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spideyjimin · 22 days ago

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Bloodlines entwined: I | jjk

⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child.

— pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader

— genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut

— rating: 18+

— words: 7,213

— warnings: strong language, mention of death, mention of murder, mention of loneliness, mention of blood, several mentions of abortion, and crying

— author’s note: here it is the first chapter of this series! <3 i’m actually very excited about this entire universe, i’ve been working on it for a little while already & i’ve been taking my time to write each part 🤗 the beginning is inspired by Jane the Virgin and the Flash as they are both my favorite shows ✨ i hope you’ll enjoy this part & don’t hesitate to let me know what you think 😊

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Chapter I: when worlds collide

SERIES MASTERLIST | next

Sitting in your car, you’ve been looking blinkingly at the windshield, hands trembling against the steering wheel. For ten whole minutes, you’ve been frozen like this as if moving would shatter the fragile sense of calm you’ve barely managed to hold together.

Your life is about to drastically change; you know it deep down.

“The deed is done,” you whisper to yourself.

You let out a shaky breath, and your reflection in the rearview mirror catches your eye. You look exhausted, your eyes wide and glistening.

For two years, this moment has been building. You have thoughtfully considered having a child on your own. At first, it was just a random thought that crossed your mind, a curiosity born on one of those quiet, lonely moments where life felt both too much and not enough. Then, you deeply thought about it. The idea rooted itself deep within you, anchoring into something raw and tender: a longing to create a family on your own terms.

After much research and consideration, you decided to go for it.

Many people couldn’t understand your choice, but honestly, you don’t give two shits about others’ opinions. What did matter to you was the support of close family and friends.

Felix, the man who raised you after your parents were stolen from you, proposed to accompany you to the fertility clinic, but you gently declined his offer. This was something you wanted to do by yourself. Well, you just came alone to be inseminated. Other than that, he has been by your side every step of the way.

He helped you to go through the countless donor profiles, and every document needed for this adventure of yours.

The process was a bit long and emotionally draining. The first steps were more like an evaluation, mostly for the clinic to understand your reasons and ensure you’ve deeply thought about all the aspects. Having a kid alone isn’t just about fulfilling your dreams but also about building a life for a child.

Once you’ve successfully completed those steps, you had to choose the donor. There were a lot of choices; it was like going grocery shopping. You were handed a catalog of potential donors with their medical histories and first names. It felt odd to be choosing the progenitor like this. After going through every profile, one of them stood out.

Following the donor selection, your cycles and hormone levels were tracked. When all was good, you’d get inseminated on your ovulation period, which technically is happening this week.

So, ten minutes ago, you walked out of the clinic after being artificially knocked up.

If your egg is fertilized, in nine months, you’ll welcome your very much desired baby. A tiny human who will call you mom. You already picked the names, one for a girl, one for a boy. You simply can’t wait to welcome a tiny human in your life. Hopefully, the life of your baby will be better than yours.

You lean your head against the steering wheel, closing your eyes as the ghosts of your past surface.

Twenty years ago, your life was turned upside down when a terrible murderer put an end to your parents’ lives. Nobody ever found him or her; it’s like the person completely vanished into the night. That person left behind a little girl with questions nobody could ever answer and scars nobody could understand.

Since you didn’t have any family left, you were raised by your father’s best friend, Felix. Over time, he became like a second father to you. Even though you were full of anger when he took you over, he stayed by your side and helped you navigate this sad reality; one where your parents weren’t part of anymore.

His daughter, Lexi is your age. You were already so close, and living under the same roof brought you even closer. She’s your super best friend, almost like a sister today. A smile grows on your face as you think of her. Your life would have been a nightmare without her.

Lexi was the first person to be aware of this desire to become a single mother. She even pushed you to do it as soon as you could, and she has encouraged you like nobody else. She also helped you select a donor; she even made fun of the names of some of them.

Your phone buzzes; the name and picture of Lexi appearing on the screen.

“Hi,” you say when you pick up.

“Soo,” she says. “How did it go?”

“Good, I guess?” you say with clear hesitation. “The doctor just inserted a thin catheter, looked at the screen, and said it was done,” you explain. “Now we just have to wait.”

Waiting is now the worst part, especially since you decided not to take any pregnancy test until the next appointment. Meaning, you have to wait two full weeks.

“Let’s hope the donor’s little swimmers are good ones,” she says.

While you always wanted to have a kid, Lexi never wanted one. You and her are total opposites but that’s what helped create such a strong bond between you. “Yeah, let’s hope for that,” you smile.

Two weeks later

A couple of days ago, you took a blood test, and now, you’re in the waiting room, patiently waiting for the doctor to call you up.

These past two weeks, you’ve been internally battling to take a pregnancy test. It’s been hard to fight the urge to discover beforehand if you’re expecting or not. On your way to the clinic, your heart was beating extremely fast with nervousness. Even the music playing in the car didn’t seem to calm you down.

Even though you’re extremely nervous, a part of you knows. You can’t explain it, but you feel it deep down. Two nights ago, you were lying in bed completely exhausted after an intense day at work. The rhythm of your heartbeat was rocking you to sleep. Amidst the thrum of your own heart, you swear you could hear a faint, smaller, and quicker rhythm.

You instantly opened your eyes, scanning the room. The sound wasn’t coming from outside. It felt like it was inside you. You stayed perfectly still, listening to that tiny sound. That night, you were rocked to sleep by that new rhythm.

The morning after, as you caught your reflection in the bathroom’s mirror, something felt off. Your brows furrowed as you noticed your own scent was different. It felt like it was mixed with somebody else’s scent, but it wasn’t as strong as yours or any other living human. It was extremely odd.

After a little while, the doctor says your name, and with shaky legs, you walk to her office. Your heart is beating at a very crazy pace, ready to burst at any moment. This is so stressful; it feels like time is moving so slowly.

“Hello yn,” the doctor smiles at you while you’re entering the room. “How have you been feeling?” you now take a seat.

“I’m good, thanks,” you smile back at her.

She sits down at her desk and takes a look at her computer.

“So, did you take any pregnancy test?” she asks.

“No, no,” you answer. “I wanted to keep the surprise for today.”

“I see,” she looks again at her screen before taping on her keyboard.

She seems to quickly read something before her smile widens. Your heart is going completely crazy. It really makes you nervous, and you try to mentally prepare yourself to receive the bad news as well. It’ll definitely break your heart but you’ll try again.

This entire process is quite expensive, but the payment can be spread out over time rather than made in one shot. With this first payment, you have the right to three attempts. If pregnancy isn’t achieved after those attempts, you’ll have to go through another round and pay for additional attempts.

The doctor mentioned that usually, it takes about three to six attempts to achieve a successful pregnancy. Hopefully, you’ll get pregnant within those first three tries. You’re not entirely sure you’ll be able to afford another round of insemination.

“Well, it looks like it only took you one try to conceive,” she informs you.

And right there, your heart bursts with joy. There’s indeed a little human being growing inside you. You’ll become a mother in nine months. You can’t believe it.

A little tear runs down your face as you hear the good news. It’s such a relief. You won't have to worry about coming back for another round.

“That’s good news,” you clean the tear on your cheek.

“It is indeed,” she says. “In four weeks more or less, we’ll plan an ultrasound to confirm the embryo’s implantation and check for a heartbeat,” she adds.

Well, you’ll still get worried about that because maybe until there, your baby will not survive. But you need to remain positive. No need to start stressing about it; you promised yourself that you’ll try to remain calm the entirety of the process and pregnancy so you’ll offer a great beginning of life to your baby.

“I’m very hopeful everything will go well because both you and the donor are in good health,” she says.

“Let’s hope for that,” you answer.

You then proceed to schedule the next appointment in four weeks. You can’t hide the immense smile on your face. This is the best news you got today. Nothing else will ever be possible to ruin this day.

When you leave the clinic, you instantly call Lexi.

“I AM PREGNANT!” you scream with excitement.

“Yeeeah,” she screams as well. “I’m going to be an aunty!” she adds.

“I’m so relieved that this first attempt was successful,” you admit.

Once you get inside your car, you touch your belly to caress it.

“That baby is so lucky to have you as a mother,” she says after. “And even more lucky to join our family.”

For sure, your family will extremely love this baby. It’s such a desired baby, and everybody has been so excited.

“They’ll be so loved,” you reply.

“There’s absolutely no doubt,” she says. “Dad will be so happy about this news; he’s been so excited to become a grandpa.”

Felix has expressed lately that he couldn’t wait to welcome a baby and become a granddad. This man has raised you for twenty years, and you consider him as a second father. There’s no doubt that your baby will see him as their grandfather even if, biologically speaking, he isn’t.

When you hang up, you stare into the void for a couple of minutes. In this moment, you wish your parents would be here. They would have been so happy to become grandparents, but they won’t be by your side for this new chapter of your life.

They are also the reason why you’re doing all of this. Since they passed, there’s been a tremendous emptiness inside you that even the love of Felix couldn’t fill in. This void stems mostly from the fact that you were left alone when they were killed. You’ve been feeling so lonely since then.

Throughout your life, you tried to fill it with relationships but they all failed. As far as you can remember, you wanted to follow the traditional path to build a family. However, it never worked out. Then, one day, you saw a brochure about single mothers, and you’ve been thinking about it since then.

You’ve seen motherhood as a role that will fill this emotional void you’ve been carrying for years. Plus, you’ve also seen it as a way to finally control your life. Twenty years ago, someone decided for you what your life would become. This wasn’t fair.

