#“punch first ask questions later”

[helsensm]

If you’re still taking requests, Mk1 Kung Lao meets Mk11 Kung Lao?

I will use this ask to finish the wip I had since November, thank you anon <3

[sojourner-between-worlds]

Yusei is just....so kidnap-able.

Hear me out.

Man either has bad tinnitus or just out-right hearing loss from years of working on engines with zero ear protection. We know this for two reasons: 1. When he's working on his bike and revs the engine, Saiga, Yanagi, and Himuro all flinch and cover their ears and Yusei...doesn't so much as bat an eye. and 2. When he's leaving to steal his bike back, Saiga hears when Ushio revs his engine from inside a building on the second story and Yusei? Normally when one hears an engine on an otherwise deserted street, one naturally turns to see the source of the noise. Yusei does not. The street is freaking empty, and somehow he doesn't notice the only vehicle that is clearly going slow enough to not pass him by. (And it's not like Ushio is just too far away to hear. He's not. He's shown to be not that far behind. And he's on a freaking loud motorcycle. Most people would notice that.)

Look, we all know Yusei would win in a fight, but not if he doesn't notice his assailant sneaking up behind him because he can't hear them before he gets whacked in the head.

In conclusion, it is very little wonder that he ends up getting kidnapped in canon.

[funky-sea-cryptid]

there's a lot to say about black clover but one thing that's always fucking commendable and it's that every single woman in black clover has the capacity and the range to murder someone.

[kayvsworld]

i know this is in part the Point but like. daredevil s2 is very funny 2 me specifically bc i've been actively switching tabs every time matt resorted to gratuitous enthusiastic violence towards anyone even implicated in knowing information about a crime (do any crime get all of your bones broken that's the price of crimes) and now he's like. watching a dude get punched in the face by the punisher and acting like it's the worst thing he's ever witnessed someone do ohhhh my goooosh how could you do a violence. in front of ME, your local violence dealer

daredevil voice i don't KILL people i just maim them and put them in comas and drop them off of buildings which is ok <3 bc it's me & i can hear their heart not stop so all good <3

[coloringout]

buddie the mummy au, is that anything?

[zenitsuinamogus]

Been liking your Dungeon Meshi manga panel colorings a lot, keep up the good work!

There seems to be a texture to your colors, is that from a specific tool you use or is it the manga panels themselves that have the texture already?

Thank you, I am glad you like them!

I make all of my manga colorings on ibisPaint X which is an app like Photoshop, so the texture comes from two noise overlays at different levels of fuzziness, one below the colors and one above.

Recently I have also been experimenting with adding dotted/diagonal screentone overlays to get a more vintage, printed feel.

This is what my recent colorings look like with and without texture overlays ~

I really like the look and feel of vintage comics and prints, so I use texture in my digital colorings to try and replicate that gritty, rough feeling of physical paper. I started doing it with my first few manga colorings [which at the time were from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure and Demon Slayer] and it kind of stuck and has since become my signature style since. Whether they look better with or without texture is up to personal preference but I think it adds a lot of dimension to the otherwise flat colors.

Thanks again for the ask, and I hope you will continue to enjoy my future colorings!

Also, I may post some of my older works I originally shared on reddit since my Dungeon Meshi colorings are actually a very new hyperfixation and I have around 150+ colorings from Jujutsu Kaisen, Demon Slayer, One Punch Man, Chainsaw Man, and more. If that interests anyone I will share them ♡

[zinniapetals]

whenever I read a sskk fic that has Atsushi acting so…wimpy? I guess is the word, I have to exit off.

That boy is sassy and rude and honestly, so snarky towards akutagawa so why do so many people write him all teary eyed and uwu baby ?? I’m just—

[webshootersandwingdings]

In a time where so many writers get Carol wrong, how refreshing it is to go back and see Taskmaster (disguised as Captain America) recognize Carol Danvers for her stealth and espionage abilities.

