#which raises the question: if everything we ever do or choose is determined by causes both internal and external then can we say that we

[grand-line-shenanigans]

Anyways, philosophy.

[mdhwrites]

So... What’s Wrong With Stringbean?

So first I’m just going to say I think their design is cute and that the palisman itself did nothing wrong. There’s nothing wrong with loving them because they’re just a little guy. But I’ve been seeing people talk about Stringbean being too special or clearly just special because it’s the main character’s palisman and I think people will bring up one argument about it when the problem is, well... EVERYTHING. In aggregate. About Stringbean. The short version of this is that she is indeed every animal and clearly stronger than ANY other palisman we’ve ever seen but the flipside of that coin is that it’s also the palisman with the least of the user’s will inside of them and has consistently been at least warping if not breaking the rules of Palisman every time she gets brought up. All of this is what causes them to feel like a Mary Sue moment for Luz. To go into each element individually: Has a bunch of special powers: This one is the easy and obvious one which is why so many people are bringing it up but it is valid to ask: Why is Stringbean SO POWERFUL? Why is her magic just incredible from go? My response would be... You know the show you’re watching, right? Asking why any bit of magic is strong is a lost cause, especially while we still have no idea what dictates Luz’s glyphs and those already let her become literally one of the strongest witches in the Isles without training. This is nothing new, just kind of a flashy display of it. What is the source of its power?:

The Bat Queen makes it out that the strength of palisman and user is conviction. The way your personal life’s goal speaks to and empowers the Palisman. This should mean the more emotion, determination and purpose you put into the palisman, either when carved or when accepted, the more power there should be there. And this doesn’t need to be a super specific goal. Willow’s is effectively “To be able to defend my friends,” but that’s still actionable, one Willow can work towards herself and clear of purpose. Luz literally didn’t even choose her palisman’s form. She had such little conviction in what it would be that she let it choose. Yes, it’s meant to be sweet and nice but like... Can Palisman grow? If someone else carved an egg but also had firm purpose, would it hatch immediately? These are objects as much as they are living beings, they’re literally made of wood, so what exactly are the rules of going “Fuck it, my Palisman ISN’T ALIVE YET?” And then there’s her conviction which... It’s summoned by a statement about the importance of her. I have been lit on fire for this but here me out: Luz says that all she has ever wanted was to be understood. This is the statement that summons Stringbean. It raises PLENTY of questions as to do with what the fuck people have shown her throughout the series but that’s not really the point when talking about Stringbean. The point with Stringbean is... How is the Palisman supposed to help? It is a goal that explicitly as stated, can only be achieved through external validation. Yes, you CAN read into it being about internal validation but the framing of the moment, part of it being Luz realizing Camila is also a nerd, the fact that it happens right after Camila takes back literally the one time she has ever ‘judged’ (Luz accidentally assaulted people with snakes. At that point Camila was actually being a good mom by saying “Maybe something needs to change.”) her daughter for her actions and interests, all speaks to it being about external validation and especially validation from her mother. What sort of goal is that? How is Stringbean supposed to help? What would ever happen to Luz if she actually felt understood? And why does that cause Stringbean to be so powerful? It also sucks allegorically.

“I want to be understood!” This sort of goal and character revelation normally comes with the dropping of masks and a firmness in who you are. This is because to be understood, one needs to actually SEE the real you. You have to be open and honest. You have to be yourself or that which people understand will only be a facsimile of you. And they made it A: A snake, a creature who is usually related to deception, lies, venom, subterfuge (which seeing what Luz has been doing for the last like five episodes...) and B: A FUCKING SHAPESHIFTER. I shouldn’t even have to explain that one. I should just be able to point at that, point at her goal and go “WHAT!?” And again, this is what led to her getting so much more power than anyone else with a palisman has had. One that is more special. Literally the only aspect of Stringbean that works is... It feels like something Luz made. But also she explicitly didn’t make it. Which makes how much it seems like something Luz would made honestly worse. It fits her like a glove, despite her having put in close to no effort to try and make it fit. Despite her rejecting putting a piece of herself in it and leaving it to decide what it would be on its own while trapped in an egg. It is the facsimile of compassion. Instead of bringing to life a companion from inert wood who you hold dear and have a deep bond with, she says something that sounds sweet before leaving it in the dark and just waiting for when it’s ready to help her. Ready to ‘get’ her enough to work with her as it’s portrayed. In other words, it sucks. But the Palisman never did anything wrong. Instead, it was the writers and Luz continuously kicking it down the line until they can pull something out of their ass. It doesn’t matter if it actually makes sense for the character’s arc, or the lore of the show or even in relation to other examples of it. It just kept getting told to incubate until finally it was time for it to do what the plot demanded and to further validate a character who no one was questioning. And that’s why Stringbean is bad.

[thebadboyfanclub]

Fire and Water (Massimo x Reader) Pt.1

So I told you guys I want to start a series and honestly as soon as I started I couldn't stop so I really hope you like it cause I have so many ideas for this. Please let me know if you liked it!

-

"This is the second time they were able to get to us"

Marios voice was stern, cold, angry some would say. Massimo leaned further back to his leather chair, his left hand reaching up to his temples so his fingers can gently rub in order to give some relief to this mild migraine. 

After Laura's safe return his enemies were testing him, they found his Achilles heel and they would not stop unless one of them died.

"Why don't you ask for her, the (y/l/n) family-"

"They won't agree, she will not approve it" the last sentence was barely above a whisper. Massimo was in much need of an alliance, however he was smart enough to know that asking the (y/l/n) to protect his wife was disrespectful to say the least, he couldn't possibly do that to her.

"Let's just try, if they find out we have that type of protection they will retreat… let me talk to her"

Mario loved (y/n), how could he not? He was there for her birth, baptism, birthdays and any type of celebration. Her father- god rest his soul- was good friends with Massimo's dad, she was the second child but she was the smartest, sure her brother was the muscle but she was the brains, her gaze was as sharp as a knife, the determination she had was written all over her face ever since she was a toddler.

Massimo huffed, questions racing through his brain, if Mario got through her then that would mean two things, one is that his problems will be over, second is that he will have to come face to face with her and that made his blood run cold.

"Fine, make the arrangements for your trip to Albania, leave today if you can"

"Already done, I fly in an hour"

Massimo smiled. Of course Mario knew Massimo would agree, at least he let him have the illusion of choosing which Massimo was grateful for.

"Let me know how it goes"

-

A knock interrupted (y/n)'s train of thought, she didn't bother to raise her gaze from the papers scattered across the well polished wooden desk.

"Come in"

She spoke as she flipped through another page, she insisted on reading every single piece of paper for everything, finances, real estate, payments, whatever was written down had to be approved and signed by her and only her. Her secretary entered the room and made sure to close the door behind her.

"Mario is here to see you, says it's urgent"

"Mario? As in Mario from Italy? My dad's friend?"

The girl nodded, it was maybe the first time her boss looked surprised. (Y/n) let her pen down gently and spun her chair around, facing away from the door.

"Take him to the garden, take care of him for me until I come down"

"Right away miss (y/n)"

As the door shut (y/n) took in a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly. He wasn't hurt, the news would have reached her by now if he was harmed, Mario came alone so most likely it has something to do with business. So many possibilities of this unexpected visit came to her head, although she knew there was only one way to find out. She let out her breath slowly and got up for her seat and before she touched the golden handle she fixed her pastel pink button up silk shirt. As she walked towards the garden she felt like the belt from her pencil skirt tightened more and more.

"Mario, what a surprise"

"Gioia! Let me take a look at you"

Mario held her hands and stretched his in order to observe her. She was always beautiful but she was a woman now, it had been almost 7 years since he saw her, she was not the little girl full of happiness and ambition anymore, she was a delicate lady.

"My goodness you have grown such graciously"

"I can say the same about you nonnino"

She started calling him grandpa at a very young age, she never met her grandpa from her dad's side, so in her young mind she thought that he was it, she would see him only a few times and he would always bring sweets and gifts just like her other grandpa so he must be one as well.

"Oh say that to my squeaky back, come here"

He said as he hugged her tightly. (Y/n) hugged back with the same energy, she adored him a lot and seeing him after such a long time felt so comforting. Mario rubbed her back before he leaned a bit towards her ear.

"I'm really sorry gioia, I should have been here for the funeral"

"It's okay, I understand"

She said before she pulled away. Her father passed away about 4 years ago, of course someone had hired a hitman to take him out. At first she didn't think anything of it, he had been shot before she was almost certain that he was going to be fine. Unfortunately she was wrong.

"Come on, let's go for a walk, it's such a beautiful day today"

She told him as she lead the way, her heels clicking against the shiny white marble floor, her father had made sure their house had a big garden, her mother almost demanded it since she grew up on the countryside, in order to please his wife her father looked through so many houses before he bought this one.

"How's business"

"Excellent I must say, we finally made a deal with the Serbians. You know how difficult it was due to the politics of our countries"

Mario nodded and they stayed silent for a few more moments before (y/n) stopped to lean on the balcony and face him.

"But I know you are not here to just see me and apologize"

"Massimo send me"

"I figured that much, why?"

"We figured that maybe it's time-"

"For me to help him? He got attacked two times in one month"

She started to get defensive, word gets around in this type of business and Massimo now looked weak and vulnerable, she was expecting him to try and seek for help yet she did not think he would come to help.

"You know how much he respects you"

"Really? Then why isn't he the one that's here? Like a man"

She crossed her arms in front of her torso and looked straight into Marios eyes. Mario knew that this was a delicate subject so he had to dance around on thin ice with her, it wasn't just business between her and Massimo, it never was.

"You know him (y/n), he was too ashamed to come here"

"But he wasn't ashamed to send someone? Let's forget this for a moment, what will I gain from helping you?"

"The torricelli family has been friends with your family before you were even born"

"Exactly, so imagine my shock after none of you showed up for my father's funeral, Lorik is probably tossing and turning on his grave as we speak"

She stood up straight and uncrossed her arms in order to express more emotion with the motions of her hands.

Mario took in a breath before he smiled at her once more.

"He fucked up, you are hurt and you have every right to do so, trust me he didn't get away so easily from skipping such an important thing. Do this for the sake of his father, for my sake"

"I'm sorry Mario, but I can't keep running whenever Massimo needs it"

(Y/n) started to walk away from Mario as she was desperately trying to control her emotions with all her strength. The nerve of this man to come and ask her for help, after everything that happened.

"He might die (y/n), they won't stop until he is out of the picture"

She stopped dead in her tracks, if it was humanly possible her heartbeat would be heard around the mansion, the thought of Massimo being six feet under crushed her and Mario knew it.

"That's none of my concern anymore, for me he died 4 years ago along with my father"

Part two

[starryhyuck]

pretty girl. (m)

pairing: alpha!jaemin x reader

words: 4.3k+

summary: you hate that jaemin follows you around every full moon. you’re determined to know the reason why, but you end up getting more than you asked for.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: large amounts of cum, manhandling, breeding, knotting, overstimulation, fingering, hair pulling, rough sex, oral sex

“It’s dangerous for you to be out here.”

You blink twice at Jaemin, who is hovering protectively over your form. As your best friend, Jaemin’s always been cautious of you because of his alpha instincts. This oddly includes finding him in your apartment on random days, cooking you dinner because you ‘can’t make it yourself,’ walking you around campus and glaring at anyone who glances your way, and finally, following you to places he should never be at anyways. Tonight falls under the last category, where you were itching to have a nice time with some of your group partners in your Economics class. You all collectively agreed that grabbing drinks at the nearby bar on campus was a good idea. Everything was going perfectly until Jaemin came storming into the bar, almost pushing one of your friends from his spot next to you.

You awkwardly clear your throat, laughing breathily as you stand, trying to move Jaemin away from the table. You can feel the heavy stares of your classmates on your back, and you try your best to ignore it. Once you’re out of earshot, you mumble lowly to him.

“Uh, Jaem, why are you here?”

He frowns at you. The expression on his face is clearly one of disappointment. “It’s a full moon. You shouldn’t be out here, especially if there are other alphas lurking around.”

You tend to frequently forget that Jaemin gets extremely clingy when the full moon rises, and he often perceives most of the population as a threat to your life. In fact, you’re both very good friends with Jeno, another fellow alpha on campus. Jeno’s shown time after time that he has absolutely no interest in you, but when the full moon appears, Jaemin’s convinced that Jeno wants to kidnap you and keep you locked in his dorm forever.

You sigh. “Jaemin, I’m fine. I’m just hanging out with my friends. There are no alphas around, I promise.”

His frown grows deeper. “I passed two of them on the way here. They could have easily hurt you.”

“How about you have a drink with us?” You offer, knowing his worries aren’t subsiding anytime soon. “You can relax and make sure I’m safe.”

The tension in his shoulders loosen at your suggestion, and he hesitantly agrees. You order a beer for him and he reluctantly follows you back to the table. Your friends are eyeing him warily.

“Everyone, this is Jaemin,” you introduce awkwardly. “Is it okay if he joins us?”

Jeongyeon is the first to speak, despite everyone’s reluctance. “Sure, the more the merrier!”

You toss her a grateful smile and Jaemin slides in next to you, unaware of the looks he’s receiving. Luckily, Seulgi launches into a discussion about her day before anyone else can comment. It isn’t long before Chanwoo leans over to whisper in your ear, causing Jaemin to stiffen beside you.

“Is your friend okay? He looks like he hates all of us.”

You brush off Chanwoo’s question. “He’s fine, just tense. Rough time in the semester, you know?”

Chanwoo nods but doesn’t seem convinced by your answer. No one else approaches you about Jaemin for the rest of the time, and the boy next to you chooses to remain silent. You bid goodbye to the group at the end of the night with Jaemin giving subtle nods to each of them. He still hovers protectively over you on the walk back to the campus dorms.

“You really didn’t have to come out tonight,” you mumble to your best friend as he walks alongside you. “I was fine on my own.”

“You’re not fine on nights like these,” he responds, and you can hear the frustration in his tone. “You don’t know what’s out there.”

You huff and stop in your tracks, turning around to face him. You cross your arms over your chest.

“No one is going to hurt me! No one has ever tried to hurt me on a full moon, it’s just your imagination! It’s annoying how much you follow me around, Jaemin, seriously.”

He’s visibly hurt by your outburst and you instantly feel regret. You can almost feel him shutting you away, and it pulls at your chest. He motions to your dorm, which is only a few feet away from where you’re standing.

“Good night. I hope you sleep well.”

“Jaemin-“

You watch as your best friend scurries down the sidewalk, not sparing a single glance back at you.

—

You startle Jeno the next day, pounding on his door and ignoring the glares you’re receiving in his hallway. The boy sleepily opens the door up for you, hair sticking out in multiple directions. He mumbles something under his breath and you ignore him, pushing through and entering his room.

“Well, come on in,” he hisses sarcastically.

You have no time to humor him. “Are alphas usually super clingy and annoying?”

He pauses at the question, closing the door slowly. You raise an eyebrow at his hesitation.

“Um, is this about Jaemin?”

“Maybe,” you drawl, watching Jeno carefully. He definitely knows something he’s not telling you about. “And what if it was?”

“Then I would say you need to talk to Jaemin.”

You roll your eyes. “Jeno!”

“What?” He retorts, avoiding your eyes as much as possible. “It’s not my place to say.”

“I don’t care if it’s your place or not,” you say, frustrated by your lack of alpha knowledge. You’ve tried to learn more since Jaemin presented himself, but it was difficult since many alpha secrets were kept between alphas only. “I need to know what’s going on with him. He’s been following me around every full moon like he’s expecting me to get mugged or something!”

Jeno exhales loudly. “He hasn’t talked to you? About anything?”

You huff. “Jeno, if I needed answers, I wouldn’t be standing here with you.”

The more you talk, the more Jeno grows uncomfortable. It almost seems like it pains him to say anything about Jaemin without him present, and it’s getting on your nerves. Jaemin usually never keeps secrets from you and it must be pretty big if Jeno is barely holding himself together.

Jeno finally speaks after you watch him run circles in his head. “What do you know about mates? Alpha mates?”

You frown, tilting your head to the side. “Mates? I didn’t even know alphas had mates.”

“They’re chosen specifically by an alpha. Someone the alpha has a connection to, someone they would like to spend the rest of their life with.”

He’s still not making any sense to you. Does Jaemin have a mate? Is it someone you know?

Jeno can see the gears spinning and he scoffs. He whispers something under his breath that you can’t hear.

“You need to talk to Jaemin about this. I really can’t say any more.”

You spare Jeno the interrogation and leave his room, thoughts swirling in your head. He’s given you everything and nothing at once, and you don’t even know if Jaemin will offer anything better. You trek over to his dorm anyways, on a mission.

His eyes soften when he sees you behind the door. It tugs at your heartstrings and he motions for you to come inside. The awkward tension drowns the room and you sway on your feet.

“I’m sorry,” he says first. “I know I made you uncomfortable by being with your friends last night, and I should’ve stayed away. I just get very worried around the full moon because-“

“What are alpha mates?”

Jaemin chokes, not expecting your question. You watch as he gathers himself again, and this time, he can’t bear to look at you.

“Where did you hear that from?”

“Jeno.”

Jaemin curses lowly. You frown, your gaze never faltering. You can practically see him trying to come up with some type of excuse.

“Jaemin, I want the truth.”

He sighs. “Can you sit down? Please?”

You reluctantly follow his request, taking a seat on his bed. He paces around the room, looking more nervous than you’ve ever seen him before. You begin to grow antsy while watching him.

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine.”

His head snaps up to look at you, heart breaking at the dejected look on your face. He shakes his head and takes a seat next to you.

“I do, I want to tell you everything. I just want you to have a choice first,” he states, staring at you as if you hold all the answers.

You frown and shake your head. “What choice? You’re not making any sense.”

“I, uh, I unknowingly bonded myself to you. You became my mate, and I realized it too late. We spent too much time together and I should have taken a step back before it got too serious. I was just- I’m never in the correct headspace when I’m around you, and it causes me to impulsively make decisions. I can’t break the bond unless I wish to die a slow death, but if you want me to, I can try.”

You’re spiraling. Your brain is short circuiting, and you’re unsure of what to say in response. Your best friend has just confessed that he bonded himself to you for life, which probably runs deeper than marriage. If you reject him, he’ll die a painful death.

Wonderful.

Jaemin starts freaking out, standing back up and resuming his pacing. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have left weeks ago, I shouldn’t even be bothering you with this. Listen, we can forget this ever happened. I’ll just- I’ll figure something out. Surely, I can break the bond-“

“Jaemin,” you say timidly. He stops in his tracks at the sound of your voice. “I think I’m okay with being your mate. I mean, I’d rather have it be you than anyone else. Not like you’re my second choice or anything! I just-“

He kneels down, his hands resting on the expanse of your thighs, causing you to jolt at the contact. His hands feel oddly warm, and it’s sending a plethora of dirty thoughts to your head.

“I don’t want you to do this because you feel bad,” he speaks softly. “If you don’t want this, we don’t have to do it. It’s my fault, and I’ll pay the price.”

You protest. “No, I’m doing this because I want to-“

“It’s a big decision-“

“I know that, and I-“

“I hardly think you’ve thought through this carefully-“

“Don’t tell me what I haven’t done-“

“I’ll just move away. It’ll be easier for the both of us that way.”

“Jaemin,” you hiss, placing your hands on his shoulders to stop him. “Can you quit being so difficult? I’m telling you I want to be with you and your rejection is making me feel upset.”

His expression falls. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I don’t want to cage you in, that’s all.”

“You aren’t caging me in,” you promise him. “Can you tell me what being a mate entails?”

He flushes deep red, and you grow anxious once again. He removes his hands from your thighs and you silently wish he kept them there. He stands again, avoiding your questioning gaze.

“Um, well, technically- I mean, it’s just-“

“Jaemin,” you say sternly. “Stop dancing around the subject.”

He clears his throat. “Technically, we’re not fully mated yet. In order to complete the bonding process, we need to- um, well, we need to-“

“Jaemin!”

“We need to fuck!”

That definitely floors you. You blink at him, not believing what he said. You haven’t slept with anyone in months. You’re not going to lie — you’ve thought about Jaemin in that way a handful of times, mostly when it’s late at night and you’re left with an imaginative mind. You didn’t realize it could ever become a reality.

He starts rambling again. “Of course, I don’t want to make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with. I can’t imagine me putting my dick anywhere near you is appealing at the moment, so we can probably just forget it and-“

You say his name again to bring him out of his thoughts. “Can we try?”

He sputters, more than the last time. “W-What?”

“I mean, it can’t hurt, right? I trust you.”

“U-Uh, um, uh, I-“ He short circuits in front of you, struggling to find coherent words.

You don’t give him time to second guess again, immediately falling to your knees and reaching for the band of his sweatpants.

“Woah, woah, wait, let me just-“

Your mouth waters when you pull his cock out from his briefs, the tip already red and leaking. You don’t know if it’s because he’s an alpha, but his cock is absurdly large and thick. You can barely wrap your hand around the base and the thought of taking him into your mouth is daunting, but you would regret it if you didn’t try. You take an experimental lick, watching the way Jaemin struggles above you.

“Slow down, we don’t have to do this now-“

You ignore him again, enveloping the tip in your mouth as he releases a long groan. Your eyes flutter shut, pushing him deeper and deeper into your throat. You run your tongue along the base of his cock, licking and swallowing him. He’s barely holding on to the last string of his control, and you can tell by the way his hands are clenched at his sides.

You decide to push him further, casually deepthroating him and locking your gaze with his. The sound of you choking on him snaps him awake, and it isn’t long before he’s gripping your hair and throwing you on his bed. You squeal at the force of his movements. He pushes you on your stomach, fingers gripping the flesh of your ass.

He hisses in your ear. “You’re going to be a good girl for your alpha, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be good, alpha,” you keen. “I’m good for you.”

“Yeah?” He grunts, watching as you arch your back. “You’ve been waiting a long time for me, haven’t you?”

“So long,” you practically sob. “Just want my alpha to make me feel good.”

You hear the rip of your skirt and he tears the fabric of your top, tossing both items across the room. He’s feral at this point and you have no intention of stopping him. It feels electrifying to have him this close to you, touching you in all the places you never thought before.

Even though he’s your best friend, it feels as if he’s been doing this with you for years. He doesn’t feel like a stranger as he grabs your waist, finger running up and down your clothed slit.

“Aw, pretty girl, look at how wet you are for me,” he muses, pulling your underwear down to fully see you. “So beautiful. Is this all for me?”

“Yes,” you whimper. “All for you, just for you.”

You see stars when he sinks his finger into you, moaning at his touch. You hear him murmur behind you.

“So so perfect, so pretty and wet. You’re so good for your alpha.”

You flourish under Jaemin’s praises, his eyes observing as you submit further to him. You wish you read more on the subject of alphas and their mates. The way Jaemin’s touching you is sending your mind into overdrive, and you’re not even sure what to do when you hear the slick of your cunt as he slides another finger into you. He’s cooing at you, chanting how you’re such a ‘good girl’ for him.

You shut your eyes as he builds a steady pace with his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot. You moan loudly, not registering the volume of your voice. He doesn’t seem to mind you being loud either.

“Such pretty noises,” he hums, digging his other hand into your side and picking up the pace inside of you. You cry and squirm away from him, but he holds you in place. “I imagined for so long what you would sound like. Full moons were the worst. I couldn’t bear the thought of someone else being able to see you like this, touch you like this. You drove me insane.”

“J-Jaemin,” you whimper, getting closer and closer to snapping.

He hums again in response. “Almost there, sweet girl? You’re so pliant for me, so easy to fuck. But it’s all for me and only me, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, yes, only for you, alpha,” you whisper, fingers gripping the sheets as you near the edge.

“Pretty little pussy you have, I can’t wait to knot you. You’re going to take my knot so well, aren’t you? I chose you to take it, and to stuff your cunt full of my cum. I wonder how I could fit my cock into you, you seem too small to take it, pretty girl.”

“I-I can t-take it,” you struggle to get the words out, your brain turning a bit fuzzy. Once he brushes your sweet spot again, your body explodes and you sob loudly at the intensity of your orgasm. Jaemin praises you throughout it, eyes locked on your cunt gushing into his palm.

“So pretty, such a pretty girl. You came so much for me.”

As you float down from your high, you can hear the sound of Jaemin greedily licking his fingers. You nearly scream when you feel his tongue prod at your pussy.

“No, n-no, Jaem, please-“ you begin to beg, squeamish from the overstimulation, but it’s useless. He loves the taste of your cunt already, digging in like it’s his last meal.

Your body begins to ache and you slowly sink down on the bed, tired of arching your back. Jaemin doesn’t seem to mind, following you down as he slurps up your cunt. You’re mumbling incoherent noises as he sucks on your folds, and you can feel his smile when he plays with your clit.

“Alpha,” you whisper breathlessly. “Alpha, I can’t.”

He clicks his tongue. “I know you can. I chose you because you can. Take what I give you, pretty girl. I know you can be good for me.”

You lay there, boneless, as he dips his tongue into your entrance. You barely scream when your second orgasm rolls over you, the sound catching in your throat. He licks up the evidence and you try to wave your hand back to stop him. He gets the message, pulling back and wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

“You taste so sweet, pretty girl. I’ve never tasted a cunt that good before. All for me, right?”

“Yes,” you answer. “All for you, alpha.”

You hear him shifting behind you, and you see him toss his clothes over his shoulder. He picks you up and adjusts you until you’re seated on his lap, hovering just above his cock. He takes note of your sleepy gaze and smiles, kissing down your neck.

“Tired, sweet girl? Don’t want to take my cock anymore?”

You blearily blink. “No, no, I want to take your cock, alpha. Please give it to me.”

He chuckles at your compliance, eyes zeroing in on your glistening pussy. “You’ve been so good for me. Want your reward now?”

“Yes, yes, alpha.”

He suddenly turns serious, brushing your hair away and cupping your cheeks.

“This means forever. I want you to understand that.”

It’s a little frightening — the thought of being bound to someone forever. However, you’re willing to do anything for Jaemin, and you know he loves you. You’re blissfully happy at the thought of forever.

You nod, smiling. “Want to be with you, Jaem.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your lips. “Good girl.”

Your smile quickly turns into a gasp as he pushes you down on his cock. You scramble in his hold, fingers digging into his shoulders.

He shushes you softly. “It’s okay, pretty girl. I got you, trust me.”

Head thrown back and lips parted, you feel utterly fucked as Jaemin impales you. You weren’t even aware your cunt could stretch this far for him, taking him in. The stretch doesn’t hurt like you think it will, it feels surprisingly satisfying. You feel whole like this, finally connecting him to you.

Once he bottoms out, he gives you time to adjust. You don’t even realize you’re crying until he wipes stray tears from your cheek.

“You’re doing so well for me, sweet girl. Took my cock so well. I know you’ll take my knot like a champ too.”

You feel drunk on him despite the fact that his cock could split you in half. You take a few more seconds to yourself before you nod, giving him the okay to move.

He starts out gently, even though you can see him clenching his teeth trying to control himself. You decide to push him.

You lean in and whisper in his ear. “Fuck me good, alpha. Show me I’m yours, and yours only.”

He throws you back down onto the bed, growling at your submission. You cry when he drills into you, showing no mercy any longer. His cock is tearing you apart and you welcome it with open arms. His fingers dig roughly into your scalp, his other hand groping your breast.

“You like it when your alpha fucks you like this? You like it when I have control of you?” He practically growls at you, hips snapping into your thighs roughly. Your mouth hangs open, and if you were lucid, you would be embarrassed by the drool pooling at the side of your lips. He continues muttering obscenities at you, fueled by the feeling of your warm pussy wrapped around his cock. “Gonna fuck you until you can’t think of anyone else. Every time you touch yourself, you’re going to think about me. Only me. I’m going to make sure everyone knows you’re mine, make sure you’re pretty and pregnant for me.”

His fingers move from your breast into your mouth, and you subconsciously suck on the digits.

He snickers. “Look at you. Such a pretty fuck toy for me, taking my cock so well. You were made to be fucked, sweet girl. Made to take my cock and my cock only.”

You’re definitely out of coherent thoughts at this point. Jaemin flips you again, arching your back and you whimper at the ache. He drives into you harder and faster from behind, his balls slapping against your cunt in the most unholy way.

“Alpha, alpha, alpha,” you groan. “My alpha. So good, my alpha, so good. So big.”

“Need you to cum, sweet girl. Want to feel it. Give it to me, pretty girl.”

“Alpha, alpha,” you whimper, the coil in your stomach building and building. You soar when it snaps, and you swear you see white clouding your vision. You cry and cry, tears freely falling down your face as you clench around Jaemin.

You think you pass out for a few seconds. When you regain your strength, he’s flipped you on your side, gripping your ankle as he throws your foot over his shoulder. You let him do whatever he wants at this point, enjoying the way he presses against your clit every time he pushes in.

You can only hear parts of what he’s saying, a ringing sound still echoing in your ears.

“So good- such a pretty cunt- want to fuck you forever- going to show you off- beautiful- fucking pretty pussy- such a good girl for me.”