And you also want to give your baby the life you never got. You want to give them a loving family that won’t disappear the second the parents die. Outside of your parents, you didn’t have a family. Based on what Felix told you, your grandparents were against your parents' relationship so they moved into another city to live freely and build a family.

Life hasn’t been fair for you, but you want to make it fair for your baby.

Two weeks later

The clinic called you this morning to urgently come in the afternoon, only making you grow concerned during the day. You kept wondering what the reason for such urgency would be. Did they notice something when they did the blood test? Did they get the wrong blood test? Are you even really pregnant?

However, you’re a hundred percent sure you’re carrying a life inside you. You haven’t had the ‘normal’ early symptoms yet, but you can feel your baby inside you. The faint heartbeat can still be heard, and there’s still that subtle scent interwoven with yours.

For the past two weeks, you’ve repeatedly inhaled this new scent, almost to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. Most of the time, you wondered if it wasn’t something like blood, sweat, or the smell of your new shampoo. It was definitely an earthly one. One that only a human can possess.

Once inside the clinic, you’re instantly installed in the doctor’s room. Your heart is crazily beating inside your chest; you’re so nervous right now. Seconds later, a man joins you in the room.

At first glance, you’d think he is the CEO of a huge company. He’s fully dressed in a black suit with a white shirt underneath, his hands casually placed in his pants pockets. This man is extremely charismatic; something about him draws you in.

The man looks at you while frowning, his eyes moving from your eyes to your belly. By reflex, you cover your stomach with your hands. He’s making you uncomfortable with his intense stare.

He has a very strong bestial scent, it predominates his cologne. Everything about him is imposing, even the way his heart beats; it’s so calm while yours is completely erratic. The man’s eyes are clued on you.

The doctor arrives right after and closes the door behind her. Her face is quite serious; she even seems concerned.

“Miss y/l/n,” she takes a seat at her desk. “Mister Jeon,” she looks at the man behind you. “Please take a seat.”

The two of you sit down next to each other with apprehension. You can hear his heart beating a little faster, but he remains extremely calm on the outside.

“There’s been a mistake,” she starts saying.

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. The doctor pauses, giving you time to absorb the gravity of the statement. Her tone is gentle, but at the same time professional.

The sterile, cold walls of the room seem to close in around you as the doctor’s words pierce through your thoughts.

“There was a mix-up with the sample…” your breath is caught in your throat, your hands trembling. “We were supposed to inseminate you with the donor sample you selected. We still don’t know how but you got inseminated with Mister Jeon’s sample.”

Your eyes look at the man sitting next to you. All you can see in his eyes is the same disbelief that reflects your own. So, this is your child’s father.

Many questions cross your mind, but they remain unspoken, lodged in your throat.

“We truly apologize for our mistake,” she says. “We were totally aware you both wanted to have a child alone.”

You desired nothing more than being alone in this adventure; you didn’t want a present father. That was the whole point of a donor. Now, you know the father of your child, and he’d probably like to be present.

For the past months, you went through a series of questions regarding the fact that you’ll raise your child alone. They asked you many times how you’d explain to your child that they don’t have a father. This now feels like a complete waste of time.

“We understand the nature of this situation. We will refund the totality of the treatment’s costs. We can also terminate the pregnancy if you both wish.”

Those words seem so heavy and yet, they represent the reality of the choice you now have to face. A knot tightens in your stomach at the thought of undoing something you wished for so long. The baby is now growing inside of you, you’ve got used to falling asleep with their tiny heartbeat. The only thought of not having it anymore breaks your heart beyond comprehension.

Right now, everything—your carefully constructed plans, your hopes, the small life growing inside you—seems to be slipping through your fingers.

Mister Jeon is silent beside you, his hands clenched into fists on his knees. He seems as stunned as you, but you can’t help but think that there’s something else there too. Something deeper and darker.

You ignore if he’s thinking the same thing as you, but you can feel it: the strange twist of fate pulling you both into an unknown world, one you both hadn’t planned for.

“You still have some time to decide, of course,” the doctor’s voice is still very soft.

Time seems irrelevant now. There’s a choice you need to make; a choice you didn’t expect to face. You swallow hard, your heart racing inside your chest. Your hands caress your belly through your shirt while you only hear the baby’s fragile heartbeat.

This isn’t supposed to happen. This can’t be real.

Jungkook’s face went pale as the doctor’s words sank in.

“There’s been a mistake,” she starts saying.

Just like you, the room’s white walls feel suffocating, the air thick with a tension he can’t shake. A mistake. His mistake. He tried to avoid this situation. He was supposed to go through surrogacy to guarantee a child that would uphold his lineage. His werewolf lineage, pure and untouched by human blood.

“There was a mix-up with the sample…” the doctor’s words hang up in the air like a death sentence. “We were supposed to inseminate you with the donor sample you selected. We still don’t know how but you got inseminated with Mister Jeon’s sample.”

His eyes quickly look at you, and he notices how much you’re shaking. It seems like you’re in a more devasted state than he is.

“We truly apologize for our mistake,” she says. “We were totally aware you both wanted to have a child alone.”

Jungkook blinks, trying to absorb what is happening. A human child. Nonetheless, his child. Having children with humans isn’t just a personal choice; it’s a fundamental rule of the werewolf society. The very foundation of his power as the king depends on the purity of his bloodline. To break the rule is to risk everything.

He knows better than anyone what happens to the werewolf-human hybrid kids together with the parents. They are killed by the pack. Being a king doesn’t make him the exception to the rule. If this pregnancy goes to full term, not only will he be killed, but the baby and the lady sitting next to him will too.

You didn’t ask for any of this. You don’t deserve to die because of a mistake.

His gaze filled with frustration and panic moves toward you once more as his pulse quickens. He wanted control over the situation. He never intended to father a hybrid child. And now, not only is he involved in this pregnancy, but the child is going to carry his blood mixed with human genetics. God only knows what can happen to this kid, genetically speaking.

“We understand the nature of this situation. We will refund the totality of the treatment costs. We can also terminate the pregnancy if you both wish.”

‘This can’t be happening’, he thinks.

His eyes move back to the doctors, his hands clenched into fists. The thought of the entire werewolf community learning of this is unbearable. And what is his mother going to think of this?

She was the first person to support him in this surrogacy journey. She knew how important it was for him to have a child as soon as possible because he’d been struggling to find someone with whom he’d mate. Having an heir is the first thing a king should do to ensure the legacy.

Now, he’s about to have a child with a human. That’s not possible. This child won’t have a pure bloodline, this child can’t ever be an heir.

“You still have some time to decide, of course,” the doctor’s voice is still very soft.

The idea of termination seems dreadful, but the possibility of a hybrid child heir seems even worse. His responsibility as king, and the traditions that have been in place for centuries don’t allow for such breach. To raise a kid with human blood would mean instant disgrace, not only for him but for his entire family. How could he even be respected after this?

His entire world is slipping through his fingers. His position as king is now in jeopardy. This baby will destabilize the entire werewolf community. Nobody will respect him and will only see him as weak. Weak for having a human child.

There’s no going back. His mind tries to find a solution to fix this, or how to undo this. The idea of raising a child with a human—no matter how much it is his responsibility—is unthinkable. He never desired this and hasn’t even considered it. He has been so focused on maintaining his bloodline that the idea of a mistake happening never crossed his mind.

Your presence beside him destabilizes him beyond comprehension. He can see the confusion in your eyes mixed with disbelief. You can’t comprehend the extension of this entire problem. You can’t even comprehend the danger of mixing bloodlines, because you aren’t a werewolf.

Jungkook stands in silence for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts. Terminating this pregnancy isn’t something he desires, but having a child with a human is simply impossible. His heart beats too crazily, and he can hear yours beating just as fast. His heart and duty are pulling him in two different directions.

Finally, his eyes meet yours. His voice is soft but it carries a heavy weight. “We need to decide. This affects both of us.”

After what felt like an eternity, you both leave the room completely shaken up by the news you just got. How could this be happening?

As you’re both walking in the clinic in the parking lot’s direction, none of you dares to speak. You’re a complete stranger to Jungkook. All he knows is that you’re a human carrying his child.

“I can’t have that child,” he finally breaks the silence.

His words cause you to stop.

“It’s too early for me to consider terminating this pregnancy,” you admit. “I need time.”

Jungkook understands your perspective. It’s not a decision you lightly take, especially if you’ve come to this clinic to have a child. It’d be completely absurd to abort after going through this entire process.

“Of course,” he says. “But I want you to know my point of view.”

You nod, understanding his perspective as well. This is such a horrible situation. Jungkook wanted to have an heir while you simply wanted to have a child on your own. On top of that, he doesn’t look like the donor you selected.

“So if I decide to keep it, would you be out?” you ask.

Jungkook considers your words. There’s a possibility that the baby could still exist, but he wouldn’t be part of their life. He’d still be losing because he wants a child, but at least this way, his position wouldn’t be jeopardized, and no one would get hurt or killed.

“It’s possible,” he honestly answers.

You nod once more. Even though he decides not to be part of his child’s life, he’d still know that he has a kid somewhere. He wouldn’t have any trouble finding you; he already knows your smell, and he has the means to find you.

“Okay,” you say.

Jungkook watches you take a pen and paper from your purse before writing something.

“This is my phone number,” you hand him the piece of paper. “In case you change your mind or take a decision.”

The man takes the piece of paper while you give him a small smile. You start walking away, his eyes following you until you disappear inside a car.

In this situation, he definitely would like to ask his mother for advice, but he can’t. He already knows the answer she’ll give him. ‘This baby can’t exist.’ And she’s right, but he can’t force you to terminate the pregnancy. It’s your body after all.