The Avengers (1998) #26

[jaekaicx]

hmmm

[ashendalia]

@ last post

This just validates me even more for making my DmC SI/OC Dahlia feral and unhinged most of the time lmao

[choerypetal]

Love at first sight. / Squid Games!Men

summary; a little prompt for each men in squid game x reader.

also my english isn't my first language so i do apologize for a few errors! enjoys x

including; in-ho, thanos, myung-gi, dae-ho & gi-hun

In-ho: 

Praise yourself for catching In-ho’s attention amidst the chaos of the games. Not only did he manage to maintain his composure, but he also came to terms with the truth—it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him, but his heart betraying him. He had been ensnared in a dangerous blend of love and death. And no matter the cost, he was determined to ensure your survival, even if it meant faking your death and arranging for the guards to escort you to his shelter.

At first, his actions were subtle—a few fleeting glances, quiet assurances that you weren’t alone. He took it upon himself to ensure someone capable stood between you and danger. This resolve led him to seek out Gi-hun, cornering him with a whispered plea. “I’m not asking for much,” In-ho murmured, his voice low and firm. Gi-hun’s brows knit together as he glanced at you, understanding little of the request but sensing its weight. Though the urge to question why In-ho couldn’t protect you himself lingered, Gi-hun ultimately accepted—he, too, had his own plans to carry out.

Yet, watching Gi-hun hover near you ignited something unexpected in In-ho—a simmering, unanticipated jealousy. His blood boiled harder than he cared to admit.

It was Gi-hun’s proximity to you that set him on edge.

While 001 had extended a friendly hand, In-ho never anticipated him stealing you away entirely. The realization unsettled him, and during the chaos of the Carousel games, panic began to creep in. When he noticed you were nowhere to be found in the room, it nearly consumed him. The thought of losing you made his fists clench, and for a brief, irrational moment, he contemplated throwing a punch at Gi-hun. But it wasn’t until the final elimination, when the doors unlocked, that relief washed over him. There you were—your silhouette unmistakable behind Dae-ho.

In that instant, he didn’t hesitate. Rushing toward you, his breath hitched, words failing him. A shaky exhale escaped his lips, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming relief. He almost laughed—a scoff of incredulity—before pulling you close, his hand instinctively cradling the back of your head. Without a second thought, he leaned in, his lips pressing a firm but tender kiss to your forehead.

“Silly,” he muttered, his voice tight with emotion. “I never should’ve trusted Gi-hun to keep you safe. Damn it, I thought I’d lost you.” The panic in his voice caught you off guard, the weight of his words sinking in. You hadn’t expected such raw vulnerability from him—not now, not like this. A soft chuckle escaped you, an attempt to lighten the moment. “It’s okay,” you reassured him gently. “Dae-ho found me right away and made sure I was safe.”

That revelation gave In-ho pause, but he filed it away for later. For now, none of it mattered. You were alive and unharmed, and that was everything.

The kiss on your forehead wasn’t just a gesture of relief—it was a silent declaration. You were his, and no one—not Gi-hun, not Dae-ho, not anyone—would ever take you from him again.

Thanos: 

Once a retired rapper, Thanos now found himself thrust into a life-and-death struggle. Among his generation, it was no surprise that some idolized him—his presence commanding a respect so intense, it bordered on worship. To them, he was pristine, untouchable. But this adoration didn’t sit well with everyone, especially loners like you, who preferred to navigate the chaos without attachments.

Ironically, that aloofness was one of the many reasons Thanos found himself drawn to you.

In the early days on the island, Thanos made no effort to reveal his interest. If anything, he mirrored your indifference, matching your cold detachment with his own. But when you began spending time with Myung-gi, the dynamic shifted. Thanos hadn’t expected it, nor did he like it. Watching you bond with someone else left a bitter taste in his mouth, awakening a tension he couldn’t ignore. The loner mindset had been his strategy for survival—a simple equation: fewer people, fewer complications. But your presence complicated everything, especially when it came to your effortlessly beautiful face, which he found himself stealing glances at far too often.