“J-Jaem,” you say, but you know he can’t hear you anymore. You think you have another orgasm, but the pleasure is mixing together too fast. You blackout again, waking up moments later to find Jaemin still fucking you senseless.

You’re on your back again with Jaemin hovering over you, pressing kisses down your neck. He’s muttering praises still, hands digging into your sides.

“Want to feel you forever. So good for me, pretty girl. You ready to take my knot?”

You lazily comb your fingers through his hair, feeling exhausted. “Please, alpha, give it to me.”

“Yeah?” He groans, pressing harder into you. “Want me?”

“I want you, I want you,” you echo, the familiar sensation pulsing through your veins.

He’s drilling faster now, pumping furiously into you as he chases his high. You think you’re screaming, but you can’t be entirely sure. You feel bad for whoever lives on Jaemin’s floor.

When he cums, you swear he’s been holding it in for years. His cum splashes against your walls as he empties himself inside of you. You squeeze around him again, finishing another orgasm.

It’s a few minutes later when you think it’s finally over. You start to relax, but the feeling is short lived. You sob when the base of Jaemin’s cock begins to swell, growing bigger and bigger.

“N-No, no, no, no-“

He shushes you. “It’s okay, pretty girl. You take my knot so well, I have so much cum for you.”

You swear you’ve lost your mind when Jaemin does, in fact, give you even more of his cum. It starts to leak out of your cunt because of the sheer amount, and he urges you through it with soft kisses. When he’s finally done, you feel like you’ve been fucked into the next century.

The only thing you can manage to say is, “You can’t fuck me again for three months, at least.”

He laughs at you and you try to throw him a serious look. He kisses your cheek.

“Oh, silly girl. What did I tell you before? I chose you because you’re made for me. You honestly don’t think I’m going to stop fucking you now, do you?”

Your eyes widen at his confession, and you shriek when he thrusts into you, his cock still hard.

“Such a pretty girl.”

[captains-simp]

Carol Danvers ~ Infuriating

Carol Danvers X fem!Reader Smut

Word count: 8,016

Includes: dom!Carol, captain kink, brat taming, choking, degrading, fingering, edging, nipple clamps, clit clamp, thigh riding, spanking enhanced with powers, vibrator enhanced with powers, strap-on gagging and choking, strap-on sex and overstimulation

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You hadn't meant to fuck up Carol's mission. You weren't that petty. But the look on her face when you disobeyed her direct order and took the shot was priceless.

You and Carol had never gotten on. The first time you laid eyes on her you were infuriated by her actions. The second time you met only amplified that.

You had been under cover for a year when she came along and screwed up your mission. It had taken a long time to be trusted by those you 'worked with'.

You had set up a buy with a huge advanced (and crazy irresponsible) weapons smuggling ring that would lead to you obtaining more of their weapons for SHIELD until eventually, hopefully, you would figure out the secrets to their operation and be able to take down the business.

Just as the dealers arrived at the abandoned warehouse Carol came flying in to take on the armed men, oblivious to the mission that was happening, in all her heroic glory.

"We got the weapons, it was a success."

After writing out the report and having a long convosation with Fury (most of which involved you describing Carol in ways Steve would have been outraged by) you had at least expected an apology from the blonde. You could still remember how that went down.

"It was not a success!" You almost screamed at Carol. It infuriated you to no end that after half an hour of talking she still didn't see the bigger picture. She really thought she had done the right thing.

"Yes we got the weapons - something I could have done on my own - but that's such a small part of the rest of what they're making."

"You don't know how much there is." Carol said, her voice as calm as ever as she leant against Fury's desk with her arms crossed.

"That's the point." You said through gritted teeth, determined not to loose your cool infront of her and Fury. "My mission was to find out and put a stop to it."

"There are guys in holding. They'll talk."

You almost laughed at that. "If I could ask them my way they definitely would." You silently cursed SHIELD's moral codes that stopped you from torturing the answer out of them. They wouldn't talk any other way.

"They'll talk." Carol said stubbornly. "And anyway, you should be thanking me for cutting your mission short."

And that was it. From that moment on you couldn't look at the woman without wanting to slap her. That had been months ago.

Despite you never hiding your dislike for Carol she never seemed to mind you. In fact, she tried to be around any chance she could. Always looking for ways to get on your final nerve, everything she did she did for your reactions that you had grown worse at suppressing.

You took some of it out on her during training. It bothered her but thrilled you that you too were on the same level in combat. Apart from the times she was a sore looser and used her powers.

But you had made a strong effort to avoid training with her too. She taunted you during fighting. Although you were used to it it struck different when her body was pressed against yours to pin you to the floor.

Your most shameful day was when her actions had sent a jolt to your core that you couldn't deny.

Carol looked down at you with an insanely arrogant smirk as she straddled your waist. She was always like this in her moments of victory, always wanting to rub it in.

"Wow, you gave in quickly today." She quipped, not even trying to hide the obvious undertones. That didn't even make sense!

You weren't about to give in when she looked so god damn smug. You gripped her shirt with two hands and lifted your hips to flip her off but she caught on both too quickly and too late. She lurched forward into your grip but instantly pinned your hands above your head as her legs fell down next to yours.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you realised her face was inches from your own, it was only then that you become aware of the darker specs of brown in her eyes that highlighted the lighter shades. They were beau- okay. They were okay eyes. Yours were better.

The corner of her mouth raised in her familiar smirk that you always despised. But being that close brought light to how soft her lips looked. They were slightly parted and you wondered what kind of things she could do with that mouth. Professional things of course. Strictly professional and tactical thing. Not sinful things at all...

You wanted those thoughts banished from your head immediately. You wanted to leave.

All too hastily, you tried to raise your hips again, only then noticing how Carol's new position had her core right over yours. The contact and friction was undeniable, as was the slow throbbing that started.

A quiet moan slipped from your mouth that you desperetly coughed to cover up. You turned your head to the side, not wanting to see if Carol had noticed.

"Get off me, Carol." You huffed, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"What? You don't like me ontop of you?" She smirked.

God you definetly did.

As much as you tried to ignore that memory and replace it with the time you were first introduced you rarely succeeded. And even then it was like your hatred for her only encouraged how much you wanted to feel her deep insi-

"Are you even listening to me?!" Carol yelled at you with a glare. You never zoned out during meetings. Carol knew that. Fury knew that. Yet it was still very clear you just had.

"Are you done rambling?" You quipped, not having a moment to place the filter over your mouth as the thought spilled out.

Fury arched a brow at the question and Carol's jaw clenched in an annoyingly attractive way. You did not regret that one bit.

"If I hadn't taken the shot the hostages would have died."

"They almost did anyway."

"Almost."

There had been some sort of detonator with the man holding the hostages. Once dead, the storage he had loaded into his truck had been destroyed and nothing was salvageable. That was important cargo, but you always put a priority on lives. Taking the bad ones more than saving the good ones admittedly.

Once a vigilante always a vigilante.

"I don't think you understand how valuable that cargo was."

The meeting continued like that for a while. You would never admit it to anyone, especially as fucking up the mission wasn't intentional, but seeing how the tables had turned from the last time the three of you were in that office? It made you happier than it should have.

You guessed the two of you were even now. Maybe she would finally leave you alone. Your happiness faulted at that thought.

Finally, Fury told you and Carol to go and that it would be discussed again tomorrow. He was clearly tired. It had been a long day and it was late, everyone else was already asleep.

Even as you trudged down the hallway Carol continued to rant about your inability to follow orders. You would be the first to admit you weren't a team player. You still weren't used to it. But you always follow orders.

"I can follow orders, Captain. I just choose not to follow yours." You said calmly as approached the hallway towards your room.

You hated that Carol's room was next to yours. You had been there when Carol had talked to Tony about staying at the Avengers compound. You had seen her sly smirk as she pointed out on the compound map which room she wanted. Knowing full damn well it was next to yours.

How long did she plan to keep this up? You definetly didn't bug her about her screw up as long as she was you. Why couldn't she just hold the grudge in silence like you?

"You put aside personal matters when you go on a mission, y/n." She continue to scorn.

"Not personal, Captain. I just know when a decision and order is bullshit." Your room finally came into your line of sight. Just a few more meters.

"It wasn't bullshit. It was the right call. You just refuse to do what I tell you to." You rolled your eyes at her insistence, something that didn't go unnoticed by the blonde.

"The whole thing would have been fucked if I followed your orders. You should be thanking me." You taunted with a smile. But before you could fully bathe in your victory of getting under her skin, Carol gripped your neck tightly and slammed you into the wall.

You eyes widened as your back hit the wall painfully and you struggled to comprehend that Carol's hand was really around your neck...and you liked it.

"What? Got nothing to say to your Captain now?" She smirked. A familiar jolt travelled throughout your body and rested between your legs at her words.

It wasn't hard to put two and two together. Her hand, her words and the tone that accompanied them. You could always tell Carol was a top, but a dom?!

"If I could go back..." You started, your voice quiet with an edge of fear that made Carol preen. "And do the mission again...." Carol watched your face intently, awaiting your words of apology. "I still wouldn't follow your orders. Because I don't take orders from yo-" Carol stepped forward and forced one of her legs between yours.

You bit you lip to stop yourself moaning at the friction she was causing, the urge to grind against her leg was strong.

"Brat." She whispered with poison dripping from her voice. Her warm breath hit the small area of skin her hand wasn't covering and her hair tickled you chin.

"I have just the thing to deal with that. You wont be keeping up that facade for long."

You were about to object and assure her you would. That your stubbornness was just as strong as hers and you had been down this road before with others.

As she moved away from you she gripped your shirt in her closed fist and pulled you away from the wall with her. You hated that you instantly missed the contact of her thigh between yours. But her rough nature was doing it for you too. It had been so long since someone had been rough with you and you yearned to feel that again.

Carol had barely opened her door when she pushed you through the gap into her room. You were about to take in your surroundings and even pause to assess what was happening, but Carol's hands were on you again and all doubt slipped from your mind.

The next thing you knew your face was engulfed by soft pillows before you felt Carol's strong presence above you.

You could feel her knees on either side of your waist, pressed against you as though caging you beneath her. Her hands entwined with the back of your own and held them above your head under the pillows.

You went to move your hips up out of instinct from your training but Carol was too strong. She didn't even flinch from you efforts, clearly overpowering you in strength.

You reminded yourself you would not, under any circumstances, let Carol win.

You wouldn't apologise for the mission, wouldn't do what she said and you would not fully submit to her. It was something you truly believed, Carol knew this and it made everything you eventually did all the more worthit.

You could never imagine or anticipate the things you would let her do to you that night or the desperate way you would beg her to do them.

Her hair tickled your exposed neck as she leant down to whisper into your ear. "Anything you want to say to me before I begin? Perhaps an apology?" Carol questioned, knowing you would say no such thing but wanting to have more ammunition for later on.

You chuckled into the pillows before replying. "Go fuck yourself." It was muffled. But Carol understood.

She didn't reply verbally, instead she leant further against your body as her hands left yours and wandered down your arms.

Carol inhaled the scent around your neck as her hands reached your shoulders and decended to trace your collarbones that were visible from your shirt being lowered.

The blonde took her time memorizing every inch of your body, especially cupping your clothed breasts in her hands and ever so slightly grinding herself against you as she did so.

You reminded yourself to control your breathing as you felt those motions, not allowing yourself to be caught up in the firm grip of her hands against your breasts or the way she used your body to gain some friction to her core.

Her hands continued to massage your lower stomach, admiring the feel of your finally formed abs in a way she never could when you trained.

You kept your head amongst the pillows when her fingers danced around the waistband of your trousers. You didn't want Carol to see the anticipating look on your face at the touch of her fingers. They barely dipped half an inch beneath your trousers and panties but the contract gave you chills. You wanted to feel her against your bare skin more.

Carol retracted her fingers and instead wordlessly moved them to the centre of your trousers and unbuttoned them. You could hear her pull your zip down in the deafening silence of the room and you found yourself holding your breath in anticipation again.

She didn't hesitate once in her movements. With undeniable certainty, Carol slipped her hand under your trousers and panties to meet the space between your legs that welcomed her.

Carol sighed into the crook your neck as her fingers met your wetness between your slick lips. You bit your lip to stop any sounds escaping your mouth as the arrogant hero swiped a single finger slowly through your eager folds. She collected the arousal on her fingers before pressing it firmly to your clit.

Your hips rolled into her hand before you could stop them and the action caused a smug grin from Carol that although you couldn't see, you could feel against your skin. It was considerably worse and amplified your arousal as Carol could tell.

You hated feuling her ego. You hated that she had made you so wet your throbbing clit would slip around her fingers when she had barely touched you.

"Such a wet little brat. You're so ready for me and I've barely touched you." Carol husked as her finger continued to alter between running through your folds and rubbing your clit lightly.

It took every ounce of self control in your body not to squirm against her or make any noise. Your pride helped you keep those actions at bay.

Carol gripped your chin with her free hand and turned your head away from the pillow. You tried to avoid making eye contact with the blonde, knowing it would make your self control waver, but her hand continued to guide your line of sight to her enchanting gaze.

Her face was so close to yours you were completely caught off guard when Carol's finger pushed inside you and was engulfed by your lower lips with ease.

You bit your lip hard at the action, still staring into Carol's eyes and refusing to be the one to look away first. The intense eye contact did you no favours in holding off your verbal signs of arousal, especially when her single digit curled to brush your most pleasurable spot.

You gave a breathy moan when Carol held her finger against your g-spot for a long moment before withdrawing it, your eyes marginally widening as you adjusted to the pleasure, something Carol wouldn't have noticed if your faces weren't so close.

Her finger pushed back in at a slow pace but always stroked the back of your pussy in an angelic way.

You moaned louder when Carol returned with two fingers, the additional surface area made the experience all the more pleasurable and you feared how quickly you would cum.

Carol studied your facial expressions as she fingered you slowly, figuring out the spots that made you preen in pleasure the most and even the best angles to approach it.

It didn't take her long to understand the eb and flow of your pussy better than anyone ever had. With this powerful knowledge, Carol's pace suddenly increased in an overwhelming way you could barely adjust to.

She fucked you hard and fast with her fingers. Her wrist twisted in the most agile ways that caused her fingers to burry deep within you.

You moaned continuously as you stared into Carol's brown eyes you were beginning to remember better than your own.

The pleasure was immense and you knew your orgasm would hit you hard. Your breathing became rapid and your walls clenched down on Carol's fingers desperetly as your body prepared for your release.

Carol's fingers increased in pace as she gripped your chin harder, ensuring you look at her as her smirk finally returned.

Just as you were about to explode around Carol's fingers she retracted them from your throbbing pussy and brought them up to her lips as she grinned at you.

"Carol!" You protested in disbelief and annoyance.

"What? You didn't really think I would let you cum so soon did you? You haven't earned the right. Unless, of course, you'd like to make an apology." Carol said as her eyes bore deep into yours.

"Like hell I will." You groaned.

Carol clicked her tongue in disapproval before finally looking away from you. Her fingers returned to your waistband, only this time she pulled your trousers down swiftly, deliberately leaving your soaking panties clinging to you.

She then got off the bed and strolled confidently towards her walk in closet for a few seconds, returning with a few pieces of metal you weren't surprised to be seeing yet still gave you goosebumps. Carol's keen eyes seemed to notice this and she grinned knowingly to herself.

You shifted onto your side to get a clearer view of the devices attached to the long silver chain, once Carol reached your side she roughly forced your shoulder down so you were laying on your back.

"You're very pushy you know?" You quipped as Carol moved to straddle you hips and placed the metal beside you.

Her jaw clenched tightly in annoyance of your words but she didn't look at you, instead running her hands along your lower abdomen beneath your shirt. Seeing her frustration at you, especially the slight heavy exhale through her nose very few would notice, helped you control the urge to shiver under Carol's touch.

"I hope you can do other things with that mouth of yours besides bitching, for your own sake." Carol said lowly before gripping the end of your shirt and pulling it over your head.

"It can work wonders," you winked at her with a grin, "and it's nice to know you care, Captain, not just a big, mean, dom I see."

Carol's hand wrapped tightly around your throat just as you finished your sentence. She glared at you with clear rage in her eyes, a look that made putting up your hard front difficult. You had a strong urge to apologise, but you instead pushed it aside.

"If you think for one moment I'm going to go ease on you at any point you are sadly mistaken, brat. I'm not done with you until you're a begging, quivering, pathetic mess that's forgotten her own name and only knows her Captain. Even then I won't take any pity because of the shit you keep pulling. Whores dont deserve sympathy." Your breathing was shaky as the words dripped from her mouth laced with poison, threatening to be the end of you.

You were made acutely aware of her grip of your neck tightening and her ability to cut it off and never let you breathe again. You weren't sure at what point you had given over all control, but you didn't want it to stop.

Carol leaned in next to your ear and her scent enveloped your sences again. Her voice had dropped considerably when she next spoke her whispered words. "I can't wait to break you." She bit down on your ear harshly making you yelp. You couldn't deny the effect she was having on your body, she could see it too. Of course she could, she was playing you like a fiddle and there was nothing you could do about it. It was a thrilling realisation.

Carol pulled away from you slowly while you tried to return your breathing to it's normal pace. It wasn't until you heard Carol's deep chuckled that you realised that your eyes were clenched shut. You opened them to see the blonde looking very proud of herself and the result she had gotten.

You couldn't make another witty remark. Your brain couldn't form any kind of coherent thought and you wouldn't have trusted your mouth to deliver it. Besides, after what Carol had just said, you were afraid to speak out of term again.

The self-certain hero reached around your back to unclasp your bra as her other hand came to rest on your stomach, pressing down as she used it for support while she leant forward.

Carol's eyes eagerly took in every inch of your skin the moment it was exposed. She slowly pulled your bra away before flinging it across the room without taking her eyes off of your breasts.

The cold air hitting your skin made your nipples strain in a want for attention, although you and Carol both knew that wasn't the only reason. Carol hummed at the sight and leaned forward again to rub your buds between her thumb and fingers. Your head leant back into the pillows at the attention, sighing in bliss before you hissed sharply at the the spark of pain.

The blonde smiled in amusement as she continued to pinch your nipples harshly, you didn't protests out of stubbornness.

Carol then picked up the forgotten clamps next to you, trailing the chain slowly and deliberately over your sensitive skin. She attached the left clamp with a silent concentration that filled the room with tension. You hissed again as Carol adjusted the screw to the level she saw fit, which was scarily tight, before moving to the next with the same accuracy.

You closed your eyes and tried not to enjoy the throbbing pain on you nipples, but the growing slick between your legs was telling enough.

You closed your eyes and bit your lip hard to suppress a whimper, failing when Carol gave the chain a quick tug that made you give a strained whimper that sounded more pathetic than it would have if you hadn't tried to stop it.

Carol moved further down your body and spread your legs apart so she could sit between them. You could feel the chain extending down your stomach so you opened your eyes in confusion and instantly squirmed.

The two clamps had separate chains that looped around a small ring that lay on your stomach, twinkling mischeviously in the light. There was a third chain on the bottom of the ring that had a clamp at the end of it. A clamp that Carol was guiding dangerously close to your still covered core.

You had had experience with clamps before, but the thought of one pinching painfully at your throbbing clit was one you were unfamiliar and uncertain with.

Carol adjusted herself according to your newfound protests to kneeling on your legs, each knee digging into each of your thighs as a show of control. Your hands were still free and just as you were about to sit up Carol spoke with a fake pout.

"Aww, do you not think you can handle this? Are you too sensitive?" She mocked making you freeze. "I can always stop if you want me to. All you have to do is say the magic word." The blonde continued to taunt.

Your pride screamed at you to make some snarky remark as to protect your ego, knowing saying 'please' would lead to you spiralling down the rabbit hole you refused to step foot in, while your fear begged you to stay quiet. But there was also a small part of you that was eager to experience the pleasurable pain the clamp would surely deliver to your clit.

So instead, you kept your mouth shut and stared up at the ceiling, trying to keep an eye on Carol in your peripheral while appearing to ignore her.

She smirked, unbeknownst to you, at your pettiness and trailed a single finger against the wet patch on your panties. You struggled to continue looking at the ceiling and bucked your hips to try and meet Carol's hand.

Surprisingly, Carol let you and even pressed further against your panties, rubbing your clothed lips and relishing in the effect she had on you.

Carol teased you like that for a while, rubbing her finger against your soaking folds before circling your throbbing clit. Every so often she received a quiet whine from you that flooded you with embarrassment, hating how your body betrayed you and pleased Carol.

Finally, Carol pulled your ruined panties down and gleamed at the sight of your glistening folds, the view making her pussy clench around nothing and ache more than it had all night. An idea sprung to mind and she smirked at the thought.

She took the third clamp between her long fingers and pinched at your clit. You yelped and bucked your hips up again as Carol entrapped the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"So responsive." She muttered, more to herself than you, as she slowly twisted the screw. Her eyes returned to your pained face as she adjusted the tightness, studying you to see when you would reach the peak of your pain and your limit.

Your face scrunched up at the sharp pain that jolted throughout your body and made you whine lowly as you turned your head to the side and tried to squirm away.

Carol took another glance at your strained bud, biting her lip at the sight, before gripping your under arms and flipped you onto your back.

You were surprised and caught off guard but all questions flew from your mind when you were pushed against the mattress, the clamps pressing down and amplifying your pain.

A tear formed in your eye as your nipples burned hot in pain and your clit ached against its restraint. You whined and tried to squirm away, the inch you did move only made things worse as your dragged the clamps and the skin they pinched across the mattress. You gave a small cry at the pain but pushed your face into the pillows to muffle it, still trying with everything you had to not let Carol win.

You were so caught up in the unnatural pain you didn't even notice Carol stripping herself of her jeans and pants. But you did notice when you felt her wet pussy lips come into contact with the back of your thigh.

You brain short circuited when you felt how wet she was and that she was slowly rocking herself on your leg, using your body to get herself off.

"What are you-"

"Quiet." Carol cut you off by demanding as her hands locked yours to the top of the mattress again.

Her arousal was spreading across your thigh as she grinded against you.

You could feel your own breathing increase rapidly as you heard Carol gasp out occasionally. You wanted to see her. You wanted to see the look of pleasure on her face as she approached her high. What did she look like cuming? Did you feel good against her? Would she ever let you make her cum with your fingers or tongue. You prayed desperetly that you would someday get the chance.

"Fuck." Carol moaned breathlessly. Your own pussy clenched around nothing at the sound and you knew that while Carol was getting her wetness over your thigh, you were getting your own on her bed.

Carol's grip on your hands tightened as her movements became more erratic, chasing her release.

"Your Captain's gonna cum on your thigh, brat. Such a good fuck toy for me to use." A moan slipped past your lips at her words. You cursed yourself for giving the reaction Carol wanted, helping her frantic movements.

"Oh you like this, slut? You like being my little fuck toy for me to use whenever I want?"

You desperetly searched for friction on the bed covers as you whined, only to accidently apply more overwhelming pressure to all 3 clamps.

Carol's cunt dug harder into the back of your thigh as she came with a low moan, coating your skin with the evident of her orgasm.

Surprisingly, Carol didn't move from your thigh as she brought a soft hand around to the soaking space between your legs. She tugged momentarily on the clamp there and you whimpered in protest making her snicker.

She fingers teased your lower lips as she spoke. "You seemed to enjoy that just as much as I did." Carol smirked arrogantly as her fingers swiped at your arousal. "Answer me." She demanded, delivering a smack to your ass to punctuate her words.

You didn't. Instead your breathed into the pillows and tried not to think about how they smelled like Carol in an annoyingly soft way.

Carol spanked you again harshly, barely giving you a chance to adjust to the last.

"No." You lied shakily.

"Don't lie to me. You're only adding to your punishment, not that I mind. It's just drawing out the fun I'm having. Being a lying little slut gives me something else to fuck out of you too." Carol spanked you again as those words left her lips. She gripped your hips tightly and pulled you up so your ass was on full display to her.

When Carol's hand returned to your ass her hand was considerably warmer. You thought it was strange at first until she did it again, this time burning hot.

You moaned into the pillow as your realised Carol was using her powers. And you loved it. The hellish heat, Carol's brute strength and the merciless ways she delivered the blows with no recovery time hit your core everytime.

Your legs shook in pleasure and pain and your moans got notably louder. Sometimes when you tried to lean back into Carol's hand she tugged sharply at the ring connecting the chains on your clamps and you immediately returned to your position.

"Something to say?" Carol inquired after a particularly loud moan from you.

It dawned on you how close you were to submitting yourself to Carol. How close you were to telling her you loved every second of what she was doing and wanted her to fuck you.

So, to convince yourself more than the dominant blonde above you, you spoke up. "Need your powers to help you, Carol? Can't do it on your own?"

The pissed off blonde spanked you unbelievably hard after that. Your whole body lurched forward so suddenly you almost hit your head on the wall. You ass was stinging terribly and you felt a tear trickle down your cheek just after you cried out.

Carol got off the bed to once again disappear into the closet, giving you a moment to wipe the stray tear away so she could never know it was there.

When the powerful hero returned your eyes immediately fell to the obnoxious toy between her legs.

You bit your lip at the thought of her fucking you with it. Despite that, you were in denial that something that long and girthy would even fit. Although you knew Carol would make it fit. And with the blonde as pissed as she was...

"God you're practically drooling on my sheets." Your cheeks redened slightly at her words. "You want my cock, brat? You wanna be your Captain's cockslut?" God you did. But you refused to admit it, even if there was a moan caught in your throat.

"It isn't for your needy little pussy yet. It's to shut you up." Carol said as she straddled your chest, the strap inches away from your face.

"I'm not sucking your fucking strap, Carol." You tried to defy passively with an amused grin. You wanted to, so much. The thought of doing something like that was making your cunt pulse. But you might as well get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. You refused to please Carol with such a submissive act, even if you could feel the cracks in your bratty walls grow with each exchange of words and acts.

To your surprise, Carol didn't push the idea any more, simply nodding with a sly smirk, as though she knew something you didn't.

Instead, the taller woman grabbed a small device from the side of the bed you had failed to notice prior. She twirled it in her hand, as though familiarizing herself with it as she positioned herself between your legs again, a place she seemed to be becoming familiar with.

As you gazed at the toy Carol held you couldn't help but feel there was something different about it. Something you couldn't quite placed. It wasn't as slim as any vibrator you had ever seen, not as pointed either, but there was something else to it too.

You didn't voice these inquires and the blonde didn't make any suggestive comments. So you let the thoughts go.

With her free hand, Carol unscrewed the clamp that had continued to grip onto you with everything it had. The release of pressure was unimaginably relieving but you didn't get long to appreciate it.

Carol wordlessly turned the vibrator on to a high setting and teased it against your skin just above your clit. Your hips jerked instantly in an attempt to lower the vibrator to where you needed it, but Carol placed a firm hand between your hip bones and kept you in place.

You almost whined at that, trying hard to keep it at bay, but Carol soon placed it directly onto your throbbing clit. Your hips bucked again as the vibrations hit you hard. The lack of a tip stopped them being focused to one point and instead pulsed down to every milimeter of your clit.

Despite this newfound pleasure, you couldn't shake the unnerving silence from Carol that hung in the room. Just as her lack of teasing with the vibrator hung over you. It seemed as though she was purely focused on drawing out your own pleasure, abandoning any precious plans. You knew that wasn't really the case. But you didn't know what was. It was anxiety inducing not knowing what Carol was planning in that stubborn head of hers.

The silent blonde watched you as she rotated the vibrator, grinding it into you like a drill that buzzed furiously. The vibrations were sending strong shock waves to your core that were carried throughout the entirety of your body in bliss.

Just as you were about to mentally praise yourself for not making a noise the vibrations seemed to multiple at an alarming rate.

You moaned the loudest you had all night at the feeling of warmth covering your core, emitting off of the vibrator that centred in on your aching clit that was drenched in arousal. Your hips tried to buck violently in search for the source of the vibrations that pulsed almost angrily.

You finally braved a look down as you panted heavily amongst moans to see what could possibly cause such uncharted pleasure only to spot the blue, yellow and red swirls of light you had come to hate the sight of. In that moment you didn't hate them though, far from it. You were entranced by the light show from Carol.

Your legs attempted to close around Carol's hand and the vibrator, but she held them apart. She watched you with an arrogant smirk as you threw your head back and moaned continuously, just as she had planned.

"Oh? I thought you didn't like me using my powers on you. You seem to be enjoying it now, judging by your slutty moans that is." She taunted knowingly.

You're unable to muster the voice to say something, to defend your ego. All you can do try to stop yourself moaning Carol's name or title.

Your breathing became increasingly ragged as Carol's powers never let up, mercilessly pulsing waves of vibrations to your core repeatedly until your legs started to shake.

Your cunt clenched around nothing as your clit throbbed aggressively, desperate to reach it's release it craved so much.

Your moans became less coherent when your back arched and toes curled. Just as you were about to fall over that glorious edge all vibrations died down to barely noticeable sensation.

You whined lowly at the worst teasing you had ever felt. It was as though Carol held you over your much needed edge by the back of your shirt, keeping you in that vulnerable state until she decided to either pull you back or let you go.