In the eventuality that you decide to proceed with the pregnancy, he guesses he’ll let you be a mother alone and pretend like this kid doesn’t exist.

You’ve spent the last two days crying in bed. The conversation with the doctor and this mysterious Mister Jeon has been playing over and over in your head. You can still picture everything so clearly; the white walls of the doctor’s room, the apologies from the doctor, and Mister Jeon’s piercing gaze.

‘There’s been a mistake,’ ‘There was a mix-up with the sample,’ the words still echo in your mind.

You’ve been trying to make sense of how such a monumental mistake has happened. But nothing seems to make sense. The clinic did this; the clinic took control over your decision. This chapter of your life was about you gaining control, but once more, someone decided for you. It’s been making you angry.

You’re furious at the clinic and their negligence. You trusted them with your project of building your own family. However, they decided otherwise.

But underneath that anger, there’s another fury; one directed to yourself. You were so focused on having a child on your own terms that you didn’t stop to consider the what-ifs. You didn’t stop to consider that something might go wrong. And now, you are here.

You’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours now, your mind trying to find a solution. Do you keep this baby? Do you terminate the pregnancy?

This choice feels impossible. It feels like no matter what your life will completely change.

But deep down, you somehow feel some kind of relief. Because when Mister Jeon—this intense and charismatic man—said there was a possibility he’d walk away, that he’d leave you to raise this child alone, you felt lighter.

His potential absence is appealing. It aligns with your original choice, to be a single mother. A choice where your child is yours, and yours alone. But then, there’s also a possibility where he stays, or that he comes back later. What would happen then?

You press your hands against your face while a guttural growl leaves your lips. This is so damn frustrating. This should be simple. Because now, you’re left wondering what you want. Do you want to walk away from this and stick to the original plan? Or do you want to embrace this chaos, and see where this might lead?

Your hands slide down to your stomach, caressing it while you hear again the tiny heartbeat. This sound comforts you which makes you close your eyes.

For now, you don’t have any answers to all your questions. You’re not even sure you’ll have them tomorrow. For now, you’ll let yourself breathe. You’ll let yourself feel. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find the answers.

The sound of your phone ringing pushes you out of your own thoughts, informing you that you received a message. You sit on your bed before grabbing the phone on the nightstand. You received a message from an unknown number. By curiosity, you unlock your phone to read it. To your surprise, it’s the famous and mysterious Mister Jeon.

From unknown: hi miss y/l/n, this is jeon jungkook, the father of your child. i’d like to meet you to discuss the matter. would you be free tonight?

Your heart hammers inside your chest, ready to burst at any second. He contacted you sooner than expected. You were thinking that you wouldn’t hear anything from him for at least a week. You thought you’d have more time to make a decision before meeting him. Now, it seems you don’t, and that you’ll have a very interesting conversation with him tonight.

With shaky hands, you start typing your answer.

To unknown: hello mister jeon, we could meet tonight

When you press ‘send’, you stare at the conversation, waiting for an answer. Mister Jeon responds instantly to your message, proposing to meet in a town square. You accept the suggestion and quickly go to your clothes cupboard to pick up an outfit.

The man seems very impressive, and you want to be presentable. He’s after all the progenitor of the life growing inside you.

A couple of hours later, you take the road to the meeting point. Surprisingly, you’ve remained calm for the entire drive. Driving is actually the only thing able to calm your tormented soul. Whenever you go through something very intense, you just drive to clear your mind.

However, since this pregnancy thing, even driving hasn’t been able to help you out. You tried to drive yesterday, but it only made things worse. So it definitely surprises you that you’ve been able to clear your mind before meeting Mister Jeon.

When you arrive, he’s already there waiting for you. He’s not wearing a suit, quite the contrary. His outfit is only made of a grey sweater with a blue pair of jeans. His hair isn’t perfectly pushed back as it was two days ago. It feels like you’re meeting a completely different person.

When he sees you, he stands up. As he does so, you notice he holds a box in his right hand. It’s a small one, but it still intrigues you.

“Good evening, miss y/l/n,” he says.

“Good evening, mister Jeon,” you say back.

His presence is still very imposing, but the fact that he isn’t wearing a suit anymore changes it a bit. He seems more approachable than he was in the clinic.

“Please call me Jungkook,” he offers you a small smile.

It’s the first time you see him smiling, and it feels like a very warm one. Beneath it all and in the midst of the city noise, you can perceive his heartbeat. It’s quite rapid which makes you tilt your head. Is he nervous?

“You can call me yn as well,” you smile back at him.

“I’ve brought you a box with some pastries,” he hands you the box. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

Your smile grows wider at his simple but heartwarming gesture. This wasn’t expected, but it lightens the mood. Jungkook seems to be a nice person which contrasts with the cold and unreadable person he seemed two days ago.

“Thanks,” you say while grabbing the little box. “You didn’t need to,” your eyes look up at him.

After that, you both sit down on the bench he was on before you arrived. By the way he rubs his hands on his tights, you can tell that he’s a bit nervous. You try not to overanalyze him, because you know your mind will go crazy, full of questions.

“What is happening is really crazy,” he admits with obvious nervousness. “I never imagined things would go this way,” you nod.

Jungkook looks everywhere, except at you. It seems like he isn’t brave enough to face you, almost like a teenager confessing his love.

“As I told you two days ago, I can’t have this child,” he finally speaks. “I really would love to, but I’d put the three of us in danger.”

Your heart starts beating rapidly. What does he mean by ‘putting you in danger’? Does he come from a crazy family? Is he part of the mafia? This is scaring the hell out of you.

“We didn’t know each other up until two days ago, and you don’t deserve to be put in danger because of a stupid mistake the clinic did,” he seems angry when he mentions the mistake. “But I can’t force you to terminate the pregnancy, it’s your body, and it was also your wish to have a child. I can’t take that away from you.”

It kind of surprises you how respectful he is. Any other man in his position could have forced or paid you to put an end to this pregnancy. It’s really admirable.

“In case you want to keep going with it, I just want you to know that I’ll step away, and I will never come back to reclaim a role I refused from the beginning.”

You wonder what the reasons behind his decision could be. This man desired to have a child but is now refusing to have one with you because of a mistake.

“To be honest with you, I don’t know what to do,” you admit.

His piercing eyes finally look at you. For a split second, you can swear that they were red. Red like blood. This destabilizes you, and you furrow your eyebrows. You’re not sure if you’re being delirious or if this is real.

“I wanted to become a mother, but not like this,” you continue, still destabilized by what you just saw. “So it leaves me wondering what I should do. But if you walk away, I’ll be more tempted to keep the baby because, in the end, it’ll go as I planned.”

In an unexplainable way, this man puts you at ease. It feels like you can confess how you truly feel about this situation without being judged by him. This man exudes serenity which draws you even more to him.

“I get that,” he says.

For a brief moment, you only look at him while your heart peacefully beats in your chest. His dark eyes stare right into your soul, and it feels like the world completely stopped. There’s just the two of you. But Jungkook breaks the contact, looking in another direction.

“If you decide to keep the child and need any financial help, I can give it to you,” he speaks.

This man definitely seems like a good guy, and you wonder even more why he’s walking away from this.

“I won’t,” you answer. “I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t have any means to take care of the baby.”

For sure you need financial stability to be a single mother, and you would have never embarked on this adventure without having it.

Jungkook runs his fingers through his fluffy hair, avoiding still your gaze. “Can I ask why you want to become a single mom?”

The question catches you off guard. You weren’t expecting this man—this stranger—to be interested in you.

“I didn’t have an easy life and I grew up without my parents,” you confess. “Motherhood was something I aspired to have in my life since I’m very young, and I’ve desired to give to my child everything I didn’t have. No matter if it was with someone or alone.”

Your eyes shift from Jungkook to the square full of people. It’s never easy to express out loud and to a complete stranger why you embarked on this adventure. Mentioning your parents is actually never easy; even after all this time.

Suddenly, you feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you in complete silence. For once in your life, people’s heartbeats and scents don’t suffocate you. You can hear and smell them, but it’s like it doesn’t matter.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve had those developed skills. You can hear stuff from afar, and you can strongly smell people’s natural body’s scent. Since it’s kind of ‘normal’ to you, you got used to it; but sometimes, and especially when you’re in the middle of heavy crowds, it suffocates you. It becomes simply too much.

This is something you never told anyone, too scared to be judged. Undoubtedly, people would say you’ve gone crazy due to the trauma of losing your parents. Not even Felix or Lexi knows about it. They just think you’re agoraphobic.

However, lately, you’ve been trying to go to some crowded place to overcome this suffocating feeling. You ignore why you’ve been doing it, but you’ve been doing it. It’s still too much, but today, next to this complete stranger, it doesn’t feel like it.

“I’m sorry you lost your parents,” he whispers.

You turn to look at him to offer him a little smile.

“Thanks,” you mumble. “Can I also ask you why you’re doing this?” you dare to ask.

Jungkook nods before looking away once more. It definitely looks like it’s hard for him to hold your gaze.

“In my world,” he starts saying. “I have heavy responsibilities, and having a child is one of them. But I can’t have one with anybody. I’m very limited in who is the biological mother so that’s why I can’t have one with you.”

You almost feel offended by his words. In which kind of world can’t you be the mother of his child? It’s completely crazy!

“Oh,” you simply say.

“You could have been the surrogate…” you can hear some kind of chuckle. “But never the progenitor.”

“It’s seems like a tough world.”

His eyes look again at you; you can see that he seems to hesitate with the answer.

“It isn’t,” he finally says. “But it is with me.”

