,” she said. “Way before you two will be up.”

“Are you taking the train?” Osamu asked. Your mom shook her head.

“I’m taking the car, hope you don’t mind,” she said.

“It’s fine, we’ll probably just hang around here, anyway,” Osamu said.

Atsumu smirked as he sipped his tea.

“We have that pick up game later this week,” you said. “With Bokkun, Hinata, and Sakusa.”

“It’ll be great, we’re gonna crush you,” Atsumu said.

“You don’t even know the teams yet,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Me, Omi-kun, and Shoyo versus ya, Samu, and Bokuto,” he said.

“That’s not fair! You three are all professionals! You take Samu!” You exclaimed.

“Ya don’t want me on yer team? I’m hurt,” Osamu said, clutching his heart.

“Against three pros? No, I don’t want you on my team,” you said. “I want Sho-kun!”

“Rock, paper, scissors, loser gets Samu,” Atsumu said, making a fist.

Your mom laughed as Osamu gasped in offense.

“Sorry, Samu, but I want to win tomorrow,” you said, holding up a fist.

In the end, Atsumu ended up stuck with Osamu and was still complaining when he left.

“Bye, Mom,” you mumbled tiredly as your mom packed her bags in the car.

“Bye, sweetie,” she said, hugging you tightly. “Tell Osamu I said bye.”

“I will,” you said. As she pulled off, you walked back into the house. You padded down the hallway and almost turned into your room when you remembered Osamu was currently laying down all alone.

You turned into his room and carefully crawled into his arms.

“Good morning, baby,” he mumbled, pulling you closer to him.

“Morning, daddy,” you said. You smirked as his eyes opened slightly.

“Oh?” He questioned. You rolled him over to his back and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.

“Wanna feel you,” you mumbled, rolling your hips against his.

“G’head, baby,” he said, holding your hips. You ran your hands along his thick chest and stomach, stopping to play with his pierced nipples.

He hissed softly.

“Sensitive?” You asked, pinching his nipple. He nodded. You leaned down and sucked one into your mouth, flicking your tongue against the cool metal. You teased the hardening bud then switched to the other one, only completely pulling away when they were shining with spit and swollen.

“Pretty,” you muttered. You kissed up his neck, sucking and biting at his slightly prickly skin.

“D’ya jus’ call me pretty?” Osamu asked as you nibbled at his jawline.

“You are,” you said, pecking his lips. You shimmied down his body, tugging his briefs off and tossing them to the floor. You palmed his hardening cock until it was bobbing heavily against your hand.

“Wanna ride you,” you said, straddling him again. You ground your wet folds against his cock.

“I wanna fold ya in half, princess,” Osamu said, holding your hips. “Throw yer legs over my shoulders and pound yer cute, lil pussy until ya cry.”

“No reason we can’t do both,” you said, reaching down to line his cock up with your dripping core. “We have all day.”

“‘m not lettin’ ya leave this bed,” he said. You sank down on his cock with a soft moan.

“Daddy,” you whimpered as his cock nudged your abused cervix.

“Take it all, baby, I know ya can,” he said, holding your hips tightly. You let him hold up as he pounded into you, fucking past your cervix with one, quick thrust.

“Samu!” You moaned loudly, digging your nails into his shoulders. You bounced on his cock in time with his thrusts.

“Takin’ daddy’s cock so well, look at ya,” he grunted. “Such a lil princess, wanting to ride daddy’s cock and not being able to take it all without daddy’s help.”

“S’too big,” you whined as his apadravya dragged against that spongy spot inside you.

“Ya jus’ need a lil’ help, baby,” Osamu said, hands tightening on your hips. “Yer daddy’s little girl, after all.”

You moaned as he pulled you down, your chests flush against each other. He smacked your ass as you bit at his chest.

“Can feel ya clenchin’ ’round me, go ‘head and cum for me, princess,” Osamu grunted. You cried out, your cunt walls squeezing him as you squirted around his cock.

“Good girl,” he praised before flipping you over to your back. Osamu hovered over you, kissing your lips gently before pushing your legs up against your chest.

“Daddy!” You cried as he continued to thrust into you. Your legs shook with overstimulation as he pressed two fingers against your clit.

“Want ya to make a mess for me,” he said, flicking your swollen clit. “Want ya to squirt around my cock again.”

“Harder, Samu, please!” You begged, gripping the white sheets underneath you. Osamu braced himself against the bed as he pounded into you harder.

“Gonna fill ya up all day,” he grunted. “‘Til yer swollen with my seed. Gonna be all fucked out and dumb when I’m finished with ya. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” you moaned, nodding. “Want daddy to breed me until it sticks! Wanna be full of you!”

Osamu grabbed your face roughly, forcing your mouth open. “Tongue out,” he ordered. Your tongue lolled out, drool dripping onto your chin. “Good girl.”

He spat on your tongue before kissing you messily, spit covering both of your chins and thin strands of saliva connecting you two when he pulled away.

“Gonna cum,” you gasped as he pinched your clit. He leaned up, watching you squirm as he relentlessly rutted into you.

“Squirt around my cock, baby,” he said, strumming your clit. “Come on, daddy wants ya to make a mess on him.”

You let out a high pitched moan as he pressed down on your bladder.

“No, no, daddy, gonna make a mess!” You squealed.

“Come on, princess,” he muttered, pushing down harder. “Make a mess on daddy.”

You cried loudly as cum gushed out of you, covering Osamu’s stomach and chest.

“Fuck,” Osamu groaned, balls tightening as he painted your walls white. “Good girl.”

You breathed heavily as Osamu pulled out of you and collapsed next to you.

“Daddy,” you breathed, cuddling into his side. “Didn’t know I could cum that hard.”

“Me either, baby,” he mumbled, pulling you closer to him. “Ya did so good, princess.”

“I made a mess,” you said.

“Just like daddy asked,” he said. “Ya want daddy to clean ya up?”

“Please,” you mumbled. Osamu stood up and lifted you easily, carrying you to the shower. He cleaned both of you off quickly before running a bath in the large bathtub.

“Ya want anything, princess?” Osamu asked as you leaned back in the large tub.

“Join me,” you said. Osamu climbed in behind you, wrapping his arms around you. You leaned against his chest and relaxed into him.

“This is so bittersweet,” Osamu said, rubbing his hand over your stomach soothingly.

“Why?” You asked.

“I just wish I had met ya first,” Osamu said. “Before yer mom. Now, I’ll always be the guy that got with his stepdaughter.”

“Hey, you didn’t raise me or anything,” you said. “It’s not like you’re my father figure or anything. You’re only four years older than me. If anything, my mom’s the weird one for marrying a guy her child’s age.”

“I really, really like ya.” Osamu said, nuzzling your neck. “More than I’ve ever liked anyone.”

“I really, really like you, too,” you said, smiling. You rested your hands on Osamu’s as he pressed small kisses up your neck. “I thought you were the most handsome man I’d ever seen when we first met. Nearly took my breath away.”

“I thought ya were the most beautiful woman,” Osamu said. “Couldn’t take my eyes off ya.”

You lifted his hand to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his skin.

“I’m falling in love with ya,” he mumbled against your skin. “This is the closest to love at first sight anyone has ever been.”

You kissed his hand again.

“What the fuck is this?”

#miya osamu #miya osamu smut #osamu miya smut #haikyuu smut #timeskip miya osamu #tw:incest #cai writes

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literaryobsession · 2 years

Text

hand in hand || bakugo x fem!reader

summary: all the top 3 students from the sports festival are required to open the socialization night for the school festival

warning: mild cursing

word count: 2644

chapters: i , ii , iii , iv , vi

vii

"You were so amazing!" You smiled wide at the others when the performance finished. Everyone in the class hasn't really seen the entire performance complete. There were moments that you did watch the band play, the dance group perform, and the special effects are practiced.

But they were not put together just yet. It amazed everyone as much as it amazed you.

Once the crowd dispersed, you help out with the cleaning, carrying the blocks of ice that Todoroki made for the show.

"Let me help you!" Kirishima met you as you were carrying it to them by the faucets. Bakugo looked at you and then went back to melting the ice with his hands. "Go and have a snack, L/N. We still have to watch the pageant later."

"Oh right. We're supporting Nejire." Hero upperclassman Nejire Hado was competing. Momo would have competed to if Mr. Aizawa mentioned it to her but unfortunately, your homeroom teacher has forgotten all about it.

You rush back to the gym and carry as much as you can carry back to Kirishima and Bakugo. But before you could leave the gym, you saw Mirio with a small girl (the others mentioned to you that her name was Eri). "Hello, senpai! Did you like the performance?"

"We did. Have you seen Midoriya?" He asked with that signature smile of his.

"I think he was called by All Might. You can just wait for him inside if you want." The gym was pretty cool so it wouldn't be too bothersome for them to wait there.

Before you left, Mirio called out to you, "Oh, and I'll see you later during the socialization night. Save a dance for me, L/N!"

You laugh, "Sure, senpai!" Then turn your head to a grinning Kirishima and an aggressive Bakugo.

"Hey man! Slow down!" The redhead laughed as he watched Bakugo attack the ice. The blond was letting out a deep growl, "Bakubro, hey."

"Here Kiri." You hand over the ice to them.

Bakugo glanced at you when he heard you calling out Kirishima's name. He turned away to do his job, ignoring you yet again.

Because it has been happening for the past few days, you have slowly gotten used to it. In fact, you have restored more energy because of this. Fighting with Bakugo, even if it is just playful teasing on your part, takes so much energy from you. It can get tiring.

You have decided that it is a good thing to finally stop arguing with the boy. That it is a great thing to stop interacting with him even if it was killing you inside.

Once you were all done cleaning up, some of your class went to see Nejire in the pageant. You tagged along, wondering if Momo could win this next year.

It didn't surprise you that your upperclassman won. She was flawless. You've always thought that she was amazing, ever since meeting her and the other Big Three students.

"She's so beautiful!"

"Do you guys want to check out the Class I-B play?"

"Isn't it over now?"

You walk behind your classmates, quietly looking around the school as you guys wandered for something else to do.

"How about we go to the Class III-A's maid cafe?"

"I want to go to the obstacle course!"

"Class II-B has a haunted house!"

It was amusing to hear your classmates discuss anything but hero work. You finally start sounding like actual students, unlike the heroes in training that you are. They all looked happy, without the weight of missions on everyone's shoulders.

Looking back on the months that you have spent together, this is the closest to a normal school event that you guys have ever experienced. Even the sports festival would not even count.

"Hey L/N, what do you want to do, kero?" Tsuyu asked you, pulling you back to reality. You found your friends' faces directed at you. Ochako sent you a smile as they waited for your answer.

"I... I want to start preparing for the dance later." You told them. It was still early but you just wanted to relax before the dance later. You said goodbye to them and went back to the dormitory, yawning all the way back.

The dormitory was empty and you expected it to be. It was peaceful and you plan to enjoy the silence as much as you can before everything goes back to normal.

"Mina! Do my hair!"

"Hagakure, I can't see your hair!"

The dormitory was back into its noisy state. After lunch, the girls started preparing for the dance later tonight. With the number of girls in the dorm and only two persons who know how to do make-up and hair, it can get ugly. A few hours after, the boys joined in and started getting dressed as well.

Momo put your hair up, fixing your hairstyle for you. Mina started with your makeup because they said it was imperative that the dance representatives look good. "Has anyone seen my highlighter?" She called out when she realized it wasn't with her.

"Why would you need a highlighter if you can twinkle like me?"

Mina groaned and she stomped out of your room to look for it, "We can't all twinkle like you, Aoyama!" You heard her yell out.

You smile and reach out for your phone, typing a reply to your mom that everything was going well. You heard Mina come in and close the door behind her, "Hang on, Mina. I-"

Bakugo locked your door before turning his attention to you. He looked handsome in his red and black attire. How the hell can he look even more attractive?

"What do you want?" You frowned.

"Hey! Let me in! I haven't finished with her makeup yet!" You heard Mina yell from the outside.

"It won't take too long!" Sero's voice came next. "Just let them talk!"

The blond cleared his throat, "Let's talk."

"What for? You have made it all clear." You stood from your bedside, then smoothened out your dress. "Can you step aside, please? Let Mina inside."

"No," Bakugo said through gritted teeth. "Sit."