"Do you need something?" Carol asked with a shit eating grin.

You brought your hands down to push the vibrator further against you but Carol pinned them together in the middle of your stomach with one hand. The strength of just that was able to stop you and it was frustrating to no end knowing that.

Her other hand stayed firmly attached to the vibrator that was quietly buzzing against you core. Carol occasionally messed around with the vibrations levels and the inclusion of her powers to take you by surprise, constantly keeping you on the edge of where you needed to be most.

"Jesus Christ!" Your frustration bubbled to the surface, unable to control your anger at Carol for the merciless teasing she was making you ensure.

"Nope, just your Captain." If you had control of your legs, you would have kneed her in that stupidly attractive face of hers.

The vibrations were becoming too much yet still too little. Every so often they would spike to the previous level before returning to something unfairly light. Your orgasm seemed to grow closer and closer each time before it was denied.

Once, Carol slipped the powered vibrator through your drenched folds with her powers lining it. It felt insane. Energy tickling your inner walls as the vibrations hit all the right areas. But, of course, it was quickly pulled away too.

Just like that, all defiance left your body and you surrendered to your needs.

"Carol, Please, I need to cum so bad!" You wailed in desperation, not caring how you sounded.

"Really?" Carol wondered aloud as she stared down at you.

"Yes! Carol..." You whined and returned her stare pleadingly.

"Who are you begging to make you cum?"

You gulped stiffly, knowing you were about to slip head first into the rabbit hole you had been avoiding so precisely all night.

"You...My Captain." Carol preened at the use of her title, something she had long awaited to hear you say and was sure you would need no encouragement to say it countless more times that night.

"Good girl." She husked and carelessly threw the vibrator to the side now she could use something better. "You want your Captain to fuck you? You wanna cum on my cock like a good little slut?"

Your nodded eagerly, knowing the only way was forward and that you would do anything for what Carol wanted to do to you.

"Please Captain, I want you so bad." You begged shameless.

"Well then you need to get my cock ready for your cunt." Carol stated matter-of-factly as she sat up straight and edged towards you.

The silicone toy between her legs was getting nearer to your face and your mouth watered at the sight, knowing you would need it to help accomdate the size.

You were so dazed by the sight of the toy bigger than you had ever seen that Carol had to tap your cheek to prompt you to open your mouth for her strap.

You did so instantly and without hesitation, quickly having the tip of the silicone toy at your mouth.

"Such an obidient baby now. You would do anything for my cock wouldn't you?" But Carol didn't give you a chance to respond. She thrusted her hips forward and in a flash she was forcing the strap into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat.

The blonde retreated the strap slightly only to ram it back in with more force and causing you to gag as it surpassed your limit without consideration.

You tried to sit up on your elbows to try and soften Carol's thrusts but she knelt down painfully on your arms as she gripped the headboard to aid her thrusting.

"I haven't even got you tired up and you're still so helpless." She mocked cruelly as she continued to make you gag and choke on the toy you struggled to accomdate so badly.

Eventually it became too much and you body fell limp in defeat, drool spilling from your mouth.

Carol didn't fail to notice this and chuckled darkly at the sight of you spread out on her bed with a dazed expression. She hadn't even fucked you yet.

As the dominant hero withdrew her strap she felt a rush to her core at the sight of your saliva glistening on her cock. You really had gotten it ready for yourself. Not that it would help you handle the size much.

Carol didn't waste and time lining the strap up with your entrance. Her hands were firmly placed on either of your thighs to ensure you stay spread open for her.

"Please." You whispered as you both watched the strap part your folds, paving a way for itself, before disappearing into your hungry pussy. You moaned loudly as the strap stretched your walls for it's entrance. You couldn't help but cling onto Carol's bare back and scratch the prominent muscle beneath your fingers as she sunk the strap in further.

The pain was present but it was overridden by the amazing pleasure provided by it. Your pussy clenched desperately around the intruder just before Carol bottomed out into you and you cried out at the unexpected motion, gripping onto the woman above you as much as you could.

She pulled the strap out slightly, only to slam it back in with force that made your whole body jerk and shudder. She pulled out more the next time, as though giving you a moment to prepare before thrusting the toy back into your still unprepared cunt.

You moaned over and over, struggling to form words and accomdate the brutal strap. You were overwhelmed with pleasure and pain as they took over every part of your brain, body and soul.

Her pace never faulted, never giving you a break. Every thrust was just as hard as the last, leaving you a moaning and shuddering mess beneath her.

"You feel how deep I am inside you, slut?" Carol grunted as she continued her onslaught of fucking tour dripping pussy.

"Yes Captain! Feels so good. You feel so good deep inside me." You moaned between breathless pants.

"God you're such a desperate slut for me. Dripping whore for me to use whenever I want." She punctuated each word with the snap of her hips.

The coil in your lower abdomen was starting to tighten and you craved your release.

"C-Captain." You stuttered as you started to shudder. "I'm gonna...cum."

"Beg me for it." Carol demanded and you complied without question.

"Please! Please Captain, I'm gonna cum so hard! Please let me! I'll be good for you." You begged as though Carol held your life in her hands.

"Why should I let you?"

"Because I- because I'm sorry!" You looked Carol in the eyes as you pleaded, letting you see her expression when she knew she had won. You both knew.

"How sorry?" Carol asked as her pace increased. You knew you wouldn't be able to hold off your orgasm for much longer.

"I'm so sorry. It'll never happen again. I promise." Carol watched you for a moment as she memorized every inch of you during her victory.

"Cum for your Captain." With a cry, you came incredibly hard on Carol's cock. Your whole body shuddered violently as Carol fucked you through your orgasm in the most ungentle way possible.

"I'm cuming! I'm cuming on your cock, Captain!" Never in your life did you think you would talk like this to someone, especially not Carol. Never since meeting the arrogant hero did you think you would submit to her in such a wanton way.

Carol fucked you through your orgasm and into another one without even considering giving you a break or chance to recover from the earth shattering one you had just experienced. Your vision was still spotted with blanks as you tried to speak this to her but you couldn't manage to form any coherent words, the only sounds resonating throughout the room were your desperate moans, slapping of Carol's thighs against your own and the wet sound of your pussy being fucked, this being amplified even more now that your cum was swirling around inside of you with the strap.

Carol unexpectedly reached out quicker than you could react to and locked her hand around your throat. Her pace was harder this time, as though reminding you she hadn't forgotten she was punishing you and that she was still mad at you. Clearly very mad.

The strap slammed against the back of your pussy and had you crying out in a failed attempt to adjust to it. Even that was muffled by Carol's grip on your airways.

You couldn't believe the force she was able to gather to drive herself into you with each thrust. Over and over. You began to loose your grip on the world around you.

You plummeted into another orgasm in no time, your overworked pussy spasming around the strap as it released more sticky liquid onto it that you were too blissed out to notice was dripping onto yours and Carol's thighs. She smacked your thigh hard to show she at least had acknowledged it.

You lost count of how many times you had cum. When your limbs went weak and finally dropped from Carol's back she withdrew. Something you were thankful for until she flipped you onto your front and dove back in. Her stamina and sex drive was unforgivable and unmatched. And soon, it was the only thing you knew.

You continued to moan and scream profanities into the pillow while Carol wrecked your world above you. She had your head forced into the pillows with one hand and showed no signs of letting up.

You mustered as much energy as you could to squirm away but your efforts were futile. Your pussy ached with the punishing pace and extreme overstimulation you were experiencing. But you had no way to escape it. All you could do was lay beneath your Captain, voice horse from screaming so loud countless times, and take everything she was giving.

When the final orgasm was ripped from your body it was as though it had taken every part of you with it. Your exhausted and overworked body finally abandoned you and left you to be enveloped by the darkness and the strong arms of Carol Danvers.

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE NINETEEN || BLACK FLASH

↳ featuring : basically everyone at this point from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of blood + mention of violence + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 13 april

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 4.6k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : sage

↳ next episode : nonstandard

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit, this will probably have terrible grammer issues here and there because i started this at 10:30pm and how it is 4am....ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but also fun fact, when i was writing the fight scene, i legit had to grab a chopstick and try to reenact the scene i needed to write for in the kitchen ʕ ꆤ ᴥ ꆤʔ BUT moving on from that, thank you so much for being so patient with the series and hope you enjoy this special cup of classic black coffee ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better...

Destructive Curse Spell Number Sixty Three : Raikoho (6:29-6:44)

Destructive Curse Spell Number One : Sho (4:56-5:04)

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

A multitude of running footsteps continuously pounded against the wooden floor below, as everyone was determined to get away from the special-grade curse that was chasing them at this very moment in time, as what followed everyone was a vast wave of wooden branches that was violently destroying the corridor behind them.

“Are you all right, Inumaki-senpai?” Fushiguro asked with concern enveloping his overall tone, as the mentioned upperclassmen seemed to be struggling right now.

“Salmon,” Inumaki replied, in an attempt to reassure his classmate that he was doing and going to be alright, when in fact it looked as if it was the complete opposite currently.

“Here it comes!” Kamo yelled out to warn everyone as he spun around to face his opponent, leading the cursed spirit to launch a few sharp branches towards him as well as you, once you fully turned around to make sure that your classmate from the Kyoto side was going to be safe.

“Stop,” Inumaki commanded leading his curse technique to come to effect as his voice not only echoed through the hallways but forced the curse and its attack to come into a sudden halt, leading Kamo the given opportunity to launch his technique as a rapid long-ranged shot of blood directly attacked towards the curse’s head (which was somewhat covered in burns due to your last technique before everyone started to flee by your command) causing some fragments of it to chip off to which surprised Fushiguro slight as you stood at the top of the stairs just above Inumaki.

“Hurry! He’s just gonna heal right away!” Kamo instructed everyone as he ran up the stairs causing you to give one last look at the curse before rushing up the wooden steps as Kamo has told you. 

From what you could observe, the branches seemed to be the curse’s weakest point since Kamo’s last attack managed to hit its head causing you to come to that conclusion while your curse spell managed to cause some permanent damage to the curse due to the damage that remained after. However, even if you did want to continuously use the same curse technique over and over again, to not only cause the building that everyone was residing in to collapses and burn down but it also put your comrades in danger, something that you ultimately wanted to avoid at all cost.

Hearing a small but noticeable cough, you quickly turned your head back slightly to discover Inumaki’s face glistening with sweat as he took another sip of his medicine leading you to become more concerned about how much longer he could since this plan that suddenly came about wasn’t the most practical of them all, yet...it was the best for now.

Right as you turned back to look forward, you noticed that you were coming to a door leading you to push yourself further as you reached your arm out to slam the door open before jumping over the balcony to the roof that was slightly down below leading the boys to follow after. However, mere seconds later, there was an explosive sound erupting from behind causing you to quickly turn back to find that the curse had already made a wooden pathway with its branches as a way to walk over to everyone.

“Inumaki-senpai will stop it. Don’t worry, just go,” Fushiguro mentioned as he guided Nue towards the curse, leading the shikigami to fly straight towards the opponent with no hesitation.

“No wait!” you shouted, as you reached your whole arm out like you were able to reach the owl-like creature in time. However, the second Fushiguro turned to face you to see what was wrong, the curse’s arm swiftly punctured the shikigami straight through causing Inumaki to collapse to the ground with blood seeping out from his mouth leading you to realise that your upperclassman was at his limit.

On the other hand, before you could even react, you heard someone behind you being thrown causing you to look behind only to discover Kamo’s body being flung to the other side with Fushiguro right behind him to catch his fall leaving you in the middle on the rooftop between your classmate and the curse.

“Are you alive, Kamo-san?” Fushiguro questioned in a panic since he was not only troubled by the fact that one of the students could be in life-critical condition but with you also being in danger due to where you were standing currently and him having no idea why the curse was going after you.

Steadily, your hand slowly moved towards the dark blue metal pole that has been hanging on your belt for some time as you hooked your katana horizontally on your back, so your other hand will be free to freely manoeuvre the weapon of choice that you were choosing to handle the curse.

However, it seemed as if Fushiguro had other ideas as his hands shakily began to hesitantly raise up as if he was going to summon another shikigami into the battlefield. Although, before he was able to completely commit to his plan, there was a sudden pressure laid upon his shoulder catching him by surprise as he turned to look back at Inumaki, who was somewhat struggling to stand.

“Mustard leaf,” Inumaki stated with determination with a hint of tiredness lacing in his tone, leading you to turn your head back to notice him beginning to stagger towards you.

“Inumaki-senpai...That’s enough!” Fushiguro mentioned in a worried tone causing you to grab onto his sleeve once he stood by your side, only for him to present you a small smile once he turned to you - as if to tell you that everything was going to be okay.

“Blast away!” Inumaki suddenly roared leading to curse’s body to instantly flung itself to the other rooftop that was positioned above you just a slight bit before he fell to his knees with blood began to profusely run down his mouth causing you to kneel down by his side as you supported his body with one hand while your other hand gently on his neck to begin the process of reverse cursed energy to ensure that he was going to be stable before someone was able to take him to Shoko - if someone even could at this point.

However, it seemed as if Inumaki’s attempt was futile as the special grade curse sat up with no issue at all leading you to wonder how strong this curse was since it didn’t seem to take any damage whatsoever from Kamo’s and Inumaki’s attempts leaving you to the conclusion that you had to use your curse technique at this point.

“You can’t cut me with that dull blade,” the curse stated before raising its arm to not only block but shatter the weapon Maki was swinging towards it leaving her to look at it with widened eyes before tutting in annoyance leading Fushiguro to jump over you to attack the curse with his weapon once again, only for him to miss slightly as he managed to slice off a piece of the branch that acted as its eyes.

“Now this sword isn’t so bad, but you could just give me the girl as we will call it a day,” the curse commented while healing the tattered branch causing it to grow back, leaving no trace of it ever being cut off by Fushiguro.

Although, it seemed as if Fushiguro and Maki had something else planned as your classmate reached into his shadow that was manifesting below him to replace his sword with another cursed tool before giving it to Maki, who tossed the broken tool she had to the side.

“I have something even better. This one feels disgusting to use, though,” Maki mentioned before quickly unfolding the weapon to reveal a three-sectioned staff before swiftly spinning around to swing the weapon across towards the curse, resulting in the curse to block the attack, only for it to be violently and forcibly pushed forward into the forest.

“Gojo, run towards the edge of the veil and stay there!” Fushiguro yelled out to you before him and Maki sprinted forward towards the direction to where the curse was located, causing you to stare at him in confusion before instantly turning back to check in Kamo was still right behind you to which lead to carefully place Inumaki down on his back as you rush towards the Kyoto student’s side before you proceeded to turn his body to discover that his face was damaged badly causing you to place your hand over his head leading you to heal what you could before transport arrive.

On the other hand, before you could even worry about how you were going to get both Inumaki and Kamo to the end of the veil, you suddenly heard someone calling out your name causing you to peer up to the sky, only to find both Itadori and Todo coming down towards you in a speed that not even Sonic the Hedgehog could even achieve.

“GOJO!” Itadori yelled before powerfully landing right in front of you, leading you swiftly to grab on to the top of the roof to maintain some balance while using your other arm to cling onto Kamo’s body to make sure he didn’t fall as well.

“Itadori!” you replied in relief causing your classmate to smile at you even in the tough situation you were in right now.

“Gojo, Nishimiya is going to get those two out of the veil but according to her, the veil is an anti-Gojo Satoru one,” Todo inform you causing you to look at the first-grade sorcerer with widened eyes before you turned your head to the side to observe the veil that was enveloping all the students right now.

“Anti-Gojo?” you muttered under your breath, before turning your head back towards the muscular student, only to see him smirk confidently at you before Itadori took his hand out as if to help you up.

“Don’t worry about the other two, they will be safe, we all need to head to where the curse is right now!” Itadori mentioned leading you to turn to him as you quickly noticed the amount of cursed energy that was surrounding him right now, causing you to wonder how much he has improved over the past few months he was away.

Placing Kamo gently on his back, you grabbed onto Itadori’s hand causing your friend to pull you up before Todo stretched out his arm behind you, trying to convey for you to sit there so both he could carry you to the destination where you needed to be at this very moment in time.

“Todo...I need you to follow a plan,” you sudden declared, causing him to turn to you with a confused look while you seated yourself on his large arm (which surprisingly managed to keep you still with the help of Itadori, who placed his arm behind your back). “Just promise me you won’t tell anyone about my curse technique at all, not even a single word of it,” you said to him with a threatening tone causing itadori to look at you with a somewhat frightened expression on his face while his friend peered at you with a smile.

“I’m fine with that, but I also need you to help me with one thing,” Todo mentioned as he turned his head to face forward.

“And what would that be?” you asked.

‘Ah...this is going to be a drag…’

                                                ꕥ

"Sprinkled on the bones of the beast! Sharp tower, red crystal, steel ring. Move and become the wind, stop and become the calm. The sound of warring spears fills the empty castle! Destructive Curse Spell number sixty-three: Raikoho!" you chanted, as you placed your hand out like a claw leading to an exciting orb of yellow concentrated cursed energy to manifest itself within your palm, before rapidly striking down towards the targeted special grade curse like a destructive lighting bolt leading Todo to grab Maki within his grasp a second before the cursed spell hit the ground which leads to your opponent being paralysed.

“Keeping to the deal?” Todo asked you with a smile on his face causing you to shift your eye to the side, where he stood before unhooking the metal pool from your belt.

“Yeah, I am,” you answered causing him and Itadori to move to the side for a second - which Itadori was confused about since he didn’t know what show he was in for.

Fushiguro, who was crouching down with a speck of blood trailed down on the corner of his mouth began to argue against the appearance of you and Itadori. However, it seemed as if you weren’t listening to him to or to any of the student behind you at all since you needed to concentrate on both the situation you were in right now but also on the little deal you made with Todo - even though, regardless if you were able to show him the technique or not, you knew that Todo was keeping his word about keeping your technique a secret...that was what you could rely on him as well as his strength.

‘Black Flash huh...now that is a drag…’

“Now that you are here, why don’t you come peacefully?” the curse asked, causing you to mentally sigh as it was causing your concentration to waver, but you really weren’t in the mood to answer.

Stretching out your arm, you held the dark blue metal poll right in front of the curse before letting the weapon extend itself before forming an extremely sharp blade at the top leading the curse to look at it in confusion since it seemed to notice that your katana was missing due to it remembering that it was handing behind your lower back area.

                                                ꕥ 

“This is my gift to you! Think of it as a welcome to the Gojo Clan gift!” Gojo excitedly announced as he presented you a gift box with a bright smile on his face, causing you to look at the gift in surprise since you didn’t expect him to give you anything when you came to his clan estate but also by the fact that the ribbon tied into a bow was the same colour as his eyes.

‘I don’t know if it’s because he is being egotistical or he just like the colour blue’

“Thank you,” you said with much gratitude before taking the box away from his grasp leading him to gleefully chant that you open it in front of him since he was desperate to see your reaction. 

Looking at the box, you couldn’t help but notice a little note saying ‘a gift from a father to a daughter’ leading the corners of your lip to twitch a little since you came to the realisation that it had been a while that someone had ever given you a gift before you processed to tug the tail of the bow before lifting the lip once the ribbon was fully removed.

“A metal...pole?” you said in a confused tone as you tilted your head to the side, before letting your fingertips touch the ice-cold metal as they began to trace the gold detailing that was embroidering the gift.

“No, no dear, it’s a polearm that just needs to be extended with cursed energy! It was made by your ancestor during the Heian era and I’m surprised it managed it stay intact after all that time here in the Gojo Clan since it was a gift from them to us,” Gojo informed you, as he took a sip of the sweetened coffee that you had brought from him before coming to his estate. “I thought that it might be better if it was in your hands from now on, besides it does technically belong to you,” Gojo suggested with a bright smile on his face, once you lifted the weapon out of the box to observe it more.

Turning it around in the light the room provided, you couldn’t help but suddenly notice a small design of what seemed to be a small flower depicting a tsubaki painted in a light pink right in the middle of the metal pole causing you to stare at it in absolute curiosity.

“Thank you so much, Gojo-sensei,” you stated once again in appreciation once you placed it back into the box causing Gojo to pout at you which led you to look at him in complete confusion the second you looked up to face him.

“CALL ME DAD, Y/N!”

                                               ꕥ

“Are you even listening?” the cursed questioned you as if seemed to be getting annoyed at the fact that you were just standing in front of it with no emotion attached to your face, causing the students behind you to look forward since they were beginning to become confused on why you haven’t attacked yet.

Although, it seemed like it didn’t have to wait long since you used your other hand to grab onto the pole before beginning to spin the now extended polearm aggressively leading the curse to now be on its guard since it had no idea what you were planning on now.

‘Black Flash is a distortion in space that occurs when cursed energy is applied with 0.000001 seconds of a physical hit, it can amplify a normal attack’s force by 2.5. It’s such a drag process but since this curse likes to get up close and personal, it seems like the best choice for now’

Suddenly, you quickly grabbed the polearm halting the spinning motion before using the ball of your foot to push yourself swiftly across the lake to appear in front of the curse, catching it by surprise since it seemed like you had just teleported right in front of them, only for you to violently swing your polearm down onto its shoulder leading it to groan in pain causing you to speedily spin around behind it leading the polearm to now swing across before forcibly landing the sharp blade to its side, suddenly causing the formation of a familiar black spark that danced around the area you were in like electricity currents causing Todo (who was observing from the sideline) smile at the scene with confidence, while Itadori looked at the same battle in shock.

However, before Todo could even call you to remove yourself from the battle, you instantly placed your hand above the other in order to rapidly rotate the polearm leading the other end to strike its other shoulder (while the blade was now facing downwards) causing another flash of black to appear once again to which lead the curse to cry out in agony, causing everyone to admire the fight with such astonishment.

“Gojo! Switch!” Todo yelled out, leading your concentration to instantly waver once again which caused you to push the heel of your back foot to quickly retreat to the side where everyone was before the curse could even afflict any attack on you in retaliation on what you had just done to it.

“Told you there is nothing to worry about,” Todo mentioned as he looked down at Fushiguro causing the shikigami user to look at you with his surprise before turning to look at Itadori.

“If you die again, I’ll kill you myself!” Fushiguro declared causing you to look at him with a complete perplexed look on your face since the sentence he just stated didn’t make any sense, leading Panda to extend his arm out to carry his lower classmen to the other side of the veil.

“Pandash!” Panda yelled out before carrying both Fushiguro and Maki to safety.

“Guess I can’t afford to die now,” Itadori muttered before rolling his shoulder to prepare for his turn on the battlefield with determination after witnessing your performance.

“I won’t lift a finger to help, Itadori. Not until you land a Black Flash. If you can’t land a Black Flash, then I’ll just watch you die, no matter what happens to you,” Todo declared with his arms crossed with one of his hands holding on to your katana, leading you to stand up straight with a dumbfounded look on your face after what he had just yelled out before taking your original weapon from his grasp.

‘HUH?! WHAT WAS THE POINT IN MY LITTLE PERFORMANCE THEN?!’

“Got it!” Itadori replied after letting out a breath, causing you to look at your classmate with the same surprised expression, even though his back was facing you right now.

“Don’t you think that is a bit dangerous?” you queried as you turned back to look at the Kyoto student, only for him to give you a serious look on his face as if to say that he believed in Itadori and his threat was just a fluke.

“I guess I can’t stop you then...I already know he’s got this,” you muttered before shrugging your shoulders since you knew there was no way Itadori wanted you to interrupt this lesson.

To be honest, Black Flash was the perfect move for him.

Suddenly, you heard a loud explosion from behind causing you to turn your whole body around to find Itadori punching the ground leading a huge splash of water to arise before noticing two pieces of rock attempting to strike the curse, only for them to be deflected the second it touched its hand.

Once the water dropped down, you witnessed Itadori’s fast reflexes as he managed to dodge the curse’s attack, landing a few kicks towards its stomach before Itadori used his last kick to target its face. However, you could tell then intensity was low meaning he wouldn’t even hit a single Black Flash with an attempt like that, only for the result you had come to happen as he attempted the technique once he landed a punch against the curse’s torso, only for Itadori to force himself back once the curse retaliates by trying to hit him with its branches, only for the effort to be futile.

“My friend,” Todo said causing Itadori to look at him, only to receive a smack across the face leading you to look at the scene with a fed-up expression since the connection on Todo’s hand and Itadori’s cheek was quite loud for a normal slap to sound.

‘What...The...Hell?’

“Anger is an important trigger for sorcerers, sometimes then can be taken down purely because they accidentally angered their foe and the opposite is also true. Sometimes they lose because their own anger disrupts their cursed energy, so they can’t exercise their abilities. Your friend has been wounded, and worse yet, they’ve rained on your honeymoon with me, you best friend, so I can really understand why you’d be boiling with rage,” Todo expressed with understanding, only for you to look at him with an extremely fed-up expression depicted on your face.

‘I don’t think the ‘best friend’ bit is why he is really angry, you drag’

“But that rage is too much for you, put it away for now,” Todo then informed Itadori before slapping his face again leading you to vocally express your confusion about the scene that was happening right in front of you.

“Huh?” you uttered out.

“Are those stray thoughts gone now?” Todo questioned with a small smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah, not a single one left. Thank you so much, best friend!” Itadori replied with a confident smile on your face leading you to tilt your head to the side as you witnessed this scene - if you were going to tell this to Kugisaki, you wouldn’t know if she would believe you or not…

Walking back out into the river, Itadori raised his fist up while peering at the curse with an intense stare only for his opponent to quickly push itself forward leading Itadori to follow as branches began to invade his side. However, it seemed as if Itadori hadn’t noticed them at all since he was directing going straight down the middle, leading his fist to make contact with the curse’s torso causing the manifestation of the black spark that you and Todo were waiting for.

“He did...it,” you muttered in amazement as the curse’s branches suddenly disappeared while its body was forcibly pushed back.

“Now you understand the taste of cursed energy,” Todo mentioned as he proceeded to walk into the shallow river with a proud smile on his face. “Up until now, you’ve just been throwing an ingredient you’ve never tasted before into a pot and boiling it without knowing why. But after experiencing Black Flash and understanding the taste of your ingredient, your cursed energy, you stand on a completely different level as a chef than you did three seconds ago. Congratulations, brother, you can become strong,” Todo then expressed with joy leading your classmate to look at him with a concentrated expression on what he was trying to explain.

‘I guess that is a good way to describe it. To be honest, it is kind of similar to Gojo’s teaching but a tiny bit better…’

“It can heal?!” Itadori asked in shock, as it noticed the growth of the curses’ hand.

“A cursed spirit’s body is made up of cursed energy. Unlike us, they don’t need any advanced reversed cursed technique to heal like how Gojo does. An injury like that is nothing to a special-grade, but there’s no doubt that it shaves away their cursed energy and if you crush their head, it’s game set,” Todo explained before turning to look at you with a 

“Now, shall we get cooking?” Todo asked you and Itadori in an assertive tone, leading you to look at him with a surprised expression before sighing as if you had a choice to not fight anyway.

However, before you could even take a single step into the river, you notice something from the corner of your eye causing you to raise your polearm swiftly seconds before you were now suddenly violently pushed back to extreme lengths away from the battle you were going to involve yourself in causing Itadori to yell out your name in complete panic. Although, there was no point in chasing after you, as you were now concealed within the multitude of trees that were surrounding the area with a hooded intruder, who was now keeping you at more than an arm’s length away from the two students you were supposed to keep an eye on.

“Destructive Curse Spell number one: Sho!” you chanted, leading a small ball of concentrated cursed energy to form in the middle on your polearm leading to the weapon and the person, who was pushing you, to be blasted back leading a distance to be created between you both giving you the space to press your feet down onto the ground to gradually pause your movements as you placed your hand on the ground to give you more support.

“Who are you?” you asked in anger before standing up straight in a defensive position and you aimed the polearm’s blade downwards to the ground, leading the person to raise up what seemed to be a pair of tonfa’s like the ones Fushiguro had earlier during the event, only for them to be metal rather than wood.

“WHO ARE YOU?!” you queried once again, getting irritated at the fact that the person was just giving you the silent treatment which caused them to giggle slightly as your frustration.

“Isn’t that a warm welcome for someone that took care of you so dearly?” the person spoke with a soft tone, causing you to freeze up in shock after realising how familiar that tone was to you to which lead the instructor right in front of you to slowly remove their hood leading their hair to spill out as well as to slowly reveal their face to you under the light the tree could, causing you to let out a breath of shock as your eyes widen at the sight in front of you.

“Mother?”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[cacoetheswriting]

little mystery

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: tattoos, alcohol consumption, gambling/betting money, mild swearing (i actually don't think there is any but just in case), baby spence!!, no smut/or implied smut but it reads a little dirty (so i’m gonna rate this 18+ anyway) Word Count: 1.8k Summary: Bets are placed to see who can be the first to figure out the secret location of your tattoo, and what the tattoo is.

A/N: i was browsing pinterest for my next ink inspiration (the whole country is currently in lockdown, but a girl can dream), when i stumbled across a particular tattoo, featured in this fic, and this idea just came to me ah i hope you ENJOY!