It didn’t take long for his resolve to crack.

Thanos had made himself a promise: to keep his distance, to ignore you as you ignored him. But that promise shattered the moment Nam-Gyu let slip a confession Thanos had sworn him to secrecy about. That little fucker, Thanos thought bitterly, though his anger was tempered by necessity—he needed Nam-Gyu to survive. Yet, when the truth reached you, it unraveled him in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

Instead of drawing you closer, the revelation pushed you further away. Your avoidance became more deliberate, more pronounced than ever before. It stung more than Thanos cared to admit. For the first time in a long time, he was unprepared—for your reaction, for the way it tightened a knot of frustration and longing deep inside him.

Which only added more tension between the two of you.

The final games loomed, a trial where survival would demand more than just cunning—it called for a kind of ruthless cleansing. Thanos knew, without hesitation, that when the moment came, he’d be the first to grab your hand and shield you. Even if it meant overreacting, even if it jeopardized his own chances, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Certainly not to Myung-gi, if it came down to that.

“You know...” he murmured late that night, his voice low and almost hesitant. Your back was turned to him, your body stiff on the thin mattress. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, couldn’t even steal a glance. Not after everything. The weight of his breath lingered against the back of your neck, and you flinched slightly, betraying your nerves. His presence, so close and unyielding, was suffocating yet magnetic.

“Tomorrow is... big,” he continued, his words faltering as his gaze shifted across the dimly lit dormitory. For a moment, his eyes locked on Player 333, who sat sharpening a weapon in the corner—a stark reminder of the danger waiting ahead. Thanos clenched his jaw, then turned his focus back to you.

“If we’re not careful...” he trailed off, his voice softening, almost breaking. “Who knows if I’ll ever get to see your beautiful face again?”He exhaled sharply, frustrated with himself, as if admitting even that much was a risk. “I know it’s—” 

Your head snapped toward him, your brows furrowing into a glare sharp enough to cut through the tension between you. For a moment, silence hung in the air, charged and heavy. Then, your voice broke it, calm yet biting. “If you keep this up, you might be the one ending up with a bullet in the face,” you said, your tone so nonchalant it bordered on cute—a contrast that left Thanos momentarily stunned. He blinked, almost scoffing in disbelief, one hand pressing dramatically against his chest.

“Ouch,” he drawled, his lips curling into a grin. “I’m hurt, sweetheart.”

Your eyes narrowed into daggers. “Do. Not. Call me sweetheart.”

Before you could say more, Nam-Gyu chimed in from his corner, a mischievous smirk playing on his face. “I bet she’s in love,” he teased, his words practically dripping with mockery.

Thanos’s cocky grin widened at that, his eyes gleaming with a maddening mix of pride and amusement. The sheer arrogance in his expression made your fingers twitch, itching to slap that smug look right off his face. But instead, you gave him one final glare—a death wish in your eyes, though to Thanos, it looked like the beginning of a love story.

“I bet she is,” he echoed, his voice soft but certain, the words carrying a weight of truth that made your chest tighten. He didn’t try to stop you as you turned and walked away, but his gaze lingered, following every step you took. Oh, how you had him wrapped around your finger without even realizing it. A wimp for you, and you alone.

Myung-gi: 

Everyone knew who Player 333 was—you included. Unlike many in this room who were desperate to claw their way out of debt, you knew Myung-gi only by name. You’d heard the rumors: how he’d gotten his girlfriend pregnant, how his past was littered with mistakes and secrets. But something in you—a stubborn spark of hope, perhaps—whispered that he wasn’t as bad as everyone wanted him to be. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than the stories let on.

Myung-gi had noticed you, though. He’d seen the way you were with Jun-hee—the way your smile seemed to ease her fears, how your arms would wrap gently around her petite frame after every game, grounding her, giving her the space to breathe. The quiet strength and warmth you brought to her felt almost unreal, a motherly presence in a place devoid of comfort.

It was that tenderness, that undeniable light, that struck him like a blow to the chest.