"L/N! Present Mic wants the representatives- Hey! I am your class representative, let me through!" You heard Iida.

"Ignore the extras outside." Bakugo groaned a bit. He knew that this will happen but he just needed you alone so he can talk to you. You weren't making it easy. "Look-"

"Get the fuck out, Bakugo. We have to go."

The boy cursed in his head before he strode over to you. He grabbed you by the chin, making you look at him. "This is fucking confusing for me, okay? I have never felt this way for anyone and I can't even shake the damn feelings off. Can you just fucking listen to me?"

Your eyes met his. "Sure." You were interested in what he had to say especially when he started off with that.

The noise outside died down. You just know everyone is listening in.

"You are actually the one to blame for this, you damn extra." He let your chin go and let out a breath, "Whatever that trash blond said to you was true."

"Hey! I'm not a tra-"

"Kaminari! Shh!"

You couldn't even be bothered that there were people outside your door listening to what could be a confession from the person you like.

"But I'm still confused about it. I haven't..." Bakugo's cheeks turned pink but he tried to get a grip of himself so he could say what he had to say next. "I haven't felt this way for anyone."

"Did you mean all the things you said to me, Bakugo?" You whispered, stepping towards him. "All of those mean things?"

He looked at you and let out a gruff, "No."

"So, what do you plan to do now? You said you're confused and all." You wanted to hear him say he likes you but Bakugo was very honest to you, he hasn't felt this way about anyone and you knew you have to be patient. But you need to hear him say anything about your relationship, whatever this might be.

"We could...you know, go out or some shit." Bakugo looked like the usual teenage boy, instead of the ever explosive student-hero who aims to be number one. It melted the ice that you have put up against your heart.

His words made you smile and you can't help but tease him a bit, "Are you asking me out?"

This brought back the Bakugo you know (and maybe loved?), "Tch, damn right." He smirked and raised an eyebrow, "You better say yes, you idiot."

"Sure." You brought up your hands to his cheeks and pulled him down for a kiss. You took Bakugo by surprise so he pulled back just a few seconds after he realized what you were doing.

"What the hell are you doing, woman?" The red on his face matched his shirt, you pursed your lips to prevent yourself from laughing.

"I believe I was giving you a kiss."

Bakugo regained his composure and you almost felt bad that you were teasing him because he took your hand, tugged you so your body is against his, and gave you another kiss. It was deeper this time. You felt your cheeks burn as his lips moved against yours, even more, when you felt his hand move to your nape.

You were both new to this but no matter how sloppy these first two kisses were, you loved it.

Nope.

You don't feel too bad for teasing him.

When Bakugo finally opened the door, you two found most of your classmates listening outside. With no one else speaking, Iida had to rush you two outside because the representatives were being called already.

It was Mina who had the courage to stop Iida since she took out the lipstick that matched the one she put on you, "Hang on! I need to put more on L/N."

"And we need to rub that off from Bakugo." Kaminari laughed, noticing the smudges of red on the boy's lips.

"Shut up," Bakugo took a tissue from Mina and rubbed his lips raw. He was not even half-embarrassed as you when your friends found evidence of you two kissing.

You hurried to the grounds wherein the socialization night will happen and you gasp at the sight of it. There were twinkling lights on the trees that surrounded the big area, tables were set up all around to accommodate all the students, faculty, and staff of UA High, and soft music filled the air. You could almost forget the chaos outside of the school walls. For now, UA is giving everyone a night to remember.

While admiring every single detail, you didn't notice Bakugo had already taken your hand in his. He has always wanted to but he had always pushed himself back, scolding himself for being so damn weak. Now, he could hardly care less. You two kissed already, hand-holding wouldn't be too different.

It took you a few minutes to realize the warmth of his presence beside you and the big hand that almost took over your small one.

"You okay?" You ask him, half-listening to Present Mic. Little do you know that this will be one of the frequent two-worded questions that will weasel its way in your daily conversations.

"Yeah, good." He ignored you after as if his hand wasn't intertwined with yours. He gave Present Mic his full attention. When he agreed to dance, Katsuki Bakugo knew he will give his hundred percent to it. Even if it isn't as important as hero work.

The dance will open the event and will come before the speech of the principal. Everyone was excited to see the dance, especially since the winners of the Sports Festival will be participating. Your friends promised to choose a table nearest the dance floor in the middle, just so they can watch you up close.

Yes, they plan to take photos and videos.

You felt your heart hammer in your chest, the pressure of being under the spotlight getting to you. Bakugo must have felt that because his sharp eyes found yours, "Nervous, idiot?" He smirked, "Don't worry, I don't think they'll notice you stepping on my feet."

"You think I'm pre-"

"No, because I'm hot. Have you seen me?" He smirked even wider. Then he rolled his eyes, "You look okay too, I guess."

You squeezed his hand tightly with the attempt of breaking his fingers but this only made him laugh. At least he seems to be getting the hang of being close to you. The serious talk will have to come later when the both of you come to terms with how you feel for each other.

It's funny, you thought, that you came in this activity envying couples for being able to dance together. You didn't even expect that in the end, the boy you always seem to argue with would be the boy your heart flutters around for.

Momo was right. There is a thin line between love and hate. Although you don't think you ever hated Bakugo's guts.

You and Bakugo occupy the seats reserved for your class after Present Mic finished with his instructions. He hasn't let your hand go yet but for privacy, he slid it under the table and placed your intertwined hands on his thigh.

"So, where will we go?" You managed to ask. Your eyes were watching the other students make their way into the event area.

"Excited to go on a date with me?" It wasn't normal for him to play-flirt with you and you blame yourself for it. He laughed when you flushed, "Not so good at it now, huh dumbass?"

But you knew how to hit him where it hurts, "I remember you asked me out first, Kacchan." That made his cheeks turn pink.

"Tch, shut the fuck up." He grumbled under his breath.

"You still need practice, Kacchan. You can't beat me at this game." You leaned on your seat and giggled at how easily you can render him speechless with your words. Maybe all the months of play-flirting weren't so fake as you thought.

Bakugo shrugged, letting you off this time. He had half the mind to yell at you but the atmosphere was too intimate to break. Besides, he has most of his life to argue with you so he has plenty of chances to learn how to make you shut up.

Yes, like most of his goals in life, he has a laser-focused vision on you being in his life forever. It isn't romantic in a sense but being the determined guy that he is, you will have to fight him tooth and nail if you ever want to leave him. If he's deadset on dating you, you better believe that he will be doing this correctly.

And with all he's got.

This is how he is with his life, with his friends, and with his dreams. Katsuki Bakugo is always all in.

He felt you shifting on your seat as the number of students grew. He wanted to assure you that you will be okay, you had to be because he will make sure that you are. But being who he is, Bakugo never really found it easy to be nice to anyone. He was always brash and straight to the point. It was who he is.

Instead of saying something, which would end up with you and him arguing, he squeezed your hand.

He met your eyes and gave you that grin that he knew would bring you back to your senses. "Ready to knock them dead, dumbass?"

And of course, you replied in the most perfect way possible, "I was born ready, explody."

tagging: @icedemon1314 , @deneuves , @pink-hufflepuff

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #boku no hero fanfic #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugō

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scarlettscribbles · 3 years

Text

she used to be mine

- Anthony Bridgerton & TwinSister!Reader

Tags: 4k words - 3rd person POV, sibling fluff, family fluff, Anthony/Siena (not the main focus), Anthony is a soft boi when it comes to you (the softest, in fact), mourning

Warning/s: a bit spicy at the beginning, mild injury, mention of blood, major character death

Summary: A question from Siena about love sends Anthony into the past; making him recall his memories of a sister long loved, but never forgotten. A story told in moments.

a/n: don’t mind me, just manifesting my angst and bridgerton needs >> titles from waitress the musical

i. it’s not simple to say

“What do you think about love?”

“Love? What’s this all of a sudden?” Anthony laughed. He captured between his hands Siena’s own and kissed it playfully, making her giggle. “What do I think about it, well. I love kissing you, touching you-” he planted a soft kiss on her collarbone as his hands trailed down her abdomen. “I love--”

“Okay, no stop. That is not what I meant at all!” Siena stilled his wandering hands, laughing. She snuggled closer until they were chest to chest. “Love with your friends, family,...women.” she waggled her brows at the last word.

“Women, hah.” Anthony cast his eyes upward. “The only women I’ve ever loved are my mother and five sisters.”

“You mean four.”

“What?”

“You have four sisters: Daphne, Eloise, Francesca, and Hyacinth if memory serves correctly. Unless your mother’s pregnant, which I believe is unlikely. My lord, did you perhaps miscount?” Siena teased.

“No, no.” he waved his hand, chuckling. “She…”

ii. i still remember that girl

She was born 9 minutes before him; the eldest Bridgerton. This was a fact she liked lording over him teasingly. She won many arguments by simply stating “I am the eldest Bridgerton and therefore…”

Sometimes he could still hear her say it in his head.

“Remind me why I’m accompanying you again?”

“Because I am your older sister and--”

“I should always agree to what you’re saying, blah blah. Oh this is so crowded! Why could you not just send a maid to fetch the book?”

“Well what’s the fun in that? Come on Tony, you’re being too slow! It will be nighttime when we arrive there and the book I wanted will be gone!” she moaned miserably, turning around and tugging on his hand to encourage him to make haste.

“You and your dramatics. Why is this book so important anyway?”

“It simply is. I need it for when I become the Viscountess.” she smiled at him, chin jutting out proudly. “I can’t wait to get Papa’s watch. I will get it right, as Viscountess? He will pass it onto me along with the title.”

“Uh no he won’t. I am the heir in case you have forgotten, sister.”

“But I am the oldest. We might be both 10 but I am 9 minutes older than you.” she argued, waving her pointer finger at him.

“Yes, yes you’ve said that like a million times now! But you’re a girl, so you can’t. You shall marry some guy, not that there are any worth marrying. Why just the today I saw the son of that family I cannot remember for the life of me, doing something horrendous! I think it would be better for you to stay away from any and all men.” Anthony paused, realizing that he was - or is soon going to be - one of those men. “Except for me and Papa, of course.”

She merely looked at him in amusement. “Pish posh.” his twin huffed, eyes glinting in the sunlight. “I’m not going to exchange my ambitions for some mere man. You shall see Tony, I will have that watch. Now come on!” she dropped his hand and gathered her skirts, ducking and maneuvering between the throng of people. Anthony felt a tinge of panic, seeing his sister slowly becoming engulfed by the crowd.

“Sister wait!” he started to chase after her. He saw the blue tail-end of her skirt when someone bumped into him. He whirled around to complain to whoever it was; however, he seemed to have miscalculated the strength of his spin and tripped, landing on his bottom. “Ow, hey watch it!” he shouted at the people who accidentally kicked him, not noticing his figure on the ground.

Anthony hissed as he dusted his pants. He examined the palm of his hand and noticed scratches from when he landed too roughly on the floor. There were spots of red slowly making its way down his hand, along with drops of water.

Oh. He was crying.

“Where are you?” his voice warbled. “Sister…”

Has she left him, truly? Surely not. His twin is many things but never cruel. She was tenacious, smart, and…

“Tony! I let you out of my sight for a second and - goodness!” She ran over and knelt in front of him, glaring at the people who would come too close. They parted for her, giving them a wide berth. “Here, take my handkerchief. We should get home and wash your hands. We don’t want it to be infected. And your clothes are a mess, Mama is going to have a fit. Come now,”

“But your book?” he sniffed.

“Eh, I can get it some other time.” she smiled and patted his cheeks. “Don’t cry now, sister’s got you.”

...kind. She was kind.

iii. reckless just enough

Anthony was sulking. Not that he’d let anyone know. Papa had gotten angry with him. It wasn’t even a big thing. He simply...borrowed his watch to look at it. Anthony thought maybe he could figure out what made his twin so interested in it. It was a plain thing, nothing special maybe besides the monogram. He didn’t mean to drop it from the stairs. He really didn’t. He heard his name being called for lunch and he jolted.

He got a dressing down from Papa with his siblings present; Benedict and Colin in particular snickering at his plight. It was embarrassing. As soon as Papa dismissed him, he ran for his room, ignoring the calls of his twin.

Right now he was hidden beneath the curtains and behind his bookshelf. Did Papa really have to scold him at the lunch table? Anthony buried his face between his hands.