 -

“A recent study concluded that people with tattoos are more likely to be so called experience seekers, and they tend to lean more towards rebellious, non-conforming lifestyles.” Spencer stated glancing between the group. His eyes lingering a little longer on you. “Research also shows, people who choose to get tattooed feel a stronger need to claim their identity and stand out from the crowd.”

Derek chuckled while taking a sip of his drink. “Kid, not everyone that has a tattoo is an attention seeker or a criminal. Many who get inked lead perfectly normal and stable lives.”

“It’s a form of self expression.” Morgan continued. “It doesn't necessarily mean people with multiple tattoos are wildings. I mean look at Y/N, she’s got like ten and she's far from a non-conformist.”

All heads turned in your direction.

“Ten is an over exaggeration Morgan.” You replied with a light giggle before looking directly at Spencer. “It’s eight. I have eight tattoos.” You said shooting him a smile. A mix of intrigue quickly spread across his features.

Of course, he was aware you had a couple of tattoos. Like the tiny heart on your left index finger. The crescent moon just above your right elbow. Or the rose on the inside of your left bicep. Given that the two of you were similar in age, the young doctor didn't think you would have that many.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s a huge difference.” He teased, granting Penelope to nudge him in the arm. The bubble blonde then turned to you. “You have eight tattoos?” She asked with a raised brow. “How come I didn't know this about you? I know everything.”

“Because you never asked me and eight really isn't that much. Plus they’re all pretty simple and dainty. Well... actually... all apart from the snake slithering between my boobs.” You responded nonchalantly causing the males at the table to simultaneously choke on their drinks.

The girls all whistled before erupting into laughter at the suddenly red faces of the three boys. Hotch stared silently at the half-empty class in his hands, Derek nervously cleared his throat, while Spencer gaped at you completely wide-eyed.

The image you just painted circulating in his mind.

“Don’t be shy, tell us, any other risqué body art?” Emily chimed once the laughter died down.

“Uhm, there is one but I really don't think it’s appropriate to share.” You answered, a sly smile circling your lips. JJ and Emily both groaned at your response. “Now you have too!” The blonde exclaimed, but you just shook your head.

“Only a handful of people know what it is, and where it is.” Your eyes locked briefly with the brunette doctor sat across from you. Not enough time for anyone at the table to notice, but enough to get him a tiny bit flustered.

“What if we guessed?” Emily enquired, her eyes sparkling mischievously. You giggled. “If one of you manages to guess both what and where it is, I will tell you whether you’re correct.”

“I want in on this little bet.” Derek chimed confidently. “I can get you talkin’ hot stuff.” He shot you a playful wink and took another sip of his drink. Hotch snickered next to him. “I wouldn't be so certain Morgan.” “Oh, and you think you can?” Derek asked sarcastically. “Maybe.” Hotch poised, shrugging his shoulders.

“Right.” JJ clapped her hands. “Let’s make this interesting. Everyone that wants to take part place a ten dollar bet on themselves, and the winner will take the pot.” She turned to you. “We’ll give you the money for safekeeping and once one of us guesses correctly, you can rightfully pass the cash onto that person.”

“Sounds good to me.” You replied with a grin. “But what if none of you guess? Who keeps the money then?” “Do you forget who you work with? We’re FBI agents, profilers, one of us is bound to figure it out.” Morgan stated making you giggle.

“Okay, if you say so.”

“Oh! And whoever wins gets to see this mysterious ink of yours.” Emily added teasingly.

Just like that a pile of cash formed in the middle of the table. You reached out to grab it when a hand slowly slid across with a neatly folded ten dollar bill between two fingers. Your eyes snapped up to meet the determined gaze of none other than the resident genius.

“I want to take part too.” He said, trying his best not to appear jittery. The grin currently embellishing your features swelled, and Spencer took note of the devilish sparkle in your eyes. “Well all right.” You responded, fingers brushing lightly against his as you retrieved the money. An instant spark tingled through both you and Spencer.

The night carried on. You were bombarded with questions that would give the team any sort of clue as to what the tattoo could be, but you didn't budge. It was a lot more fun seeing your friends struggle. The only person that didn't say anything further on the matter was the young doctor sat across from you. In true Spencer Reid fashion, he simply listened and observed.

About an hour later, he accompanied you to the bar for another round of drinks. After ordering for everyone, you quickly glanced at him. “What’s going on in that big brain of yours?” You asked causing him to break away from his thoughts and turn his attention to you. He lightly scrunched his nose.

“I’m just wondering when is the most appropriate time to tell everyone what your secret tattoo is.”

Your mouth parted ever in shock, eyes widened. “There is no way you know.”

“Actually, I not only know what and where it is. I also know when you got it and why.” He stated confidently.

“Alright then, tell me.” You challenged taking a step towards him. Spencer stiffened for a brief moment. Your sudden closeness caused the heat to rush to his face and his heart to skip a beat. All he could do was hope you didn't notice; which of course you did.

With a raised brow and your fingers tapping lightly on the wooden bar, you waited for Spencer to respond. You were about to say something like, ‘See, I knew you were bluffing.’, but he cleared his throat. Regaining his confidence.

“It’s the word ‘bite’ written in cursive on your ehm, on your left b-buttcheek. And you got it your freshmen year of university as a result of a drunken game of truth or dare with your friends. I believe it was either getting the tattoo or shaving your head.” He was, of course, correct. Every word.

You stared at him in disbelief. This you definitely did not expect. Spencer on the other hand seemed quite pleased with himself. It’s not often he’s the one to rattle you.

“H-how, how did you-” You shook your head. “You know what, never mind. I don’t want to know.” Your lips twirled into a smile. “Congratulations doctor.” Without really thinking, you leaned in closer and placed a soft kiss on his cheek causing once again for the blood to rush to his face. Once you pulled away, his hand immediately travelled to the spot.

“What, uhm, what was that for?” He asked and you shrugged. “An extra prize considering it didn't even take you ninety minutes to win. I hope that was okay?” He quickly nodded his head. “Ye-a, yes.” “Good.” And with that you kissed his cheek again.

He couldn't help but grin proudly as the two of you ambled back to the table, each holding a tray of drinks.

“What’s got you so happy, kid?” Morgan asked, drawing attention to Spencer’s expression.

“Spencer just won your little bet.” You replied, placing the tray down and reaching into your purse for the money. Although his win was definitely part of the reason for his increased good mood, it had more to do with the spot on his cheek that was still tingling from your kiss. But he’d never say that out loud.

Gasps of shock echoed through the team. “What?! There is no way he’s won already!” JJ exclaimed. “He cheated. Did you give him extra hints because you have a soft spot for him?” Emily accused, narrowing her eyes.

“Nope.” Your mouth popped. “He definitely won fair and square.” You stated before shifting your body weight to look the young doctor. Smiling, you handed him his winnings. He didn't hesitate to take them, eyes never leaving yours.

“Well pretty boy, what is it?!” Derek enquired eagerly. Spencer waited for you to nod your head before turning to address the team. He revealed the design and location of your secret tattoo in one breath as you watched, finding their reactions amusing.

“How did you figure that out?” Penelope asked.

“A little mystery never hurt.” You chimed before Spencer got a chance to respond, and proceeded to intertwine your fingers with his. His head snapped first down at your glued hands, and then up at your face. He wanted to ask what was happening, completely forgetting what else the winning prize entailed, as you were leading him away from the table.

Morgan and Emily whistled after the two of you, the rest of the group laughing.

It wasn't until you were walking into the bathroom, locking the door behind, that the realisation hit Spencer. He swallowed his breath and opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

You quickly noticed the nervous look on his face. “We don't have to do this if you don't want to. If you’re uncomfortable.” You said in your usual kind and caring tone.

“No, uhm, it’s okay. B-but if you don't want to?” He mumbled. “I don’t have to see it if you don’t want to show me, or anyone for that matter. We can just pretend.”

You smiled at him, your hands travelling to the zipper of your jeans. “A bet’s a bet, and like I said, you won fair and square.”

“Y-you, are you sure you don't want to know how I figured it out?” Spencer asked, voice breaking. The palms of his hands began to sweat. He wasn't sure where to look. Did you want him looking directly at you? Or was he supposed to keep his attention on something else until you were ready to show the tattoo?

“A little mystery never hurt.” You repeated what you said earlier to the group and pulled your pants down, just low enough to display the tattoo in question.

Spencer’s gaze landed on the writing. At this point his heart was hammering inside of his chest, and he was sure it would explode any second. His eyes widened as he slowly licked his lips. He was sure this was the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

“Do you like it?” A seemingly innocent question, although the intention behind it was anything but.

Spencer nodded his head. “I-I...y-es, I do.” His eyes gradually moved up your body until they once again locked with your gaze. His pupils now flared.

A mischievous smirk escaped your mouth. “I always knew you had a naughty side, doctor.”

-

spencer reid taglist: spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​, @idroppedmygourd​​, @averyhotchner

masterlist

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding X

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV - - - - - Part V - - -  - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII - - - - - Part IX

“I realize this is incredibly difficult,” the Nautolan Soul Healer said calmly. “But in order for us to help Obi-Wan, we need to determine the cause of his current disconnection with reality. Based on the drug panel, and convenient surveillance, we have, to the best of our ability, ruled out temporary psychosis brought on by a drug interaction.”

Cody stiffened further, not sure how to react to anything anymore. When a brother tried to end his own life, it was usually obvious why.

Sife Aerdo continued on. “There have, of course, been cases of Jedi Seers giveing into their fears of the future, or losing their sense of reality, but every case study involving such an extreme reaction was the result a gradual degradation over the course of many years. Nevertheless, it seems clear that Obi-Wan experienced a vision, and it may have impacted his breakdown to some extent. The more we know, the more successful any attempts to convince him of reality will be.”

Bant furrowed her brow in thought, trying to replay three decades of increasingly vague discussions of nightmares.

”Considering the high profile nature of his position, we cannot rule out some kind of psychological attack, perhaps even a darksider incursion.

Anakin leaned forward intently, the inside of his skull buzzing with white noise.

"All that being said, we must be prepared to treat Obi-Wan’s self harm as the  culmination of a long and quiet mental health struggle. He would not be the first in the Order to disguise such a thing with durasteel self-discipline.”

At that, Bant and Mace took a moment to release their feelings to the force, while Anakin raised his shields defensively.

Master Aerdo finally hesitated, before continuing in the same smooth tone. “I would ordinarily prefer to structure this kind of conversation quite differently- allow Obi-Wan time to share his feelings first and invite you each separately to support him in the healing process. But he’s gone from fighting sedatives and force compulsions as though the fate of the galaxy depended on it, to a self-induced coma. All while barely lucid, yet still somehow maintaining Master Class mental shielding. We need to get a better understanding of his mental landscape if we’re going to even begin the process of treatment."

It is necessary to note that everyone in that room had led, in one way or another, a somewhat miserable life. This was the main reason none of them could claim that the next five hours were the worst they had ever experienced. 

“But he’s always had terrible sleeping habits.” Anakin said hoarsely.

“Yes, but I think they got worse after Qui-Gon passed,” Bant argued, not sure what point she was making. 

“When I pointed out he couldn’t be getting more than three hours a night he told me that he could manage on meditation” Cody offered irritably.

“That’s technically true,” Mace confirmed. “If the Master in question is well-balanced otherwise”

“So its like his eating habits, crushing responsibilities, and repeated exposure to violence, then? Completely fine for a Jedi, in less it’s not, in which case it’s a major red flag?” 

“I think it would help to establish a timeline.“

Aerdo actually dredged up old mission reports, leading to the group reluctantly contacting Ashoka for her memories of Mortis.

At her Master’s insistence, she told them everything she remembered, hazy as it was, nervously elaborating on her own memories of falling. To her confusion, Master Windu all but brushed past that, assuring her that the important thing with stepping into darkness was the choice to the return to the light. Anakin bizarrely agreed with Windu. Out loud. Unnerved by the cooperation more than anything, she put her holographic foot down and demanded to know what was going on. 

Anakin took the comm-link into a separate room to speak privately.

Upon return, he informed the group (with a visibly red and puffy face) that Kit would be escorting her back from Mount Cala cleanup early, daring anyone to disagree. Windu nodded and the conversation continued on.

Together they rewatched holo-footage of Obi-Wan laughing amongst Ghost company the night before last, and debated reports from psychometric investigators who had scoured the cantina as well as Obi-Wan’s personal quarters for traces of illicit substances. Between that and another drug panel, they were finally forced to conclude that despite the timing, the alcohol at most confused Obi-Wan’s perception of a vision, or possibly simply loosened his tongue.

Bant prodded Cody to repeat every word from the holocar ride to the temple, taking furious notes. Cody was unable to stop the heat that crawled up his face.

Just when the looming horror of Obi-Wan actually preparing to intentionally die started to break over Anakin, Windu interjected.

“You don’t see what I do,” the Harun Kal said grimly. “Something galaxy-sized shattered around Obi-Wan and he didn’t break from it. The closest comparison I have is Master Yaddle’s presence when she meditated on her confinement. He’s chosen to keep going, even when, quite frankly, death would be a release. We’re missing something fundamental.”

“He said there were ‘other dark forces at work.’ Even if the fight was objectively hopeless... there’s no way he would choose to die because of it!” Anakin agreed vehemently, shaking off morbid fears.

“But he did choose to die.” Cody said quietly. And the wind went out of Anakin’s sails.

“Lets go back.”

Anakin gritted his teeth as they picked apart everything ‘unusual’ Obi-Wan had said and done leading up to his visit with Bant.

“What exactly did he...”

“So Plo Koon was able to get a read through his shields?”

“Did he have anything to eat?”

“How did that compare to...”

“When he's mentioned things in the future...did it seem good or bad to you?” Bant asked.

“Bad.” Cody and Anakin said in unison. Remembering the trip to the temple Cody spoke again, “Definitely bad.”

“Right. When we were talking he sometimes used the wrong tenses for things, people. I confronted him on not knowing ‘when’ he was after Knight Skywalker left. He told me that he knew what was real, but he was “enjoying not fully living in the moment” he also said that he intended to “wake up”

“Enjoying? That’s the exact word he used?” Cody asked incredulous. 

“He did seem...mostly happy yesterday. Giddy, at points.” Anakin said, slumping in on himself.

Bant looked at her notes once more before addressing the group.

“This isn’t vision psychosis in any manner I’ve heard of before...but I think I might have a theory. He used to have intense visions when we were kids; plenty of us did sometimes, but Obi-Wan would be unable to sleep after. What terrified him more than anything was the uncertainty that he might make the wrong choice- even when the vision was about something good, or neutral. His visions gradually stopped coming around puberty. We just had a conversation about this a few months ago- how relieved he was to only have to manage flashes of precognition. If he had a random, horrifying vision of a terrible future...suicide wouldn’t be his reaction. It’s too final.”

“Even if he blamed himself for what he saw coming?” Mace asked.

“Especially if he blamed himself.” Bant said. 

“What’s your theory?” Aerdo prodded.

“What if...what if he was telling the truth when he said he could separate out what was real and what was not? What if there was no distortion or blurring between now and then? What if he was just wrong about which was which?”

“That...would be a very extreme and abnormal manifestation of force-induced psychosis. He has training in distinguishing reality from visions. The continued presence of his mental shielding means that the fabric of his mind can’t be so horrifically collapsed in on itself.” 

“What if the vision was actually that realistic?” Bant said, pushing back against the soul healer. “So detailed and vivid that it effectively was a reality in itself, and everything else, all of us...”

“Were just memories” Anakin finished. “It would...actually explain pretty much everything. You said he wanted to wake up and when...when I found him.” He stopped, swallowing. “When I found him, he argued with me...what if he wasn’t trying to hurt himself? If you’re right...that would mean I found him trying to get back to reality.”

“It could explain his behavior in the halls...his desperation to wake...” Sife mused “But it runs counter to every other experience I’ve had with those managing prophetic visions. Master Windu, could that explain the shatterpoints you saw?”

“I’m not certain. It would have to have been extraordinarily real to create the echos of Shattering I witnessed. I don’t know if that depth of vision has occurred before, but then again, many things are possible in the force.”

“You really think he might have been...trying to wake up from dream? By killing himself?!” Cody asked incredulous.

“If that ends up being what happened I am going to give him such shit. That is the worst way to end a vision.” Anakin replied.

“Yes. It is.” Bant said pointedly. “That’s why it’s a last resort, after every other attempt to wake fails.” 

They all sat in silence, processing various implications. Cody was unnerved by another terrifying insight into force powers, as well as the idea that the General might vividly remember Cody being inexplicably mind-controlled into trying to kill him. Anakin was trying to understand what this would mean for them, and the conversations he had thought they had had. Did...any of it count, if he thought he was offering it to a hallucination?

“Alright, this is a valuable working idea, but let’s make sure to examine everything with an open mind before we draw any more conclusions. Anakin, what happened after you left the healers office?”

Obi-Wan’s critique of the practicalities of visiting a soul healer could be and was interpreted multiple ways. The incongruity of peacekeepers in war sparked a rehash of earlier discussion. More apologies. Self identifying as ‘crazy’ inspired new debate, especially in the context of the new theory. 

“When I saw him enter the fountain room I assumed he had had a brutal run-in with  dark force user.” Windu explained. “Based on everything we’ve gone over, I don’t understand when...but some of the more insidious sith compulsions work by taking whatever small anger or hurt you feel and magnifying them until they consume you. If Obi-Wan was already experiencing self loathing...”

Cody sucked in a breath. “Then a Sith mind suggestion would bring him to commit suicide. It...sounds like something he might do, if he was partially in control. Take the blow rather than let himself be used as a weapon against anyone else, even his worst enemy.”

“Hells, it could have been an even vaguer compulsion, driving him to attack the person he hates the most,” Bant added darkly.

Anakin buried his head in his hands, trying to hold it together. He couldn’t afford to lose control or get angry. Hells, getting angry at Obi-Wan for ‘failing him’ when in pain could be the reason Obi-Wan was currently in the healing halls. The man said he loved him unconditionally, then practically had a breakdown over how much Anakin pushed that unconditional love to the breaking point, then killed himself. How was he supposed to-

“Anakin? Are you alright to continue?” someone said.

“Yes. No. There’s more I have to tell you...I don’t know if it will help but - it was hurting Obi-Wan...I...”

“Let’s just take it one step at a time. What happened after you left Mace?”

Apparently even Cody somehow knew more about Bruck Chun than Anakin. Master Windu and Eerin told different sides of the same sad story, which spiraled back into a conversation about Obi-Wan’s inadequacy issues, which somehow devolved into a long rant about Qui-Gon Jinn that Master Windu had apparently been holding back for years. 

“My apologies.” He said afterwards, clearing his throat as the group stared, taken aback. “Old grievances. Go on Anakin, what did happened after you got to the ‘secret spot.’”

“He...was skirting around whatever was bothering him...I pushed him...told him I wanted to help...he said I couldn’t...because it was me...because of what I...”

Anakin stood up suddenly, feeling the walls of the room closing in.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I-” 

He ran out.

He turned around almost immediately, pacing in the small corridor, knowing he couldn’t leave, simply needing a minute to catch his breath.

Master Windu followed him out after a moment, not saying anything, just standing there. Watching him.

“What!” Anakin finally snapped. “What do you have to say that I don’t know already!”

“Knight Skywalker-”

“Don’t call me that! I DON’T DESERVE-” 

Anakin let out a frustrated snarl, punching a wall. The crumble of stone beneath this fist briefly made him feel better, but then he remembered Obi-Wan’s heartbroken expression in the light of an underworldly glow, and the tiny, choked sound he heard when the healers moved him and Anakin just...collapsed, falling to his knees.

Master Windu sank down gracefully beside him.

“Anakin. This isn’t about attachment issues, is it.”

“Not really, no. I mean, maybe you’ll blame attachment but it’s more about...”

“Anger.”

Anakin looked up at that, trying to regain the meditative calm he had felt for a glimmering moment yesterday, right in-between making peace in the cave and everything burning to ash. 

“You know that I have had my own struggles with anger. It is how and why I came to develop Vaapad.” 

“Yes, but you’ve Mastered your anger. And you’ve never...never given in to hate.”

A beat passed and Windu watched some of Skywalker’s familiar breaking points flicker into view. 

“You’ve done something. Something you know the Jedi won’t forgive.”

“Obi-Wan forgave me.” Anakin said, whispering. “He said that even though I couldn’t fix what I did he loved me anyway and I just needed to...to honestly regret what I did and not do it again. I told him I’d get rid of my lightsaber and I meant it and...I thought he forgave me. I was ready to go to the Council with him, come clean about everything. And then I left him alone to get dinner and when I came back...he was holding my lightsaber. My lightsaber.” 

Anakin buried his face in his hands, shuddering with creeping cold.

“I’m not going to critique your and Obi-Wan’s attachment to each other right now. I’m well aware that much of the order has turned to personal ties to maintain their stability given the ongoing horrors of war. I am, for many reasons, wary of the risks this brings us, yet it is also true that risks do not automatically mean failure. I myself have mastered my emotions in a different manner than conventional wisdom councils.” 

Windu spoke carefully. For all that he and Anakin had similar relationships with the force, they rarely saw eye to eye on any given subject. At a certain point, Mace had accepted that the volatile young man was determined to find the worst possible interpretation for anything he said. And Mace was not the order’s most patient diplomat.

“As for your crime, whatever it is, l will tell you this: Unless you choose to renounce the code and leave our number, you will be treated as a Jedi Knight, subject to our protections, as well as our judgement. You will receive appropriate mental counseling. If you are judged to be a danger to those around you, your actions will be curtailed and monitored, possibly through temporary confinement.  The Jedi do not believe in punitive measures for their own sake, but you may be required to provide restitution to those you harmed, perhaps indefinitely. 

Silence hung perilously between them. Windu watched a tremor run through the unfathomable kaleidoscopic of shatterpoints that had orbited Skywalker since he was a boy. A small one broke inward, and an attached tangle of larger, darker ones fell away, crumbling to dust. The rest faded from view, invisible for the moment. A choice had been made, some decision that closed off at least one path to the darkside.

“There’s no one to make restitutions to.”

“...You’re going to have to elaborate on that.”

“Let’s go back inside- I don’t want to do this twice.”

They returned to the increasingly hated meeting room.

Anakin spoke in an outpouring of words about love and hate, about misplaced revenge and now uncertain forgiveness. When he finally finished, the room was deathly silent.

The three Jedi sat quietly while Cody pinched the bridge of his nose. “I guess this is why Jedi have the no attachment rule, huh? I admit I never really got it, but I suppose even if I-”

Bant abruptly lunged up, fumbling to bring her lightsaber to Anakin’s neck. Everyone jumped to their feet, except for Anakin, who stared at Bant with a wretched expression.

“MASTER EERIN! This is not-”

“Did you do it?” she asked, ignoring the Master of the Order.

“Bant!”

“It was my first thought after I saw him. We all rushed in expecting a fight, or a bomb, only to find you, insane, and him with a hole next to his heart. I didn’t want to believe it of course, but you’ve always had a violent streak that Obi-Wan, force help him, couldn’t quite soothe away. A fight gone wrong. Master Windu said it was suicide, and I believed him, and I’ve been trying to make sense of that ever since. But Mace found you after, didn’t he? After you felt guilty? Did you think he was going to turn on you?”

“Bant Eerin, you are dangerously-”

“No.” Anakin whispered.

“Obviously I might be why. But I didn’t- I couldn’t. I know I’m not good but I can’t even imagine- holding a saber against him like that. Kriff, do you not get how much I can’t handle losing people I love? I was insane when you saw me because I saw someone trying to kill Obi-Wan and I couldn’t even fight them.”  

Bant held his gaze for several lingering seconds, deactivated her saber and dropping it with a clatter. They stared at each other, breathing heavily and not blinking. She returned to her seat, moving jerkily. “I apologize Knight Skywalker. That was uncalled for.” 

“I wish I could say I wouldn’t have done the same thing in your shoes” he responded lowly. Bant made a tiny, unintelligible noise in reply. 

Cody collapsed back into his chair, holstering his blaster.  “Alright then...so after you finished sitting in the fountain room...what happened next?”

Everyone stared at him.

“What?”

“You’re handling Anakin’s confession somewhat dispassionately. We’re simply surprised.” Mace said slowly, returning to his seat at the same time as Master Aerdo fell into theirs.

Cody shifted uncomfortably. “The vod were trained in a wide range of enemy suppression tactics. While we’re extremely glad the Jedi have never asked us to employ them, I’m not...unfamiliar with this scale of deliberate slaughter. At least in the hypothetical, sir.”

“I see.” Aerdo said. “That is a valuable insight to have, thank you. Knight Skywalker-”

“Just...call me Anakin. Or Skywalker.”

“Anakin. When did this happen?”

“About two years ago, immediately before the First Battle of Geonosis.”

“And have you had any similar experiences with giving into the darkside since?” they asked placidly.

“I don’t think so but...we went to war the next day and....I don’t know if I’ve stopped fighting since it- since I did what I did.”

“Hmm. Anakin, would you mind stepping outside the room and waiting in the corridor for a moment please?” 

He bit his tongue, tasting blood, and quietly walked out the door while the Masters decided his fate. He leaned back against a wall, desperately wanting to see Padme. 

To his surprise, the door opened barely a few minutes later, and he was politely invited back in.

“Anakin.” Master Windu spoke. “Thank you for telling us this. It’s an important insight into Obi-Wan’s feelings right now, and I recognize that you could have kept it a secret. As Head of the Order, and with the advice of a Senior Soul Healer, I have made a decision. You will be assigned a personal soul healer, who you will start seeing tomorrow. Commander Cody pointed out that over nearly two years of continuous warfare, you have maintained some of the the lowest trooper casualty units of any division, by a significant margin if we evaluate based on mission risk level. Your civilian and enemy casualties will be reviewed, but even considering constant war, since your massacre of the Tuskens, you have clearly managed to at least... direct your violence away from the innocent. We do not consider you a threat to the inhabitants of the world. For the time being, I see no real benefit to limiting or tracking your behavior within the temple or on planet, but you are barred from leaving orbit. I have decided to delay a full reckoning before the council until such time that your former Master is well enough to provide his own opinion. Give me just cause, and I will have you confined to a force-suppressing cell. Do you understand?”

Anakin nodded, bowing in acknowledgment. All things considered, it was...honestly better than he expected.

“Now, as Cody” Windu paused. “My apologies, as the Commander was saying-” 

“Cody’s fine, sir” Cody said, wrung out in a way different from anything Kamino had trained him for.

“...I think we can all consider ourselves on a first name basis at this point.” Bant said with a snort. She paused. “That includes you Anakin. I really don’t know how to handle what you did but kark it, I don’t want to hate you. For myself.”

Everyone nodded.

“As Cody was saying, what happened next?”

Peace. Comfort. Hunger. A warning in the force...

-

“I tried to pull the saber back but his finger was already on the igniter...” 

“You probably saved his life. Even a second later-”

“I know, that’s almost the worst part.”

-

“-his neck”

“Why would he change weapons?”

“What if-”

-

“He said what to you and Healer Che?”

“That has to support the detailed vision idea, think about-”

“I’m sorry, Emperor?”

-

“I think we’re done.”

Anakin stared blankly at Sife. “But we didn’t figure anything out.”

“Not conclusively, but we’re unlikely to make any more progress, you’ve given me enough information to preform a meaningful meditative scan, or guide a conversation, should Obi-Wan wake, or navigate through his mind, should we decide to make a more decisive attempt at his shields.”

“Master Aerdo... I leave the final judgement up to you, but I strongly urge you to make a more decisive attempt. I am more convinced now than I was...” Mace glanced at the chronometer “five hours ago that this was motivated by a specific, external stimuli, likely dark. Do you disagree?”

“No.” they said with a sigh. “But I don’t want to underestimate how much underlying factors might have contributed to his response to stimuli, including underlying factors that none of you were aware of.”

The Nautolan Soul Healer stood up, tucking their hands into their sleeves to address the room with classical Jedi serenity. It was a little irritating.

“In any case, we all need to sleep, eat, and meditate. Master Eerin, you have the rest of the day off, I've cleared it with Master Che already. Master Windu, I leave the final judgement up to you, and I am aware that your duties as Master of the Order are unceasing, but I urge you to take some time to center yourself before returning to the council. Commander Cody, I would be more than willing to arrange soul healing for you or any of the Vod, please let me know. Anakin, you will receive a comm later today with further details on your future healing sessions. 

They bowed low, then glided out the door.

Bant stood next, bowed individually to each soul, and sped walked out.

Commander Cody cleared his throat awkwardly, “Mace- what should I tell the troops? We’re supposed to have command briefings later tonight.”

“If anyone asks about General Kenobi, tell them its classified.” I’ll schedule a briefing on the subject. Now go find Captain Rex and take care of yourself, that’s an order.”

Cody saluted, first to the high General, then to Anakin.

Finally it was just Mace and Anakin.

“Is there anyone who you trust who I can call to stay with you.” Master Windu asked.

“I can manage on my own” Anakin replied, not willing to give the Master of the Order anything else he could use against him, even after everything.

Master Windu held back a sigh.