Obviously, he carefully chose his words.

“Well, I hope you’ll find the right mother for your child,” you offer him once more a little smile.

“Thanks,” he smiles back at you.

The two of you look back again at the people walking in the town square. They are walking around you, ignoring totally what you’re going through, what tough decision you have to make. They ignore everything about you, just as you ignore everything about them…

“I’m sorry about all of this,” he adds.

“It’s not your fault,” you answer. “It’s the clinic’s.”

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, his gaze fixed on the people walking in front of you. His heart is racing and piercing through your ears. He’s even more nervous than he was before, and it concerns you a bit. But you don’t say anything, too afraid to scare him off if you reveal you can hear his heartbeat.

“Yn…” he starts. “There’s something you need to know,” his voice is deep and low at the same time. It’s so low that it almost drowns out by the distant chatter of people passing by.

You turn to look at him, your brow furrowing. “Okay,” you whisper.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, his jaw tightening before he exhales. His eyes don’t meet yours immediately, but when he does, there’s an intensity that makes your stomach twist.

“When I said my world is different,” he swallows with difficulty. “I don’t mean it in a metaphorical sense. My world, my reality is not the same as yours.”

You frown even more, confusion plastered all over your face. You’re definitely incredibly confused. How could his world be different than yours? You live on the same planet, and breathe the same air. How could it be not the same?

“What do you mean?”

Jungkook gets closer, his voice dropping even lower, barely audible. However, you still hear it perfectly.

“I am not entirely human, yn.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You stare at him while waiting for him to elaborate. However, Jungkook just stares at you, waiting for your reaction.

“What do you mean by ‘not entirely human’?” you tilt your head.

For a couple of seconds, he doesn’t speak, almost as if he’s scared to reveal his true nature to you.

“I’m a werewolf.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and impossible to ignore. It leaves you wondering if this man is of sound mind. Right now, you’re slightly concerned about his mental health, and the future of your child, if you keep them.

Your first reaction is to laugh, dismissing his words as if it is some kind of twisted joke. But the look on his face tells you that he’s deadly serious. This isn’t a joke.

“A werewolf?” you repeat to make sure you hear it well.

Jungkook nods. He looks tense and he maintains his deep glance on you.

“It’s why I can’t have this child,” he starts to explain. “In my world, bloodlines matter. Werewolf bloodlines are sacred, and the continuation of my lineage isn’t just about having a child. It’s about having the right child with the right kind of mother.”

The weight of his words crashes over you like a tidal wave. You stand up, your hands running through your hair. Your mind is spinning, and your pulse thunders in your ears. This is something you definitely weren’t expecting to hear today.

Werewolves? You’re carrying the child of a werewolf?

This sounds like it comes straight from a fantasy movie.

“This doesn’t feel real,” you whisper to yourself but Jungkook hears it.

“I didn’t want you to be dragged into this world, but you deserve the truth.”

You keep your back turned to him while you cross your arms against your chest.

“This is something you need to consider if you decide to keep the baby.”

At his words, you freeze. Instinctively, your hands down move to your stomach. Jungkook’s eyes follow your hands.

“Is this…” your voice trembles. “Is this a viable child?”

If you want to keep going with this pregnancy, you need to know if this baby can survive.

“There wouldn’t be any reason why this child wouldn’t survive because of mixed blood,” he stands up and gets close to you. “But as they grow up, they’ll develop werewolf abilities. And, one day, they’ll probably turn into one. It’s pretty unpredictable, though. There’s never been a human-werewolf hybrid before.”

Damn, this is leaving you speechless. How can this be real? Werewolves are supposed to exist in movies, not in real life.

“This is insane,” you rub your hands on your face. “This can’t be real.”

Jungkook steps closer. His presence is grounding but nonetheless overwhelming.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” you demand, your voice filled with panic.

Before you can blink, he gets even closer to you. He’s in front of you in an instant, his hand gently grabbing yours. Your eyes look down at his hand as you notice it changing. His fingers elongate, his nails sharpen into claws, and the texture of his skin turns into something more beastly. Slowly, your eyes look up, and what you see completely freezes your body. His eyes glow a deep, predatory red, and there’s something undeniably wolfish about them.

You take a step back while setting your hand free. As you do so, Jungkook shifts back, his hand returns to its normal form, and his eyes fade back to a human form. The transformation is so quick that it almost feels like you imagined it.

“So what happens now?” you ask.

Jungkook’s gaze softens at your words.

“That depends on you, yn.”

Please note that the taglist is closed

#bts #bts fanfic #bts imagine #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bloodlines entwined #bloodlines entwined: chapter 1 #spideyjimin

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sadandyetverysexy · 2 years ago

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Dp x Dc au: Normal is Good

Okay so hear me out— i see lots of “you can’t control Danny he’s a wild child” premises and like, I agree, I love that, but JUST hear me out. Danny who is just entranced by being treated like a NORMAL KID.

I think for best results this should be done with de-aged Danny so he’s a bit younger, but it can def work with regular Danny too.

Danny winds up running around Gotham for one reason or another doing INSANE SHIT to try and help or just survive and his family is out of the way. The explosion, Bad Fentons, etc— and one of the bats picks up Danny. This can be a dad!Jason, or dad!Dick, or classic Bruce Adoption. But they see this little shit running around and are like “no fucking way, not on my watch you little maniac”

Now, a lot of people use the “Jazz practically raised Danny” card, and I love that card and fully support it, but she was also a kid. With no other parents to consult. Who was raised by the Fentons originally and def has no clue what normal parents are like. So she probably didn’t exactly measure up to how a kid is MEANT to be raised. So Danny still had an incredibly strange childhood that just was Not Normal, but I feel like we see Danny with a deep desire to be normal. He doesn’t even really like being a superhero that much, he just wanted to be a kid.

So he gets bat adopted, and Danny is just functioning how he did growing up with the Fentons, which is No Restrictions Do What You Want. And then his bat dad (using Jason for this) is like “No. It’s Bed Time.” And Danny. Danny is ALL for that. He’s bewildered. Mystified. He’s not grumpy about being told what to do at ALL, because he’s just so shocked.

“You’re serious? You’re fucking dead-ass serious? It’s bed time? Oh my god this is so cool. I’ve never had a bed time before! This is great!” Because this is the first time he’s EVER been treated like a normal child by a parental figure. He just got sent to bed. Wow.

Having a parent who is in charge of keeping him healthy and actually enforces Danny taking care of himself is kind of cool.

“Eat your vegetables, they’re good for you.” And they won’t try to eat him back? Fuck yeah, he’ll eat his vegetables!

“No you aren’t allowed to go out at 2 in the morning, go back to bed, you have a doctors appointment for your yearly checkup tomorrow.” oh ancients, Danny has always heard other kids complain about not being allowed out at night, but to have himself told he can’t? This is so weird. And he’s never been to a yearly check up before!

“Brush your teeth before bed” “I can’t get cavities, I’m dead!” “Ya know, for some reason I don’t believe you. When was the last time you went to the dentist? Are you sure you can’t get them?” Danny has 7 cavities.

The first time Danny gets to actually use the “my dad said No” excuse, he is ECSTATIC. Jack and Maddie have LITERALLY never told him he can’t go out somewhere. Ever. He’s in a whole new world where he doesn’t have to fight ghosts, or be a hero, or anything and he loves it. He has a normal kids room without deadly weapons in it and normal kid hobbies and a fridge full of normal food and a parent who enforces a bed time, and it’s weird as hell and it’s great. Normal is pretty damn good, he has no clue what Sam and Tucker were always complaining about. Shits sweet.

#Danny is accidentally the best behaved child in Wayne Manor #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc prompt #danny phantom #danny phantom x dc #fic prompt

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assumptionprime · 5 months ago

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Playing Dark Souls 2 again and damn, in spite of its rough edges, I think it’s my favorite.

They’re all good, mind you. Dark Souls 1 is the foundation, and 3 is playing the hits while also saying that it can’t just play the hits forever and has to end.

And Dark Souls 2 is doing its own weird different thing and I love it.

I think it has the best story of the three games, because it really concerns itself with people.

The intro isn’t a list of people and monsters you need to kill, it’s your story. How you came into this land. You are afflicted with the curse of undeath, and it’s destroying your life and your mind. Everything that follows is based around that. You’re not the Chosen Undead, a title put on you in the first game because of a role you’re expected to play in some legend. You’re the Bearer of the Curse, because that’s your concern in all this, your curse.

You see it afflict others throughout the game, too. Most of the characters in Majula can’t remember how they got here, their goals, their lives before Drangleic are fading, same as yours. Lucatiel is by far my favorite NPC in any Souls game, a tragic view of another cursed undead that doesn’t quite make it. You fight alongside her. She confides in you, forms a bond with you. And then, as the last remnants of her mind, her self, leave her, she begs you to remember her name. Vendrick, the mighty king of Drangleic, is a shell of himself. He shuffles around in his own tomb, having long ago succumbed to the curse. He may as well already be dead. In every way that matters, he is.

And if you don’t figure something out, it’s going to happen to you, too.

Some to do has been made about the world layout not making sense. Some say it’s bad design or development troubles leading to compromises. Others say it’s intentional, that time and space are warped, though I think that’s either not true here or done much better in DS3. I subscribe to a third camp I’ve seen a bit less frequently: These nonsensical ways you move between some of these places are because you forgot how you got from one place to the other.

“So you got to the top of the tower, then what?”

“Oh, then I got on an elevator, which took me up— up to… I was on an elevator… then I was in an old keep sinking into a lake of lava.”