“You didn’t eat.”

Anthony banged his head on the wall when he looked up too fast.

“Are you okay?” his twin asked him, smiling amusedly. She carried with her a plate with bread, cheese, ham and a slice of blueberry pie.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re smiling.”

“Laughing and smiling are worlds apart, Tony.” she shook her head and sat beside him, nudging him insistently until they were shoulder to shoulder. She slid the plate from her lap to his. “Eat.”

Anthony looked at her blankly. “Are you so distraught that you cannot eat? Do you want me to hand feed you like a child?” She made a motion as if she was going to grab the plate but Anthony shooed her hands away.

“I’m perfectly capable, thank you.” he stuffed a piece of bread in his mouth. “How’d you find me anyway?”

“Please swallow before you talk.” she said. “And, this is your room Tony. I’m simply using common sense.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

Anthony picked up the ham and cheese and continued eating. For a moment, they just sat there in comfortable silence.

“It’s unfair.” Anthony said, breaking the silence.

“What is?”

“Papa.”

“How come?”

“He was way too angry. I didn’t mean to drop his watch! And it wasn’t even broken. If it was, he could’ve repaired it easily.” he pouted.

“You could’ve also just asked him to look at it. You know, in his room. Where you can’t drop it from a height and possibly damage it.” she replied with a bit of sarcasm.

“Fine, yes, I could have.” he conceded. “I just don’t know why he was so angry.”

“It’s important to him.”

“It’s just a watch.” Anthony rebutted, pouting. His twin gave him a look that he knew meant “you look adorable but also stupid.”

“Nah.”

“No?”

“Nope.” she answered. “For one, it’s an heirloom. Heirloom is defined as -”

“I know what it means.” Anthony waved his hand. “Do go on.”

She gave him a faintly annoyed look which merely made him smirk. “I shall, and not because you told me to.” she cleared her throat. “The watch being an heirloom is just its value as a thing. There’s also the sentimental value. The memories and emotions attached to the watch. For Papa, he treasures it because it - probably - reminds him of grandfather and grandmother. Grandfather especially. Because he was the one to give the Papa the rights and responsibility for our family.”

“Is that why?”

“Why what?”

“I wanted to know what makes it so special for you.” Anthony shrugged. “You always talk about it, about getting the watch when we become older. I didn’t see the big deal. Is that why it’s so important to you too?”

“Yes, quite.” she answered. “I want to take care of our family, Tony. I know I can, I just do. I don’t want me to just be a wife. I’m meant for greater things. Also,” she grinned at him. “I want it so I could count down the seconds until I see you again.”

Anthony fake gagged, pretending to chuck the bread and cheese onto his twins’ lap. His twin scrambled away far from him and yelped. “You are disgusting! Mama! Anthony ruined the new dress that we just got!”

“I did not!”

“You were about to!”

iv. i was never attention’s sweet center

It was just a stupid, off-hand comment from Benedict. Anthony knew his brother meant no harm but still, the comment hurt.

“Maybe she truly should have your title, brother.”

Anthony was no stranger to her loud and obvious wanting to inherit the head of the house. In fact, he supported his twin. If Papa permitted it, he would gladly concede to you. However, it was unspoken between the twins the knowledge that Papa would never agree to such a thing; no matter how much he loved his eldest daughter.

Anthony was no stranger to her excellence either. While the both of them worked hard to set an example for their younger siblings. He always thought she was great at everything a girl should be and more. Though the ‘more’ part would never reach the ears of their mother or anybody else. Nobody should know that Anthony taught her how to sucker punch anybody that vexed her except maybe Benedict and Colin...also Eloise. That girl was far too curious and also far too attached to Benedict. Anthony thinks in the privacy of his mind that if she were a boy, there would be no quarrel that she’d get the title.

Other people also thought the same. Though they expressed it in a much less pleasant way, in words Anthony does not care for. They speak condescendingly. They speak of her gender with pity in their voices, their admiration twisted. They mention that her excellence should be toned down, that she should focus instead on things better suited to her. They speak of how inadequate Anthony is, how poor that a boy be overshadowed by a girl. They theorize how Anthony must hate her for taking all the spotlight. He hears all this, and she does too, seeing as they’re almost always attached at the hip. If it bothers her, she does not speak of it.

They speak of lies. Anthony thinks that her abilities suit her as they are and that no matter how bright she shines, it would never be something to be upset over. He basked in her light. They are wrong for thinking that she’s taking a piece of his life away when in truth, she completes it. Best friends, twins, soulmates; he loves her and she loves him. Still, their words leave a mark.

So when Benedict said that albeit in a teasing manner, Anthony just ran away. As he got older, he found it the preferable way to escape his problems. If he could not run to her then he must run away.

Anthony hugged himself as a strong breeze blew and made the unoccupied swing beside him rock.

“Tony.” And there she was. His twin was holding a book. She sat at the swing beside him.

There was silence. The only thing he could hear were the wind, the scuffling of his feet, and the soft sound of her flipping the pages.

“Sister,” she did not look up from the book but she hummed, signifying that he was heard. “Why did you come out here? It’s better to read inside, surely.”

“You’re upset. Of course I would come.” she said matter-of-factly.

“Did Ben tattle?”

“Ben? Tattle? His mouth is tighter than a woman’s corset when it comes to secrets.” she laughed lightly. “Surely you know better than that.”

“Yeah, I do.” he smiled. Since they were little, even if they were distances apart, both of them would always know - or at least had an inkling of - what the other was feeling. During their early years they chalked it up to magic but now they both just conceded it as a twin thing. “Actually, I don’t. Know better, I mean. Everybody seems to think so. Am I inadequate, sister? Dumb perhaps? I feel like I cannot do anything right sometimes! Compared to you I - “

His twin laid a hand on his shoulder. “Tony.” her brows were drawn and her lips pursed. “First of all, there is no comparison brother. I am me and you are your wonderful self. We are both excellent, please do not doubt yourself of that no matter what anyone says. And I know they say a lot. I’m just so used to tuning them out that I never considered that you might not do the same. I’m sorry.”

She stood up and drew him into a hug. Anthony’s arms stayed limp at his side. “People will flap their mouths because that’s what they do; say their opinions even though it’s unwelcome. If we tried to stop every single one of them, why I believe it’ll take all our lifetime and more!” she chuckled. “We cannot change them so we must change how much we’ll let their words affect us. Their words don’t matter at all! If I could, then I would shove those words back up their mouth and let them swallow it. Which I don’t know how to do. D’you suppose punching them would work just as well?” Anthony laughed wetly at her quip. It would work but it would also involve somebody calling Mama and Papa for her ‘inappropriate behavior’.

“What I know is this.” she grasped his shoulders and held them so she could stare at him in the eyes. Anthony met her determined gaze head-on. “You’re good enough Tony. Hell, you’re excellent.”

Anthony sobbed and quickly drew her into a fierce hug, his tears surely wetting her dress but he knew she didn't mind. “That is as sure as the sun that rises in the east. As sure as our family’s love, and ours for each other.”

v. bring back the fire in her eyes

It started with a cold. She had stayed up too long outside and now she’s bed-ridden. Anthony crossed his arms at the corner of the room as his younger siblings ran around. In his opinion there was too much ruckus for her to properly rest. However, Mama brought it up earlier and his twin just waved her concern away, stating that some liveliness will do her good. And who was Anthony to go against the wishes of his dear sister? It doesn’t mean that he has to like it though.

“No you’re the troll!” Eloise insisted.

“I was the troll last round!” Colin argued back.

“Now, now,” Benedict placated them both, then he glanced at Anthony in a way that promised mischief. “Why don’t we let Anthony be the troll then? He certainly looks the part with how grouchy he is.”

Daphne giggled. “And how he’s guarding his corner.”

“And how horrendous his face looks!” added Eloise.

Now he’s had enough. “You all look far too happy for someone who’s going to be troll food soon.”

“Troll wuh - AAH!” Eloise screamed as Anthony lunged at her. She took off with a sprint and soon the other Bridgertons followed as well, laughing boisterously. “Noo, Ben save me!”

“This is survival of the fittest -”

“Survival of the fittest your face!”

“Ehem.” Suddenly all motion stopped. Colin face-planted on the floor, caught by his momentum. All eyes went to the door where Violet Bridgerton stood along with a maid. She had a smile on her face coupled with a vaguely exasperated expression. “I’m glad you’re having fun but please take you playing outside. I need to tend to your sick sister.”

Various moans and complaints filled the room but only with a raise of their Mama’s brow, they filed outside the room, murmuring farewells and well wishes to the sole occupant of the bed. All except one. Anthony remained rooted at the side of his sister’s bed.

“Anthony, please.” Violet gently said. A complaint was on the tip of his tongue when a hand laid on his bicep. He looked at his sister, looking frail among the covers but she merely smiled and shook her head.

“I’ll be fine Tony.” she said. “Go and check that our siblings haven’t set the house ablaze or anything.”

For a moment, both of them just stared at each other. A silent conversation passing between them both. Anthony sighed. “Get well.” he bent over to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’m not sure I alone will be enough to stop them from doing that.”

She laughed. “You will be.”

vi. sometimes life just slips

It was only supposed to be a cold. A cold.

Someone almost barreled through Anthony as he, Benedict, Colin came through the door. “Whoa!” he exclaimed as the maid said a rushed apology. Everyone in the house seemed to be in a mad dash. He exchanged looks with his brothers, who were as clueless as he.

“Anthony!” came the panicked voice of Eloise. He held her shoulders and looked over her for any harm of some sort that caused her to panic.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. Anthony was surprised to see her looking up at him with teary eyes. Eloise is looking at him like how she used to when she was much littler, pleading to Anthony. Believing with all her might that her older brother will make everything okay. He looked behind her to Daphne who was pursing her lips.

“Oh God, is someone dead?” Colin quipped, then promptly made a punched-out noise as Benedict elbowed him.

“Sister, she - “

“She’s dead?!” Colin cried.

“No!” Daphne growled, irritated. “She’s just...in pain. Mama and Papa sent for doctors.”

“Goodness, how serious is this cold? - Anthony, wait!”

Anthony didn’t hear Benedict’s call. How could he over the thumping of his racing heartbeat? He ran upstairs like the devil was on his tail, and even then he felt like he was too slow. He paused at her door, psyching himself to open it. If he went in, what would he see? He raised his trembling hands, the complaints of his siblings nothing but a faint echo.

The doors burst open and out came two elderly men and one woman. The siblings crowded around them. Anthony could only hear snippets as he zeroed in on you. Mama was kneeling beside his twin’s bed, holding her daughter’s hand tight to her chest.

“The young miss will be fine -”

“We expect her fever to break -”

“Dear.” Anthony jumped, startled. The woman accompanying the doctors addressed him. “Are you okay?”

“My - my twin sister, will she be alright?”

“Twin, huh. That’s why you’re so distraught. Well all of you are but you in particular,” she shook her head and smiled. “Your sister is strong. She will be fine. You can go in. I’m sure she’ll be glad for your company.”

She need not say it twice. Anthony ran into the room.

“Sister.”

“Tony.”

He felt like he could breathe again.

vii. rewrite an ending or two

“Are you sure you don’t want to get up here? We shared a bed when we were little. And when we grew, sometimes.” she paused, thinking about her statement. “Often.” his twin amended.

Anthony hummed when she stopped running her hands through his hair. “No.”

“The ground is cold, Tony. You might get sick.”

“How could I? You already took all the sick with you.” Anthony grumbled. “I’m fine, sister.”

“If you say so.”

“How about you?” Anthony asked.

“Hmm?” she smiled. Facing down and in the darkness, Anthony couldn’t have seen it but he felt it. “I believe I will be.”

viii. she is gone, but she used to be mine

It was a miserable day in spring when the eldest Bridgerton was buried.

ix. most days i don’t recognize me

“She…” Anthony clenched his jaw.

“Are you ever going to finish that sentence?” Siena asked, smiling until she noticed how tense he was. She reached out to touch his arm, inquiring, “My lord, are you alright?”

Anthony sniffed and quickly stood up, hastily picking up his clothes. “Yes, fine.” he answered, hopping on one foot to put his shoes on. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Siena asked. Anthony barely spared a glance at her, pausing shortly halfway out the door. He checked his watch, eyes glazing over for a moment.