He continued once more, making a deliberate attempt to soften his tone. “Anakin- I know we’ve had our differences, but this is not a trick, nor a trap. You’ve suffered a series of great shocks in the last 24 hours and handled them with immense maturity. I myself am struggling to deal with the emotional fallout.”

Anakin looked up at that, surprised. He didn’t seem to be struggling, but maybe that was what made him a good Jedi Master...

“As I told you before, I am not going to begrudge you the comfort of attachment. I’m rather convinced it would do you more harm than good at this point. I don’t want you flying right now, and you don’t have to be alone. I hope we have come to a better understanding today, but I doubt my presence is suddenly a comfort, though please correct me if I’m wrong. Now is there someone I can call?”

-

Padme ended her call with Master Windu extremely discomfited. She had barely heard from Anakin since he ran out on her the night before last to take care of an apparently extremely drunk Obi-Wan. He had messaged her a few times that night, promising to make it up to her, but had been comm-silent since. She had been starting to get worried, and now the Master of the Order was asking her to pick him up from the temple. Fortunately, she had already cleared most of her meetings for the week well in advance (Courascant leave usually meant THEM time, not that she was jealous of Obi-Wan, of course).

The speeder ride back from the temple was silent. All Anakin would say was that he would explain everything once they were in ‘a secure location.’ 

The door to the apartment had scarcely closed behind them when Anakin fell into her arms, shaking.

“Anakin, talk to me love, what’s wrong?” She gently guided him to the couch, arranging him so she could hold him protectively.

“Obi-Wan tried to kill himself.”

She let out a harsh gasp, “No! He can’t have, he would never-” 

“I got to him in time, but Padme... he was holding a lightsaber to his heart. It was...really close” He burrowed deeper into the folds of her dress, and she gripped him fiercely.

“Oh gods, is he-”

“He’s physically healing, but he’s still...not all there. I spent all of today locked in a room, trying to figure out if it was a Sith Attack, or an insane vision, or..or me”

“Anakin! What do you mean ‘me’ - Obi-Wan loves you, you-”

“I know.” Anakin interrupted her again, knowing he was being unfair; he was just too exhausted to be patient.

“He told me loved me. He...he...found out about what I did to the Tusken village, You should have seen his face, Padme, he was horrified, but he still told me he loved me, and he was willing to forgive me, even though he shouldn’t”

“Of course he forgave you,” Padme whispered. “You’re not a monster, Anakin, I know you would never do something like that again.”

"And then after we talked, I left him alone and he-” Anakin choked out into her dress.

Tears ran down her face, heart breaking. “That’s- that’s horrible. Anakin...it must have have been a attack, Obi-Wan wouldn’t do that.” she said urgently.

He pulled away, horrified. “I made you cry. I made Obi-Wan cry too. I’m sorry- Padme please, promise me you won’t-”

She grabbed the sides of his head. 

Her nails bit into the soft skin behind his ears as she pulled him down so they were face-to-face, vowing, “Never. I swear by the force itself, I will never choose death over life.”

He let out a relieved sigh, eyes fluttering closed.

“Now you,” she demanded

“As long as I have anyone to live for, I swear by the force, I will never choose death over life.”

She pulled him the rest of the way in for a bruising kiss. He lifted her, and they desperately clung at one another as he carried her to bed. They continued like that, clinging and grasping, until exhaustion carried him to sleep. She pulled the covers over top them both and curled around him defensively as the day slowly faded away.

Part XI

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! Reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Summary: Molly knows about the reader’s relatives and she’s not so sure to put her trust in a girl that had just betrayed her own family

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Hi! i’m so happy that you guys liked this thing! thank you so much for your support and, again, if you want to keep reading this let me know. Same note as ever, english not my mother language, so tell me if something’s is wrong.

Chapter 2: Not your family

The next morning turned out to be quieter than you imagined.

You slowly got out of bed and looked at everything around you noticing how quaint Bill's old room was. The ceiling was lined with grainy wallpaper with stacks of photographs of Quidditch players hanging from the reeds that moved from side to side, simulating the playing field; the right side of the room had a huge hole behind the small stool that tried to hide it, and from that hole a small garden gnome was sleeping peacefully with a small piece of cloth on top of his head. You stood up, walking towards the huge window that gave you a beautiful view of the Weasley's garden that at that moment was covered by a thin layer of drizzle that had fallen during the night.

Molly's fruit trees gleamed under the faint rays of the sun and you saw how a doxy from between the leaves poisoned Mrs. Weasley's apples, causing them to fall from the tree branches in a thick black mass with a foul smell coming out of it. You shook your head, excited to witness a very different way to wake up.

Even though several minutes have passed since you woke up, the house continued to remain in a strange silence that made you think that the family had decided to leave the burrow with the intention of buying more supplies or something like that. You knew that Bill wasn’t at home precisely for his obligations within the Order, so you didn’t worry about looking for him around the room, so you decided that a better option was going down to the dining room and know what was happening.

As you went down the spiral staircase, you cursed in a whisper when you forgot to put on your slippers before leaving the bedroom cause the floor was so cold that you slipped a couple of times. Back in the days, when you were still welcome in your parents' house, you had many servants who did all the things for you - putting on your shoes as soon as you woke up was one of those things - but now that your life had changed so much, you assumed that you would have to adapt and start taking care of your own needs.

Your curious eyes roamed the walls covered in family photos that caused a big warmth in your chest. In each of those photographs, all of Molly's children appeared along with their father, smiling for the camera and sending effusive greetings. A pic was hanging at the fireplace were Molly and Arthur were carrying a small white bundle crying his lungs out. You assumed it was Bill as his parents seemed too young back then and even as a small baby, you could recognize those tantrum features anywhere.

A giggle escaped your lips when you noticed a funny sequence from that same photo in which, even with Bill crying in his mother's arms, his father tried to carry him for a moment to calm him down, however the baby's cries didn’t stop. The baby was so annoyed that he ended throwing up  the milk ration that he must have had before the photo session on his father's neat shirt.

You laughed because you knew that William's impertinence was something he had carried with him for several years now.

"Bill hates those photos." You jumped in your place scared to see Molly standing behind you. Your cheeks turned red “He says that it’s embarassing but i think that’s nonsense. He was an adorable baby”

"he was," you answered, looking anywhere but into Molly's shrewd eyes. "but I guess displaying them in the fireplace isn’t the right thing to do."

“Is it not?

"No, they should be at the front door where everyone can see them”

Molly giggled as you watched the sequence of photos over and over again. A silence settled between you, but surprisingly it was not an awkward silence, but one that was allowing you to create a bond that neither of you expected. Mrs. Weaslsey brought up a rag, wiping it around the corners of the photo from the dust.

"Arthur and I had to save up for months to take those pictures," she mentioned wistfully, "we just had Bill and it seemed like a good idea to welcome him into our family with a gesture like that. Arthur was new in the ministry and wasn't earning too much, but we had that quirk and decided we could afford to skip certain things to pay for the pictures. It cost us ten galleons and it still took us four months to gather them”

“Oh” You didn't know what to say, but you just kept looking at the photograph feeling a bit uncomfortable. You never had those problems at home because your family was insanelly rich thanks to the inheritance in life that your grandfather Tim had left to his son and later to his grandchildren. Even the descendants of your grandfather's servants came to work in your house, reason enough for you and your siblings to grow up with no sense of responsibility other than your own wishes. Molly sighed remembering those times when life seemed to be easier.

"So when Bill asked me to remove it from the fireplace, I refused. He doesn't know how hard it was to raise that money, but I think he has nothing to be ashamed of, he was too adorable!

"I don't doubt it for a second, Mrs. Weasley."

"You can call me Molly," she said, walking back to the kitchen where you continued watching the way the pans moved back and forth preparing breakfast. You were not very good at cooking - in fact, you had never cooked before- however, that didn’t stop you from offering your help. So you took a pan, placed it on the stove, and decided that you would find a way to make a good mountain of strawberry-filled pancakes just like your dear nanny did. Molly observed you carefully. "I think that now that you are living with us it is appropriate to have a more cordial treatment.My son told me a lot about you”

“Just the good things, i hope”

“Kind of” You stopped mixing ingredients to look at her carefully” He told us a bunch of marvelous things about you and how you two met. Actually, what worries me the most is what he didn’t tell us”

And there was the recrimination you were waiting for. You were aware that it had to arrive sooner or later, however, you would have been grateful that it did it when Bill were by your side to give you the opportunity to defend yourself properly. You cleared your throat uncomfortably, knowing that what Molly needed to hear from your own lips was which family you came from. You continued your task with the pancakes, turning out as bad as you expected.

"I'm sorry it turned out this way, Mrs. Weasley."

"Molly," he corrected.

"Molly" you smiled slowly "But believe me when I tell you that it was me who asked William not to mention anything about my last name or where I come from. I know that in this case, with the war above our heads, it is necessary to be certain of the people who enter your family and I apologize for that, it's just ... Bill is very important to me” Molly's eyes narrowed “Since we met ... I have found a home in him and well, all that feels when someone is in love. "Mrs. Weasley shook her head, understanding the feeling." I have experienced the rejection before. When people know that Tom Riddle is my family ... they run away in fear, curse my family and even walk away from us, as if sharing a blood bond makes us as evil as he is.

“And it’s not like that?” Molly asked with a hand on her neck. She didn’t want to be like the others and judge you without knowing the full story, just as she had promised Bill the night before that she would, but it was so difficult not to remember the death of his brothers by Voldemort’s hands and to pretend nothing had happened in the past. You sighed because the eggs you cracked on the bowl got mixed with their own shell “ I've heard of the Grants before, they're all Death Eaters, including your siblings!”

“It is difficult to have to choose a side  when you don’t have your own convictions”

"And you have it?"

You looked at Molly in pain. Of course you expected those reactions from Bill's mother, she was within her right to be upset that her oldest son never told her that he was in a relationship with a girl who seemed to have the most fucking powerful and evil wizard in the world as a great-uncle. No, Molly wasn't mad, she was deadly angry, she felt like she was bursting!

Her hands became fists and without knowing how, you found yourself between the wall and Molly's big arms from one second to the other. The pancake batter was forgotten, as was the woman's promise to treat her son's girlfriend in a good way.

"How is it possible ..." Molly questioned in an agitated voice, pressing your arms against the wall, "... that a single deer leaves the nature of its own herd?" How can you ensure that one rotten apple even in a gold container doesn’t rot the others?”Your breath caught at the questions of the woman in front of you. Once again, you were aware that your presence wouldn’t be good news to them, but at least you hoped they understood your motives before judging you “Explain to me, (Y/ N) Grant, when have you seen a pig away from his equals?”

Your words caught in your throat at Molly's fierce question. Bill had talked a lot about the temper of his mother. Even if she could be really grumpy at times, she was in general a very sweet, pleasant and maternal woman with everyone; however, you didn’t fit into that generality because it seemed that the woman was determined to kill you with her own hands.

"If my presence bothers you so much, then you shouldn't have let Bill and I to stay here."

“He's my son! All I want for him is to be happy, and that's why I don't understand what he managed to see in you”

"Maybe the same thing you saw in your husband." Molly's lips twitched in anger, but you didn't stop. You hoped that she would at least understand what your words meant, because that would make it easier for both of you to try at least get along better, even if Molly seemed not to want to do it under any circumstances. How is it that this haughty little girl dared to compare herself with her dear and wonderful husband? "I'm sorry, but I don't think this conversation is going to take us anywhere."

"If someone betrays his own family ..." Molly stopped you before you walked out the front door. The others got down the stairs, seeing the scandal formed in the kitchen “The rest of us can't expect too much, can we?

Your eyes blured.

[krappykawa]

ಌ i mildly like you more than like (p.1)

— in which an incessant fan girl, a kiss, and a little bit of denial makes oikawa tooru realize he might mildly like you more than like

description. you’ve been in love with oikawa tooru for longer than you can remember. having known him for the better part of nearly 11 years, you’ve come to accept that you’ll never be more than a best friend to him. but with the help of a few irritatingly persistent fangirls and a kiss that was only meant to drive them away, a tale of unrequited love might just prove to be something more. 

warnings. language

word count. 4.2k

oikawa tooru x f!reader, childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, some angst

parts. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

author’s note. i started writing this a few weeks ago and it was originally just going to be a one-shot but it got almost up to 10k words so i just decided to split it up HHSKFJ

Oikawa Tooru has perhaps one of the strongest drives when it comes to hard work. 

His tenacity is a thing of nature, something that awes you time and time again, no matter how many times you’ve seen him pick himself up before. It might be one of the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. 

But despite how in-tune he is with his senses on a mental standpoint, his Achilles’ heel lies with his inability to pick up on the signs his body gives him when it's had enough. Well, he can, but he just chooses not to listen. 

His first encounter with a crack in that heel came in his first-year, where you had to stand on the sidelines and watch as he fell to the ground during a game with a resounded sweep of gasps around the gym. That injury benched him for more than half the season. 

It was from that point on that you and Iwaizumi decided that if Oikawa wasn’t going to take care of his own body, then it would be up to you two to make sure his head is still above water. 

So it doesn’t surprise you when your phone flashes with a text message from Iwaizumi during one of your shifts at the bakery. 

1 new message: iwa (´,,•ω•,,)♡

Received: can you come pick up shittykawa

“Tooru?” 

A figure sits slumped against the benches in front of Aoba Johsai high, his eyes closed as he lays back. There’s something beautiful about the way that he looks almost ethereal in this relaxed state, the most relaxed you’d seen him in months. When he hears his name from your lips, he slowly blinks and sits up, the aura of relaxation falling from him. 

You almost regret having said anything in the first place when he puts up his guard the moment he sees you.

“Y/N-chan!” An easy smile falls between his lips, one that could’ve easily fooled anyone else. He always was very good at portraying happiness and contentment, especially when he’d been followed everywhere by people that only really want to see Oikawa Tooru, popular ladies’ man with charm that could make your mother swoon. 

But you’re one of the select few that knew him before he learned that his charm was a crucial asset in his arsenal. You knew him at his highs and his lows, so the convincing smile on his lips doesn’t convince you in the slightest. That’s because you notice the way his arms seem to sit limply in his lap and the way his eyes convey fatigue rather than joy. You also know that Iwaizumi called you here for one thing. 

“Don’t Y/N-chan me. Iwa texted me.” 

Oikawa’s facade seems to fall at that, replaced with a troubled expression. He brings his right hand up to wipe at his face in frustration. “Listen, I don’t know what he may have said, but he’s exaggerating. I’m fine.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. He can’t seem to meet your eyes. “Well, that’s a lie considering that you’re out here right now and not in that gym,” you say matter-of-factly. 

“He physically dragged me out here!” Oikawa whines, throwing his hands in the direction of your school’s gym. 

A bemused chuckle leaves your lips as you move to sit beside him on the bench. Oikawa moves his bag to give you more room to sit, but you don’t move any closer. “And when has that ever stopped you?”

Oikawa getting kicked out of practice by Iwaizumi and even on select days, by their coach, is not an unusual occurrence. Iwaizumi has forcefully dragged Oikawa out of the gym before. Each and every time, Oikawa just marched right back in, despite Iwaizumi’s rage and his coach’s warnings. Even when his extra practice hours cause detrimental effects to his knee, Oikawa never seems to back down. 

It was something both you and Iwaizumi had grown used to in your years of friendship with Oikawa -- his incredibly stubborn determination to somehow work himself to the point of bad health. 

That’s how you know something different has happened today, because Oikawa is sitting out here on a bench rather than arguing with Iwa about how “a few more serves won’t hurt him!” (though they most definitely do, and Oikawa never seems to learn). 

You turn your head to look at him. He’s quiet now, though he still doesn’t meet your eyes. His gaze is instead focused on a dog that’s running in the park opposite the school. You know that he’s avoiding confirming your accusation. 

When it doesn’t seem like he’s going to talk anytime soon, you sigh. “All I’m saying is that if you really believed that you were fine, you would be using all your blood, sweat, tears in order to find a way back into the gym. Especially since the qualifiers are coming up.” You lean back against the bench as well, letting your eyes watch the dog happily run with its tongue lolling out of its mouth. “But instead you’re here, sitting on a bench in the afternoon. And from the looks of it, you had no intention of heading home.” 

He still doesn’t turn to look at you, the only indication that he even heard you is the mild tick in his jaw. You try not to think about how perfectly sculpted his side profile is.  

When he finally does speak, he still avoids your accusation of his fatigue and instead asks, “Why did Iwa-chan call you here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be working at the bakery?”

You shrug. “Business was slow. Besides, my boss likes me enough to let me go early today. He said I’d have to work overtime this weekend though.” 

At that, he finally turns to look at you. In the split second that you glance at him, you catch the guilt in his gaze before he looks away again. “You shouldn’t have come. You already overwork yourself being the only decent baker besides your boss that works there.”

A smile spreads on your face, your tone teasing. “Oikawa Tooru wants to talk to me about overworking myself?”

“I’m serious. You work too hard at that bakery for the measly amount that they pay you. Don’t think I don’t notice the way you try to cover your under eye circles with makeup.”

You feel your stomach jump, the familiar feeling causing your lips to tug upwards lightly. Tooru has been one of your best friends ever since you moved into the house across from his when you were seven years old. You hadn’t known when it happened, but you had come to school one day last year and just suddenly knew that your feelings were no longer limited to platonic when it came to the brown-haired volleyball captain. It’s in moments like these where you wonder how he hasn’t managed to figure your feelings out, considering how observant he is of everything else about you. 

“Yes, well I’m sorry that we can’t all look like we spawn from a god like you do. It’s seriously unfair how you can still look like that when you get even less sleep than I do.”

There’s only a hint of teasing in his voice when he says, “You think I look that handsome?” He turns to face you again, and this time there’s a blink of surprise lurking in his chestnut eyes. Especially now, with the sun casting golden glows on his hair and skin, he looks beautiful to you. 

Painfully, it reminds you about how unrequited your feelings are. Not that Oikawa has ever outright rejected you or even acknowledged knowing anything of your feelings, but him reciprocating your feelings didn’t even cross your mind as a possibility most days. Not with the group of girls that are always vying for his attention; not when his ex-girlfriend was what everyone thought was his perfect match; not when he hadn’t even attempted a committed relationship since Yua-san broke up with him all those months ago.

“Y/N?” His voice drags you out of your train of thought. You realize that you had been staring at him this entire time. 

You play off your thoughts with a roll of your eyes and turn your head back towards the park. “No,” you lie. “I just hear comments like that from your fan club all the time.” 

He nods lightly, his eyebrows creasing. “Right. Right, of course.” You’re about to ask about the odd tone in his voice when he speaks again. “You never did answer my question. Why did Iwa-chan send you here?”

“He wanted me to make sure that you actually went home instead of finding somewhere else to practice,” you say. A chuckle escapes your lips. You’re happy for the change in topic. 

“I am not that hard-headed!” You raise a brow at him. He pouts. “Fine. Maybe a little.”

“A little?”

“Oh come on, Y/N. Now you’re just being mean!”

“Yeah well, it’s payback. You’re a real pain in the ass.”

“In your ass, I hope.” 

You try to keep the blush from your cheeks as your mind takes you in a completely different direction. Suddenly, the space between you two seems too small. “You might want to rethink what you just said.” You try not to stare at his mouth as it falls open, your mind still invading your thoughts with images that you should not be fantasizing about when he’s sitting right beside you. 

“Wait.” Oikawa’s eyes go so comically wide that you almost forget your own embarrassment. “Jeez, that did not come out in the right way. Not right at all.” For what seems like the millionth time, he looks away from you, though this time it seems to be out of his own mortification over what he just said. There seems to be a blush to his cheeks, but you very well might have just imagined it. 

You let out a laugh, your arms coming up to clutch at your side. “I cannot believe that you’re supposed to be the big hotshot volleyball player that every girl has a crush on. There is not a charming bone in your body. I refuse to believe it.”

Oikawa lets out a small chuckle. “I don’t have to charm you when you already love even the uncharming parts of me. But if anyone asks, I am completely perfect. There are no uncharming parts to Oikawa Tooru. Don’t you dare spread false rumors, Y/N-chan!”

An amused snort leaves you at his last three sentences, but you decide to respond on the first part of his words. “Me? Loving you? Very unlikely.” You tease, trying your hardest to keep a straight face when Oikawa begins to pout. 

“If you don’t love me after all these years I will actually start crying right now and then those girls that follow me everywhere will come for your blood for making me cry.”

You chuckle again, catching yourself before you roll your eyes again. Next to you, Oikawa has his arms crossed with a convincing pout sitting on his lips that makes him look like a child. You smile despite yourself. “Okay, okay keep the dramatics to a minimum.”

“Then say it.”

“Say what?

“Say that you love me.”

You feel a small pang as you plaster a smile on your face. “I mildly like you more than like,” you say, not really sure if you’d be able to say those three words to him at this point in time. Not when you know that they’re true.

Oikawa’s pout deepens, but you’re adamant on not saying more. 

“That’s all you’re getting from me, Crappykawa.” Suddenly you find yourself amused at the way you managed to sound exactly like Iwaizumi. It hadn’t occurred to you that you’d spent so much time with him.

“Call me pretty and I’ll drop it.”

“You’re so needy sometimes, you know that?”

“Very much aware, Y/N-chan. As if you and Iwa-chan would ever let me forget.”

An eye roll comes easy to you and this time you don’t try to stop it. At this point, an eye roll is almost like a natural reaction to anything Oikawa says. “Fine. I’ll admit you’re not bad too look at.”

“Not great, but I’ll take it,” he concludes. “I can slowly feel the crack in my ego being restored.”

“If you want to be complimented please go seek out the never-ending stream of girls and guys that come your way hoping for even an ounce of your attention.” You hope that he doesn’t notice the mild bitterness in your voice. “I’m almost positive that they’ll be willing to tell you just how pretty you are and how everyone in the world should be in love with you.”

“They should be, shouldn’t they?” Oikawa bemuses.

A laugh leaves your lips despite your efforts. “You are insufferable sometimes. I don’t understand why I’ve kept you around for so long.”

“There you go with the insults again,” he tskes. “Have you and Iwa-chan been spending time together without me?” 

“Iwa and I are friends you know?”

“Yeah but you’re supposed to be my best friend,” he pouts. 

“You already said that line to Iwaizumi yesterday when he opted to carry me instead of you.”

“Yeah, well … I met you before he did!”

“Because you threw a volleyball at my head!”

“It was an accident!”

Laugher spills from both of your lips at the memory. It isn’t until Oikawa’s hair brushes upon your shoulder during his laughter that you realize that the space between you and Oikawa had increasingly gotten smaller. He’s so close that your thighs are only centimeters apart. 

As your laughter dies down, Oikawa’s bubbly personality begins to slip once more and the fatigue on his face becomes more evident. Eventually, he rests his head on your shoulder. You feel your stomach flutter pleasantly at his proximity. Even now, you can smell the cologne he regularly wears, the one you helped pick out back in first-year that he’s worn ever since. 

Once the silence lasts for a few moments, you finally attempt to ask him about practice once more. “Are you finally going to tell me why you didn’t fight back when Iwa threw you out of practice?” 

He sighs. “I guess you can say that I’m a little bit tired. Plus my knee hurts like all hell has reigned down.” His voice is so much different from just moments before that it’s hard to believe that they come from the same person. 

“You’re exhausted,” you say. It’s not a question, but more of a definite statement. 

“More or less,” he responds quietly. 

This time, it’s you that sighs. “Just … be careful. I get that you want to beat everyone and go to Nationals, but you’re no good to your team if you fuck your knee up so badly that you can’t play.”

“This year is our last chance,” he mumbles. “I just don’t want to look back later and wish that maybe I’d practiced just a little more.”

“You can’t beat anyone if you’re sitting on the bench from an injury that you got from overworking yourself.”

Oikawa winces at the tone in your voice. You almost feel guilty. Almost. 

“You’re going to work yourself to death. Iwaizumi and I aren’t just going to stand by and watch you dig your own grave,” you say softly. “For his sake, at least. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I’ll try,” he says. For some reason, you believe him.

The two of you sit there in silence once more, the wind blowing lightly on your hair and the sounds of a busy town echoing around you. You wish that you could bottle this moment up and keep it with you forever, even if it’s only a testament to how much Oikawa values you as a best friend and nothing more. 

The thought makes your stomach drop in the slightest bit. It’s usually easy to contain your depth of feelings for Oikawa when the air around you two is lively and joking, but you’ve found over the years that quiet moments like these are the ones that really tear at your heart. 

He’ll never know the extent of your feelings for him, and you’re too afraid to wonder what would happen if he did know. 

Oikawa turns his head only slightly to look up at you while still continuing to lean on your shoulder. “You okay?” 

You give an almost imperceptible nod. “We should head home. I don’t know what Iwaizumi might do to you if he finds you out here after practice ends,” you say. 

Oikawa nods and detaches his head from your shoulder. 

The two of you have only walked a couple of meters when you hear a group of girls squeal from not too far away. Oikawa tenses from beside you. 

“Your fanclub found you,” you say.

“I’m aware.”

He doesn’t make any move to look back at them or stop. Instead, his pace seems to speed up. 

You furrow a brow. “You don’t want to talk to them? Thought you loved their attention?”

“Ouch. You really know how to wound a man, Y/N-chan,” he says with a small smile on his lips. You take notice of the weariness in his features. “But while I do enjoy them feeding my very justified ego, I am far too fatigued to deal with them.”

You nod and continue to walk beside him. The less interactions he has with his fan club, the better your mood will be. Besides, you weren’t going to fail Iwaizumi by not doing the one thing he asked you to do and not take Oikawa home. 

A giggle reaches your ears once more, and you sneak a glance behind you. The girls are talking amongst themselves, but still obviously walking in the direction you’re headed in. 

“Well, what do you wanna do? Cause they’re coming.”

Oikawa sighs and you notice a tick of irritation in his clenched jaw. You can see a million thoughts going through his mind, but before you can ask him about them, he reaches out to grab your hand.

“Is this okay? I’m just hoping that they’ll leave me alone if they think that you and I … uhm.”

Oikawa’s hands are long and calloused, but they feel nice as his fingers intertwine with your smaller ones. You try hard not to let the little gesture get to you. “Yeah … yeah of course.”

The two of you fall into silence again, mostly due to his fatigue and your inability to form coherent words that don’t have to do with his hand in yours. You’ve held hands with Oikawa before, but it was never with the intent to make you two look like a couple. You wish more than anything that he would break the silence before you blurt out something that you don’t want to. 

Your wishes are answered when Oikawa asks, “They’re still following us, aren’t they?” Oikawa still doesn’t look back as he says it.

In your short reverie you had forgotten about the girls behind you. You sneak another glance at them and find that Oikawa’s assumption is correct.

“Yeah, they are.”

Oikawa makes an incoherent noise. “Y/N-chan, could you be a dear and describe what they look like? I have a feeling I know who exactly they are.”

You turn back again, and really take a good look at them. They’re pretty. Really pretty, you think. You wonder for a second what they could’ve done to make Oikawa so adamant on not speaking with them. 

“There’s three girls. One with cropped red hair, one with long blonde hair, and one with brown hair in a high ponytail.”

“Oh, it’s them again. I don’t know what to do to get them to leave me alone at this point,” he sighs. 

“Who are they? What’s going on?”

His grip on your hand tightens. “Ichika-san and her friends. She sent me a love letter about a month ago. I tried to let her down easily, but it seems that she has yet to give up.”

“This girl is your stalker?”

“Not quite. At least, I hope not.”

The noise from behind you two gets increasingly louder. A giggle echoes on the mildly empty street and you catch Oikawa’s name being whispered between their conversations. Now that you’ve found out about what they’ve been putting him through, your annoyance spikes. 

“Not to sound paranoid or anything, but I’m not keen on these girls finding out where you live.” 

Oikawa is quiet for a moment, his brows furrowed in indecision. It seems that he makes up his mind when he turns his head to look at you. “Kiss me.”

Your step momentarily falters. 

“What?”

He shakes your intertwined hands. “We’re already holding hands. They might get the memo if we …”

“Oh.”

“I .. I mean only if you want to. You don’t have to. I just figured that .. nevermind. It’s a spotty plan. They might still not leave us alone and --”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it.” You weren’t going to pass up a chance at kissing him, even if it’s only for a diversion. This doesn’t seem like such a bad idea anyways — you’d long since given up on him reciprocating your feelings, and this way you can kiss him while saving yourself from the possible embarrassment of rejection. 

“You will?”

“Where’s the harm? It’s just a kiss right?” You can barely hear yourself talking over the beating of your heart. “Besides, it could work.”

Oikawa shoots you a grateful smile. “Okay. Whenever you’re ready then.”

You try to shake out your nerves and instead focus your time in looking at your surroundings. The sound of giggling is still in close range when you spot a tree nearby. It’s still pretty out in the open, but not so much that you and Oikawa might draw stares, at least not from anyone that isn’t a part of the group of girls behind you. 

Gathering enough courage to not insanely mess this up, you tug on Oikawa’s hand to drag him with you in the direction of the tree. You make sure that you’re still in the line of sight of the three girls when you snake your arms around Oikawa’s neck and pull him down. 