Myung-gi was in love.

And he hated every single moment of it.

Why? Because he knew himself. He knew what he’d done to Jun-hee—how he’d left her while she was pregnant with his child, drowning in debt and fear. He’d been a coward, an asshole, and he knew it. That self-loathing festered, a constant reminder of his failures. And yet, it was exactly why he didn’t expect you to see him as anything other than the man he despised.

But fate had other plans.

Your first real interaction with him came after he saved you—something neither of you had anticipated.

It happened during the Bathroom games, where survival left no room for personal grudges. Confronting Thanos wasn’t at the forefront of Myung-gi’s mind, but then he heard it—your name, slipping from Thanos’s lips with such filth that it ignited a rage Myung-gi didn’t know he was capable of.

Everyone knew your past as an escort within the crypto community. Your name wasn’t hard to find, whispered in private conversations and occasionally tied to scandalous wallets. But Myung-gi knew better than to judge. Still, hearing Thanos—the retired rapper—speak of you like that, as though you were nothing more than a commodity, was the last straw.

“She was good for a foreigner. Not many—”

That was as far as Thanos got before Myung-gi’s fist collided with his jaw, cutting him off mid-sentence. The sickening crack of impact echoed through the grimy bathroom, followed by a faint splatter of blood. Myung-gi emerged from the stall alive but seething, his knuckles raw and his breath ragged. As he stepped out, his gaze immediately locked with yours. Jun-hee stood beside you, clinging to your arm for reassurance, but the look on your face was unreadable—a mix of surprise, understanding, and something softer.

A small, almost imperceptible smile crept across Myung-gi’s lips.

In that moment, he made a silent promise: no matter what it took, he’d make sure both of you got out of this alive.

Dae-ho: 

Dae-ho never believed in love at first sight. With everything he’d endured in his life—the trials, the sacrifices, the relentless pursuit of strength—he saw himself as a knight in shining armor, bound by duty but never destined for romance. That belief held firm until he met you.

It happened during the Carousel game. Like In-ho, he’d noticed you before—your stoic demeanor during Green Light, Red Light had left him quietly impressed. The way you moved, swift yet calculated, managing to evade the statue’s unrelenting gaze with precision, was nothing short of remarkable. It was then that something shifted in him. Against all reason, Dae-ho found himself believing in love at first sight.

At first, he thought he was imagining it. He even considered pinching himself, blinking twice to dispel the notion. But the feeling persisted, undeniable and maddening. It wasn’t until later, when you tended to his wounds after one of the brutal games, that he finally saw you up close—and the full weight of your beauty struck him like a blow. Your lashes fluttered delicately as you focused on your task, your fingers gentle but firm as you dabbed rubbing alcohol onto his injuries. He hissed at the sting, his lips parting in a soft groan of pain.

“Be still, please,” you murmured, your tone calm but commanding. Something about the way you said it—the quiet strength in your voice—silenced his protests. He nodded, his muscles relaxing under your care, though the tension in his chest was harder to soothe.

For the first time, Dae-ho felt vulnerable—not because of his wounds, but because of you.

“You know…” His voice was low, almost hesitant, but there was a softness to it that made you pause. You could’ve sworn his lips curved into the faintest smile. “I never would’ve thought I’d see you like this—healing me. Back at the Carousel, I swore to myself I’d keep you close, that we’d find the door as quickly as anyone else. But then… the next thing I knew, Thanos had taken you before I could…”

He trailed off, his words tinged with shame. The vulnerability in his voice made you glance up at him, your fingers stilling as you finished securing the bandage. His eyes widened at your sudden attention, and he immediately began to stammer.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

You interrupted him with a soft sigh, sliding the remaining bandage back into your pocket. “Don’t apologize. We just weren’t lucky, that’s all. I wanted to prove to myself that I could handle it—that I wasn’t just someone who had to count on others.” Your gaze softened as you added, almost reluctantly, “But… I have to admit, not having you there in that room—it was horrible.”