“I need - I’m needed. At home.” With that, he briskly walked outside and into his carriage. It was today. He must’ve forgotten. How could he have forgotten? But he also ‘forgot’ the other years. The grief consumed him on this particular day. It was always a sore reminder that he was missing his other half. So instead of going to her grave, he went drinking. Instead of spending the day with her in his mind, he spent it with his cock inside somebody. Anthony spent so much time forgetting but now it’s as if her ghost had come to haunt him. Every memory had come rushing back, especially the day she died.

He remembered the night before. The doctors had told them she would be better. She told him she would be better. But he needed to stay close to her. Anthony fell asleep with her hand in his hair. Then he woke up to her eyes open but her breath was gone. He had never screamed so loud in his life.

Anthony remembered their parents barging into the room, Mama taking a step back looking as if she was seconds away from fainting. Then she saw her son on the floor and immediately enveloped him in her arms. He woke up in a bed sometime during the night. He woke up convinced it was all a dream but that promptly shattered when all his siblings (all except one) filed into the room in their sleepwear. Their eyes were swollen and wet. And it stayed that way until her funeral, and even some more after that.

The carriage stopped. Anthony got out and stopped at the gate. He knew Mama held some kind of family gathering during this day. What they did in the gathering, he had no idea. He never stayed long enough to attend. But today was different, somehow.

He padded softly into the drawing room. A quick glance noted him of all his siblings’ presence. Francesca was playing a familiar tune. Colin was singing in a low tone. Benedict, Eloise, and Daphne were all sitting on one couch, leaning against each other. The youngest ones sat on the floor, trying to follow the lyrics Colin sang. Mama was sewing. The melancholy vibe was replaced with a startled one. Francesca stopped playing and Colin stopped singing. Mama dropped what she was holding and walked towards him, arms open.

Anthony crumbled. “Mama -”

x. for the girl that i knew

“Mama what do you think about love?” It was indeed a bleak day in spring. Everybody had left after the service but Anthony chose to stay, lingering.

“Anthony I -” Violet began.

“Why does it hurt so much?” he whirled around, uncaring as tears and snot fell messily down his tired face. “I feel as if someone carved an unfillable hole inside me. Like every breath I take is not right. Half of me is buried six feet underground, mama. How can I bear it?”

Anthony curled into himself as Mama enveloped him into her arms. “One day at a time, dearest. You have us still.” she whispered. “One day at a time.”

[fin.]

#anthony bridgerton #bridgerton tv #bridgerton netflix #fanfiction #bridgerton fic #sister!reader #reader-insert #anthony bridgerton & sister!reader #twinsister!reader #oneshot #sibling fluff #fluff #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #scarlettscribbles

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kimnjss · 4 years

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desperate housewife | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader (ft. taehyung) ⇢ genre: smut. ⇢ word count: 5.5K ⇢ theme: husband!jungkook, housewife au, established relationship ⇢ rating: explicit. ⇢ warnings: soft angry guk, car sex, nipple play, unprotected sex (stay safe loves!)… this was lowkey kind softcore, ngl. ⇢ summary: bored with your husband gone all the time, you decide to take up a new hobby... jungkook can only seem to focus on one thing when it comes to your new pastime. ⇢ A/N: this was heavily influenced by desperate housewives, okay. ive been binging it during quarantine nd kind of spit this out lmao. also!! want to apologize if this feels all over the place, kept on stopping nd starting again... so yeah!

The day your husband proposed, he gave you his word that you'd never have to lift a finger once you were married to him. His faith in his career and talents fueling his proclamation. You would've said yes even without it, but it was nice how badly he wanted to treat you like a princess.

You and Jungkook had been together for two years before he decided to get down on one knee. He made it known that he thought you were the one from the beginning and you had always thought, it was soon to tell- but he was right.

Your agreement was no short of immediate, wedding date set for an exact year after that day and you couldn't wait. Jungkook was oddly helpful with the planning and organization, way more than you'd expect a husband to be, but he was genuinely interested.

With his help, you two pulled off a gorgeous ceremony. His family and yours filling the place, watching as you agreed to become one with this man. It was all you wanted. Becoming Mrs. Jeon Jungkook was the best day of your life. Three days after your honeymoon in Malta, Jungkook was urging you to quit your job.

You did.

Jungkook was serious about keeping his word, didn't plan for you to lift a finger at all. A maid was hired to do the cleaning, chef to do the cooking, a yard boy to tend to your pool and pretty garden. You even had a personal driver to drive the car he had purchased for you.

Not once did you think of complaining. It was nice. Not having to worry about this or that or the other thing. Having everything done for you really freed up time for you to do the things that you really liked to do. The only problem was, you've been busy working your whole life you never really had the chance to figure out exactly what that was.

And it wasn't like you could hang out with the husband you loved so much, he hardly had time to cut his hair, let alone hang out with you. So you spent your days at home, chatting with the members of your staff and counting down to the days that Jungkook was able to come home.

It wasn't until you caught yourself in a heated argument with the yard boy about the exact inch length of your front lawn did the realization hit you. You needed a hobby. Shopping, getting your hair and nails done, that wasn't going to cut it. You needed something that was just for you.

You just needed to figure out what that was.

Sat on the couch with your feet propped on an ottoman, you flipped through your catalog. Sulin, the maid, stood across from you, wiping the windows down with glass cleaner. The sound of a car door slam had your fingers stilling, your body perking as your attention was brought to the large window in your living room.

“Mr. Jeon is home,” Sulin informed you, but you were already standing; all but running out the front door. Jungkook was waving goodbye to the man who had dropped him off, hands clutching his way too large suitcase. “Baby!” You squealed, not being able to contain yourself as you leaped for him.

Your husband and his ever so impressive reflexes were catching you easily, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist as he leaned up for a starved kiss. His hands were properly placed on your sculpted bottom, slowly inching up to grip the flesh. A squeal flew from your lips as you pulled back, playfully swatting at his shoulder.

“Do you really think the Jefferson's want an eye full of you groping your wife on the front lawn?” You questioned with a raised brow. Jungkook shrugged his strong shoulders, tilting his head up to reach for your lips again.

“The Jefferson's have been married 30 years, have six kids, I think they know a thing or two about groping.” You pushed the thought of your ancient neighbors going at it, instead deciding to concentrate on the cute dimples indenting your husband's cheeks as he flashed a boyish grin. Not only was this man blessed with deadly good looks, but he also had the heart and spirit of a young child. Things never got boring with him around.

Your hands cradled his face, leaning down the rest of the way to press your lips to his again. “I've missed you so much.” Your words are barely comprehensible, considering your mouth is smushed against his. Somehow, he understands you totally, sharing your sentiment with a wide grin.

His hands finding your ass again, Jungkook holds you to him as he begins taking long steps toward your house. You could feel his length against your thigh with each step he took and you knew exactly what you were in for once you reached the bedroom. Or maybe the kitchen. Hell, he might even give up on the front porch and do it there.

Yeah, things never got boring with Jungkook around.

An entire week had passed since Jungkook came back home. A whole week filled with laughter, games, impromptu trips, spontaneous dates. A full week of fun with the man of your dreams. Every waking moment was spent together, genuinely enjoying each other that you forgot he would be leaving come Sunday.

This is why you wore a permanent scowl on your face as you neatly folded his clothes, taking on the task to pack his suitcase. Sulin had been doing it when you entered the bedroom, but for some odd reason, you felt like you wanted to. She was more than happy to pass the task on to you, moving to get dinner started.

Since it was Jungkook's last day in the house, Sulin had suggested she made all of his favorite foods for dinner tonight. No protests on your husband's side, of course, and you figured your waistline could suffer if it meant witnessing that huge bunny smile that took over his features.

Warm arms wrapped around your waist, chiseled chin nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Jungkook pulled you into his embrace, taking in the sweet smell of the perfume you prayed whenever you got out the shower. “How's my princess doing?” His tone was soft and caring.

Jungkook knew that you were upset that he was leaving. But he also knew that you weren't upset with him. Couldn't be upset with him because you knew what you were in for from the beginning. It just annoyed you that his job always cut into the time that the two of you got to spend together. He was hardly ever home, never really unpacked when he was home because it was just a matter of time until he was leaving again.

It was like your house was just a rest stop and that annoyed you, passionately. You didn't want to make him feel bad, though. You knew he was trying his best; could tell with how he fought sleep when he was back just so he could spend time with you. It was hard on him too, so there was no reason to make a stink out of it.

You pulled his suitcase closed, zipping it before turning in his arms. Your scowl had morphed into a pout, arms wrapping around his neck. Lifting up on your tiptoes, you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “I'm okay. What time is your flight?” You wanted to know just how much time you had left with him.

“Javier will pick me up right after dinner.” Guess you only had a few more hours left with him then. A sigh slipped from his lips, his hands cupping your face and thumb brushing over your cheek. “I won't be gone long this time. Just a week or two and then I have a month off,” He offered up with a grin and you matched it, nodding your head.

“Can we visit that resort when you get back, then?” You looked up at him hopeful, his head was nodding not even giving a moment to think of the request. “Whatever you want. Just put it on the schedule. A whole month, I'm all yours.”

It was like time was on a treadmill whenever you were with him. Before you knew it, dinner was being served and the two of you sat across each other at your way too big dining table. “You know,” He was speaking after some time had passed without either of you saying a word.

You were playing with your food, eating in slow motion as if that would keep time from moving so he wouldn't have to leave just yet. Head lifting at the sound of his words, you tilted your head to the side. “Sammie Fields and a couple of her girlfriends all take dance lessons at the gym across town.”

Face contorted, you tried to figure out why he was offering up this information all of a sudden. “Alright, you got me. Why are you telling me this?” You pushed out a laugh, hoping not to sound too harsh. You just wanted to enjoy your silent dinner before he was being whisked away.

“Maybe you should join them sometime?”

“Is this your way of telling me that I need to start working out? Believe it or not, Jeon Jungkook I'm in-” He was quick to cut you off, quick denying shakes of his hands as he leaned toward you. “No! No, it's nothing like that. I just... you said that you were bored,” Your cheeks darkened, had forgotten that you had shared that with him while catching him up on everything that had been happening while he was gone.

“Oh, yeah. Right. Sorry.” You smiled sheepishly and he shook his head. “I don't really get along with Sammie and her friends. Don't think they'd really care for me tagging along.” It was no secret that the girls on the block weren't all too fond of you. You weren't sure why, but they didn't really seem interested in being your friend – had their little clique made before you even moved in.

And they weren't taking any newbies anytime soon.

“Ugh, I wish you could just come with me. I hate that you're stuck in the house bored all the time.” It had been suggested and shut down when you two first got married. Jungkook didn't really want to travel without you with your marriage so new, so he came up with the idea that you just came along with him.

His manager was quick to veto his proposal, deeming you an unnecessary distraction – the asshole. “I'll be fine, don't worry about me.” You pushed a smile onto your face, but he didn't look convinced; cut into his pork with a quizzical look on his face. His teeth worried his lower lip and you could almost literally see the wheels turning in his head.

“Or! You know what, I could take up tennis?” You suggested, with a grin. “Tennis? Since when were you into tennis?” A shrug of your shoulder was sent in his direction as you reached forward to grasp your wine glass, bringing it to your lips. “It's never too late to learn,” He nodded.

“Are you sure you're going to like it? I mean... not to discourage you, but baby, I've not even seen you pick up a ball. Well, besides...” From the smirk on his face, you knew exactly what he was alluding to. You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the smile that tried to peek through.

“It could be fun,”

You could tell that he was happier now, at ease knowing that you weren't just going to sit around watching grass grow as you waited for him to come back. “Alright, then! I'll get you the best trainer there is. Let me just...” His hand reached for his phone on the table, your hand quick to stop him.

“You don't have to do that, baby. I'm sure there are plenty of good enough trainers at the gym. Cheaper too.” Although you loved being pampered and spoiled by him, you didn't marry him because he was stinking rich.

You married him because you were madly, deeply, truly in love with him- so there was no need for him to hire 'the best' anything for your new hobby.

“I guess if you're sure.”

“I'm sure. I'll head to the gym tomorrow and meet someone,” He nodded, attention being drawn back to the meal in front of him. Finally being able to enjoy his favorite food without worry creasing his brows.