You’re losing your mind and your memory, you just can’t remember what happened between Earthen Peak and Old Iron Keep.

So you go slay the old ones, find Vendrick, seek out the ancient dragon, defeat Nashandra and—

It doesn’t work. You don’t cure the curse. You can either take the throne, or keep looking for a cure. We don’t see what kind of monarch you are to your ruined kingdom if you stay. And we don’t see you find a cure to the curse if you leave.

You lose.

It’s left to you to decide, does continuing to fight this fate have meaning? Is the struggle, in and of itself, worthwhile?

Dark Souls 2 is about going Hollow, and I love that it goes in such a different direction with its lore and story to be that.

#dark souls 2 #also yeah I know about the crown you get for doing all the DLCs #I always saw that as a non-canon little bonus

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astraystayyh · 1 year ago

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All for you

skz and the vows they'd write for you.

fluff. gn reader. word count-3.9k. listen to video games by lana del rey if you can!!!

a.n: thank you to @a-cute-french-fry and @dorisnumber1fan for brainstorming some of these with me <3 i made myself very delulu with this so ENJOY. happy 3k!!! i love you all muahhh <3

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 chan ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

Chan's warm hands are in yours, fingers tangled with one another tightly- like the sturdy roots of an ancient tree.

“Baby,” he calls out softly, and you can already feel tears well up in your eyes at the tenderness in his voice. His thumb reaches out instinctively to wipe the lone tear that managed to escape. His right hand remains on your cheek, cradling it gently.

“Seungmin always liked to joke that I was nearly half-fifty-two. Then half fifty-three on my next birthday,” he starts, as a faint giggle escapes your lips. “That's how I counted time too, with the different days I lived… That is until I met you.” He pauses, a shaky breath leaving him and crashing onto you. “Suddenly I was no longer twenty-six. I was one week old since I met you. Three months since I’ve loved you. And then five years since you changed my life. Years no longer marked the passage of my time. It was you who marked the passage of me.”

“I always had this idea in my head, that I was only worth loving easily. If I diluted all my problems, concealed all my flaws and insecurities to please the ones around me, only then was I deserving of love. But you...” His eyes soften, even more so than they were before. “But you loved me, you loved me on my happy days, and on my darkest ones. You loved me, even when I couldn't understand it, even when I couldn't see what was there to care for in me. So, thank you, for showing me that I am worthy of love, simply because I am me. Thank you for choosing to be patient with me. You don't always know what to do to help, nor do I, but you try, and I try, and isn't that what love is, in the end? To take time out of your day to try, for the person you love?” His voice cracks, as sudden tears wash over his rosy cheeks.

“And I love you. I love to love you. And I cannot not love you, not when my heart beats to the melody of your existence. I promise that even when I’m eighty, I’ll always try to love you better, softer, gentler. I'll never stop trying to be worthy of your love, to be worthy of being yours. Only ever yours.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 minho ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

“Angel,” Minho smiles softly, the back of his hand brushing tenderly against your cheek. “I love you, so so much. You know that, right? I probably don't say it as much as I feel it, because I always do. Every second of my existence is spent loving you. Even when I’m not fully awake, and still floating in that hazy space between dreams and consciousness, I can still feel it deep within me that I love you. It is the one thing that ties me back to life itself.”

“And I never... I never imagined that I could adore someone this much. So much that I always think of you, always miss you, even when you're near. Because I feel as if I missed out on years of loving you, back when we didn't know each other. And I- I want to love you, hard enough so it'd feel as if I’ve done it for your entire life.” He's blinking repeatedly, you're surprised he can still read the words scribbled on his paper. You can sense that the tears glistening in his eyes are on the verge of spilling, so you grab his hand and squeeze it gently. 'I'm here', you silently say- he understands.

“Thank you for holding my hand. Now, and every time I’ve needed you. Thank you for being here for me, with me. I... I always thought that people like me were destined to be alone. But- but being with you feels like I’m with myself. There's no need for me to pretend. Thank you for not making me pretend anymore. You are my mirror, you and I are one, and I- I hope...” He brings your hand to his chest, where his heart beats wildly- 'stay with me' it sings to you.

“I hope you can always feel my love for you. Now and when we're too old sitting on the patio of our home, and my hand is still in yours. Because my heart belongs to you, it beats for you and I breathe for you.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 changbin ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

“You're breathtaking,” Changbin whispers in awe, his eyes tracing the contours of your body with each lingering look, like the brush of a skilled artist.

“So are you,” you giggle, but he shakes his head vehemently, drawing nearer to you. “You are the most beautiful human I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I can't believe I’m marrying you,” he chuckles in disbelief, before grabbing your hand and twirling you around, showing you off for all to see.

“Look at who I’m marrying!” he shouts with bursting excitement, as he dips you down, his nose grazing yours gently, a soft touch amidst the loud exclamations around you.

“Still sure you want to marry him?!” Seungmin shouts from his seat and you giggle, wrapping your arm around Changbin’s waist. “I do!”

Your laughter gradually fades, as Changbin clears his throat. His head is tilted to the side, a small, incredulous smile drawn on his lips as he contemplates the loveliness of this moment- of marrying you.

“My baby. My beautiful baby. I think this is the happiest day of my life. But again, every day is a happy one with you. I... I've never known that love could be unconditional, that loving someone would feel as simple as breathing. Until you. Loving you doesn't feel like I’m taking something out of my being, and giving it to you. But rather, I’m nurturing something within me, a blossoming tender emotion that grows within my soul. Loving you...” he steps forward, cradling your cheeks in his warm hands. “Loving you makes me happy, immensely happy. Because you are the sunset that makes people stop in their tracks to admire it. You are the beautiful scenery that gives hope to everyone who witnesses it. And you make me feel alive. More than I’ve ever been before you.”

“And I promise...” he pauses, wide eyes trying their best to embrace each feature drawn on your face. “I promise to love you more today than I did yesterday. I promise to shoulder the pain that slips through the cracks in your heart, the one that you try so hard to conceal from me. I promise to hear your silent cries and to hug you until your soul stops bleeding. I promise to see you, even when you try to hide from me. I promise to hurt if it means you'll feel less pain. And I-” his voice trembles as it washes over your old scars, delicately erasing them from your memory.

“I will love you. When the pain seems too big, I will love you. And when your happiness shines the brightest, I will love you. I am madly, irrevocably, desperately in love with you. My heart is tangled in yours.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 hyunjin ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

“My love,” Hyunjin begins before abruptly stepping forward, pressing his lips onto yours. The kiss is dizzying and sweet, it reminds you of the figs he hand-fed you yesterday- honey dripping down his tongue onto yours. “I’m sorry,” he whispers once he steps back. “I couldn't help myself. You're so pretty,” he admits sheepishly, and you giggle, too in love to ever mind.

“Where was I? Right, hi, my love. Writing these vows was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Not because I didn't know what to say, but there is so much I wish to express, to talk about when it comes to you. How my soul seems to burn for you. How you’re my last love, but also my first, because I don’t think I’ve ever truly loved before you. Not when you are love itself. But I… I found this journal entry, from four years ago. And I want to read it to you.” He clears his throat, a useless attempt to erase the quiver in his voice.

“I used to believe that love was meant to be grandiose. Extravagant gestures and confessions that will seem too magical for any ordinary human. That’s what I craved; a love so big it would overtake my being completely. But... But tonight, you played with my hair as I laid my head on your lap. And we held hands while drinking warm tea on your couch. And it felt enough, more than enough for me to lead a beautiful life. One worth remembering, one worth commemorating. All because it’s with you.

I realize now that I no longer have to search for love all around me, because you hand it to me, so freely, so selflessly. You love me on our extraordinary days and our mundane ones. I never have to second guess it with you. We may be angry, sad, or frustrated, but the love always remains. It's the one emotion that ties us together, that anchors us to one another. My compass. You.

I don't think I ever 'fell' in love with you. Because a fall can never be gentle, it always hurts, even if for a little. And you must always get up afterward, in a minute, in an hour, in a few years. You can't stay down forever. But this, what I feel for you, the emotion that makes my heart beat is tender and soft. It feels like walking inside a home where the light is golden, the windows are wide open, and every past version of me finally finds what it was looking for all along. I want to stay in you for a while. For a long time. For the rest of my life. And I’ll do whatever it takes so you’d let me.

P.S: I am sleeping with a light heart tonight. I hope that, for as long as I’m breathing, you will always too. You deserve it, more than anyone who has ever walked this earth.”

There is a long pause, as Hyunjin’s words hang over the air; they knock the breath out of you but simultaneously fill you with life. You step forward, swiping away his tears gently. He brings your hand to his mouth, soft rosy lips brushing against your knuckles.

“I guess I've been writing my vows since the day I met you,” he smiles softly, delicate love overflowing from him. “Every painting, every journal entry, was to you, by you, for you. Thank you for being my home. Thank you for choosing to love me, every day. Thank you for allowing me to witness the magic that is you. I will forever and always orbit around you.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 han ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

“Have I ever told you that you're my favorite artist, sweetheart?” Han’s voice is gentle, as he begins speaking. It reminds you of the waves lapping at your feet when he proposed to you. “I feel as if, as soon as you stepped into my life, you began to paint it with the most vibrant colors. The ones I’ve been desperately longing for. Because it is hard… to see the world as a rainbow when you've felt in blacks and whites for so long.” Han’s gaze softens as he spots the tears now trailing down your cheeks. “Shh, don't cry, honey. Or I’ll start crying too, and I don't think I can stop then,” he whispers and you nod, a breathy giggle escaping your lips.