His lips are softer than you imagined, and you’ve imagined kissing them more times than you’re willing to admit. Pleasantly, he tastes like oranges, which you don’t quite understand, considering that you can’t seem to remember him ever being fond of oranges. But then again, you can’t quite think of anything besides the feeling of his lips on yours.

Your lips move fluidly against his, soft but not entirely without passion. It takes everything in you to not kiss him with the force that you want to be kissing him with. 

Hands come down to grip your waist as he pulls you closer to him, gently placing a hand on the small of your back. You run your hands through his hair and wonder to yourself why you hadn’t ever played with his hair before. If you ever make it out of this with your senses still intact, you’d make playing with his hair a part of your regular routine.

He makes a small noise against your lips when you make the mistake of pulling a little too hard on his hair. His grip on you tightens. 

You don’t know how long you two stand there, lips locked with each other, but Oikawa doesn’t make any move to pull away. Instead he deepens the kiss by running his tongue against your bottom lip and pulling you even closer. You stifle a noise that threatens to come from deep in your throat. One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek and tips your head so that he can slip his tongue into your mouth. He has fantastic lips, you think. 

It’s only until you feel the air in your lungs begin to dwindle that you force yourself to pull away. The kiss lasted for longer than you expected, and by the way you pant with every breath, it feels like a kiss that the rest of the world should not have been privy to. 

You keep your eyes closed for a moment more, wanting to savor the moment for just a little longer. The moment you open your eyes, you’ll have to come back to the reality that this was just a one-time thing. You’ll have to come back to reality and remember that this kiss likely doesn’t mean anything to him. 

Slowly you open your eyes, and find that Oikawa’s already staring at you intently. His breathing comes out staggered, and his eyes have turned a few shades darker. What used to be a soft chestnut brown looks almost close to black. In them, you notice a flicker of an odd emotion that looks too familiar, but you don’t want to hope for anything. 

You slide your hands down to his chest. His hands are still planted on your back and face, touching you both gently and carefully. “Did it work?” Your voice comes out small.

He seems to wake up from his trance then, and turns to look in the direction that the girls were before. You look behind you to see one of the girls running away with her head in her hands. Her two friends follow after her in an attempt to console her.

“I think it did,” he says. And what he says after is so quiet you almost believe that you imagine hearing it. “In more ways than one.”

part two will most likely be up on thursday next week :)

[hopeamarsu]

Of potions and myths - Chapter 5

William “Ironhead” Miller x f!reader

Word count 3,1k

Warnings: Some insecurities, some angst, a lot of talking, mention of child abandonment

A/N: It’s decision making time!

Chapter 4 - Chapter 6

The man leaves the living room after he’s given you the news, promising to return once you have had time to talk. He stresses that you don’t need to make the decision now, but the sooner you come to the conclusion, the sooner preparations can be made.

You sit next to Will when you are finally alone. The air is heavy and suffocating around you as you turn the words spoken to you in your mind. A lifetime of heartbreak or a lifetime with someone you barely know but are inexplicably drawn to? 

“It’s your decision.”

Will’s words, spoken again in a flat tone, cuts through the haze and you whip your head up to gape at him. He remains as he is, shoulders set and his whole body tight, eyes set forward and his mouth in a grim line. He looks like a soldier headed for war, his feelings and thoughts hidden behind an iron wall and it makes you ache for him. You draw strength from inside of yourself and grasp his hand into yours. 

“Our decision. This needs to come from us both, not just one of us. It’s both our souls, both our lives and both of us here, together.” You emphasize but don’t look at him as you speak, instead focusing on his hands and fingers, tracing them with your own. The pads of your fingers discover callouses, smooth spots and rough skin as you watch the tendrils appear, complimenting his skin tone and bathing it in golden and silver light. 

You want to explore all his skin this way, you realize. Spend hours upon hours just mapping it all out, discover all his wounds and kiss them better. Trace the scars and heal as many as you can, if only through kisses and caresses. All his sweet spots and points that make him tick. But to get there you’ll need to agree on this. 

“Sweetheart, if our views don’t match, I can never ask you to change your mind. So in the end, it is your decision.” He tries to be gentle, tries to not influence you, but it only makes you more agitated. 

“So you decide that for the both of us? You don’t even want to talk about it, just resign yourself to whatever fate I choose? How is that fair?” You can’t help it, your voice raises as anger bleeds into it. You drop his hand abruptly and rise to your feet, forcing Will to look at you alarmed. You start to pace the living room, your arms flailing around you as you vent.  

“If I choose the option you don’t want, it’s going to cause so much pain in either case. If you want this and I don’t, we’ll have to spend our lives looking over our shoulders so as not to see each other again and you’ll hate me because I have forced us into it. If I want this and you don’t, I will force you to be bound into me and it will cause so much heartbreak and it’s not fair. You’ll hate me and I don’t want that.” 

Your voice dwindles as does your anger, just as quickly as it rose. There’s no use in being angry, you just need to figure out how to move forward now. You stop your movements and sigh. You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to gather your thoughts and leave all your confused emotions out of the equation.

“There is so much I don’t understand…” You mumble to yourself. Why did he growl at the elder, but not at Ben? What do the colors mean? What does a werewolf bond even mean, will you turn into one? Will the bite hurt? 

You shake your head to rid yourself of the rambling thoughts; those can be answered later, if needed. There is only one important question on the tip of your tongue, wanting to come out. 

“If you had to make the choice, which option would you get?” You ask, focusing your eyes into the wall behind the loveseat where Will sits. The rigid body of the soldier stays completely still as he ponders his words and you wait for him to answer. The hum of the connection jumps with every breath you take, your chests rising and falling in sync.

“I would choose you.”

The words come out slow, calculated and in an undertone, but you hear them clear as day. You chance a look at his blue eyes, the iron wall still high up behind them, so you cannot discern anything from them so you are left guessing. You feel like you are spinning as they buzz in your ear. His conviction in his words sounds ludacris after only a day of knowing one another. But also so right at the same time.  

“How do you know? Are you sure this isn’t just the connection talking?” You need to be sure.  

“Maybe it’s my wolf, maybe it’s the connection, I don’t know.” Will offers, holding out his hand for you to take. A beat passes and he starts to withdraw his hand, defeated. Quickly you spring into action and grasp it tight. You share a small smile as skin touches skin, feeling better and more calm already. He pulls you next to him again, but this time he turns so that your knees touch on the small couch and he keeps holding your hand, ignoring the tendrils for now. 

“But I do know this; when I’m with you, near you, I don’t want to leave. I want to be here with you, do all this with you. I don’t know if that’s love yet, but I do want to explore it and I want you to be mine. I felt it the second our eyes met at the pub.”

“Will, this is crazy! We’ve known each other for A DAY!”

“I know, sweetheart, I know. But I can’t help it and I don’t want to either. My wolf feels the same.” He takes your hand and places it on top of his heart. The thump-thump of his heart is rapid, so fast under your fingertips and you have the sudden urge to make it calm, soothe it out and make sure it doesn’t feel like this erratic ever again. 

“Do you feel that? I feel this way as I’m close to you and I wouldn’t change this feeling for anything. You make me feel alive and it's why I don’t think you are nothing. To me, you are everything. My wolf agrees and that’s why he wants to reach for you, be with you. Because of all this, I will always choose you.”    

He lifts your hand away from his chest and brings it to his lips, kissing the back of your hand softly. His lips feel soft and plump against your knuckles and you let out a happy sigh. As he releases it, your hand twitches because you want it back where it was, against the warmth and affection you felt. You refuse to call it love yet, but deep down you know it’s only a matter of time. 

You look at the man in front of you, taking in the beautiful eyes, the single second they flash into red and back to blue again. The lips you have felt on your own, the coarse hairs above them that tickles when he kisses you but causes shivers down your spine, and the sharpness of his nose, the regality it offers him. 

You glance at his forehead and mussed up blond hair, aching to mess it up further before venturing lower, cataloging the strong jaw and cropped beard, remembering how it felt on your skin as he kissed you in your kitchen and in here. How you think it would feel when he kisses you lower. 

You take in the curve where his neck meets his shoulder and it looks delectable. You would love to kiss him there, nibble and lick and suck until he’s a puddle of goo under you. 

You keep studying him, his words echoing in your mind as you try to come into a conclusion. As you do, you realize it was the only choice there ever really was. Your heart had been made up long before, your mind just needed to get there too.  

He waits patiently for your answer, though Will feels his nerves ramp up. This is it, this will determine his fate and he has just laid out all his cards and his heart at your feet. As the ticking clock provides the only soundtrack, he takes a deep breath through his nose, willing whatever deity is out there that you won’t crush it. 

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven… He counts the seconds ticking by, growing more nervous as the number grows higher and you remain silent. Just as Will is about to speak, crush his own heart, your words come out. 

“Yes. Let’s do it. Let’s complete the bond and see where it takes us,” You say and Will cannot hold himself still any longer. He surges forward and claims your lips in a passionate kiss, pouring all his happiness and his desire into it. 

One of his hands grips the back of your head and neck, flattening his palm to keep you grounded to him and the other finds its place on your hip, kneading the flesh gently as he deepens the kiss by slipping his tongue into your mouth. 

You quickly lose the sense of place and time as he kisses you, the power in it devouring you completely as you surrender to it. His mustache tickles your upper lip as he molds your mouths together and your fingers tangle in his hair, gripping it where you can and scratching your nails across his scalp.

 A deep rumble, a purr almost, leaves his chest as you hit a particularly good spot and he tugs you in closer, your legs slotting on either side of his legs when he pulls you into his lap. 

Will is nearly fully gone now, his mind fully focused on pulling sweet moans from your lips as he abandons your lips in favor of nibbling you jaw and neck, trailing an inferno behind him as he moves up and down, aiming higher until he kisses the spot just behind your ear that makes you shake in his arms. With a low chuckle, he comes up for air, murmuring sweet nothings onto your lips. 

“Will - gah, Will, we need to…” You tug on his hair, relishing the rumble that leaves his chest. As much as you wish to disappear into him and into this, the nagging feeling that you are in his brother's house keeps you somewhat coherent. 

“We need to do what, sweetheart?” The man has a voice made of honey and sin as he traces your collarbones with his tongue. You really do want to throw caution to the wind and complete the bond here and now, on this small loveseat that barely fits you both. “Pope…” You manage to gasp out, his teeth grazing on your shoulder makes you nearly black out. 

The single word seems to sober him up quickly and Will rips himself off your body, the red eyes wide and predatory as a reminder of just how far he had gone. “You’re right,” he pants, eyes tracking the saliva on your skin with hunger. 

He can feel the desire to bite just under the surface and as he touches his teeth with his tongue, he feels them already changed a little, becoming more pointed and sharp. It takes him a second to pull himself back before he winks at you.  

“Can’t have you thinking of other men while I have you on top of me.” The grin on his face is playful and wolfish. You match his grin and place your palm against his cheek, stroking it gently. He barely avoids nuzzling into it and purring, but only barely. It feels too good and his heart is elated that you want this as much as he does. 

“I can assure you, he was not in my mind because what you were doing wasn’t enough.”

“Mhmmm, but I wasn’t doing a good enough job if you can still think.”

“Behave,” You tease him gently as you untangle yourself, rising up from the couch and he follows eagerly, his huge paw finding the sliver of skin that has appeared with your wonky shirt. 

He traces his forefinger on it, teasing the waistband of your pants as he watches mesmerized the golden swirls that appear. He tries to follow one, but it seems to swirl away from him as others appear to mix in on the joyous dance.  

“Will?”

“Hmm?” 

“We still need to talk with the elders on how to move forward. And I suspect your brothers are anxiously waiting just outside,” you nod towards the front door, something he hasn’t even realized was closed firmly. He agrees but not before pulling you tight into his chest as he buries his face on the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent he’s already addicted to to ground himself. 

“Let’s do this.” He finally releases you, but keeps you tucked in as you step outside the house together. Will’s eyes immediately hone in on brothers; Benny sitting on the porch swing, Frankie leaning over the railing and Santi with his back against the wall. 

They all jump up when the door closes behind both of you and turn to face you. The two older men remain neutral but Will can see a grin trying to break its way free on Benny’s face as he looks at how close Will is keeping you. His little brother always did have a romantic streak in him. 

“We are going to try and complete the bond,” he tells them bluntly, not wanting to hide anything from them. Benny lets out a small ‘whoop’ and barrels into him, making Will lose his hold on you as he hugs him tight. You step away discreetly, allowing them to have their moment as Frankie sides up with you.

“Are congratulations in order then?” The tall man mumbles as he settles into an easy stance, arms crossed loosely and feet planted wide. His tone is mild but you can sense the underlying curiosity and slight worry over this.  

“Mhmm, we are going to try. We still don’t know all the details or even how hard it will be, so…” You let your voice die down, he’ll catch the drift you hope. He nods, keeping his eyes forward at the two brothers.

“We are brothers and a family, but those two are related by blood, so their bond runs a bit deeper. Benny is younger and Will’s always been the one he’s looked up to. Their mother, Mrs Miller, she - uuuuhhh - she left when the boys were young, I don’t think Benny was even three. Their father came to us and asked to join our pack, since their previous one kicked them out because of the sins of the mother.” 

Frankie takes a small pause, warmth in his eyes as he looks at the two blond men together. “My grandfather, who was one of the elders then, was the one to welcome them in and we’ve been tight ever since. Santi, Pope, joined not soon after and we all trickled into the military and Delta one after the other as we grew up. It’s always been us and always will be us together.”

“So that’s why he didn’t growl at Benny,” You murmur, mostly to yourself. Frankie nods, having heard your words and goes on to explain that a wolf will growl and snap at anyone who they deem a threat to family and loved ones, ultimately attacking to protect if needed. Within a family though, touching and closeness is encouraged. That’s why they are so physical with one another, he tells you. Actually, having the pack scent mark you at some point might be beneficial, the older man muses.

All this pack business thrusted against your brain produces a lot of good images and fantasies that your mind is spinning. It feels a little too much too fast, so you steer the conversation back into safer ground by looking fondly at Will nudging Benny on the shoulder in a playful manner. 

“He's very lucky to have all of you.” 

“We are lucky to have him. And all their family in fact, a lot of Millers joined our pack after them and expanded it. Hence why it’s called Miller-Morales pack now, even if it was originally just Morales pack. There are other families also, like the Garcia’s,” Frankie nods towards Pope, who has now joined his two brothers on the porch and the men are talking amongst themselves. 

“The name is because we are the two biggest families around and Morales being the founding family, but the duties and responsibilities are divided equally among everyone. Each family chooses an elder and all elders form the council to guarantee fairness and voice for all.” You did wonder about that and it makes so much sense as Frankie explains it all. It also gives you a sense of just how big the pack is, since there are six elders.

He startles you then by grasping your arm into his warm one for a second. He looks you deep in the eyes, keeping the connection as he speaks. “He might not say it, but I can already tell that this bond means everything to Will. He’s been through a lot, too much in fact, and we all want only the best for him. The man deserves nothing more than happiness. I hope you realize that.”

“I do.” You whisper softly, your heart beating harder in your chest at Frankie’s confession and slight challenge. It makes you grin that they are looking out for Will and while you didn’t expect to have the talk with one of his brothers, having Frankie do it makes perfect sense. With a soft smile, the man tips his ball cap in your direction and steps to slap Will in the back softly, joining the conversation.

You take the moment of silence and begin thumping through your phone, adding things into your notes so you can keep track of the questions still swirling in your mind. You need to get to your workstation, you decide, after the list grows in length. Who knows how long it will take the elders to gather all the needed information? And you can’t just sit tight and wait, you decide, your inner researcher excited about the prospect of digging into a mystery. 

“Will?” You hate to interrupt the boys talking animatedly with one another, but you know you have to. “How good are you with books?”

*

Of potions and myths taglist: @mylifeisactuallyamess​ @luxmundee​ @innerpaperexpertcloud​

Everything taglist (I fully understand if you want to skip this one, please let me know and I’ll remove you!) @clydesducktape​ @wayward-rose​ @themuseic​ @miraclesabound​ @clydesfavoritegirl​ @a-true-janian-reply​  @10blurredsmoke10​  @caillea​ @mariesackler​ @princessxkenobi​

[kannra21]

Sniperhaul fanfic

ˡᵐᵃᵒ ᶦ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᶦᵉᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶦ'ᵐ ᵈᵒᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᶦˢ

Overhoe finally broke out of Tartarus after a very long time. However, he couldn't have done it without the help of a certain villain mistress. 😏 Who's she and why did she choose to help this terrible (x2) man? Find out bellow.

characters: overhaul (chisaki kai) x sniper lady

word count: 3k

warnings: angst, past memories, handless overhaul, hurt, comfort, gangs, yakuza, just girl taking care of her mans

notes: I'd like to thank the person responsible for proofreading this work bc I'm supposed to keep their identity a secret. 😎 Thank you once again! And of course, the manga and characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi. @meefal you were excited to see the final product so here you go, hope you like it. 🖤

✂-------------------------------------------------------

Overhaul couldn't remember how long he'd been there, he'd lost count weeks ago. The only thing he knew was that he was in "Tartarus", a prison located 5km off the coast of the Mainland. It may function like a conventional prison, but in reality, those who're deemed a severe threat toward the safety of the nation were locked up and monitored closely, regardless of whether their sentence has been decided on yet. The facility was divided into 6 levels, where the potential threat level of criminals was deemed "higher" the further underground you go. It's a prison where, once you enter, there's no chance of leaving.

He sat there in his cell, B10 being the lowest level in solitary confinement. It was too cold for his head to function and too dark for his eyes to see, with the small window above the prison doors being his only source of light. There was also an opening where prisoners received their meals, but considering that he lost his hands, the guards could easily enter without worrying too much for their well-being. They'd leave whatever they offered that day and give him a disgusted look before locking the doors after themselves. He couldn't see his reflection nor touch his face, he probably looked like crap by now. His skin was itching and he felt disoriented from all the germs occupying this space, it's been a while since he's gone out for some fresh air. 

He was practically Quirkless and yet they locked him out in the worst, most dreadful place the isolation block had to offer. He couldn't even feed himself properly, he couldn't do anything by himself whatsoever. But there was only one thing left to him; he spent days and days thinking about pops, Chrono, yakuza and everything he could have if it weren't for those stupid heroes-- no, if it weren't for his plan that so grandiosely failed. It made him feel miserable, desperate even, and with grief soon followed acceptance. It was all his fault, and he needed to live with this burden for the rest of his life. Because of him, pops is still handicapped to the bed somewhere, wherever the heroes might have taken him. 

He stood up and started beating the cell with his leg, curing his frustrations. He didn't know why he was doing it, it was irrational and he's hurting himself unnecessarily, but for some reason it made him feel lighter. At least he could transfer some of his inner pain to the outside world. Other criminals laughed at his patheticness, especially since they knew why the guards were allowed to enter his cell. They shouted that it was impossible to escape, but he wasn't trying to. He knew that it was useless a long time ago. 

Midnight came and all the prisoners mostly fell asleep. Overhaul, however, couldn't sleep a wink. Because of the dark room he spent most of his days in, he lost his sense of time so he was pacing around, deep in thought. He couldn't dream of anything nice anyways. 

"Can't fall asleep either?" a feminine voice could be heard from the other side. Wait. They allowed women here? What could she have possibly done to deserve such punishment? 

He leaned his back on the doors and slid down to the floor, trying to find the right words.

"Yes." he sighed, enthusiasm lacking in his voice "But it's not like I need you to talk about my problems." 

"Hm, whatever. Go beat your head against the bars. Fall unconscious, loser."

The man snorted, which might as well be his first time he ever did that. 

"Well, this certainly sounds effective. It's not like I have anything to lose anyways." 

"Hey." the tone of her voice was earnest, and it aroused further questions in his jumbled up head. 

"What?"

"We're going to get out of here." 

Is she being serious now? "Really? Because as far as I know, we're locked out here for good. We don't even know the severity of our sentences. They can do whatever they want with us."

"Not quite. You know that they're being supervised by 'The Hearts and Mind' party offshoots. They can’t do a thing to us as long as they have their heads to the pikes." 

This might be true, but he didn't believe in anything the government's been telling them lately. It's only a matter of time before they switch their plans and play by their own rules, because stabbing people in the back was the only thing they've ever been good at. 

"How did you end up here?" 

Oh the long-awaited question. She wondered when he'd ask. 

"It's not like I need you to talk about my problems."

He smiled, he liked this vicious side of hers. But he also realized that she could be nice as well because if that wasn't the case, she wouldn't spread promises of the escape. At least that's what he thought. 

"Sorry about that." 

"It's okay. We've all been here for a very long time, now weren't we? We lose our cool and act like total assholes."

"Direct and straight to the point I see." his deadpan voice could be heard from the other side of the bars. 

"'Been raised this way, for the better or worse." it didn't sound like she was bragging, yet it felt like she was just talking about herself, honest and confident, to cover up what she felt was wrong. The incoming topic which she'd rather avoid. 

The villainess didn't want to open up about her past, so she just answered his question. 

"I killed people beyond counting, following AFO's orders. He always wished to become the world's greatest demon lord and thus promised us enormous change in the hero society. So in order to achieve that, he needed his underlings. And that's how I ended up here."

"You were loyal till the end."

"You know what they say; there can be no progress nor achievement without certain sacrifice."

Wise beyond her years and just as sad. He wondered how her face looked like, how the world's been treating her. 

"I had my own sacrifices as well."

"Do you regret them?"

...

"I do." 

Now it was her turn to snort "Really? And I thought that people situated this low couldn't have regrets. You remember what they said about us. 'Beasts in human clothing', 'Simply dreadful beings'." 

He felt insulted, maybe the things she said were true but it's not like he was anything similar to these pigs he shared the same air with, unfortunately.

"I regret hurting the person important to me. The old man who once took me in when I was very young. He was the infamous boss of Shie Hassaikai." 

Something clicked in her, it's such a small world they're living in, "Yakuza? I know you guys. We used to trade with you back in the days."

"Todou Gang?" 

"You said it."

"But... you were a force to be reckoned with. One day you just collapsed and not a single trace could be found. According to certain sources, there was no way anyone could determine the exact cause of your downfall. So what happened?" 

"I killed them all." 

... 

"AFO told me to kill them to prove my loyalty to him and, of course, to make sure that there was no one I could turn to other than himself." 

For some questionable reasons, and he didn't dare to admit that it was empathy he felt towards a random stranger and a former gang member he shared some history with, Overhaul wanted to fill the silence that lingered between them. Perhaps, because he felt guilty for making her reveal more than what she initially intended. 

"I used pops' niece, a 6-year-old girl who had an extraordinary Quirk; it allowed her to rewind a person's body back to a certain state. That means she could put a body back to before it was injured or before the person even developed a Quirk. With that, I wanted to create a Quirk-erasing drug to get rid of the Quirk society altogether and to make sure that yakuza could rise once again. I cut her skin every day to take blood samples and to test her regenerative abilities. However, pops didn't approve of it, so I handicapped him to the bed and planned on waking him up the moment I realized my plan, to make him proud of the achievement. Unfortunately, it didn't play out as I wanted and I never reached him."

The silence followed and the woman wore a disheartening smile on her face. It's not the answer she expected, she didn't ask for another sad story from another messed up person she's met in her life. But the intentions were pure and for her, it was good enough. 

"We both fought for something only to lose it all, huh?" she laughed, but it was prominent in her tone that it was bittersweet. 

"At least you're brought here in one piece." 

"At least you can still revive your parent."

Were they comforting each other? Were they jealous of each other? Were they wallowing in self-pity? They couldn't tell. The only thing they certainly could was the embarrassment they felt from the moment they realized that some of the prisoners were eavesdropping and making fun of their vulnerabilities. See? That's what they hated the most about opening up about themselves; they were worried about their feelings being perceived as a joke. The only way to protect themselves was to rise up the walls and never let anyone get closer, except they didn't regret exchanging a word or two, as long as it was the two of them. 

The next day, 8:34PM Mainland-side entrance, the guardians of 'The Bronze Gate' announced a code red security lockdown. Panic and shouting could be heard from across the hall and the security alarm announced the potential danger. 

"Close any and all passageways on each floor. All workers are to enforce strict measures to maintain order."

"The surveillance system is down! It seems like we've been hit by some sort of EMP attack!"

Static waves were spreading around the metal frames and the prison doors of the isolation block unlocked. Overhaul could hear the commotion outside and the villains leaving their cells in a hurry, but as much as he tried, he couldn't push the heavy doors open.

"3 seconds until we're back online- wait... What the... With the system down we can't monitor the inside!"

"Nice, 3 seconds be damned." he beat the door with his legs, pushed the surface with his shoulders, leaned all of his weight on the godforsaken thing just so it could finally open. Nothing. It seems like he lost a couple of pounds during his stay here. He couldn't believe his eyes, this couldn't be happening to him. After all this time of patient waiting and hoping to meet pops once again, it turns out he'd be the only one still trapped and all because he didn't have any hands. He panicked, he really couldn't decide on what to do next. But then he remembered-

"Go beat your head against the bars, loser."

That's it! This might be his only chance to escape! He didn't have much time left though, he could hear the shooting nearby so he definitely needed to hurry.

"The system won't come back on!! The ones in solitary confinement are breaking out!! Inside!"

"Control unit's on site!! Execute lockdown in the isolation block!"

"Follow procedure! If even one of them steps a foot outside their cell-"

"Fire!! Open fire!!"

Muscular threw whatever he could find in this messed up place back at them, excitement prominent in his big smile "You ain't gonna kill me with those puny toys! So how about you show me the exit already?!" 

Other villains were joining him, still overwhelmed by the sudden freedom they've been given "Dammit... After all that time..."

"Meat..." Moonfish mumbled as he cut his opponents with his blade-like teeth. 

The villain lady joined them in the run, still carefully examining her surroundings in case they were tricked into something, "The system isn't responding to my Quirk. 'Guess Tartarus really is falling." 

As she was running down the corridor, she could hear beating noises coming from one of the doors. It sounded dull so the person must have been using their head. 

"Eh, don't tell me the idiot actually listened to my advice. He must be desperate." 

She came to the doors and turned the circular lock in a hurry. She really didn't want to stay in this place any longer, but she couldn't leave him behind either. It's not like she could use him for anything since he was basically handless and Quirkless so why was she doing it? She didn't have an answer. Maybe it was their talk from the other day, maybe because they were both gang members with a history, maybe because of her regrets and her wish to do something right for once. Or maybe because she was just this kind. Nah, this couldn't be it, she never did anything in her life that didn't require a certain purpose. She cast her heart aside a long time ago and did what was necessary for the accomplishment of the mission. It would be weird if she suddenly started using her heart again, now wouldn't it? She was AFO's personal assassin, there was simply no way. 

He came out of the room with eyes wide in puzzlement. He was finally free and ready to find pops so he could possibly revive him and try to fix things as much as he could.

They looked at each other for the first time. They never said it aloud, godforbid, but they liked the other's eyes. And perhaps the eyes were a window to a person's soul, their broken souls, tormented by the life's temptations. They were still so young, probably in their twenties, and yet they looked older at the same time. Maybe because of the seriousness in their faces, their stronger stance, the way they defied their fate. They were destined to fall apart, no one would argue with it, but circumstances drove them to take action and rise from the bottomless chasm. And now they had each other. 

"We need to get out of here," she stated and pulled him by the sleeve that hung loosely from his shoulder. They escaped Tartarus and raided a small shop near the coast to change clothes and to mingle into the public unnoticed. She quickly picked out a dress and threw herself at work while Overhaul was still standing by the shop display, looking out for the potential intruders.

He couldn't erase the thought of this being some sort of a really weird first date; the girl coming out of the stall and the guy examining her looks. He shook his head, he never had this kind of thoughts in his entire life. He needed to pull himself together. 

The bob-hair came out and adjusted the ammo on her utility belt. He looked at her from the corner and she was stunning; intimidating with a tad bit of femininity in design. He stood there and watched how good it fit her curvy form. The thoughts wandering in his head sounded so wrong, terribly wrong. He needed to bring himself to stop. 

"Oh right, I almost forgot." she took a shirt off the shelf and came to him, showing him the garment in her hands "You need a little help, right?" 

"Sure.'' his voice was small and he stood still while she undid his buttons. Maybe from the outside he looked completely calm, but from the inside he was a complete mess. He looked at her face and wondered if she knew, the kind of effect she's having on him. She raised her head and he looked to the side, there's no way he could look her in the eyes at this point. He hoped she didn't notice. 

"You like this one, don't you?" she asked, filling the awkward silence. 

"Looks don't matter, the most important thing is to change and avoid getting caught." She looked annoyed. Great. He wanted to shove his head though the wall. Wait… Why was he thinking that? 

"I choose the clothes I like. It makes me feel better in my skin."

"You look good in it."

She looked at him surprised and he quickly corrected himself "the dress looks good."

"Sure." she trailed off and put the new shirt over his shoulders. She could feel his muscles tensing. This was probably because of the cool air, she assured herself. 

"Why did you break me out of Tartarus? It's not like I could be of any use to you." 