Two days after Jungkook had left, you were dragging yourself out of bed and heading straight to the gym. You were excited, always had liked tennis and the whole idea of it; you figured it would be fun to actually play it.

Finding a trainer was a lot easier than you had thought it would be. After a brief conversation with the lady at the front desk, she was leading you down a long corridor into a sectioned off area of the gym. More elaborate work out machines were back here, a large TV and a sauna.

“Mr. Kim.” She called to the man running on the treadmill. A fitting long-sleeved top hugged his muscles, loose shorts bouncing with each movement of his strong legs. The woman called out to him once more before he was pulling the headphone from his ear, pressing a few buttons on the machine to slow his steps into a walk.

“What's up?” He replied, a bit out of breath.

“This is Mrs. Jeon,” She introduced you formerly, despite how you insisted she uses your first name. The man cocked a brow, sparing a sideways glance in your direction. Undeniably handsome, a face appears to be carefully structured by the gods. A strong jaw, pink full lips, cheekbones, nose a little large but fitting for his handsome face, dark intense eyes guarded by long eyelashes. Even his eyebrows were pretty, what the fuck?

The man pushed a long finger against the machine in front of him, stopping it completely. “She's in looking for a tennis trainer. I figured you would be fit for it.” He was hopping off of the machine, turning to face the two of you fully.

“Have you ever played before?” His words were directed to you, but you were distracted by the deepness of his voice. Did he really sound like that... all the time? How intimidating. His head tilted, awaiting your answer.

You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, desperately trying to rake your brain from what he had just said. “Oh!” You spoke a little too loudly. “Not really, no. I've just always wanted to...” The intense way he was staring at you had your sentence trailing off.

He didn't speak, eyes scanning over you carefully; making you feel small. Even the girl that brought you here sensed the odd tension, shifting uncomfortably on the balls of her feet. His tongue pushed out to lick his dry lips, a smirk taking over his features as he dragged his gaze back up to your eyes. What you would give to know what was going through his mind just then.

“It'd be my pleasure,” His voice velvety sweet with some promised laced in his words. You grinned, taking hold of the hand that he had extended out to you. “I'm Taehyung.” He introduced himself with a small smile.

Taehyung nodded at the sound of your name, going to release your hand from his grasp just as the piece of jewelry wrapped around your fourth finger caught his attention. Mindlessly, his fingers brushed it, his eyes finding yours once again.

There was something going on in his mind, you knew it. Could tell by the furrow of his brow and the smirk on his face. You just couldn't decipher what it was. His hand was dropping yours, slipping into the pocket of his pants.

“Lynn will set you up with my schedule. See you soon, Yn.” Taehyung flashed that teasing smile before tucking his earphone back in and climbing back onto the machine. Lynn led you out the same way you first came, stopping at the front desk to schedule you.

No matter how hard you tried to concentrate on the words coming out of her mouth, you couldn't shake the thought of Taehyung from your mind. It was weird. Sure, you've been swooned by attractive guys before, you were married; not blind. But this was different, he was different.

You didn't know what it was and you were scared to find out. There was no point in either way. These were just tennis lessons. Nothing more, nothing less. You were married so that was it. Halfway home, you wondered if you should turn around and demand a different trainer. Decided against it, surely nothing will happen..., right?

Two weeks had passed since Taehyung had become your personal trainer. It was fun, learning the sport and getting to know the mysterious man that paid so much attention to your skills. He had this set narrative of what you were capable of and never accepted less, always pushing you and oddly you liked it.

Your game was getting better as the days rolled by. Time no longer standing still with this new hobby of yours. You two met every day at 3 o'clock, most lessons lasting for an hour... maybe two if he wasn't busy, three if he got hungry in the middle. It was fun and you were quickly feeling as though you could think of the man as a friend.

The tension that surrounded you two when the first meeting had died down. You weren't interested, no matter how many smirks he threw in your direction. Jungkook was the love of your life and messing that up was at the bottom of your list. It wasn't even on your list. Taehyung got the hint without you having to spell it out for him. You appreciated that.

A gentle hand on the small of your back stilled your movements, your head turning to face the handsome man standing behind you. “You need to straighten your back,” His deep voice instructed and you nodded your head, following his orders.

He smiled, hand leaving your back to grasp your elbow- the other hand reaching for your wrist. “Tuck your core in when you swing, gives you more power.” The hand on his elbow dropped, splayed fingers landing over your belly button. You brought your arms back, tucking your core in and going for the swing.

You could feel the difference. “Oh! I didn't think it would-”

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Your sentence was being interrupted by the booming voice of your husband. His face twisted with anger as he approached the two of you. “Get your hands off my wife!” He shouted, the words making Taehyung release you, jumping back a few steps.

“Jungkook? You're back early.” It was the only thing you could muster in your shock. Never had you seen him this angry before. His hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you behind him as he stood square in front of Taehyung.

He sized him up, jaw clenched and fists balled. “Who do you think you are? Touching her like that?” Despite having the big muscle pig that was your husband in his face, Taehyung didn't seem the least bit intimidated. Arms crossed over his chest as he stared up at Jungkook, bored.

Sensing this could take a turn for the worse, you decided to step in. “Jungkook, baby. Relax. He's my trainer!” Jungkook only half-listened to your words, squaring his chest as he stepped closer to Taehyung.

“Does your trainer know that you're happily married?” His words were delivered through clenched teeth to the man standing in front of him. Taehyung was rolling his eyes, hands patting at your husband's shoulders.

“I suggest you calm down there, buddy. I can have you kicked out and your wife banned with a snap of my fingers.” He wouldn't do that right? Ban you? You two were friends, he was just saying that?

You didn't want to be the one to call his bluff. Hands finding Jungkook's elbow, you tugged him toward you. “Let's just go, baby.” He scoffed, tugging his hand from your grasp before turning and passing you, stomping up the hill.

You quickly followed behind him, legs moving quickly in fear he might leave without you. He had stopped in front of his car, hands in his pocket. You landed a soothing hand to his back. “Baby, I promise you. Nothing like that was happening. He was just helping me with my form!”

His hand pulled out from his pocket, your big, expensive wedding ring between his fingers. “Why aren't you wearing your ring?”

“Oh.” You could feel your cheeks darkening, embarrassed as if you had been caught. But you hadn't! You just knew what he was thinking and how all of this looked. You reached your hand forward, taking the jewelry from his hand. “I only take it off for training, I didn't want it to fly off.” You tell him, and it's the truth.

He doesn't believe you, rolling his eyes right in your face. “Yeah, fucking right and you just so happened to get paired with the young attractive trainer, rather than someone who is actually qualified.”

“It's not like that! Don't you trust me?” Wedding ring secured back on your fingers, you reached up to cup his face in your hands. You offered a soft smile up at him, thumbs stroking his clenched jaw. “I would never do something like that, baby.”

Scowl not falling, but an arm wrapping around your waist; you could tell he was softening. “It's not you, I don't trust.” He grumbled and you nodded in understanding, standing up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

“I know, baby. You'd be the first to know if he tried anything,” Your words are murmured against his lips. The grasp he holds on your waist tightening as he pulls your body tighter against his. You feel his grasp dropping from your hips to your thighs until he's lifting your body off of the ground; easily wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your back is being pushed against the cool exterior of his car, his body pressed tight against yours as his kiss gains intensity. His mouth desperately searching yours as if trying to imprint himself on you. His hand slid underneath the bottom of your tank top, smirking at the realization of your lack of bra.

Jungkook was breaking the kiss, leaving your lips yearning for more of him. Dark eyes stared into yours, heavy breaths leaving his lips as his thumb caresses your hardening nipple. “I can't fucking believe you.” He snarled, fingers pinching at your nipple; making you yelp.

He didn't even allow you a moment to reply, lips crashing against yours with much greed, hunger as his hips pushed up into yours. You could feel how hard he was even through the fabric of his jeans and you wondered if he'd fuck you right here... against his car where anyone could walk by and see you.

The thought had a rush of arousal pooling between your legs. You leaned into his kiss, returning everything that he was giving you. Jungkook's kisses were everything he was; sweet, passionate, determined, horny. His hands dropped from your body, grasping the behind you as his tongue pushed further into your mouth.

With unbelievable swiftness, Jungkook was pulling the car door open, lifting your body off of the car and laying you across the back seat. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss to climb onto you, trapping your body between his strong thighs.

You slid your hands up the front of his shirt, the rapid beating of his heart surprising you. He still wore that scowl on his face and you frowned. “I love you, Kookie. You know that, right?” You offered a sweet smile up at him, which he only nodded to. His hands hastily pulled your shirt up and over your head.

His face was buried in your neck, attacking your slightly sweaty skin with his lips and teeth. Big hands grasped your breasts, teasing them. Hearing the whimpers, the moans that his touches caused did wonders for Jungkook's ego. He loved knowing that he was the only one that could get you like this, see you like this. Fuck that Taehyung guy, you were his and he was more than willing to prove it to you.

He couldn't help the primal instinct to cover your body in his marking to make it completely and utterly clear that you belonged to him. Quickly, his hands were dropping and rounding your body to grasp your ass; using his grip to pull your body against his. At that exact moment, he was sinking his teeth into the skin just above your collarbone, sucking harshly on the spot right after.

“Fuck, Jungkook!” He loved the sound of your sweet moans. Loved it even more that it was his name falling from those pretty lips. Jungkook rolled his hips forward, grinding his hard and growing erection against your scarcely covered pussy. Such a tiny useless skirt, did you really think he'd have nothing to say about you prancing around in this?

Your shaky hands found the dark curls of his hair, tugging at the roots as his lips dragged their way down your chest. You were already so needy for him, back arching in an attempt to push your breasts closer to his lips, hoping he'd take the hint. He did. A breath of relief fell from your lips as his mouth finally wrapped around one of your hardened buds, wet tongue drawing circles around it, pulling desperate moans from your lips.

He was pulling back with a hiss, teeth sinking into the flesh of your tit, making you yelp. His gentle tongue soothed the skin, dark eyes peaking up to admire your lust-filled, half-lidded eyes. A gentle kiss pressed against the marked skin, “You're so pretty like this.” He grinned.

Jungkook reached his hand down to still the grind of your hips that had started without your knowledge, he pinned you against the leather seats and you whimpered. “What is it that you want, baby?” Fuck, his voice. It wasn't often that Jungkook took on a dominant role, sort of liked to go with the flow. But right now, the way he was looking at you, handling you, hand an unfamiliar twist building in your stomach.

There was no way you'd be able to keep your composure if he kept on like this. “I need you, Kookie. I need to feel you.” Never did you think he'd be down for car sex, but you weren't opposed to the idea; not one bit. With that, though, you knew that you had to be quick; there was no telling who could come rushing down the hill. Which meant foreplay wasn't really in the cards for you two right now.

Jungkook was quick with leaning back on his knees, tugging at the buckle of his belt until it came undone. He only pushed his jeans down enough to pull his cock out. No matter how many times you saw it, you always seemed to find yourself mesmerized by Jungkook's cock.

It was no surprise that it'd be long, Jungkook was a big guy and it was only fitting that he'd have a big dick. Rested nicely just inches below his belly button. It was thick too, pretty veins wrapping around the length and a pink tip that had your mouth watering and pussy clenching.

Jungkook watched you expectantly, a subtle smirk on his lips. He had definitely caught you ogling. It took you a moment to figure out why he was looking at you, but you were quick to catch on, lifting your hips to wiggle out of your tiny skirt. “Fuck, baby.” He breathed, eyes fixed on the way your panties clung to your damp lips. You felt your cheeks darkening.

He never had to do much to get you like this. A giggle left your lips, “You're the only one that makes me like this.” You reminded, hands reaching up to reach for his shoulders as you pulled his body down onto yours. The smile that took over his features didn't go unnoticed. His hand was fitting itself between your legs, long fingers rubbing at your folds gently.

Freehand lining the thickness of his head up with your center, and sliding all the way in with one powerful thrust. You let out a loud cry, caught off guard although you expected the intrusion. Gentle lips pressed wet kisses against your skin, allowing you the time you needed to adjust to his large size.

It didn't take long for you to get used to him being this deep inside you. Yeah, he's been gone for weeks, but your body had grown accustomed to him, always recognizing his return. Just a single roll of your hips was enough to get him to fuck forward, the breath he had been holding being let out.