“My mind used to be a scary place. But it no longer is, because it's now filled with thoughts of you. I like to imagine that you planted yourself a little garden there, vibrant tulips and roses. And these flowers may wither down. But they will always bloom again, watered by my love for you, and your love for me. And I hope you know that I... I'll always be there for you too. When the thoughts in your head won't quiet down, I’ll talk for as long as it takes to distract you. And when you want to sit in silence, I’ll be near you, holding your hand. And when you want to be alone, I’ll be there, lingering around the door, within your reach. In whichever shape you want me, you'll get me. I am here, I won't ever leave you.”

“And now I’m crying too” Han chuckles softly, and through the shimmering veil of your tears, you cling to his hand to see.

“I really, really don't know what I ever did to deserve you. But I know I’ll try my entire life to be worthy of you. For as long as I’m here then there will always be someone who loves you. Someone who is proud of you; for breathing, for trying, for never giving up. Please never forget that. You are my strength, my peace, my home. You are everything I have ever dreamed of in human form.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 felix ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

The golden rays reflect on Felix’s eyes as he looks down at his paper. A summer wedding- he insisted, his only condition to you. It is ridiculous, you wanted to tell him, to expect it to be any season but summer when he is the sun.

“Hi baby,” he grins, twinkling brown eyes captivating yours. “God, I’m so nervous. I rehearsed this ten times in front of chan. I think he learned it by heart now.” You giggle, as Chan’s laughter travels across the venue. “I’m not usually afraid of speaking in front of people. But you aren't anyone. I guess that's why I’m nervous. You look really beautiful today. This isn't in my papers, I just wanted to tell you. Because you are. You're always beautiful but today you're absolutely breathtaking and I can't believe I’m marrying you. Thank you for saying yes,” he pauses, a breathy chuckle escaping him. “I’m rambling, aren't I?” you nod, a wide grin on your face. You love him.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I... I'm known as the massage fairy, right? I think I might've massaged almost everyone present in this room.” The loud cheers of your friends signal that they agree.

“I used to, I mean, I do it because you get knots in places your hands can't reach, and it feels nice, for someone to ease the ache of your muscles for you. And I always thought that massages were strictly physical. That it just undoes tension in your body, nothing more, nothing less. And I never told you, because it sounded silly in my head. But I knew... I knew I loved you when you massaged my shoulders for the first time. Do you remember, baby?” he asks, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “That was two months into our relationship. Which is fairly early, but time means nothing when it comes to you.”

“My shoulders were sore, and when I told you, you stood behind me instantly. You started to massage my shoulders and I almost cried right there and then. Because your fingers worked delicately, and it felt as if you were kneading your love into my body. You lifted an invisible weight off of me that day, an emotional one. I didn't even know it was there until you touched me. That's how I knew you were different, to me. That your touch wasn't strictly physical, that it reached into depths of my soul, that it soothed aches I’m not even fully aware of,” he pauses, drawing in a deep breath.

“You already know this, but I... I never really learned how to deal with sadness, because it all happens so suddenly with me. One bad thought always brings with it ten others and suddenly I am pulled into a pool of horrible feelings. But your hands keep me afloat until I’m ready to swim by myself again. I think... I think you understand my sadness more than I do. Maybe because you're a part of me, two halves of the same heart.” His voice softens at the last word, as unshed tears glimmer in his eyes.

“I hope, I pray, that my hands massaging your sore shoulders would also reach into your soul and heal its ache. And I know I might not make you feel better, instantly, or in a day, or the following one. But I promise that I won't ever leave, even if the bad times stretch forward. I'll be with you, patiently, just as you do to me. I may not understand myself fully, but I know that my soul was crafted to love you. Every atom in me is yours, and that is enough knowledge for me.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 seungmin ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

You take a step forward, brows knitted in concentration as you carefully readjust Seungmin’s black tie. Your hands then glide to his shoulders, smoothing the fabric of his suit. “Nervous?” You ask, and he responds with a subtle nod, planting a chaste kiss upon your forehead.

“Don’t be. It’s just me.”

“It’s never ‘just you’ to me.” He gently holds your chin, dainty fingers commanding a cascade of butterflies inside you. “Just look at me, okay?” You smile tenderly and he nods, taking a step backward.

Seungmin draws in a deep breath, eyes traveling over the entire room before finally settling on you.

“I’ve always liked math. I liked the security that numbers gave me, the exactitude of this science. Because one plus one equals two, and no change in our world, however grand it may be, could ever alter it. I liked things that I could grasp, that I could wrap my head around fully. Tangible rules and formulas. They were my safety net. Until you came into my life. You were the wildest variable I’ve ever encountered, and being near you made me crave things I’ve never known. You pushed me out of my comfort zone, but I wasn't afraid to fall into the unknown, because I knew you'd be there to catch me. So, you became my risks and paradoxically, my safety net, all in one.” He doesn’t look down at his paper- his kind eyes never leave yours, and you’re suddenly the only two humans existing in this world.

“I remember a Tuesday night, two years ago. You slept over at my house, and we didn't do anything special. We just talked a lot, about everything and nothing, just saying whatever crossed our minds. And then you dozed off on my chest. You looked so... Peaceful in my arms, and I was surprised you weren't woken up by my wild heartbeat. Because I suddenly realized that I wanted a forever with you, right there and then.” You both step forward at the same time, hands reaching out blindly to hold one another.

“I’ve always found it a bit weird to crave something to last for a duration that we humans cannot grasp. Everything we know is ephemeral. Everything has a beginning and an end. So, I never really believed in forever, until you. Forever exists because I can't see myself ever not loving you,” a faint hiccup courses through him, as he looks up at the sky- an earnest attempt to stop his tears from falling. It is useless, because once he looks at you again, emotion overtakes him, rippling from him in waves.

“Even- even when we're both no longer here, and my body can no longer contain my soul. Even if I only roam in space eternally, as a small speck of light, my destination would always be you, because my love for you would be the only thing my soul would remember. The core foundation of my being, the essence of who I am is my love for you, and even if everything around me fades, the love for you will stay.” His forehead presses onto yours, a last whisper, only meant for you- “My eternity is you.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 jeongin ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

Jeongin's lips graze the inside of your wrist, right where your pulse dances in fervor- for him alone. He looks self-assured, as he lets go of your hand to take out a paper from his pocket. But there is a faint blush tainting his cheeks; it travels down his neck when he clears his throat.

“Baby,” he starts, voice hoarse from barely hidden emotion- the notes of it settle inside your heart. “I don't know where we will be many years down the road, or what we will be doing. But I know that there are things that won't change between us. I know that I’ll listen to all your rants about your favorite show, and I’ll buy you ice cream when you're craving it at 3 a.m. I will still buy two bottles of my shampoo because you love to use mine more than yours. And I like it when you carry a part of me with you, even in such a subtle way. I will still give you my jacket, even when you insist you aren't cold, but I can tell, because I know you. I will...” He sucks in a deep breath, as his vision grows blurry from the tears in his waterline.

“I will make you coffee in the morning, exactly how you like it, down to how many ice cubes you use. I will warm up your towel as you shower and I will fold your laundry because I know you hate doing it. And I- I will hold your hand when we cross the road, and in crowded places, and in the lines of every coffeeshop we’ll go to. I will run my fingers down your spine when you're about to sleep, and I will-” Jeongin's tears splatter across the paper, smudging its black ink. His lips are quivering, as the paper shakes in his hands.

“I will kiss your tiny bruises and remind you to breathe on- on days where...” Jeongin crumples the paper in his hand as he finally looks at you. He’s crying, a stream of tears trailing down his cheeks like a floodgate that isn't planning on stopping. “On days where it seems impossible to.” He finishes, the words he's written long forgotten by him. He didn't need to read them when he had you in front of him- the sole holder of his love.

“And I will hug you tight on nights when your sadness feels bigger than what your body can contain. And when words don't seem to make sense in your head, I’ll- I’ll listen to you, I’ll understand you, I’ll learn you. And I will love you. I will love you and I’ve loved you and I love you. And I- I wish there was a word bigger than love to describe how I feel for you. Because four letters never seem enough when it comes to you. But I am yours, body, heart, and soul. Wherever you go I follow. Till the ends of the earth, I'll be there.”

3K notes · View notes

dellalyra · 1 year ago

Note

OMG I WAS JUST HAVING BRAINROT ABOUT GOJO AND Y/N IN THEIR TEEN YEARS AND

imagine that back then they had to participate in a talent show or something and megumi and the rest watch the old video tape they found in the darkest corner of the library on campus.

the tape was in a box with a label reading "the best jujutsu tech students' and its just filled with memories of their teen years.

they decide to watch the talent show one and its just chaotic as hell. mid way through megumi, nobara and yuuji get caught watching it lmao

𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨, 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖, 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣! 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴

A/N: this request. came in last night - and it’s all I’ve done today because it was so perfect it’s all I could think about. ur amazing ily

CW: swearing, weed, suggestive stuff, mdni i stg shoo

“Itadori! Bring these to the garbage!” Nobara shouts.

“Why me?! Why can’t you do it?!” He retorts as Megumi just rolls his eyes at the two of them, he wonders how they turned into siblings so easily.

“Fushiguro! Tell your boyfriend to take this to the garbage. It’s heavy and he should use his freaky wall-breaking strength for something useful!” She shouts back.

“Eh?! Is exorcising cursed and carrying you like a sack of flour not useful?! Or always carrying all your dumb shopping?!” They’ve broken into an all out sibling squabble by now, Megumi just turns away and continues the task of clearing out the storeroom behind the dojo in the school. Pushing boxes of old files and reports out of the way, he finds a box covered in doodles and stickers, taped shut at the top. He goes to inspect the very out of place container and finds words among the doodles of weirdly shaped beings and flowers.