Your quiet confession was enough to undo him. Without a word, Dae-ho wrapped his arms around you, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at his wounds. Still, he didn’t let go. His embrace was warm, protective, and when he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, it felt like a promise.

“Nevertheless,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet reassurance, “I’m just glad we made it through. That you’re here with me.” His lips quirked into a small grin as he added, with a teasing lilt, “And that I get to cuddle with you for another night.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, the tension between you easing for a moment. For now, at least, you both had each other.

Gi-hun: 

Unlike the others, you weren’t a player. But you knew Gi-hun from the previous game he was in. He was so certain you had died right in front of his eyes back then that when he saw the mask ripped off your face—revealing you as one of the Guards—his shock was palpable. Another Guard had been taken hostage by the remaining candidates, and though you could have cursed every word that came to mind, you found yourself frozen, your voice stolen by the chaos.

In-ho was the first to recognize you. He knew you were on shift at this hour, but what he hadn’t expected was the look of sheer horror that crossed Gi-hun’s face when your name escaped his lips.

“Y/N...?” Gi-hun’s voice trembled, disbelief heavy in the air as though he was trying to confirm he wasn’t dreaming.

“You know them?” one of the players sneered, their stolen gun now aimed squarely at Gi-hun. Bodies of your co-workers—faces you barely had time to register—lay scattered across the floor, lifeless, just feet away. The metallic tang of blood filled the air.

But this time, Gi-hun wasn’t about to let anyone lay a finger on you. He remembered the vow you both had made:

"We belong to each other. And I will get you home."

With those words etched into his resolve, Gi-hun made his move. Chaos erupted as the gun exchanged hands, bullets flying. The air was filled with deafening roars of defiance and the sickening splatter of blood.

In the end, In-ho stood back, his heart cold and unyielding, as he watched Gi-hun fall. The final shot rang out, and his lifeless body crumpled to the ground. Blood speckled your cheek, and you stared in stunned silence at the empty shell of a man you had once loved.

From the shadows, a familiar voice cut through the carnage, low and mocking.

“Welcome back home, love.”

You turned toward the source, and there he was Gi-hun—his gruesome smile sending chills down your spine.

[butdaddyilovehim99]

he is a soft baby boy 😌

but also dumb himbo who will come in swinging 😮‍💨

Benny causing audible gasps

[regensia]

@sovereignxfae / Kio said . . .

I have plans that I cannot share because kio will try to sabotage me— (kio is more of a dog person, but he thinks cats are cute + HI NIKI 👋)

Who... is this twink?

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (Break up with your bastard boyfriend, Simon comforts you)

Ending a 5-year relationship isn’t easy, but the fact that your boyfriend was actually cheating on you for a year already makes you question your life. You’ve noticed the coolness between you and him, every time you called him in the evening always ended up with dial tones. You started blaming yourself, careful not to be too pushy as you attempted to fix the relationship. But you know all your efforts were useless when

your friend send you a video, asking if the man kissing and walking another woman into a motel was your boyfriend. Hell, it really was your boyfriend, or soon-to-be ex more accurately.

You text Simon after you sorted your things with your now ex boyfriend, with a brief explanation of your situation and ask if you can go visit him—your old friend. Then half an hour later, you see him waiting outside of his house already, nod at you when you approach him.

He brings you into his house with a hand on the small of your back, usher you to sit on the couch then seated himself next to you. His presence is soothing as always, though he’s still mostly expressionless and quiet, his cold facade melts when he’s with you, and you finally let yourself cry, tears rolling down your cheeks as you blabber about what your ex said about you, those venomous words spitting out and taunted you for being so plain and boring, too docile and without any excitement, so he had to find another girl.

Simon’s furious, holding himself back not to go out right now and land punches on your ex, because staying by your side and comfort you is more important. The man’s is more of action than words, and he knows just the best way to show you what you truly deserve

You can’t remember clearly when he pulled you on his lap and his lips meet yours, guiding you into a slow and affectionate kiss. When he pulls down your trousers, he tells you how much he loves your ‘plain cotton panties’ that your ex despised, how it allows him to see the arousal pooling and wetting a dark spot on the cerulean fabric.