He was quickly losing himself in you, forgetting if he had ever been mad in the first place. It was like he wanted to make sure you felt every last inch of him. Gradually, he was speeding up the movements of his hips, tickling the sweet spots buried deep inside of you before full-blown pounding against them.

Each thrust hit right where you needed him to, high, needy moans fell from your lips. Calls of his name as your nails dug into his back. You could feel yourself climbing higher and higher toward your release. Jungkook's hand grasped tightly on your thigh, lifting your leg to reach deeper inside of you. He was panting, sending you praise, reminding you that you were his.

Nothing else seemed to matter at this moment. Not the fact that you could be caught at any moment, the uncomfortable bend laying in the back seat of his car caused, Taehyung; it was just you two. “Kookie, I'm gonna...” You tried to tell him, the pleasure making its way into your veins and spiking through your body; cutting your sentence short.

He understood you completely, though. “Shh, I got you, baby.” He rasped, eyes finding yours in the cloudy haze of pleasure the two of you had created. He loved to see you like this, fucked out and desperate for him. His hand was sliding between your legs to find your sensitive clit, using his fingers to push you over the edge.

Nails dragged down his strong back, as you clenched down around him. With one final call of his name, you were falling apart, hips bucking and head falling back. The sight of you unraveling, was enough to push Jungkook over the edge. His head ducked into the crook of your neck, teeth, and tongue finding your salty skin. He pounded his hips powerfully into you until his body was stilling.

A drawn-out moan left your lips at the feeling of his thick release coating your pulsing walls. Warmth spread throughout your body as you began to relax under him, breath heaving as your body laid limp against Italian leather.

“Fuck,” Jungkook breathed out a laugh, eyes dropping to watch his dick slip from inside of you. The mixture of your release dripped out of you and he watched, amazed. “You're my perfect girl.” He complimented with a wide smile, droopy eyes lifting to find your smiling face. “I can't believe we just-”

His words were being cut off by a sharp knock against the window just above your head. Your body sprung up, arms wrapping around your body to cover your bare chest. Wide eyes landing on an annoyed-looking Taehyung.

“You can't do that here!” He called through the glass. Jungkook was smirking, reaching for the door to roll down the window. You stopped him, only being able to imagine what type of snarky remark he was about to spew.

“We're leaving!” You called back, officially kissing your weekly tennis lessons goodbye when you saw the scowl on the older male's face. He turned with a roll of his eyes, stalking his way back up the hill. “He's an asshole,” Jungkook noted and you laughed, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Just take me home, want you to fuck me properly.” He perked up at the sound of that, hands quick to adjust his jeans before he was climbing into the front seat. “You lay comfy, I'll have you home in no time.” He grinned, quick with turning the keys in the ignition.

God, you loved this man. With every fiber of your being, you loved him. He was perfect for you and you could never imagine yourself with anyone else. You were sure he felt the same, making sure that you knew it every single day. The time apart only made your heart grow fonder, made every day with him that much more special.

You wouldn't change a thing.

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emptymasks · 3 years

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I’ve seen a lot about your thoughts on Elisabeth and Tanz der Vampire, and they’ve been really helpful getting into those musicals! But you have a huge list of other musicals that people can get into…

So I was wondering if you had any musicals you hadn’t mentioned in a while that you really like or would like to talk about??? (preferably something from your lists that has a blue heart please?)

Oh if only you knew how long the list of European musicals really is... I however have only seen 9 (if I counted right) and I have a lot more that I still need to watch. Oh also, I only put the blue hearts on any musicals that I was providing multiple links for so people could see which version I reccoment the most highly. If a musical only had one link and didn't have a blue heart it doesn't mean I didn't like it.

I've watched: Mozart das Musical, Elisabeth das Musical, Tanz der Vampire, 3 Musketiers, Mozart L'Opéra Rock, Dracula (the Graz production), Rebecca das Musical, Roméo et Juliette and Schikaneder.

If you enjoyed those two you're likely to enjoy Rebecca! It's written by the same composer/lyricist team as Elisabeth and Mozart (and same lyricist as Tanz der Vampire - though if you're listening to any German musical, original or translated, 90% of the time the lyrics will have been done by Michael Kunze that man is everywhere). The Stuttgart production has my favourite set design of any musical! Well... Actually probably. There are so many big set pieces it's insane, way more than I've seen in some Broadway and West End musicals. You can tell so much work went into it and the visual effects that I won't spoil if you don't know the plot but if you know the plot you know what I mean by the effects at the end are so good and I didn't expect them at all and I freaked out so much the first time I watched it. Jan Ammann as Maxim in the Stuttgart production is the best Maxim. No I won't take any argument. Other actors feel a bit one-dimensional to me, but the way Maxim acts at times comes from trauma and some actors and productions seem to forget that, but Jan really goes for it and his Maxim is a lot more sympathetic and I just want to give him a hug. Pia Douwes as Mrs Danvers, if you've seen her in Elisabeth what more do I need to say, she's amazing. A musical goddess. Her Danny is a bit more wild than some, but she kills it. My favourite video, which I put the blue heart next to, has understudy Christina Patten as Ich/I, but I adore her she's my favourite. She adds some spunk to Ich in act 2 and her voice is so pretty and aaaa. I just love these three actors together in these roles.

Roméo et Juliette is another favourite of mine! It's hard to choose which one to recommend, but it has to be the original 2000/2001 production because of the sweetness and chemistry and voices of Damien Sargue and Cecilia Cara as Romeo and Juliet. They're so pretty and work together so well. The only reason I say it's hard to pick is Mercutio. I adore him, but in the original production they cut out a song they had planned for him and he doesn't really do much at all? In the 2010 revival they gave him two more songs and you care about him so much more and John Eyzen plays such a good Mercutio. So I'd recommend the original but if you want to like Mercutio more, which you should he's amazing, I'd recommend watching at least clips of John's. It's an interesting musical because all productions are non-replica and also change around the order of songs, add or take away characters, all sorts. The Hungarian production is also very popular and I'm sure it's great, I just haven't' gotten around to watching it yet.

Mozart das Musical was the first non-English language musicals I watched so I have a fondness for it, but it's not my favourite. However, I do realise I have forgotten most of the songs and the few I've gone back and listened to are better than I remember.

Dracula isn't super popular and I understand why, I don't love the plot of the Dracula/Mina romance in it, however. I do love this musical because despite how I find the plot lacking, the songs are so good! At least, I love them. And the actors are all doing a great job. And it's one of the few Dracula adaptions to keep Quincy Morris so they get bonus points for that.

Mozart L'Opéra Rock and modern French musicals... This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but they're often more like pop-rock operas now. So if you're not into musicals with that style of music it might not be for you, but I still enjoyed it even though I didn't think I would because of the style of music. Mozart and Salieri's chemistry is very good, Salieri's bisexual crisis song is iconic, actually all of Salieri's songs are iconic.

Schikaneder... eh. I didn't like it that much and I didn't really like any of the songs. There's no English subtitles, but someone sent me the entire English synopsis and I watched it with a German friend so I had double the help of understanding it. Doesn't mean others might not like it, just none of the songs stood out to me and I had no desire to listen to any of them again. It's by Steven Scharwz of Wicked fame and I love Wicked, but I didn't love this.

3 Musketiers!! God it's so underrated and not spoken about within the European musical fandom that I even forget about it and literally forgot to write about it earlier in this post. It's a Dutch musical (though did also have a German production) and it's really good!? Faces you might know are Pia Douwes as Milady de Winter, Stanley Burlseon as Cardinal Richeliu (Netherlands Der Tod in Elisabeth), Henk Poort as Athos (Netherlands Phantom and Jean Valjean). The dialgoue is funny, the songs are good, some of the set pieces have no right to exist in this tiny musical?? They made this giant boat and pelt the actors with rain just for one 5 minute song and then we never see the boat again? And while I recommend the Dutch one because Dutch musicals deserve more love and it has official English subtitles!! Official ones, not fanmade! I have the DVD and it comes with English subtitles (and Dutch and German subtitles) which is so nice. The German version is also good, good cast, Pia came back and Uwe Kroger as Richeliu and omg they rearranged the songs and the German arrangement of Nicht Aus Stein is insane and amazing and frankly iconic.

That's all of the ones I have watched. Next on my list to watch are Rudolf and Notre Dame de Paris, both of which I have listened to some songs from and already love (I've listened to way too much of Notre Dame de Paris and am so in love).

I want to start organising streams where I'll host the musical either by getting the video from Youtube or my own files and anyone who wants to join can come along and watch with us, chat with us if you want or just watch there's no pressure to chat. I thought about doing weekly streams? This would also make me finally watch some of the ones I've been meaning to for ages. But I keep wondering about time zones. I'm in the UK and would want to stream at about 11pm at the latest (11pm BST/GMT+1 as we’re in daylight savings at the moment, if the streams continue past the end of October which would be wild then I’ll make a note of the time change that would be to 11pm GMT), which I know can work for other UK and Europeans, but for any Americans would be in the afternoon. So, I wondered if doing it on a weekend would be better? Then it doesn't matter if it's in the afternoon? Maybe Saturday evenings then? It would either be Saturday evenings UK time or Friday evenings UK time. What do you guys think? If people are down then I'll make a separate post with a list of what we'll be watching each week and if anything happens to me that means I can't stream one week then everything will just get pushed back a week, but I don't see that as likely to happen. And I'll only be streaming those that have English subtitles, so don't worry about not being able to understand anything.

edit: am also open to 10pm bst if others want that, im just trying to think of what time works best for everyone so sorry if 11pm is a little late for europeans, i know 10pm could be a little early for americans. also in case it sounded like these are the only musicals i will be streaming, thats not so, ive got more than just the ones mentioned on this list!

(Tagging some people who I know are or might be interested in streams to see what you think of that plan: @sirona-art @ringwraith100 @tanz-der-trash @smilingwoland @the-weird-dane @witchgaye @ami-fidele @kisstheghouls @looking-4-happiness @ladysapphire928 @sloanedestler @tinywound @persephonaae @phoenixdewinter @uwucoffee @freshbloodandgothicism )

#european musicals #mozart das musical #3 musketiers #dracula the musical #retj #romeo et juliette #mozart l'opera rock #mozart l'opéra rock #musical theatre #musicals #broadway #musicaledit #rebecca das musical #rebecca the musical #answeredasks #non english language musicals

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bouncyirwin · 3 years

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So after reading Knock Knock, Let the Devil in again (I can’t praise you enough with how good that story is ♥️) and I’m so invested in the the dynamic between Shikamaru, Sakura, and Kakashi!

And because I have a question (and I hope I’m not bothering you by asking this 😭) how do you think Kakashi and Shikamaru would react if Sakura either came back from a mission seriously injured or if they found her seriously injured from a mission?

Hiii, thank you so much for this ask, I’m always so ready to gush about these three!

When I read this ask, inspiration quite literally slammed into me and I churned this out in a sprint session. Oops.

Word Count: 2,126 words

I present to you a one-shot in the knock knock-verse.

It was too early in the day to function, yet Shikamaru was in the Hokage’s office bustling about, feeling only half-human as he guzzled on his third coffee. “Fuckin’ paperwork,” he muttered disdainfully at the sight of an ungodly pile marked with his name.

That had to violate some natural law. How this became Shikamaru’s routine was beyond him.

Once upon a time, he professed that his deepest wish was to lead a mediocre life. And here he was.

Tsunade showed up ten minutes late, visibly drunk and doing very little to conceal it. “Morning,” she tossed over her shoulder and made a beeline for the coffee machine.

“Hokage-sama,” Shikamaru said, studying the dark circles under her eyes and her ashen pallor. “You look …”

He clamped his mouth shut. Was it worth getting assigned a D-rank to let her know she looked like shit? Probably not.

“Save it kid, I know,” she waved a casual hand and slumped in her chair. “Couldn’t care less with the night I pulled.”

“Drinking again, Hokage-sama?” he inquired with polite interest.

“Ha,” she said. “I wish.”

When he raised an eyebrow, she elaborated, slumping even further in her chair. “Sakura,” she pinched the bridge of her nose. “They brought her back yesterday.”

Shikamaru’s heart sank. “Brought her back?”