She buttoned up his shirt and fixed the wrinkled parts on the garment, hand accidentally brushing over the left side of his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

Well... that was a surprise.

"I thought that maybe you could be of some use to the demon lord. Not Quirk-wise, but you may offer a valuable set of information. Something that the demon lord would appreciate greatly." she could feel it slowing down and her heart dropped just as much.

"But also because I... liked you."

He looked at her incredulously and she smiled. She pinched him to bring him out of the trance and he complained. "Don't be awkward, say something."

"I like you too... I, this is my first time I ever said this to anyone. It's weird."

She slapped him gently on the shoulder and he reached to take it but, yea, no hands.

"What the hell?"

"You're the one who's weird. But I guess that I like you this way." she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek "Ew, you should definitely shave though. No doubt about it."

The former yakuza boss swore; he'll never understand women. But for some reason he couldn't deny that he was particularly drawn to this one. He wondered if pops would approve of her.

[what-the--curtains]

There are No Wolves in The Desert

(Oberyn Martell x f!reader)

Part 3 - An (in)Decent Proposal

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Summary: Oberyn makes you an offer you cant refuse.

Authors notes: Whoop here part 3 sorry this is taking SO long but I have no MOTIVATION (sang like jean ralphio)😭 Thank you for reading and sharing and commenting I love y all so much💕💕💕💕

TW: Mentions of incest (walder frey), mentions of alcohol, fighting

Word count: 4.9k

Tagged: @evyiione @xsadderdazeforeverx @agingerindenial @ayamenimthiriel

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The large wooden doors of your room slowly creak open rousing you from your restful slumber. You open one eye allowing yourself to adjust to the sun's bright rays that were coating your room's walls, brightening their pastel hues. You cautiously shift up, gaze locked on the door fingers clutched around your knife. Your fist relaxes as two figures enter the room, the first belonging to Shana who you recognized from last night and the other, to a younger girl. Shana walks towards the long table placing down the assorted fruits, breads and wine while the younger girl sits on your bed, slowly unscrewing a teal coloured jar’s lid. Your eyes follow her as she leans forward.

“Are you a Targareyn?” she asks, hand slowly hovering towards your face, intent on applying a cream to the area that had been forcibly rammed into a wall last night.

“No,” you respond, shifting back and out of her reach.

“You look like one,” she offers scooting closer to you determined to sooth your wound.

“Is that a compliment?” you ask, causing her to duck her head down in embarrassment, noticing her reaction, and feeling somewhat guilty you continue “My father was though, so I suppose in a way you are correct. You have a sharp eye, what is your name?” you query hoping to relieve any embarrassment.

“Kaina” she responds, eyes still on the bed spread.

“How old are you, Kaina?” you question, watching as an easiness washes over her as you allow her to apply the salve to your broken skin.

“Six and ten” she says, meticulously dabbing the mixture onto your face.

“Has the prince..ever.. propositioned you, ” you ask cautiously, curious as to the character of the man whose home you had been invited into.

“No, he has no eyes for children,” she says, redonning the jars lid.

“Which is more than you can say for the men of Westeros,” Shana quips as she appears at your side offering you a bowl of fruit which you take with a thank you. You pluck a raspberry from the bowl and pop it into your mouth, the freshness and sweetness delighting your tastebuds.

“That is very true, I knew of one man who married his own daughters,” you say, causing the two women to look at you horrified.

“When you age are you allowed to stay in the palace?” you query, ignoring their disdain for the practices carried out by the Frey family.

“Yes, we are allowed to stay or leave in order to continue our training if we wish,” Shana states

“Training?” you press.

“We are allowed to study here, I took up healing. Others like Shana learn to cook, others care for animals, or they train to fight, whatever they choose and they are allowed to come and go as they please,” Kaina states.

“You’re treated well here then? ”

“Yes, very much so” they both respond almost in unison.

“And are you paid well?”

“Yes, the princes both believe any service provided demands a payment. May I ask why you ask so many questions my lady?” Kaina ponders, her good nature causing you to smile.

“I am no lady, but I do take great value in the way a man treats his staff, especially those who hold less power than he. If I am to make a deal I wish to know whom I am making it with. I have no need to help abusers, ” you state as she recaps the salve that was now absorbing into your skin.

“A wise woman,” Shana states. “The prince is a good man, as is our king.”

“Neither of them would marry their own children,” the younger girl says standing again, horrified.

“Well that is good to hear,” you say with a soft chuckle,

“Do you need us to dress you my lady?” Shana offers, despite already knowing the answer.

“No I am quite alright thank you,” they curtsey and leave you to dress for the day. You pull on the lightweight leather armour before redonning your cloak, opting to leave the hood down, no point in hiding who you were now, at least while you were within the palace walls.

You stroll leisurely down the palace steps, admiring the limestone architecture and the gold detailing glimmering under the mid-morning sun. You watch the heat ripple as it rises off the metallic features. The day's warmth bears down on your face, even in the winter the dornish heat was nearly unbearable and infinitely warmer than Winterfell. Your head turns towards the sound of children laughing and you watch as two small blurs disappear round a corner, in chase of the butterflies flying throughout the palace. You continue through the garden hand ghosting along the Ivy leaves that snaked through the metallic fencing containing the gardens perimeter. You could easily see yourself getting lost amongst the vines, the winding paths leading off in multiple directions towards unknown destinations. You would return here another time, to truly admire the flora created by the old gods and the new. You stay true to your path for the time being, hoping to locate Oberyn so he could make light of his supposed proposition. You follow the faint metallic clammer echoing in the distance, the sound growing louder as you approach a large wooden arena. The training grounds were large, offering a place to train and exhibit the ornate and hypnotic fighting.

Their style was known across the seven kingdoms for being elegant and deadly, a combination you found paired well with at least one dornish individual you knew.

The arena's overhang offers you some shade, a luxury not afforded to those in the arena, you come to rest your forearms down on the palisade allowing your wrists to drape over the bannister as your shoulders relax. Oberyn's armour glimmers in the sun illuminating the sweat beaded over his tanned skin, a few loose strands of hair plastered to his forehead. You watch as he skillfully knocks his opponent to the ground before turning to you. You watch his charismatic features light up as he strides towards you allowing his opponent to regain his footing.

“Your beauty is greater than the messengers lead me to believe,” he states loudly, causing you to look down and shake your head, unsure what he hoped to achieve by shamelessly flirting with you.

“So you were spying on me,” you respond, ignoring his charms, much to his dismay. Your constant dismissal of his advances leaving him wondering if he had finally found someone immune to his charisma.

“We spy on anyone we think will be an ally or enemy to us, “ he says glancing back, not dropping his guard despite his opponents retreat to the arena's far side.

“Must be a long list,” you offer as he places his spear against the panelling, splashing his face with water before bending down to take a drink from one of the taps found throughout the city.

“Prior to his death, we wanted Robb Stark on our side, and you, or Lady Stark wherever she may be, we were told she was a ferocious warrior, ” he states, raising his eyebrows mischievously.

“Don't believe everything you hear. Though I suppose she owes you her life, perhaps a lesson in calligraphy would suffice, your handwriting is quite distinctive,” you smirk watching his head turn in faux shock before returning to his opponent.

“My time was better spent elsewhere,” he shouts back, blocking yet another shot brought forward by the palace guard. Turning he gracefully sweeps the legs out from beneath the man the entire ordeal lasting no longer than a few minutes.

“Pleasures of the flesh have far greater value to me than a pretty note,” he states clearly, turning to gauge your reaction. Despite you declining his advances the subject of sex appeared to have little to no effect on you. There was no giggle or blush that often came in the women of westeros who are told sex is a sacred act for man and wife.

“Too much time doing as you please and not nearly enough time spent doing what you should,” you state, a line your mother had frequently said when you trapsed throughout the forest instead of doing your housework. He looks at you, confusion and glee dancing on his face at your manner, or lack thereof, around him. Being a prince he wasn't used to such a direct tone. Others typically behaved themselves around him, either out of fear or admiration. Though neither were nearly as tantalizing as those who readily disregarded his status with such cutting wit.

“On your left,” you remark, allowing him to catch the oncoming hit just in time. He nods for the man to leave the arena leaving you alone with Oberyn.

“Shall we?” he calls out, and you cock your head to the side.

“You said you wished to practice, you care to try your luck,” he asks, swinging around grinning as he gestures to the large space.

“Luck won't have anything to do with me beating you,” you quip hopping over the panelling and into the arena.

“You need four weapons to defeat me?” he taunts from afar. You shoot him a look as you stab your knife into the ground before removing the quiver and bow placing them against the wall. You turn on the tap and splash your face with the water, flicking the remainder off your hands as you turn and walk into the sun towards your opponent.

“Just two which by my count is one less than you,” you offer.

“I only have one,” he explains

“The spear is long, has two ends, two weapons. Besides you have a shield. Shield counts as a weapon,” you state.

“And you don’t choose to fight without one,” he says, dropping the shield so you have no excuses for his impending victory.

“Don’t need a shield if the enemy is dead before they can reach you,” you explain.

“Cocky”, he says twirling the spear hitting the blunt end into the ground before pointing it forward and bending at the knees in preparation.

“You say as if you are not yourself,” you retort, arms reaching back and removing the swords twirling them before entering your own stance. He’ll make the first move, of that you're sure. He does as you expect, allowing you to stop the hit with your swords crossing them into an ‘x’ and using their combined force to push his spear up and to the side as you uncross them. His underestimation of your strength leaves him off balance as you spin around aiming for his knees. He manages to regain his footing and jumps easily over your sword showing off the flashy fighting style you’d expected of a dornish prince.

“Perhaps not as poor a fighter as you thought,” you state, ducking as he swings his spear around to hit you. Without breaking motion he spins the weapon above his head bringin it down almost hitting you had you not dropped to the ground. Rolling behind him you twirl your swords around and jab the hilts into the back on his knee. He falls to his knees and before he can formulate his next move you stand and kick his weapon out from his hand. He teeters forward and you grab him by the hair tugging it back exposing his throat. You bring your blade to his neck watching his Adam's apple bod as he swallows, eyes looking up to you with what one could only describe as admiration.

“I believe that's a match,” you say, removing the blade and pushing his head forward. He remains kneeling, half in shock, half aroused.

“One and done?” You chide watching as he remains on his knees. It was a sight you could get used to.

“Now there's something I've never been called before,” he chuckles, composing himself and standing back up “You're better than I thought,” he remarks bending to retrieve his spear.

“Is that what the men and women of Dorne say to you?” you taunt, watching as his eyes light up, a smile etched on his face as he searches for a response. “ I was a soldier before I was an assassin,” you explain, closing the silence for him.

“Women are allowed to fight in the north? Perhaps you all are more evolved than I had thought,” he states.

“I never said I was allowed to be there,” you admit, causing him to chuckle. “A murderer, a mercenary, and a liar. What other charming traits do you possess,” he queries winking at you.

“And here I thought the Red Viper was said to have a way with words,” you quip back much to his delight.

“One to one, drop your other sword,” he says, turning back towards you.

“That’s hardly fair,” you retort, more petulant than you’d have liked.

“I thought you would know by now, life isn’t fair,” He remarks and you grit your teeth but do as he requests jabbing your other sword into the ground.

“I should ask you to chop your spear in half,”

“Stop putting it off” he says, shining the spear’s point on his sleeve. It's different now he seems to have sussed out your style and in mere seconds. He lunges forward and you mirror him but he pulls back quickly, dancing out of reach from your sword which swings aimlessly in the air, throwing you off balance. You find your footing just as he sweeps your feet from beneath you knocking you on your back. He swings down but you block it with your forearm, managing to use your free hand to swipe at his ankle. Noticing your movements he jumps back, releasing the pressure of his weight from your arm allowing you to get back up.

“You’re bleeding,” he states, weapon falling to his side, upset at having marked your skin with his blade when he’d much rather have done so with his mouth.

“Stop trying to distract me,” you hiss, upset at being bested so easily. Rushing forward your weapons meet in the air. Metal on wood sounding out as you hack into the spear hoping to break it. As you split the spear in half he allows your force to carry you forward and he maneuvers behind you. A harsh tap on your wrist causes your hand to retract dropping your sword which clammers unhappily to the ground. The spear's blunt end wraps around your waist pulling you into him, his strength more apparent than ever. He brings the bladed end up bracing his arm against your chest and pointing it towards your heart, your body now pressed tightly into his.

“Match,” he whispers softly into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He lets you go after a minute when he feels your body relax into his, letting you walk off in defeat. He turns back to pick up the broken end of his weapon, and as he does a dagger flies by his head sticking in the wall mere inches from him.

“Chest isn’t a definite kill. The throat is,” you say, your time spent healing leaving you attune to your enemies anatomy.

“I'll add cheating to your growing list of qualities, ” he tuts, throwing the dagger back sticking it in the wall near you. “I could have you hung for a stunt like that,” he states, sauntering over to you.

“Did you have a proposition for me? Or did you only wish for me to come back here so you could be smug?” you query and he laughs watching as you remove the wrist guard from your bloodied arm assessing the gash you’d procured during your fight. He comes over to you placing his hand under your upturned arm caressing it as he looks down at the cut with disdain.

“Come, you should go to the palace healers,” he says softly, offering you insight into why so many found themselves in his chambers.

“No need,” you say, removing the skin to skin contact you so desperately longed for. Grabbing a handful of leaves from a nearby bush you place them in your mouth, chewing them into a paste and rubbing it into the cut, “my mother was a healer. That tree, its leaves cauterize the wound, less pain than fire, less scarring as well,” you state upon seeing his confusion. “Your proposition, my prince?” you ask his eyes going from your arm to your eyes.

“More of a request I suppose. My niece Arianne has gone missing since our last meeting, she was running away somewhere, towards something but someone else got to her first. We have our suspicions as to who has stolen her, but we need evidence prior to the accusation. I had my birds fly around and ask whom to contact, it seemed that you were the one for the job,” he explains.

“Is that so. How do I know I can trust you?” you ask, he’d found you and he’d been good thus far, but anytime you were shown kindness you were hesitant. In your experience it nearly always came with a price.

“I'm sure you're aware, but they have murdered my sister, and my greatest love I will not allow them to take anyone else I care for,” he says, fire in his eyes. It was the most serious you’d seen him. His usual jovity lost in a stoic expression, reminding you of another man you once knew.

“I believe your intentions to be true, but that is not cause for trust,” you explain, watching as nods his head slowly in agreement.

“You cannot trust, because you are unable. I understand why, so I fear nothing I say will ease you, but I swear, no harm will come to you here.”

“Not until you have what you want, at least” you mumble.

“And after,” he reassures, his tone nearly leading you to believe him.

“And apart from payment what's in it for me? If I am to uncover a truth that could start a war. I've spent too long hiding away to risk being found,”

“You have no risk, they think you’re dead, proclaimed it themselves, even if you showed up, they'd never be able to say otherwise. Apart from that, a chance at family,”

“Family,” you scoff, the concept long forgotten. “My family is dead” you say, a lie you told yourself to keep you away from Winterfell, though it was a lie likely to be true, knowing the Lannisters obsession with tying up loose ends.

“The Starks are rising again, Sansa is back in Winterfell, Arya is assumed alive and Jon is leading at the wall,” Oberyn lists off the rumours that had passed by his ears, but they were only whispers, nothing solid enough for you to cling too.

“Even if what you say is true I am nothing to them,” you say, tone remaining level despite the knot forming in your stomach.

“You are there sister,”

“I am not, not anymore, not after I failed them,” you confess.

“How so?”

“You asked me why I was here, I was here to find and plead my case to Danearys Targaryn. At Robbs behest, to help destroy the Lannisters,” you finally admit, a heavy sigh exhaled as you do.

“And I take it you never did,” he watches as a sense of shame, or perhaps it was guilt, wash over you, a crack in your armour.

“You help me find Arianne, you help me bring her home and I will help you reach the mother of dragons,” he states earnestly.

“You know where she is?” you ask head quickly, turning to him.

“Not yet, but I found you, and you were dead, someone alive,” you watch as he pulls a face “should be no problem.”

“And why would you help me,” you query, still unsure of his true motivation for recruiting you.

“An eye for an eye, or perhaps it's purely selfish. An assassin can only go so far. A dragon, now that can take down a lineage,” he says looking down at you.

“I cannot promise her safety, I will not mince words, for all we know Arianne may be dead,” you explain.

“I understand this. Think it over, your welcome to stay here as long as you please, it has been a while since I have faced new opponents, and ones with different training, sloppy as it may be,” he quips, hoping to bring a smile to your face.

“I could say the same of you,” you retort quickly.

“I've never been described as sloppy,” Oberyn states, only partially offended at the insinuation.

“Perhaps you surround yourself with people aiming to please you for too long,” you say, accidentally bumping your shoulder into him, the sudden contact causing a heat to rise in your stomach.

‘Perhaps,” he laughs, noting your flustered reaction, when a man approaches handing him a note which he reads intently. You take the moment to admire his strong features as they concentrate on the note. His brow was furrowed, pouted lips mouthing along to the scripture of the letter before dropping it down to his sides. “As much as it devastated me to do so, I must take my leave from your company, my Lady,” he bows, excusing himself to consult his brother before you can correct him. You continue to stroll through the garden watching a mass of colours bloom around you. You sit on a stone bench wondering how you’d ended up here, wondering if your family was in fact dead, and if any of the Starks truly remained alive.

“You’re the white wolf aren’t you?” you hear a voice call out behind you causing you to laugh.

“What?” the voice demands

“It seems I have many as many names as there are kings these days,” you state.

“Any of them true?” the voice asks as you turn to see the eldest sand snake, Tyene. She was Oberyn and Ellaria's daughter, their first born. She reminded you of Arya, the hardness on her face caused by the brave facade forced onto her.

“I was sorry to hear of your mothers passing, ” you say, turning to face Tyene ignoring her previous question.

“Were you?” she states accusingly.

“I was, she produced and trained all of you after all. You were the only people in Dorne who actually scared me,” you admit.

“If it's any condolence the Shadow Tracker had reached our ears, and my mother was quite impressed with you as well,” she says, knife twirling between her fingers “How did you find him, my father?”

“Unfortunately your father found me. He needs my help, to find your cousin,” you explain hoping to ease her weariness about your place in the palace.

“Who better to take down a lion than someone who lost everything because of them,” she states, trying to see where your allegiances lie. Tyene was always wary when an unknown woman arrived. Concerned they are seeking to use her father to gain power. “Added bonus you look as you do I suppose,” she continues, knife dancing between her digits.

“I wonder why beauty is always what it comes back to? I would be here no matter my face,” you state.

“While I believe you would have been hired, my father has an eye for pretty things. You would have been paid but you wouldn't have been welcomed back to the palace,” she scoffs.

“Are you sure of that?” you question, unsure if she was being truthful or spiteful.

“Yes,” she replies matter of factly

“Well, I'll take that into consideration. Your cousin, Arianne, where was she going the day she disappeared?” you question.

“I don't know,” she mumbles, knife stalling for a moment.

“I don't believe that.”

“We searched her room, we found nothing, nothing but this,” she says, retrieving a small book and handing it to you.

“You give it to me freely?” she hesitates letting it go but her grip eases allowing you to take it.

“If what they say of you is true, perhaps you are the only one who can find her. She can't be left for long. She can't defend herself. All she knows is stitching and art and reading,” Tyene spits, eyes glistening slightly.

“All of which are valiant professions and skills, ones I wish I possessed. They foster patience, skill and planning. They forge a strategic mind, which comes in handy especially when taken by the enemy, ” you explain, your words easing Tyene, though the worry in her eyes remains.

“So she may still be alive,” she questions hesitantly.

“I do not think they killed her at least not yet,” you sigh, tapping the book against your hand “Thank you for trusting me with this,”

“Thank me by finding her,” Tyene says standing up and continuing on her way, leaving you to read Ariannes journal pages.

That night you can't sleep, you stroll through the garden admiring the flora, the colours are ones you'd never thought possible before.

“Running off,” a familiar voice asks and you turn to face the prince who was sitting on a stone bench a book placed precariously in his hands.

“Would you stop me if I was?” you query, returning on your path.

“No, though your dress indicates something else is the reason for your late night adventure,” he says standing up and walking slowly towards you.

“Insomnia, the plague of the guilty,” you state, taking a tiger lily in your hand admiring its markings “even in the summer the north fails to grow such things.”

“Even the plants know, the cold is no place to live,” Oberyn offers, book grasped tightly behind his back.

“Have you been?” you ask, removing your hand from the lily, eyes trailing up to the moon flowers that were glowing under the starlight.

“No,” he huffs, as if the question is preposterous.

“Then how would you know?” you respond smugly, eyes glancing up at him admiring his features as they relax into defeat before glancing down to you brow still furrowed, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “The trees are unlike anything you have ever seen, taller than buildings, older than the race of men. They’ll be here long after we crumble. Their red leaves against the white bark, the time of the old gods still etched into existence. Have you ever seen the snow my prince?” you query turning to face him.

“No, though i've heard the mountain peaks here can get it this time of year, but i've never been possessed to seek out the cold,” he admits, the colour of your eyes more prominent under the full moon, your poetic retelling almost enticing, or perhaps it was just the lips they fell from drawing him in.

“I miss it sometimes,” you confess, offering him a rare glimpse of softness he’d yet to see, “There's no feeling quite like that of being under furs with the one you love, the warmth of a fire as the cold breeze blows over you,” you continue, shaking your head at your ridiculous notions of tranquility.

“It is still warmth you crave then,” he says and you laugh.

“I suppose you're right,” you admit and he chuckles, enjoying your laugh, more melodic than he would have expected. Without your armour he could see the scars scattered across your body, not prominent but there. Evidence of a harder life than he’d expected from a person married to a would-be king.

“Are you not used to such ghastly sights my prince?” you query, his eyes widening at being caught admiring your form.

“I have seen scars before, and yours are hardly what one would qualify as ghastly ,especially considering the body they find themselves etched into existence on. I am merely curious as to their origin, each body tells a story after all,” he says following closely behind you.

“And what is my story” you ask, spinning around to face him.

“That your careless, ” he begins, watching as your eyes caution him “but only for those you are willing to risk your life for”

“Interesting,” you say, running your tongue along the cusps of your teeth, turning and walking on ahead, his eyes following you, feet doing the same.

“Am I right” he asked, more curious than ever. You shrug your shoulder annoying him slightly, not accustomed to your lack of openness.

“And your scars?” you question stopping to smell a lilac bush, he watches as the fabric dips low enough to reveal your chest.

“I have none, I am not careless,” he says, eyes on your newly exposed flesh, you snap your eyes to him “do not mistake my tone, you are a strong adversary, but you take unnecessary risks.” He states.

“Yet here I am,” you say standing up crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yet here you are,” he says, taking continuous steps to you until the space between you both is closed. He’s staring down at you, both hearts beating fast. You raise your gaze to meet his, momentarily lost in his eyes, forgetting your train of thought for a moment.

“I...I will help find your niece,” you sputter out, quickly turning your back to him.

“I am pleased to hear that,” he says letting out a quick sigh at having missed an opportunity to envelop you in his arms and bring you back to his chambers.

“Goodnight prince Oberyn,” you say, not looking back as you begin the path back to your room, your head filled with his image despite your persistent attempts to expel him from your mind.

“Goodnight Lady Stark, or whoever you wish me to believe you to be,” he calls back, watching as you disappear from view.

[milkytheholy1]

Apocalyptic Love: Chapter 13: New plan

Tmnt masterlist. Ultimate masterlist. AL series links

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"I can't believe you want to work with the Dragons!" Raph screamed, hands waving in the air as both brothers paced back and forth around the rooftop. Leo and Raph had been arguing since the moment the Purple Dragons were mentioned, both storming off to an abandoned tower block to rant their frustrations.

"It's not that I want to actively work with the Dragons, Raph. But we have no choice, I'd rather work with the Dragons for a few days than have New York stay like this hell-hole!" Leo spat back, for once thinking logically.

It was hard to say which brother was right, both having persuasive arguments. On one hand, the Purple Dragons were known as crooks and low life scum, and that was before the Foot took over. But on the other hand, if they knew where the rebel base was that could give you an advantage over the Foot.

"Even after everythin' they've done, ya still willin' to see the good in 'em? God, how brain dead are you, Leo!" Raph chided, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Leo growled in response, quickly growing sick of this conversation. Turning his back, Leo folded his arms and let the nightly breeze dance across his face, "You want to do this your own way, Raph? Fine, but don't come complaining to me when everything crumbles around you."

"It won't crumble cause I won't be on my own, isn't that right guys?" Raph then turned to you, Mikey and Donnie, all of which had just been stood watching the commotion happen. From what Donnie had told you, this sort of stuff happened all the time when they were younger, always fighting over petty things like playtime or pizza slices. It didn't sit well with you, but then again, you never had siblings, born and raised as an only child; an honour for some.

But when Raph called upon you three again, veins popping out of his forehead, you paid attention. "Who agrees with me, eh? The Purple Dragons are nothin' but a bunch of scum that stain these streets, they ain't ever gonna help us." Raph waited for one of you to move, but at the same time, you couldn't feel anything below your nose.

In silence, Donatello stepped forward and moved to stand by Raph's side. Leo clearly questioned his decision, the way his jaw dropped was a give away, "Donnie?" he muttered in disbelief.

"I'm sorry, Leo, but Raph's got a point; which is something I thought I'd never say. We can't trust the Purple Dragons, they're criminals, they would never help us."

"Mikey, what about you?" Leo then moved on, dismissing anything more that the purple-banded terrapin would say, he now knew where his loyalties lied. The youngest jumped over to their leader's side, agreeing with everything Leo had said, people can change was his mantra.

"Sorry, dudes, but I gotta agree with Leo. Everyone can change, yo!" he cheered, not quite realising the impulsiveness of his decision. Then everyone's eyes turned to you, staring intently, awaiting your choice. You had never felt more pressure in your life, even in school. You flicked your gaze between the two team leaders, each staring at you with determination and mock confidence, arms folded and chests bared.

Sulking your head down, you solemnly walked over to Raph's side, a small audible gasp muttered from Leo's breath. You couldn't bear to look at him, knowing he was so confident you would choose him over his hotheaded brother, but yet, here you stand by said brother's side. It's not like Leo cared, he simply brushed it off with a hard glare and an etched frown, it's not like this meant anything, just a petty squabble.

But why did it hurt so much, to see you taking Raph's side instead of his own? It doesn't matter, you weren't his, not to claim.

"I-I'm sorry, Leo. But, Raph, he's right in some ways. The Dragons won't change unless you make them, but then...would you still be the good guys?" you still hadn't looked up at him, feeling a weight in your stomach, the bile bubbling with uneasiness.

"Well, now that's settled, I say we should get going, team. We can't start fixin' blue boy's mistake here, if we're too busy chattin'." Raph praised a wide smile on his face, pearly whites aimed at his brother. Turning with a hand on Donnie's right shoulder, Raph dragged him along the edge of the rooftop, jumping down on the fire escapes until he reached the concrete floor, "C'mon squishy! Let's get a move on!" his voice echoed up.

You rolled your eyes, the motion causing your head to shake, looking up at Leo you finally saw the distraught in his sights. They weren't on you but the spot where his other two brother's had been, "I'll look after them," you promised him. Mikey had long since left, only leaving the two of you alone together, like the many times before. Leo nodded in understanding, thankful that you would risk yourself for them if needed, yet he still couldn't get the sick sinking feeling to leave him.

"Be safe, I'm counting on you coming back." he voiced, tone wavery but firm. You nodded your head at him, only like he did moments ago, "Always, captain." you winked, following your team. Leo felt his cheeks bloom, he knew he'd regret telling you about his Space Heroes fantasy late that night.

--

"Alright, guys, time to come up with a plan. So, what we got?" Raph asked, oozing confidence and cockiness. You and Donnie glared at him, "Nothing! We have nothing!" Donnie exclaimed, exasperated, but he said what you were both thinking.

Raph's cocky smile soon turned into a frown, shoulders slumping forward, shell scrapping the wall behind him. You had settled under a bridge, the river that flowed under it dried by the Foot a year or so ago, their reasoning was to stop a flow of supply ships.

"C'mon, D, you're the smart one here! You gotta know somethin'. And you, ya seem pretty smart too, so you two geniuses come up with a plan!" you now understood why Leo was the leader, not that Raph couldn't handle it but his execution was a little...harsh.

"Well, let's see..." Donnie drifted off, using a metal finger to draw into the dirt, dust rising as his finger drew line after line. However, under his constant ramblings, he'd smash a hand against his failed plan and start again. This went on for over ten minutes, all you and Raph did was watch as Donnie slowly lost his mind.

"I can't crack it!" he then shouted, hands clutching his head. You ran over to him, soothing hands rubbing up and down his arms, you weren't too sure why you were rubbing the metal one but you didn't stop when the thought crossed your mind. Donatello seemed to calm down, thanking you with panted breaths, standing to his full height he strode to Raph.

"I can't think of anything that would be remotely successful, the closest we got was with the original plan."

"So what're ya suggesting, Don?"