‘The Best Jujutsu Tech Students.’

“Will you two shut up for two minutes, come look at this.” He says over his shoulder to the two, with Nobara releasing Yuuji from the headlock she somehow got him in.

“Ancient treasure! I told you we’d find something cool.” Yuuji shouts, pumping his fist into the air.

“What is this, Pirates of the Caribbean?! We’re clearing out a high school storage room, dumbass.” The girls rolls her eyes.

They inspect the box, trying to figure out the doodles.

“It doesn’t look super old? Open it, Itadori.” Nobara says.

“Will you quit telling me what to do?!” He says, huffing.

While they resumed the bickering, Megumi took a knife he had hidden in the shadows and sliced through the lines of tape holding the box together. The sound alerted the other two who peered into the box alongside him.

“Wait, are they… DVD’s?” Megumi asks.

“Yeah - but they’re homemade ones. Is there a label on them?” His boyfriend says, leaning in to get a closer looks.

The box itself was filled with small DVD cases of many colours - all labelled in a scrawling handwriting the kids felt like they knew.

“There’s a DVD player in the room where I hung out when I was dead.” Yuuji says, and hauls the box up and begins to walk. None of them even needed to discuss whether or not they’d be watching them, like a hive mind - but with maybe two shared brain cells.

They all made their way across campus, to a room in the same building as their Sensei’s office.

Nobara insisted on grabbing snacks from the vending machine en route, and they sat down on the sofa while Yuuji loaded the first date labelled ‘2003, December.” Well, that’s what they think it’s said. The handwriting was such a chicken scratch it almost looked like a doctor’s unintelligible writing.

The screen came to life - sounds buzzing and voices echoing (albeit muffled) as the screen panned from looking at the floor - to the sky, the the floor again. Then - a face came on screen.

A very familiar one - but… a hell of a lot younger.

“Wait… is that -?” Nobara asks.

“Shoko-sensei?!” Yuuji exclaims.

“That’s kinda how she looked when I was a kid. She’s in her uniform, so this must be when she was in school.” Megumi adds.

The camera pulls away from the close up on her face as another figure enters the shot - a man with odd bangs, silky black hair tied up into a bun and piercing dark eyes. He had a lazy smile in his face as he looked into the camera, poking a finger into Shoko’s cheek.

“What the fuck, Suguru?!” She says as she flicks his hand away.

“That’s - that’s Geto Suguru.” Megumi says. Geto had always been a bittersweet topic in their house, only getting worse in the last year and a half since… since he died.

The next action causes a gasp to echo across the room. A smiling face pops up between both figures.

Dark, circular sunglasses perched on a slim, pale nose and a wide, toothy, cheeky smile sat under a mop of shocking white, messy hair.

“Holy shit! That’s -” Yuuji starts.

“Dad.” Megumi whispers, seeing Satoru so young, probably around his age was amazing to him.

“Wow! It’s working! Is it on? Is it filming?” 16 year old Gojo says, voice eerily familiar, but much younger.

The three faces were all staring into the lens of the camera, only visible from the shoulders up. On screen, Shoko looked down and moved her arm and another head popped up from the bottom of the screen, trying to squeeze in.

The head of H/C hair and shiny eyes wiggled their way into the shot between Suguru and Shoko, and under Satoru.

“Did you say it’s on? It on recording right now?” The new figure pokes the camera.

“No fucking way… Fushiguro! That’s -” Nobara says, swirling to look at the taller boy.

“My mom.” He says, eyes fixed on screen. Your face was younger, hair the same as ever, eyes still full of excitement and curiosity and voice slightly higher than it is now. A hand pats the top of your head, a pale one - Satoru.

“Do a dance for the camera, Y/N.” Satoru says, smiling.

And you do a little wiggle in your spot squeezed between everyone as the other three burst out laughing.

The camera cuts off, and the screen changes to a view of the outside - all of them immediately recognising the training field.

In view is Geto and Gojo, sparring at such a ridiculously quick speed it’s barely visible. He could hear giggling behind the screen and recognised the voices of you and Shoko laughing about something that happened in class.

“They’re such show offs.” Your voice says.

“Geto genuinely wants to train, Gojo is just trying to impress you.” Shoko says, voice muffled by something - which he later sees as a lollipop, figuring it out when it gets launched across the field - presumably in retaliation for her comment by you.

“No way, Koko! That’s just dumb, he’s just a show off in general.” Your voice echoes.

“Whatever you say, Y/N.”

The camera cuts off again. The next thing they see is the night sky, and raucous laughter. The camera is being held by Shoko again, and she points it to a view of a rooftop - the flat part of the roof of the dorm building. The camera turns to one Suguru Geto, eyes hazy and smile even more languid than normal. In his hand was a smoking object - which he passed to Shoko.

They were both laughing together about Shoko saying she could see a constellation shaped like a penis, and the hysterical giggles and she rested her head on the boys shoulder told them that the joint in Shoko’s hand was very much affecting them.

There were clambering sounds.

“I can’t reach!” Came your voice, distant and off screen.

“C’mere shortstack, I’ll give you a boost.” The teasing lilt of Gojo’s voice came after.

“Thanks, Jack the Beanstalk.” Your retort sent the two original stars into another round of laughter before you and Gojo enter the frame, both holding a plastic bag of snacks.

Shoko gives you the joint as you sit, and you take a quick puff and pass it back to Suguru. Satoru declines it, saying it makes his eyes feel funny to which you all nod and say ‘makes sense’.

“Did you get me spicy chips?” Suguru asks, combing through the bags.

“Yes. But - you had to tell me you love me to get them.” Satoru says, smirking.

“Gojo Satoru - you are the light of my life, the centre of my world, the reason my heart beats, please, May I have my child you absolute fuckwad.” He says, as Satoru throws his head back laughing and throws a red bag of chips at him before tackling him to the ground demanding a kiss.

You laugh at the scene, turning to Shoko.

“See - that’s how Geto has at least one date every weekend.” You say, opening your chocolate.

“Man-whore.” She responds, sucking on a lollipop.

The screen flashes black. The same view is on the screen, but the atmosphere is much calmer. Suguru lay, head on Shoko’s lap and her deft fingers carding through his hair as he listens to whatever nonsense Gojo is spouting. The camera turns to a view that has Nobara and Yuuji cooing. Satoru is sitting, arm around your back to keep you upright with your head on his shoulder, eyes closed and clearly sleeping.

Suguru’s voice whispers into the camera.

“And these two say they’re not into each other.” Followed by a scoff from Shoko.

Next up is a view of the training field again, with a sight that made the three current first years laugh. Suguru was laying on the grass, and he was bench pressing you - his makeshift weight - as you lay relaxed horizontally reading a book, the casual nature made it clear this was a daily occurrence.

Once his reps are finished, he gently lets you down and you don’t even react, just laying on the grass continuing your book. He stands up and waves to Shoko, who he’s just noticed with her camera and proceeds to take off his shirt and let down his hair.

“Put your damn shirt back on!” Shoko shouts.

“God damn, maybe I should be a curse user.” Nobara utters, whistling and fanning herself.

The camera is next held up by Satoru - who smiles and puts a finger to his lips to symbolise silence, for some reason, like the camera would be unexpectedly loud. He turns the camera and in the backseat of a car is Shoko and you, both asleep and earphones split between you with a bright pink iPod on Shoko’s lap. Her head was resting in the crook of your neck, and you cheek rested on top of your head.

“They really have always been best friends, haven’t they?” Yuuji says. Megumi is reminded of last week, when Nobara and Yuuji fell asleep in the back of Ijichi’s car, in the exact same position.

The camera operator is back to Shoko now, who is filming the most beautiful scenery. Sakura petals are drifting through the air as throngs of people wander around what appears to be a festival. There’s food stalls and trinket stands and everyone around is in their finery.

“Suguru! Show the camera your best pose.” Shoko says, as Suguru appears on screen decked out in a black and grey kimono with his hair in a half up, half down style.

He throws a peace sign at the camera and then takes it so he can film Shoko who’s in a pretty red Yukata pattered with black and white koi. She smiles and then waves as she looks off camera.

“You’re late, Satoru. Where’s Y/N?” She says as Gojo comes on screen.

He’s wearing a dark blue and silver hakama which looks like it cost the same as a house, Suguru wolf whistles and Satoru pretends to fawn over him.

“She was having lunch with her mom, she’s probably going to be here - holy shit.” Satoru says, but cuts himself off halfway as his jaw drops open.

The camera pans messily as Suguru turns to where Satoru is looking.

You’re walking toward them, smile on your face and usually messy hair styled in a beautiful updo, make up making your skin glow in the afternoon sun. You were wearing a light pink, billowy, gauzy hanfu with tiny pale green flowers and leaves around the edges. You did truly look incredibly stunning. You had a little bag in your hand, and the camera flew back to look at Satoru who was gaping at your approaching figure. His usually pale skin flushed with a pink dusting.

His mouth moves, and it seems unconscious when he whispers to himself.

“Beautiful…”

You walk into the frame, smiling brightly and hugging Shoko and then freezing when you see Satoru, eyes widening at the strikingly handsome figure he makes, every inch a fairytale Prince. The pink on your cheek matches your outfit as you stammer out a breathy,

“Hi, Satoru.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He says, mouthing opening and closing as you look at him through fluttering lashes.

There’s a jolt as it seems Suguru holding the camera elbows his best friend and whispers in his ear, just audible to the camera.