“Yes, there was an ambush and she was badly injured—cracked every one of her ribs, that idiot. And the hospital was out of B-positive blood so Shizune had to sit the healing session out to donate blood. Nearly ran myself dry trying to keep her breathing…” Tsunade was scrubbing at her face but Shikamaru wasn’t listening anymore—he could barely hear her over the deafening roar of his heartbeat.

“Is she alive?” he demanded once he found his voice. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Yes, but she’s going to need plenty of rest—” the rest of her sentence remained a mystery for Shikamaru tore out of the room with a single-minded focus.

In the space between heartbeats, rationality was tossed out of the window. It left behind a desperate and half-crazed person—he needed to see her, to hear her heartbeat, to see the lively green of her eyes and he wasn’t going to rest until it happened.

He burst through the hospital doors undoubtedly looking like he’d escaped an asylum. The nurse he cornered shot him a bewildered look. “Sir, are you—” she began to say when he cut her off.

“Haruno Sakura,” he demanded breathlessly. “Her room. Where can I find her?”

“Sir,” she attempted again, sounding a little exasperated. “Haruno-san just underwent extensive surgery, she’s not allowed visitors, only family members can see her.”

Shikamaru pinned her with a no-nonsense look. “Akane-san,” he read off her name tag. “By order of the Hokage, I’m here to see Haruno Sakura.”

Akane shuffled nervously. “Do you have an official slip?”

He arched an eyebrow at her, as if to say ‘really?’.

“I-I might get in trouble,” her eyes shifted unsurely. “I need to put you down as a relative and you’re… what would I mark you down as, sir?”

It occurred to him a second later that he was being a total ass. But rationality had already fled. He was now a mess of frayed nerves.

The toddler bawling in the background wasn’t helping his case, and neither was the frantic husband demanding to see his wife at the reception, babbling about … oh.

Shikamaru turned back to the nurse, and before he realised what he was saying, he blurted. “Her husband. Mark me down as her husband.”

Akane blinked. “Oh.”

Shikamaru stared her down, daring her to argue with him. But she simply nodded and scribbled something on her chart. “Right. Of course. Follow me.”

As they stalked through clinical hallways, Shikamaru’s heart rose in a crescendo, worry and nervousness swirling in his chest in a toxic mix. What would he see upon reaching her room? Was she in pain? Was she even lucid? Gods, what if she was in a coma? What if she’d hurt herself so irreparably that it cost her career?

His mind raced with sickly thoughts until his stomach roiled and his face tinged green.

Akane stopped at room 217 and there she was.

“Oh gods,” Shikamaru whispered.

She was hooked to so many wires. Oxygen tubes and an IV and a heart monitor and tubes he didn’t even recognise. She looked frail and broken, too small amidst white sheets and beeping monitors.

He heard Akane quietly slip out of the room and was glad for it because his knees nearly buckled.

Sakura wasn’t awake. Hell, she didn’t even look alive, her face so pale where it wasn’t bruised blue and purple.

Numbly, his feet carried him to her side, his breath a short and rapid thing that barely saturated his lungs.

There was blood caked beneath her fingernails and in the cracks of her lips. His eyes stung faintly as they slid over to the heart monitor.

It was too slow.

“Oh god,” he said again, every cell in his body congested with fear.

He was afraid to even reach out and touch her, lest she broke apart under his fingertips. Delicately, ever so delicately and with trembling fingers, he ghosted a light stroke across the apple of her cheek.

“Sakura…” he said feebly, wishing her eyes would just open.

Except they didn’t. And her heart monitor droned on sluggishly in the background, crawling heartbeats that served more in adding to his anxiety than diminishing it.

It was beating. But it wasn't beating enough. What if it stopped beating?

Shikamaru wasn’t prepared. She wasn’t allowed to die. Not yet. Not ever. He didn’t care what laws governed this cursed world, this was Sakura, she was spring incarnated, and she wasn’t allowed to die.

His fingers curled around her hand, and he wished for the first time in his life that he could heal. That he could bleed strength into her the way she did to him.

It was getting difficult to breathe. What if she died?

What then?

Fuck, he hadn’t even told her he loved her.

His vision swam, rendering the room a splash of colours and pink. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t breathe.

In the muddled daze of anxieties and fears, Shikamaru wished he had the foresight to grab Kakashi.

He’d never needed an anchor more than he did in that second.

Kakashi was having an incredibly shitty day.

His coffee machine broke down, he spilled tea over his mission report and he mixed a black shirt with his coloured laundry and now half of his clothes were beyond repair.

“Dammit,” he sighed, tossing his book aside. He couldn’t even read, busy as he was dwelling on his ruined laundry.

He took one dispassionate look at his soggy report and groaned. “What a mess,” he’d actually attempted to do this one on time. Served him right for breaking his routine.

Kakashi grabbed his weapons holster and stepped out for some much needed air. Maybe he should just turn in a tea-flavoured report—perhaps if he offered Tsuande a bottle of sake she’d make an exception and accept it.

He made a beeline to her office, remembering he was due for a debrief. But what he found upon his arrival wasn’t what he expected.

Tsunade was shouting to Shizune, clearly exasperated: “—and he just upped and left! I’m his Hokage, and he upped and left!”

“Maah…” Kakashi began unsurely.

Tsunade’s gaze cut to him. “Hatake, there you are,” she huffed. “I’m too fucking hungover for this. We’re one man down, I need someone to look over these reports.”

Kakashi frowned, finally noticing how empty her office looked. “Where’s Shikamaru…?”

“The idiot left,” Tsunade growled, raising goosebumps on his arms. “I told him I spent all night healing her, what did he think, that I’d leave her to die? Fucking hell.”

“Leave who to die?” Kakashi said, confused. “What happened?”

“Sakura happened,” Tsunade ranted tiredly. “They brought her back almost half dead, I’ve been patching her up for the better part of eight hours and this is how I’m rewarded.”

But Kakashi had stopped listening after ‘half dead’. Half dead? “Half … dead?” he echoed, his mouth dry.

No. This wasn’t happening.

This wasn’t happening.

“Yes,” Tsunade sighed. “But I operated on her and she’s going to be fine.”

Kakashi barely heard the words. His brain was a string of very adamant denial. No, no, no, no.

He didn’t want it to be true—all those years he had been certain, was so sure that it was him, that he was the reason the people he loved always died. That he was a curse to those he cared about.

Every person he loved came back in a body bag.

Fuck.

Kakashi turned tail, a sudden manic urge to see her rising unbearably in his chest. What if Tsunade was lying, what if Sakura wasn’t fine? What if she was fine, but she died anyway?

Fear pumped through his veins, rendering him dizzy. This was his worst nightmare come to life—how could he have forgotten that people, even those that could mend bones and heal what was broken, were so damn breakable?

His legs couldn’t carry him quickly enough.

He didn’t waste time interrogating the nurses for her whereabouts, he knew her scent like she was a part of him. It led him to her now, her unique sweetness tainted with blood and antiseptic.

Gods, he was going to be sick.

He nearly ripped the door off its hinges in his haste to get to her.

Shikamaru was already there, looking wrecked, looking worse than Kakashi had ever seen him. “Is she—”

He couldn’t even say it.

“They … they said they don’t know when she’ll wake up,” Shikamaru whispered hollowly.

Kakashi felt the ground crumbling beneath his feet. “No,” he whispered, leaning back against the wall when he teetered off balance.

His hip jarred against the doorknob but Kakashi barely registered the sting. Barely anything registered beyond the fear-terror-fear coursing through his veins like poison. “Please, no,” he said.

This couldn’t be happening again.

His father and Obito and Rin and Minato-sensei—hadn’t they been enough? Was Sakura going to be another name on the too long list of losses that haunted him?

He really was going to be sick. He clenched his jaw against the reflex, forcing his brain out of the dizzying tornado of anxieties. His gaze focused on Shikamaru, the only other person that mattered as much.

He didn’t look good at all, pale and shaking and appearing ready to fall apart.

The sight of him was strangely grounding.

Kakashi found his elusive strength, located his knees under him and was at his side in the next second.

“Shikamaru,” he rasped, clutching the other man’s arm.

“She looks dead,” Shikamaru whispered. “I … I …”

Words eluded him.

Kakashi tugged at his arm, drawing Shikamaru against him. He went without a fight, slumping against Kakashi’s chest like a puppet whose strings were cut.

“It’s going to be okay,” Kakashi lied, surprised by how much conviction he could bleed into it when it was for someone else’s benefit. “She’s going to be fine.”

Shikamaru shook in his hold, his shoulders minutely trembling. But just as suddenly, his body calmed down and he gripped tightly onto Kakashi’s middle. “What if she isn’t?”

“She will be,” Kakashi stressed because … anything else was not an option. “It’s Sakura. She punched a goddess in the face.”

Shikamaru let out a short, pained laugh against him. “Gods, don’t remind me; what a reckless idiot.”

“It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Kakashi confessed in a soft murmur against Shikamaru’s hair. He tightened his hold on him, drawing strength from the warmth of his body. “As beautiful as the two of you together.”

Lean fingers dug in his back. “I’m glad you’re here,” Shikamaru said sincerely. “I’m glad you came. Fuck, I think I’m gonna cry.”

“You can cry,” Kakashi soothed, sinking his fingers in lush, dark hair. “Hell, I might cry.”

Shikamaru let out a wet chuckle. “Yeah.”

Kakashi’s face bowed, nuzzling the side of his head as he took a shuddering breath. He clutched Shikamaru closely, his breath shallow and his heart a warbling mess in his chest.

He couldn’t think about if she died. He would die, then, if not from sorrow then from a broken psyche. It was easier to focus on the beeping machines and Shikamaru’s sure, thudding heart. Kakashi tuned in on every shuddering breath, his palm mapping his expanding ribs.

His focus narrowed down to his senses, to Shikamaru, to Sakura’s fighting, beating heart and prayed like he never had before.

She was going to be alright.

She had to be.

#bouncyirwin writes #kakasakushika #kakasaku #shikasaku #kakashika #naruto #angst #hurt/comfort #knock knock let the devil in #sakura haruno #kakashi hatake #Shikamaru nara

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hello-yue-here · 3 years

Text

thank you @chiptrillino for tagging me in a wip game!

not quite sure what the rules are but based off of your AMAZING POST OF ART WIPS (check it out here yall chip is so talented) ive decided to just share some parts of my writing wips that i rlly like because i cannot draw whatsoever lmao

enjoy some lil snippets hehe

from heart don't stand a chance:

"Zuko couldn’t get over her eyes. She was looking past the camera towards the man who took it. Zuko could see clear as day the love she held for Sokka in her gaze.

It was a perfect moment that Sokka had captured. No wonder held it with him at all times. If someone had looked at Zuko like that, he’d never want to see anything again.

As he took in the photograph, Sokka sat next to him in silence. His hand was clutching the ring around his neck again in his fist, pressing it close to his mouth as he peered over Zuko’s shoulder to look. Zuko turned to him to compliment the picture and saw a sad fondness lingering in his eyes."

this is a scene i wrote a while ago thats gonna appear in a much later chapter. but yeah. more yue angst for you guys im so sorry.

from i love you (and that's all i really know):

"Mister Sokka," a little voice wishpered in his ear as he felt tiny pokes on his cheek, "Wake up Mister Sokka."

"Good morning to you too Izumi," Sokka responded wearily as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He looked towards the little girl who was standing on her tippy toes to see over the edge of the bed and poke his face until he rose.

She smiled at him once she realized he was awake.

"Can we have pancakes?" She asked shyly, hiding her mouth just below the edge of the bed as she looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

That look was going to be dangerous for him later on, he could aready tell.

"Sure thing, Izumi, just let me sleep for five more minutes, mkay?" He asked as he shut his eyes again. He was exhausted from last nights events, and the sun had barely risen. How did Zuko do this?"

this is a scene from the next chapter of this fic. so much sokka and izumi bonding you guys are gonna explode hehehe.

from cherry (the mailee fic i wont shut up about that is now a whopping 19 pages):

"Mai never had to guess with Ty Lee. She always knew when Ty Lee was happy about something because she would use an obnoxious amount of exclamation points. She would send gifs of people or cartoons making outlandish expressions whenever she wanted to react to Mai’s text with a specific facial expression. Sometimes Ty Lee would even send voice memos whenever her thoughts became too long, or she got too excited about a story that her fingers couldn’t type as fast as she could speak."

hehe i love mailee.

from yours (the mailee sorority fic that i promise i did not forget about):

"Mai lifted her head off the pillow again and met Zuko’s eyes. She studied his impassive expression, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. He did seem like he missed Mai and Azula, so maybe he did really just want to catch up with them.