He reassures you in low mutters when he slide a finger into your entrance, slowly adding another and preparing you patiently, which your ex always reluctantly do for a short while then shove his dick in and cause you pain.

“Cute little pussy’s so tight, so perfect, of course she needs more attention, love.” He kisses your tears away as he skillfully fingers you open till you can take his cock without feeling uncomfortable.

He chuckles when your eyes widened in disbelief at the sheer size of his cock, long and girthy with a small curve upwards, “Ready, sweetheart?” He makes sure you’re alright before sinking you down onto his shaft, an obscenely sexy groan from him makes you clench down on him in desire.

“Fuck, relax, princess, you’ll make me lose it too early if you keep doing that…” He grunts out and rubs little circles on your thighs to help you adjust. god, you feel so warm and tight, look so pretty when he finally have you sit on his lap after imagining for years, meeting his eyes shyly with the rosy pink decorating your cheeks, lips a bit swollen from how eager he devoured them earlier.

His pace is slow at first, fat cock dragging out until the tip circled by your entrance before pushing it in again. But soon pick up his pace when you plead at him so sweetly. “Simon, more, more…” You moan out beside his ear, and he’s here to provide, to prove you this is what you deserve—having a nice cock brings you to your release one after another, thighs trembling and clit twitching at how good he fuck you, how that slight curve of his thick and lengthy cock reach that right spot deep inside you and makes you cry out his name, responded with his kiss and another firm thrust inside you until your walls spasm around him, slick folds red and used the time he come inside you with a growl.

“You good?” He’s still panting slightly when he pulls you tightly against his chest, your eyes droopy and lips curl up in a content smile.

“Yeah, thank you, Simon…” his cum dripping out of your cunt when you fall asleep in his arms, still seated on his lap as the tiredness overtakes you.

Simon look down at you, fitting snuggly in his embrace, leaving no gaps between your bodies as if you’re made for each other. He watches your chest rises and fall steadily, face free of the frowns he saw on you in the past years.

Pressing another kiss to your forehead, he picks up his phone and text Soap about your ex’s informations, he’ll make him pay for causing you distress, that’s for sure.

As his eyes shift back to your face, he relishes the truth, having you worry-free and sleeping in his arms, holding onto him even in sleep, seeking for his presence subconsciously.

And the best part is, you’re all his now.

[hypewinter]

Under ordinary circumstances, Danny wouldn't have resorted to throwing punches first ask questions later. But he was on the run and he was tired so when the hero sneaks up on him, he swings. Now he is on the run, tired, and has a concussed hero to take care of.

[kazrz]

TEN YEARS TOO LATE ⛥ sirius black

ten years ago, bellatrix lestrange’s child was thrown onto your doorstep without warning. ten years later, you’re not sure if you’re living the life you’d wanted — but you do know that mattheo is your son, and no one else’s. [1.6k words]

TAGS: sirius is harry’s godfather, reader is a single mum to mattheo riddle, hurt/no comfort, angst, lovers to strangers/borderline enemies ngl, voldemort died after the first war, reader and sirius are both meanies

🐦‍⬛ — everyone say hi to my baby mattheo! I wrote this fic smiling and all but best believe I’ll never have a child in the future. too much work.

p.s. this fic is inspired by ‘he looks like his father’ by @/marauder-misprint! that fic changed lives and one of them was mine.

“He’s not your kid.”

You’ve endured many offensive questions about Mattheo’s parentage ever since you took him in. They sent you spiralling downward into the deepest depths of your mind, wondering why everyone needed to have their noses in your business. They made you second guess your parenting skills, doubting how you raised Mattheo and whether he truly is the boy you nurtured him to be.