"I'm suggesting we just update, change, improve, whatever you want to call it, our old plan. Everything would remain the same, the only variable we would be changing would be the addition of the Purple Dragons. Instead, I propose we swap the Dragons for another group."

"Yeah, well, there's one problem with that, Donnie." you huffed, arms crossed over your chest with a pout. You watched as the boys got to thinking, a saddening look emerging on their faces at the realisation, "We don't have anyone else," Donnie whispered, vocalising your collective disappointment.

"Wait a minute," Raph flicked his head up, fingers snapping when he got an idea, "C'mon, follow me!" he darted off, following the tunnel that led to the sewers. He didn't give you much warning as he sprinted away, leaving you and Donnie to look at him with surprise, you soon lost his form and in that moment decided to follow him with haste.

The smell of the sewers was vile, luckily you didn't stay there as Raph had led you to an open pipe. The light from outside shone through, blinding you on entry, a tough hand grabbed ahold of your outstretched arm and pulled you into a hard chest. Looking up, you caught the vibrant green of Raph's eyes, he let you go and continued on his trail.

You were in a dump, and not just any dump, but New York's dump. The smell of rotting trash and decaying bodies filled the air, your nose having trouble filtering out which smell came from where. Piles of garbage ranged from small piles to skyscraper towers, ready to fall with the slightest push.

"Ugh, this place is-"

"Amazing! Oh, would you look at all that scrap metal! A-and this carbon monoxide alarm!" Donnie beamed, cutting off your insult. He moved around the junk piles, pulling out and grabbing ahold of random bits of trash. He gasped aloud, all the oxygen vastly inhaled into his lungs, "Is that an H180 Camshaft!"

"I don't know, Donnie, is it?" Raph laughed out, mocking his younger brother. Donnie repeatedly nodded his head the moment he pulled the metal free, "It is! Oh my god, this place is like a tech boy's heaven." he sighed. you stifled your laugh, not wanting to eagerly mock him like Raph did, but try to share some enthusiasm.

"More like nerd central, c'mon, this way!" Raph grumbled, but a small smirk was pressed on his lips from what you could see. Over the last few days of knowing the brothers, each had started to grow on you, including Raph. You had obviously befriended Mikey, that would be a given when the guy saved you from a Footbot massacre. You had found solace in Donnie, intrigued by his genius thinking and witty comments. Raph was a little harder, barely spending time with the guy would do that to you, but he was alright in your books.

Then finally there was Leo, the leader and oldest. He was different, you had formed a bond, sure, but you still felt distant from him. Earlier when this whole fight went down, he had a longing in his eyes, but his cold tone said otherwise. You needed to know more about him, what exactly were you getting into.

"Welcome to my humble aboded." Raph's voice rung out, his thick accent making the statement less suave. Raph held his arms in a bow, allowing you both first entry into his simple home, said home being piled under a trash heap. It wasn't that big when you looked around, a rotten old mattress sat in one corner, while some empty beer cans and a walkie talkie sat perched on a table in the other. There were plenty of magazines covering the floor, some you didn't want to remotely look at, you noted that there were a lot of motorbike ones though; perhaps an interest or hobby? you mused.

"This is where you were staying, ugh, it's even worse than your room back in the lair." Donnie groaned, only now picking up on the horrendous smell. Raph shrugged his shoulders, jumping back to land on the mattress, the room suddenly covered in dust. You coughed out what dust you inhaled, waving a hand around your face until you could see again, "So why are we here, oh wise leader?" you ridiculed.

"I got somethin' that might give us a lead." he rolled from his bed straight onto the floor, looking under the table, then moving further until his legs were only visible. "Where are ya you crappy little-" he mumbled to himself, voice strained as he searched around.

"Aha!" he laughed, banging his head on the table, a small curse falling from his lips. Pulling away with caution, Raph stood back on his own two legs and turned to face you and Donnie with a tiny book, "What is that, your diary?" you chuckled, a wicked smirk on your face.

The book was tattered, probably from the years of use it had seen, the casing was leather, scratched in some places. It had looked like it was originally a deep maroon, but with some exposure to the sun, the corners had faded to a light pink. As Raph thumbed through the pages, you noted that they too were tattered and ripped, a coffee brown colour instead of what you assumed was white.

"How is some diary going to help us?" Donnie huffed, just as transfixed as you were when watching Raph.

"It-it's not a diary," he grunted, not fully paying attention to you both, "This is gonna tell us where to find help," there weren't many pages left in the book, yet it still took Raph time to go through, checking each page methodically.

"Great so this tiny diary is gonna help us win the Foot war, we're doomed." you groaned, leaning your back against the walls then quickly realising it was all garbage. You sprung away, patting your back of any rubbish that suck to the fabric of your clothes, ugh, you hated the dump.

"This diary- I mean, book- isn't goin' to win us the war, never said that. But, it will get us anotha player in this team."

"What are you going on about, I thought we had no one left, you even said it yourself!" Donnie groaned, hands waving in the air to dramatise his point. Raph ignored his brother, nearly dropping the book when he slowly came to the last few pages. But out from a random page dropped a small slip of paper, it fluttered in the air, slowly falling to its descent on the ground.

Raph had dropped the book and used two hands in an attempt to catch the paper, it had looked like a cat trying to catch a fly or leaf; cute. When he did eventually catch it, a huge smile was on his face.

"Someone looks pretty smug with themselves," you chided, watching as his glee took over his whole body. It was weird seeing Raph like this, the guy kept up a hard image but to see him spinning in circles on one foot like a princess was very...amusing to you.

You got a look at the paper, all three of you crowding around it in Raph's hands. Written in crood English was an address, you didn't recognise it as being a part of the city, but it was an address nevertheless. No name was attached, no number, nothing; what you did find bizarre was the sketch of a hockey mask beside it.

You wondered what it could all mean.

[chubbybuckydumpling]

Christmas Biscuits

words: 2287

warnings: swear words, a tiny bit of angst, mentions of death (this sounds kinda bad, but it’s actually really fluffy)

A/n: this is my first ever fic and I’m really insecure about my writing. Please be kind 🥺💖 (gif is not mine)

Writing challenge by @mypoisonedvine

“This one, daddy, this one!” Bucky chuckles as he looks towards his toddler, who sits on the kitchen isle in front of a box full of  biscuit cutters. The three year old holds up a huge reindeer cutter and smiles toothily at her father.

“Dude, it's way too big. We won't even be able to fit four of those on one baking tray. Why do we even have one this large?” The teenager stands to the left of her sister and looks at Bucky with a questioning gaze. Her hair is lazily put into a low bun and an ugly Christmas jumper adorns her body.

“Eileen, don't call your sister 'dude'”, the teen rolls her eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh, “Whatever” He makes his way towards the toddler and gently takes the reindeer out of her hands, while sending his oldest a warning look. “You heard your sister, baby. Let's choose some smaller ones” he explains and pulls the box towards himself.

His eyes fall on a Mickey Mouse biscuit cutter and a smile takes over his face. He grabs the desired object and places it on the isle, “When your sister was in kindergarten she made this all by herself. We use these every year. They are very special to me”. The little girl holds up the cutter to inspect it and then looks to Bucky. “Special?”, she asks.

He nods and watches as his youngest daughter holds the cutter towards her big sister. “We use this one, yes Isla?” Eileen smiles, accepts the object and places it on the counter next to the dough. She shakes her head lightly and grins at her father, “I can't believe you've kept this all these years”

Bucky shrugs and continues searching the box for appropriate biscuit cutters. “You gifted this to me, of course I kept it. You looked so proud when you brought this home, I'll never forget. Also, I'm pretty sure your father would have beheaded me if I even thought about throwing this away”, he pauses, just for some seconds, “We were probably as proud as you, if not more”. Bucky fetches a star and a smaller reindeer biscuit cutter out of the box and hands them to the toddler.

Eileen hums before turning towards her little sister, “Do you like ones dad chose, Sarah?”. She nods and holds her arms up, silently demanding to be carried. The older girl obliges and puts the toddler on her hip, so that they can add the new cutters to the counter.

Bucky joins his children with another biscuit cutter and the dough in his hands. He places both items down and grabs the rolling pin to flatten out the dough. “I remember how much papa loved baking biscuits. He'd always let me decorate them, even though he was so much better at it”, Eileen says while putting Sarah on the counter and holding her waist, in case she'll fall down. She eyes Bucky hesitantly.

He stops for a moment to collect himself and then forces a smile on his face, “He always loved everything you did. You were his little superstar. There wasn't a thing you could have done wrong. You've always been his pride and joy”. Bucky continues rolling the dough, “He always felt bad about actually eating them. He couldn't bear to destroy your art”

“That's what I've got you for though!”, his oldest giggles and gently pinches Bucky's tummy, which makes him release a high pitched shriek. Sarah begins to laugh loudly at her father's silliness and tries to tickle him as well. The man however grabs her hand and pulls her little body towards his chest. He quickly presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Alright, I think we can start cutting. Sarah, baby, do you want daddy to help you?” The young girl nods and claps her hands in an excited manner, “Please, daddy!” Bucky grins and encourages his youngest daughter to choose a cutter. Eileen quickly fishes for her Mickey Mouse one, a smile upon her lips. Sarah takes her time to think, before she carefully picks out the star shape. “Good choice, bug!”

The family spends some time on cutting and baking multiple batches of biscuits, laughing and smiling. After a couple minutes, Eileen starts to play a Christmas playlist to which they sing to. Time was flying and soon they found themselves ready to decorate their goodies.

Bucky forces Sarah to put on an apron and ties her dirty blond hair back into a ponytail. Eileen mixes different coloured icings and opens some sprinkles and edible glitter. Her father eyes the glitter and sighs, “This is going to end in a mess, right?” The older girl smiles sheepishly and her father accepts his defeat.

“Alright then girls, let's get going”. Eileen takes on the job of delicately dipping the biscuits into the icing while Bucky desperately tries to stop his toddler from pouring a whole bag of sprinkles over one single biscuit. And like anticipated, once Sarah finds the glitter, it's over. There's glitter everywhere. In his hair, in his children's hair, on the counter, the floor and of course, on the baked goods.

Once they finished all the biscuits and stored them, Bucky leans against the counter, utterly exhausted. His eyes drift to the clock. It's already 6 pm and he still needs to cook dinner. Upon seeing his father so tired, Eileen slides next to him and places a hand on his, “How about we order some food? We can even choose something healthy, if you want to” He raises his eyebrows, “Healthy you say?”. She nods and Bucky narrows his eyes, “Who are you and what have you done to my teen?”

His dramatic reaction causes her to snort and shake her head. “Well, do you want me to order something or not?”

———

After devouring some nice Italian cuisine and doing a whole lot of dishes, everyone is laying on the couch, tired, yet satisfied. “I'm glad baking biscuits is an annual occurrence. This shit is way to exhausting”, Eileen yawns out and cuddles up to her father, who lifts up an arm to pull her towards him. Sarah is already fast asleep on his belly.  Bucky gives his oldest a warning nudge for using a swear word, but quickly presses a kiss to her temple afterwards.

“Papa hated when I swore. And he always heard it too! I could have been on the moon for all I care and he would have still known”, she complains with a light smile on her face. Bucky chuckles and begins to play with her hair, “You could always hear him yell 'Language!' whenever someone used a bad word”. He sighs, “Your father was a good man. He only wished for the best for you and your sister”. Eileen remains silent.

“Are we going to visit papa tomorrow?”, she asks after a while. Bucky nods, “I was planning on doing so. Is that okay with you?”. The teenager mumbles a quiet 'yes' and yawns again. “Alright, my love. I think it's time for bed” She grumbles, but uses one of her hands to stroke some hair from her eyes. Sitting up, she yawns again and presses a kiss to her father's cheek, “Good night, dad. I love you”

“I love you too, dear. Sweet dreams”, he calls out to her retreating figure. The shine of the vanilla candles illuminates her form and Bucky can't help the warm feeling in his chest. Eileen grew up to be such a beautiful young woman and he realises again just how proud he is. Proud of her responsibility, her independence and her love for herself. It hasn't always been easy for her and she still pulled through to be her best self, which he can't help but admire.

Before he can get too emotional, Bucky gets up as well, careful to not disrupt his daughter's sleep. He blows out the candles, the smoke filling his nostrils with an overwhelming smell of vanilla. Steve always insisted on buying exactly these candles, for they calmed his mind enough to sketch a little, and really, how could Bucky ever deny his love? Now they are a reminder of him. His scent and laugh, the sound of his pencils scratching his paper, the feel of his lips on Bucky's own.

He shakes his head to rid himself of these thoughts and makes his way up the stairs into Sarah's room. He tucks her into the tiny bed and kisses her forehead, “Good night, baby. Sweet dreams. Daddy loves you”, he whispers.

On the wall across the door is the wall painting Steve made before their youngest daughter was born. He was so excited to meet her and made it his goal to create the most beautiful nursery for her. The underwater scene displays so much of Steve's character, from the way he carefully handled the brush to his determined, strong strokes. Bucky is happy that Sarah has this reminder of her papa, especially because she never had the chance to meet him.

He sneaks out of her room, switching on her night light on his way out. One of his hands rests on his soft belly and squeezes the fat that has collected there. A yawn ripples through him which makes him move to his own bedroom. There, the walls are shining in a light orange which creates an illusion of a  bigger room, or so Steve used to say.

Bucky unzips his jeans and throws them on the growing pile of dirty clothes on the floor. He'll have to do laundry soon. His soft jumper joins his trousers, leaving Bucky in some grey boxer briefs. Too tired to bother putting on pyjamas, Bucky lets himself fall into the king sized bed, which stretches under his weight. He turns to his night stand and reaches for the framed picture that rests upon it. His fingers run over the soft wood of the frame, a small smile on his lips.

“Oh, Steve”, he sighs. Suddenly, his strong exterior is quickly crumbling and Bucky's lips begin to tremble. He takes a deep breath. “I miss you so much”, his voice is shaky from his efforts to hold back the tears. “I wish you were still here: Oh god, Steve”. He begins to cry, sobs echoing off of the walls, tears rolling down his puffy cheeks. The picture slides out of his hands and falls onto the bed. Bucky covers his face and tries to muffle the sounds escaping.

It's been over three years since, but he can''t move on. He can't and he won't, wouldn't dare to. Bucky is exhausted, mentally and physically. He's trying to be strong, for Eileen, for Sarah, for Steve. These children are Steve's biggest treasure and Bucky is going to make sure they are happy and safe. It's what Steve would have wanted and he can't fail him.

He tries to wipe the tears away, but new ones follow immediately. “Fuck Steve, I'm so sorry. I wish I could have done more”, Bucky cries and pulls the framed photo to his chest, curling around it as if he were to protect it, “I wish it would have been me!”. Sobs continue to roll through his body. He tries to breathe through his nose, to be calm and controlled, but the piercing ache in his heart continues to make him cry out. His soft belly shakes with each agonized shudder and every heartbreaking sob.

Once he's finally calmed down, he dries his cheeks and presses his lips to Steve's picture. The cold glass a stark contrast to Bucky's warm lips. Immediately, it begins to fog up under the man's hot breath. His fingers find their wedding rings, which he is wearing on a chain around his neck, and play with them. The metallic sounds when they bump into each other fills the void room and aid Bucky into finally resting. Just before he falls asleep, the words “with you 'till the end of the line” fall from his lips.

———

The next day, the Rogers-Barnes family is bundled up in thick, fluffy coats, scarves and hats to fight against the biting cold. They are cuddled up on a picnic blanket and warm their hands with cups of hot chocolate. Their breath fogs up the icy air and the smell of biscuits is prominent. Bucky looks down to Eileen who is feeding Sarah a reindeer treat. He smiles.

“Do you like your biscuits, baby?”. The toddler nods enthusiastically and offers the rest of her half eaten goodie to her father, a big, toothy grin on her face. He grins mischievously  and eats the whole biscuit in one bite, which makes the younger girl gasps dramatically before bursting out in giggles, “Silly daddy!”

Eileen smirks and joins in, “Yes, silly daddy. He will never lose some pounds this way” Her hand pats his belly after she squeezes his admittedly pudgy cheeks, “but that's what we love you for, right Sarah?” The addressed girl nods, already on her next biscuit. Bucky smiles widely and throws an arm over his oldest and pulls her to his chest, “I know you're just jealous of my dad bod”, his hands stroke over his tummy in an appreciative manner. The teen hums an agreement and cuddles herself closer to her father.

“I guess your hugs have increased in efficiency”. The chubby man grins and kisses both of his daughters' heads. “Your papa loved it too. He'd always give me some nice belly rubs”, he tells her before looking over to the grave they are sitting next to,”isn't that right, Stevie?”

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To Be Loved (1/?)

Prompt: Perhaps, you understand Harry Potter better then anyone else. Perhaps, it’s why, when your eyes meet his for the first time, you feel an instant connection. Perhaps, it’s why, you love him.

Based off of: The Harry Potter Series Pairing: Harry Potter x Black/Tonks!Reader, slight Fred Weasley x Black/Tonks!Reader A/N: So here it is!! The very first part!! I really hope you guys enjoy the series because I am so incredibly stoked for her -- specifically movies POA, GOF, and OOTP!! I have so much planned, lol.

Also, Fred won the voting poll -- meaning, Y/N will have a small bit of romance with him, before she eventually ends up with Harry.

Chapters will also be longer after this one, but I felt an introduction was needed, so it’s a tad bit on the short side.

“Lupin, I... we...--”

There’s an echo of silence. Andromeda finds herself unsure of what to say, or rather, how to say it. Her mind was fuzzy with great confusion, her chest tight with fear. She could hardly believe it -- how could it... it couldn’t possibly be true.

Her husband seems to understand her meaning though, understanding the thoughts that race through her mind. With a brief glance her way, taking in the lost expression in her eyes, Ted swallows thickly before glancing over to the young man sat in front of him. He looked tired, terribly so. He looked misplaced, as if he didn’t belong where he was sat; uncomfortable too. His eyes were dull, no light in them, no spark of joy.

Ted didn’t blame him. This man had lost four friends in one night. This man had lost his happiness completely. The dull look in his eyes was an understatement of what he’d endured, witness and gone through.

“It’s true then?” Ted asks quietly, not really sure how else to phrase the question. He felt like he was walking on eggshells, not wanting to set off either of those sat around him, but desperate to know the truth. “He... really did do it?”

He doesn’t have to say a name for Lupin to know who he’s talking about.

“It would seem that way,” Lupin whispers, voice gone, faint, cracked. Ted regards him carefully, with a watchful eye, but also, pity. Understanding of something he didn’t truly understand. He had no idea the severity of how the young man must be feeling, and in all truth, he didn’t want to. Ted had been friends with him too, but not like Lupin. “He’s being sent to Azkaban.”

“What about the boy?”

It’s the first coherent and full sentence Andromeda has managed to find herself able to speak. It’s the first time she’s felt she’s been able to find her voice again. Her eyes flicker to Lupin’s and hold his own scared and sad ones firmly, worry in her gaze for that young baby. The Boy Who Lived. The boy who no longer had parents of his own. The boy who was alone in this world.

“Dumbledore says he’ll be staying with the next of kin,” Lupin explains, voice numb. “Lily’s...--” And he chokes at the mention of her name. “Lily’s, uh, sister and her husband. The have a child Harry’s age.”

Ted nods, makes the most sense. Of course, he didn’t know what Lily’s sister really was like.

Lupin did though.

Andromeda’s head turns, glancing up at the stairs of her house, to where you lay, peacefully asleep. She’d put you asleep herself not an hour ago, held you in her arms when the world had seemed alright. She’d told you that your father would be back soon, that daddy was coming to see you. At the time, it’d been true. Now, Andromeda felt like nothing but a filthy liar.

Turning back to Lupin, her mind set; “we’re keeping Y/N.”

“D-Dromeda--” Ted stutters, appalled by her words. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel the same, he didn’t want to give you up either. Not with everything that’s happened. Not after your father...-- But, he didn’t know if it was their place to be making any demands. He didn’t know if they’d be allowed to keep you. 

Andromeda’s fierce and determined eyes fall on her husband. “She belongs with us.” She says, voice firm and raising slightly with distress and plea. “We’re her next of kin. We’ve already taken care of her this much. She needs to be with us, she needs a sense of familiarity. I won’t just pass her off like some trophy for the winning and I certainly won’t let my family have her.” Then, she turns to Lupin. “We’d take great care of her. We already have. We’d raised her loved. Adopt her so she’s really part of the family, last name and all.”

“Dromeda,” Ted hisses lightly, placing his hand over her own, squeezing it tightly. “Lupin’s her Godfather.” He turns to Lupin, whose yet to say anything. Or really even react. “Y/N belongs with him just as much as us.”

There’s an air of silence. Both Ted and Andromeda turn to Lupin, waiting, expecting.

Shifting in his seat, Lupin leans forward, clasping his hands together on the table. A small, almost thoughtful smile curls onto his lips as he keeps his gaze lowered. “Sirius named me her Godfather,” there’s a pause at the sound of his name. “It’s true. And I love Y/N like my own daughter. But, you,” and his eyes set on Andromeda specifically. “Will raise her better then I ever could.”

Andromeda eases, and a small smile curls onto her lips. Ted seems a bit more reluctant.

“Are you sure, Lupin--”

Lupin nods. “I have one request however.”

“Anything.”

“I’d still like to... visit her.” Lupin whispers, body tensing as his vulnerability shines through. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to see Harry because Dumbledore would like him to grow up away from magic. But... I couldn’t bare to...” And he doesn’t finish, not sure how to.

Andromeda reaches across the table, taking Lupin’s hand in her own, which elicits a soft gasp of surprise from him, before she squeezes it firmly. When Lupin meets her gaze, her eyes are warm and inviting, and despite everything she’s found the strength to smile. “Of course,” she whispers with certainty, “you can visit Y/N anytime. Our home is yours.”

Lupin nods, smiling his thanks.

They finish the night off with a promise from Andromeda that she assures Lupin that Ted and her will take great care of Y/N. Lupin has no doubt that they will. Sirius had left you with them in the first place, as protection from everything. And even now, after everything, Lupin is assured he’d never cause harm to you. Never you.

Ted and Andromeda Tonks home was the best home for you. 

He makes his way up the steps, wanting to say farewell one last time because it might be a bit before he can see you again. He creeps into your room, making sure to be extra quiet when he sneaks past the Tonks daughter Nymphadora’s room, slipping into your own. A sense of ease floods him at the sight of you, peacefully sleeping away. Your tiny little thumb was in your mouth and your H/C hair came out in wisps around your head.

But Lupin knew, if you’d open your eyes, he’d see Sirius staring back at him.

Lupin finds himself then, glad that you’re asleep.

Leaning over the edge of your crib, the tips of Lupin’s fingers ghost across your skin softly, touch gentle, eyes adoring as he smiles faintly down at you. The smile doesn’t reach his eyes, but, he does find himself at peace with you. An innocent baby who had no idea what your own father just done.

“Your father wasn’t always like this,” Lupin whispers, wistfully. “There was a time he...he--” And he can’t finish. It’s too painful. Memories of his friendship with your father, with James and Peter too... it hurts too much that words can’t even properly explain it.

“I’ll see you soon, Y/N. That’s a promise.”

When he’s making his way out the door, bidding farewell to both Andromeda and Tonks. he finds himself making one last request. “Don’t tell her about Sirius. No one really knows he even has a daughter.” And at the confused and baffled expressions he receives, he adds. “At least, don’t tell her the truth. She doesn’t deserve to have that weight placed on her.”

Sirius Black’s daughter; just as crazed and evil as he is.

Sirius Black’s daughter; a murderer for a father.

Sirius Black’s daughter; hated by everyone because he killed James and Lily Potter.

You don’t deserve that.

And Andromeda and Ted have no reason to argue. Because he’s right.

-

11 YEARS LATER

-

You wake with a start. 

Today’s the day.

Jumping up to your feet, you hastily start to get ready. Your feet bounce with each step you take and you can hardly contain yourself as you start rushing about your room, trying to brush your hair and teeth at the same time. Trying to pull on your shirt while washing your face.

You can hear the distant sounds of pots and pans downstairs and know that breakfast is being made. But even as your stomach rumbles in hunger, you find you don’t really much care about whatever’s being made for breakfast that morning. Because, today’s the day.

You come bounding into the kitchen, a knowing smile on Andromeda’s face as she hears your racing footsteps come barreling down the stairs. Ted smirks behind his coffee cup as you come running into the kitchen, breathless, your hair a knotted mess upon your head, the sleeve of your sweater hanging off your shoulder.

“Good morning, darling,” Andromeda greets with a light laugh, quirking a brow over at you as you take a seat at the kitchen table. She places the prepared plate of food before you, before turning to do the same with Ted, who presses a grateful kiss against her cheek in response, before moving off to grab a plate for herself, not saying anything else.

Your eyes watch her carefully, anxious.

“My God, Y/N,” begins Ted, setting down the paper he’d been reading to glance over at you, feigned shock plastered on his face. “You can barely keep still in your own seat. Is there something on your mind?”

You huff at him, shaking your head. How typical of him to forget. “Today’s the day!”

Teasingly, Ted glances back at Andromeda, who, like him, feigns understanding.

“What’s today?”

You only shake your head again, choosing not to answer -- they should know -- and exasperated with them as you take a big bite out of your toast, As you quickly sip some orange juice, you turn your attention back on them. “Has the post come yet?”

“Oh!” Andromeda calls, setting down her plate before walking back over to kitchen counter to grab a handful of letters. “Thank you for reminding me, darling. I’m expecting a letter.”

Me too. You watch carefully, food forgotten, as she stifles through the handful of letters, leg pouncing with anticipation. 

It has to be in there. It has to be in there.

But it isn’t. Andromeda goes through all four letters in her hand and not one of them is for you.

Your heart falls with devastation, plummeting to the pit of your stomach as your shoulders slack and you glance down at your lap. You almost want to cry you’re so disappointed. But today was supposed to be... It should’ve come today...

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” Ted questions, taking another sip of his coffee. “Were you expecting a letter?”

With a moan, you nod, poking at your food.

“Perhaps a letter from... Hogwarts?”

You raise your head, eyes flickering upwards as a bright, big smile curls onto your lips when you see the letter levitating before your eyes. A glance back at Ted and Andromeda and you can tell, if it hadn’t been obvious before, that they’d been teasing you purposely and with a roll of your eyes, you quickly snatch the letter, practically ripping the envelope open.

You open it with with eager eyes, barely able to contain your happiness as you begin reading aloud:

Dear Miss Tonks, 

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. 

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall. Deputy Headmistress.

Your excited eyes fall on your adoptive parents. “It’s true then?” You question, voice pitching, hopeful. “I’m going to Hogwarts? Really?”

Laughing, Andromeda nods. “Yes, it’s true, dear.”

A squeal of joy leaves your lips and you practically hug the letter tight to your chest, eyes clenching shut in joy. You’ve only ever heard about Hogwarts from your parents and your sister, Nymphadora, who had graduated not that long ago. They were all in separate houses, and every story they told you, you held on tightly to, absorbing it with great fascination and interest for the day you finally got to go yourself.

And it was really happening!

“I wonder what house i’ll be in,” you wonder aloud, voice soft with curiosity, nervous eyes peeking over at your parents. “I wonder who my friends’ll be.”

“I do believe the Weasley’s youngest son starts his first year this year too,” Ted offers, nodding to himself as he smiles over you. “I’m sure you and Ron will be able to help each other out.”

You smile, nodding. “And the twins too! They’ll be in their...” You pause in thought for a moment, before grinning. “Third year!”

“Yes,” Ted laughs, nodding. “The twins too. They’re quite fond of you.”

A small blush comes to your cheeks.

“And,” Andromeda moves to add, meeting your gaze firmly. “We’ll support you no matter what house you end up in. I was in Slytherin, Ted, Ravenclaw and Nymphadora in Hufflepuff.” She pauses, before a thought occurs to her. “And then, Lupin was in--”

“Gryffindor!” You answer for her, smiling big. “Ooh! I’ll have to send him a letter, tell him i’m going to Hogwarts. He’ll be so happy. Do you think he’ll be proud?”

“Of course he will.” Andromeda smiles, “maybe he can take you shopping for your school supplies.”

Biting your lip, you set down your letter. “Do you think he will?”

Ted shrugs. “I don’t see why not.”

“I’m sure Uncle Lupin would love too.” Andromeda assures you, before her eyes fall on your plate. “Now, eat, darling. You’ve got a busy few days ahead of yourself, what with starting Hogwarts and all.”

Your stomach rumbles as Andromeda finishes, and you comply without complaint, moving to finish your breakfast eagerly. But still, even as you eat and the two of them chatter off absentmindedly, all you can seem to focus on is Hogwarts. On what you have to expect. All the wonderful new things you’ll learn...

You hope you’re Gryffindor like Uncle Lupin. He also told you that your father had been Gryffindor, and even if your father would never be able to tell you, you’d do anything to make him proud. Plus, almost all of the Weasleys are Gryffindor’s too. You’d love to be in the same house as Fred and George.

Slytherin would be cool too. Especially since your mom was apart of it. So would Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

But Gryffindor... to be closer to your dad...

That’d be nice.

-

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