But Mai wasn’t going to give up a golden opportunity like this.

“Tell us everything about the boy toy as well and you’ve got yourself a deal,” Mai said.

Zuko rolled his eyes and sighed, “Ugh, fine. And his name is Sokka by the way.”

“Nuance. You also have to wake up Azula.”

“No chance in hell,” Zuko scoffed, “You’re the roommate and her fellow ‘pong princess,’ wake-up duty is all yours.”

“If she murders me, it’s your fault. She’s a bitch when she’s hungover.”

“Whatever you say, Mai,” Zuko grinned before returning back to his phone."

i have decided that zuko is a little shit for this fic and no one can stop me.

from Where'd All the Time Go? (the yuekka fic that i have severe writers block with that i also promis i have not forgotten about):

"“Sokka I really think you need to take a moment and-”

“I am fine Aang, I don’t have time for a feelings talk right now. Right now I need to find the fucking chief of this damn place.” His words came out harsher than he meant, but he didn’t have the time to dwell on that.

Before Sokka could run off again to continue his search, a hand grabbed his arm. One of Arnook’s advisors, Malina, had started dragging him towards the podium.

“Do you not realize how late you are for this Sokka? The ceremony was supposed to begin with your speech nearly an hour ago-” she hissed at him as she pulled him along through the crowd.

“Malina I’m sorry but I really need to speak with Arnook it is urgent-”

“This damn speech of yours is what’s urgent right now Sokka, you can speak with Arnook later but the guests are getting antsy so you need to give your speech right. Now.”

“But-”

“Now.”

Maline shoved Sokka towards the podium and suddenly all eyes were on him. Every guest in attendance had their focus solely on Sokka."

homeboy is stressed in this scene. things are slowly going to shit in this chapter. i promise i will update this before the end of the year. i swear. im so sorry.

from a currently untitled jetko/sukka boiling rock fic:

"“Oh good, you survived after all,” She said in a mocking tone.

Jet didn’t answer. He knew anything he said would be used against him. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know what was happening. But he would be damned if he showed that weakness in front of the fire nation.

“I was told you were more talkative than this,” the girl mused. There was something familiar about her, “my informants were very detailed when discussing your little teashop romance.”

I knew it. Jet snarled in his mind, That bastard betrayed me."

i want this fic to be a little darker but idk how good i am at writing darker fics because i love fluff and humor too much. this could be good angst practice for me.

from a toph and sokka fic that i wrote a while back to help me cope w some shit that i dont know if ill ever post:

"“Sokka? Are you still there?” Toph asked, the slightest hint of concern began to slip into their voice

“Tell me a story,” he was trembling. Despite all of his efforts to sound calm, he knew his voice came out trembling and scratchy and pathetic-

“Is everything okay? You don’t sound too hot,” Toph said through the phone.

Breathe, Sokka, breathe. You don’t want them to be worried, you just need to calm down.

“Please, Toph, I just,” he said through shaky breaths that weren’t nearly deep enough for him to be getting enough oxygen, “I just need a distraction. I just need to hear your voice okay?”"

nonbinary toph anyone?

from a 10 things i hate about you kataang and zukka au:

"“What? Something on my face?” the guy asked deadpanned. He rubbed at his scar as if he were wiping off a smudge of mustard, and Aang’s face went pale.

“Stop scaring the sophomores Zuko, this one’s new. He won’t get your… humor… just yet,” Ms. Wu said as she waved Aang off again.

“I’m hurt that you’d imply I’m not funny, Wu. I’m hilarious,” the senior, Zuko, said as he walked past Aang.

Aang let out a sigh of relief knowing that this Zuko guy didn’t seem all that offended by his awkwardness, and darted out of the room."

zuko is a little shit part 2. the amount of sarcasm i have dripping off of heath ledger zuko is glorious. let zuko be a little shit. i havent added to this in months but when i finish some of my other wips i cant wait to get back to this.

i have more wips and drafts saved but none of them have anything juicy or funny or interesting yet because all of them are like less than three pages so far

but yeah, heres a good chunk of sneaky peakys from my wips!

I hope you liked them!

anyone who wants to do this can totally go for it. imma tag @ambykinns @lumities and @flowers-inthepieshop (only if you all want too!!) because this was fun :)

#liv talks about writing #liv talks ab fanfic #liv wips #liv fics #i love sharing my writing #especially when i have a bit of a block going on with well.... every fic #maybe this will give me inspiration!!!#i love sharing my writing im proud of these little snippets and i hope you all likes them as well :)#atla #avatar: the last airbender

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thinking1bee · 3 years

Text

When it Reigns Part 6

Requested by Anonymous

Pairings: Kara Danvers x Reader

Tags: Angst, Kryptonian!Reader, Parent!Reader, Parent!Kara, Estranged Parent, Graphic Depictions of Injuries, Blood, Humor, Bad Dreams, Memory Loss

Everything Taglist: @sammy90682 @nobody13 @owloftheshadows @captain-josslett @camslightstories @worldovart @finleyfray @acertainredhead @sammm9068 @reginassecretlover

You followed Elizabeth outside of her home and into the barn.

“Where are you taking…”

Your question died on your lips as soon as you voiced it. Inside of the wooden structure was a spaceship, dusty and forgotten in the hay, and Elizabeth went around to turn on more lights so that you could see it better.

“You asked about your birth mom. I lied. I didn’t adopt you,” she explained. “I found you in this. One day, this crashed a mile from where we are now and when I looked inside, I found you, a giggling baby.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, a million questions going through your mind at a mile a minute. “I don’t understand,” you finally said.

“I didn’t either. I didn’t know where you were from or who left you in this thing, or even why. When I saw you, you looked so helpless that I took you home.”

You stared at her with your mouth agape. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“I swore that I would tell you when you turned 18.”

And then that never happened because she got kicked you out. You pressed your fingers against your temples to assuage the growing headache.

“I thought that maybe, you would be better off on your own not knowing.”

“That I’m an alien???” you demanded.

“Y/n, all I wanted was for you to have a normal life.”

You couldn’t stop the scoff or the roll of your eyes. She’d flip out if she knew that you were married to one, and thanks to her, this woman that dared to call herself a mother, your life had been anything but normal.

You eyed the space pod, your hand reaching out tentatively to touch the metal, and like the ship recognized you, it powered up, the engine whirring to life as the ship lit up. You gasped in shock as you tried to absorb what was happening. You kept touching it as you circled around it, feeling the contours of the edges and bends. Then you watched as a latch of some kind opened. Out of it came some sort of crystalline rod. You approached it and reached out to touch it. When you did, it too, lit up, and after wiggling it from side to side, it disconnected from the pedestal it was seated on. You twisted and turned it in your hands, watching as a bright light flashed on and off inside of it. It was a beacon, a map that would tell you where to go next.

You nodded in determination as your grip tightened around it. You knew what you had to do next. Elizabeth sighed and you looked at her.

“Be careful,” she whispered to you. All you could do was nod. In all the years that you knew her, this was the most helpful she had been. A part of you wanted to say thank you but…you didn’t want her to think that you owed her now. Besides you were doing just fine without her and as far as you were concerned, it was going to stay that way. You turned towards your car and left her there to live all alone.

***

It wasn’t too long before you found yourself in the middle of nowhere. Literally, the middle of nowhere. The beacon brought you to the middle of the desert, and as you neared your destination, the slow flashing inside the beacon turned into blinking. That had to mean that you were getting closer, right?

You were walking, the hot sun beating down on you and you could have killed for water. You wiped the sweat from your eyes and cursed the sun. It was way too hot for this.

Suddenly, the ground started to shake. Your immediate thought was an earthquake, after all those were common in California, but the idea was immediately dashed the moment rocks started to grow from the ground. In the shape of monoliths, rocks started to sprout in varying directions, cross crossing and zigzagging on top of each other until it formed a structure. You watched, with your mouth hanging open, as you stared at the towering fortress. It was intimidating and it radiated mysteriousness and power.

You took a deep breath, and with trepidation, walked inside. The inside was dark and dank, despite having just grown right before your eyes. You walked around, looking at everything, and noticed a strange insignia carved into the base of the rock. You continued to look, observing the ominous looking place when you saw a particularly flat slab of rock with a hole in it. You looked at the beacon in your hands and then at the hole, noticing that the hole had the same shape as the beacon. Coincidence? You approached the slab and fit the beacon inside of the available opening until you heard a click. The moment it happened, the room lit up and right in front of you, a figure appeared. You stared at it, a sense of familiarity and fear filling you as you both recognized the figure and backed away from it.

“You’ve come. I imagine that you have questions and I have answers.”

“I know you, you whispered. “Ive seen you in my dreams. What are you?”

You didn’t expect an answer. The figured never talked, and you wondered why you were talking to it now, but when the figure removed the hood of its cloak to reveal its face, you gasped.

“I am science. I am a friend.”

Okay? Well, she finally said something to you. This was very real. This was not in your head. All of this was happening, and it was happening so fast.

“Where am I?”

“This is the Fortress of Sanctuary, a building made from a piece of your dying planet. A piece of Krypton.”

Your eyes widened. “Krypton? Oh my god, my daughter was right. She said that I had powers a-and I didn’t want to believe it. I’m like Supergirl.”

“You are so much more than that,” the woman said.

“Then who am I?” you asked.

“You are a culmination of centuries of work, a being designed for one purpose: to execute justice.”

“So, I’m a hero?” you asked, clarifying that you heard her right.

“They will not call you that. They will call you WorldKiller. They will try to contain your power, but they will fail. You will show no mercy to those who oppose you. Your justice will burn the world of man.”

Horror filled you as she said her words, your eyes widening as she spoke with nonchalance. She made it seem like you two were discussing the weather over a cup of coffee, but no. She just told you that you were going to burn the world to the ground! Of course, you were going to have some choice words for that.

“No, no!” you blurted. “I’m not a Worldkiller. I have a life, a daughter, a wife! I have a company to run, I ave to be there for my family! I’m a good person”

The woman frowned. “Your offspring, among other things, was an unfortunate error.”

You whipped your head around to look at her, your fear immediately morphing to anger.

“Your powers were supposed to manifest when you came of age, but she delayed the realization of your destiny.”

“Angel is not an error!” you snapped.

“You will soon forget her,” she continued saying. “You will forget all mortal trappings.”

Forget Angel? Forget Kara? No! That couldn’t happen. They were the reason you kept going. Without them, who were you? What were you?

“No this can’t be right?” you whispered in fear. You ran your hands through your hair as you swallowed thickly.

The woman smiled, her dark eyes radiating pure evil, and you saw it. You could see that this woman had a whole agenda planned out and somehow, you were at the epicenter of it. Coming here was a mistake. Elizabeth was right. You were better off not knowing anything about yourself.

“It is time for you to emerge,” she said to you. “It’s time for you to Reign.”

The moment she said those words, something happened to you. A shrieking noise, one loud and powerful, assaulted your ears. It grew louder and louder, the noise getting more and more deafening until it was all encompassing, until it was all you could hear. You grunted and gasped as you covered your ears, but it didn’t work. It was like the horrendous sound was coming from inside of you. A horrible foreign warmth settled over you brain like a blanket. Something was trying to take you over.

“No!” you screamed. “NO!”

But it wasn’t enough. No matter how much you fought, you were losing this battle. You slapped repeatedly at your head, gripping it with shaking hands as you willed the noise to go away, but it didn’t. Slowly your world faded to black, and all you remembered was Kara and Angel, and how you couldn’t bare the thought of forgetting about them.

***

When you stood up again, the noise was gone, and you faced the mysterious woman as your eyes glowed a scarlet red. You were no longer Y/n Danvers, but an instrument of destruction designed to carry out and fulfill your destiny. You were Reign and you were ready.

“I have awoken,” you whispered in Kryptonian.

Part 7

#supergirl fanfic #kara danvers x reader #reader insert #angst #injuries #blood #humor #bad dreams #memory loss #estranged parent

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