While you weren’t normally so tongue-tied in these situations, it didn’t help that your old, repulsive Hogwarts fling was standing right before you — closer than he’d ever been in more than a decade — confidently claiming that your son wasn’t yours.

It was a huge, fucking relief that the kid had inherited his biological mother’s shamelessness.

Mattheo pushed past only a few irritated students and parents on his way to you. Sirius’ words were as clear as day to him. They ignited a flame that wasn’t known for its swift ceasing.

“Who are you to be the judge of that?” he gritted out, fingers clinging onto yours by habit. You smiled down at him, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “Last I remembered Mum telling me, you ditched her after graduation and never reached out. You have no right to even be speaking to her.”

Your son’s words sizzled a hole into your heart. You hadn’t expected him to remember the measly details about a man who was irrelevant in his life. The last time you’d mentioned Sirius, Mattheo was merely five. He’d asked, “Mama, why don’t I have a dad?”

How could you not answer him?

Eighteen years ago, you would have laughed if someone said you’d be a single mother. Sixteen years ago, you would have laughed, along with Sirius, at the prospect of being parents.

Ten years ago, you held in your distaste for children and took in a three-year-old.

And you wouldn’t let the man who’d left your heart in pieces disregard the hard work you’d put in.

Sirius’ dry laugh left you clenching your teeth, hands itching to curl into fists and punch him square in the face. “Stay out of this, kid,” he snapped, not even bothering to glance at Mattheo.

You sent him a right hook straight to his chiseled jaw, hearing a soft crack sound at the impact.

Silence fell over the courtyard like a thick, suffocating blanket, but not before gasps echoed from every corner of the open space. Sirius held trembling fingers to his left jawbone, lips parted in absolute bewilderment. He stared off into the empty space beside Mattheo.

A few rustles sounded as someone shoved past students clad in their black robes. Harry froze, halting just before he ended up in the middle of the ongoing catfight.

A dazed Remus materialised from behind him, eyes widened as he took in the scene.

“YN,” the lanky man rasped, eyes flitting between you and his best mate. Sirius still had his hand pressed to the side of his insolent-looking face, but now he was glaring you down, brows virtually stitched together. “YN, you’re here.”

Mattheo tugged on your arm and you stepped back, the greater distance between you and your ex clearing the haze from your mind. You tried not to roll your eyes at Remus’ quite apparent observation.

“Yes, I am, Lupin.” The edge in your voice gave way to pure rancour, eyes hardening when Sirius righted himself with a groan. You had half the heart not to utter the next few words. “You’re not the only one with a child.”

By now, the prying eyes of passers-by had redirected somewhere else, no longer interested in your dispute with two of the Marauders.

Remus’ gaze lingered on Mattheo — his dark curls, his defined brows, his nose, the scar that marred his cheek intimidatingly. He looked close to nothing like you, save for his body language, graceful yet sharp, and his clothing choices, casual yet sophisticated.

Even if the kid wasn’t your blood, it was painfully blatant that he was raised by you.

The professor swallowed the lump in his throat. “Riddle’s yours?” The question was stupid, but he was too dumbfounded to think of another one.

Sirius groaned, running a hand down his face. You relished in seeing him wince at the pain that struck his jaw. Mattheo, on the other hand, seemed more than ready to rip him apart.

“You might wanna stop there, Moony, or she’ll have you puking out your guts,” Sirius sneered, the unfamiliar sound sending a tremble down Harry’s spine. His godfather had never been so agitated before. It might’ve just been your presence that irked him, given the woeful tone Sirius would adopt whenever he shared stories about your relationship back then.

You couldn’t help the scoff that left your lips. “You wouldn’t know what it’s like to have someone claim your son isn’t really yours, would you? Because Harry isn’t your son. He’s your dead best friend’s son.”

A brief flicker of hurt crossed Sirius’ grey eyes. It tugged at your heartstrings, but you shoved the feeling aside. You had no compassion for him. He’d shattered you — how could you possibly go back to him?

Mattheo turned to you with a plea in his eyes. While he normally would contribute with some snarky comments of his own, he didn’t want you getting into a brawl. Especially when this was the topic at hand.

“Mum,” he tried, voice firm but holding a semblance of vulnerability he’d only ever show around you. “Don’t do this. He’s not worth it.”

At that, Sirius whipped out his wand and jabbed at your chest with the tip. Mattheo almost broke the man’s ribs, but you pushed him aside before he could get caught in the altercation.

The former Gryffindor looked nearly like a rabid dog with the way he snarled and growled, wand tip digging painfully into your collarbone.

“Not worth it? That’s what I was to you? What you told your son I was?” His voice sank deeper than the depths of the ocean. Harry didn’t recognise the man who looked like his godfather.

You gripped his wand tight, nearly snapping it in two if Sirius hadn’t yanked it away harshly. “The moment you abandoned me on my own doorstep, you became a stranger!” you raged, keeping your volume in check before another crowd formed. “When you didn’t call, or even send a bloody letter, I gave up waiting on you. What could I do? Cry all night because you weren’t there to hug me? Trudge around my house blindfolded because everything reminded me of you? I knew better than that. I moved away, and you weren’t there to stop me. So why are you here now, claiming my kid isn’t mine and acting offended that he thinks you’re of no worth to me?”

Mattheo held his breath when you spat the words you’d been holding in for years. He knew you were tenacious and resolute in all your glory, but he’d never witnessed you so livid. He had little to no knowledge of how Sirius had left you so wounded and exposed, though now, your words began assembling the puzzle pieces he’d collected over the years.

He noticed whenever you stopped for a moment, looking longingly at an object that meant nothing to him, but a lot more to you. You would sometimes, subconsciously, style his hair differently when it grew too long. Right now, as he glanced between you and Sirius with his waves, he realised why.

“Seriously, Sirius?” He heard the crack in your voice when your ex didn’t respond. Out of guilt or fury, he didn’t know. “You made your decision, and I have made mine.”

You shoved the dark-haired man off of you, causing him to stumble backwards and lose his footing. Remus darted forwards, barely managing to catch Sirius in his arms, sparing him from the unforgiving impact of the ground. Hushed whispers were exchanged as the latter righted himself, sending you a glare while holding his injured jaw.

It was only after a quiet, indignant huff that you turned to your son and placed benign hands on his shoulders.

Leaning down slightly, you brushed a stray hair away from Mattheo’s forehead, smiling as tenderly as you could. “Are you ready to leave, Theo?” you murmured sweetly, a stark contrast to your previous bite. The sudden shift in tone induced whiplash.

Mattheo flashed a charming grin that reminded Remus of your own. Whatever Sirius had said about the Slytherin boy not being your son was possibly the most erroneous statement ever uttered.

You mirrored his expression, though yours was gentler and didn’t reach your eyes. Your son’s enthusiasm flickered for a moment, but when you stood to your full height and led him away, Mattheo began cheerfully rambling about the recent happenings at Hogwarts and his own escapades.

Sirius couldn’t believe that he’d just seen you for the first time in more than a decade. He especially couldn’t fathom the fact that it had gone terribly.

He shouldn’t have said Mattheo wasn’t your kid. That isn’t something you say to your ex you’ve been thinking about for sixteen years after you ditched her. Now that he’d put it that way, he realised how horribly he had acted towards you and your son.

Your son. It was a foreign term to him, principally when it came to you. The you he’d known in Hogwarts had an unyielding repugnance for children. But, he figured, you were really only averse to the toddlers who didn’t listen. You must have raised Mattheo well.

“That was awful,” Harry quipped, raising an eyebrow at his godfather. Sirius groaned, dragging a hand down his face and wincing when his jaw decided it was too much.

He sighed, brows stitched together. “I know.” But what did it matter?

Remus patted him on the back. “If you’re lucky, you might see her again,” he reassured his friend, though skepticism snuck between his words.

“If she even wants to see me again.”

Harry had a feeling that you didn’t.

navigation ⛥ sirius black