“Bro, tell her she looks beautiful, damn it.”

“You… you look um - beautiful, Y/N.” He stammers out, and the three first years watching laugh at how their oh-so-smooth sensei was once such a mess he needed prompting to flirt from his friends.

You flush even deeper.

“Thank you, Satoru. You look really good too. The um… the blue really suits you. The restaurant I had lunch with my mom had Sakura mochi, so I - I got you some.” You say as you shove a small nicely wrapped box at him and Satoru seems to melt. Shoko appears on screen, making a circle with one hand and poking a finger through it repeatedly in a very lewd gesture that has Suguru cackling.

“Wait - they’re not even together yet. They didn’t get together until the end of their second year.” Megumi muses, smirking.

“So they’ve always been this whipped for each other.” Nobara laughs.

The DVD ends there, and Yuuji jumps up to put in the next one, labelled ‘second year’.

The video begins with you sprinting toward Shoko and her catching you in her arms.

“I missed you so much! A whole summer without you, it was torture. How was the medical camp?” You ask her, barely taking a breath between words.

“Did you not miss me, lil’ lady?” Came a smooth voice as one Geto Suguru wraps his arms around you too, and you squeal in excitement. The three standing are then abruptly tackled to the ground as a blur of white and black whizzes toward them.

“Satoru!” Came three scolding voices.

“How the fuck did you do that, you lanky - oh.” Shoko is stopped abruptly as they all stand up and the change in Satoru is clearly visible. Long gone is the beanstalk boy of their first year, all arms and legs at 16 and now at almost 18 - a broad shouldered, 6ft 3, sharper jawline and longer hair Gojo stands before them. You look like you might faint.

The video stops and then resumes looking at a very familiar blackboard, and a much younger Yaga beside it.

In front of the blackboard there’s two students in Jujutsu High uniforms - both in party hats and standing under a banners with ‘Welcome First Years!’ written in big bubble writing on it, the sounds of streamers and party poppers came through the room as the camera was set down on a desk.

Gojo comes on screen and waves his arms as if to show off the two students. One looked incredibly happy, a beaming smile full of excitement and the other looking absolutely miserable, but given how painfully 2005 emo he looked - it wasn’t surprising. Megumi smirked, seeing the blond boy on screen and knowing exactly who it was from photo albums you kept - but he waited to see when the other two would notice.

“Welcome to Yu Haibara! Please - introduce yourself!” Gojo says, pointing a bottle of cola at him like a microphone.

“Hi! I’m Yu! I’m 16 and I like rice and people!” He says, voice full of enthusiasm.

“Thank you! Next up, Gerard Way!” Satoru smiles and point the mock microphone to the other boy.

“Do I have to? This feels unnecessary.” He says, grimacing.

“Yes! You do!”

“Fine. My name is Nanami Kento -”

Megumi didn’t hear the rest of the sentence as a chorus of ‘What the fuck!?’ Echoes from the two beside him.

“Nobara, rewind that - I think I heard it wrong, I thought the emo kid said his name was Nanami, hah!” Yuuji exclaims.

“No need. You heard right.” Megumi smirks.

“No fucking way! That’s Nanamin?!” Yuuji is smiling so wide at the sight of his mentor as a moody teen.

“Yup. I remember his hair like that, he had a lip ring and a nose ring too. Geto Suguru pierced his nose with Shoko’s med kit for him when they drank too much whiskey at my mom’s 18th. There’s a picture of them doing it framed in their room at home.” Megumi scoffs a laugh, the other two in shock at the revelation.

The camera stops again and next time is looking from an upstairs window as voices whisper.

“What is she doing?” Shoko asks.

“It looks like she’s talking?” Geto asks.

“There’s a tiny spike in her cursed energy - wait, I’ll try see if there’s someone around.” He says and the clink of his sunglasses hitting the windowsill breaks the quiet.

On screen, there’s you in a pair of fluffy blue pyjamas and a winter knitted hat as you seem to be kneeling and ushering something small out of a bush. Satoru seems to have gotten distracted and the camera pans to him - who’s just staring out the window with the most dopey, lovestruck smile on his face.

“Satoru.” Suguru says, flicking his ear.

He snarls, but blushes.

“I - I can’t tell but, it kinda seems like? She is trying to talk to something.” He says, as they all crane their necks as you pull something into your arms and stand up, taking off your hat and tucking whatever you found into it and scurrying back inside.

An obnoxious ringtone of crazy frog blasts through the room and Satoru flips open his phone and answers it.

Since it’s you, he puts it on speaker.

“Hey, Satoru - are you still at the store? I - kinda need something, urgently.” Your voice asks.

“Eh - yeah, I’m at the store. What do you need?” He says, trying to hush the two sniggering traitors beside him who are fully aware that he came back from the store an hour ago and is sitting in Suguru’s dorm with them.

“I - um, I need kitten milk.” Your voice says, just as the camera cuts off.

The next few videos are just videos on videos on you and a tiny, tiny kitten, feeding it from a small bottle and it sleeping on your chest, or Satoru playing with it and a ball of wool in hysterical laughter. One video is taken by Shoko with Suguru in the frame playing with the kitten who is trying to catch his bangs and on the sofa, is you sitting on Satoru’s lap, as he looks at you adoringly and you giggle and place a kiss on his lips. Given that it’s about 3/4 of the way through your second year, it means you’re freshly together after torturing your friends with mutual pining.

Megumi looks closer at the kitten, and the tabby is very recognisable to him - given that to this day, the hairs of that kitten, now 13 years old and still thriving due to your unwavering spoiling, still decorate any black fabric in your home.

“Is that baby grumpy George?!” Nobara asks, hitting the nail on the head.

The video fades again, and then the screen is illuminated by a makeshift stage in the school sports hall. Another large banner is on the wall, with ‘Talent Show’ written in large writing, Megumi now noticed the big bubble writing was the same as had been on every ‘happy birthday’ banner he’d had every year.

The announcer, he recognises as a smiling principal Yaga - even though this is surely not a school organised or endorsed event, but probably the work of the couple he now calls his parents.

“Welcome to Jujutsu Talent Show! The rules of tonight are as follows a) no cursed techniques or cursed energy and absolutely no sabotaging! Panda! Do you want to say who’s going first?” Yaga announced as he lifts up a baby panda and the voice of the baby says “Nanami and Yu!”.

Yu skips on stage, decked out in a cape patterned with stars and a large top hat, followed by a very sullen Nanami Kento, adorned with a nose and lip ring now.

“Ladies, gentlemen, cursed corpses! My name is Yu the Magic Man and this is my assistant, the Fantastical Nanamin! Does anyone here like rabbits?” He announced, and takes off his hat, revealing a stuffed rabbit on his head - commencing the world’s worst magic show. The highlight was definitely Yu asking Nanami to pull the scarf from his sleeve and after pulling and pulling and pulling, a very frustrated Kento growls ‘Fucking hell, Yu - how long is this thing?’ Completely breaking what little mysticism surrounded the performance. Geto didn’t help, when he muttered ‘that’s what she said’ after Nanami’s complaint, setting the second years off.

After a bow to his rapt audience, and lots of cheering and supportive clapping from you all - the first years leave and Yaga announces the next performance.

A loud bang echoes through the room,

“Holy shit!” Your voice, the 28 year old you, carries through the room as three heads spin around to see their sensei’s back, arms supporting the thighs around his waist, belonging to his wife who’s lipstick is smudged across her cheek and her husband’s face. The white haired man’s white shirt was partially unbuttoned and your sweater had fallen completely off you shoulder - combined with the position you entered the room and the ruined cosmetics it was quite clear why the teachers had stumbled into this forgotten room of jujutsu tech.

“Get a fucking room.” Megumi grumbles.

“We were! But you’re here! And just for that I’m gonna tell you that the sofa you’re sitting on was where Akio was conceived.” Gojo retorts, trying to fix himself as all the kids groan.

“Both of you, hush. ‘Toru - look at the screen.” You were transfixed on the paused screen.

“Wait! Is that - that’s our talent show! From second year! Where did you guys find this?” Satoru says, leaping over the back of the sofa and plopping down but not before turning around and picking you up by the waist and sitting you in his lap.

“I thought all the DVD’s were lost! Koko couldn’t find them after we graduated!” You say, as you keep staring at the screen.

“We were clearing out the storage room, like Ijichi asked and we found a funky box with DVD’s in it.” Yuuji says.

“Oh my god! Press play!” You say, clapping.

“Look at angry Nanamin!” Gojo says, smiling.

“Next up is Y/N and Shoko!” Screen Yaga announces.

You and Shoko are dressed in the most colourful outfits ever, you’re beaming and Shoko looks exhausted. Large headbands, crimped hair, tutu skirts, leggings, neon leg warmers and beads were the costume of choice as Geto stood on one side of the stage.

“Welcome to - Y/N and Shoko’s dance bonanza!” You both say, and Geto presses play so that Girl’s Just Wanna Have Fun plays to match the 80s Cyndi Lauper style outfits. Having danced ballet as a little girl, and being a big fan of Just Dance and Dance Dance Revolution - you decided that you and Shoko would do this for the show, exhausted and unenthusiastic - but endlessly loyal to her best friend and determined to not let Gojo win the show. You guys danced a perfectly in sync routine with 28 year old you shouting ‘Oh my god, I still remember the routine!’ Halfway through. Yuuji was hopping along on the sofa beside Megumi.

Before Shoko could collapse into a heap as the song finished, she was thrown over Suguru’s shoulder and hauled off stage with Gojo doing the same for you.

After a brief intermission, Geto and Gojo were welcomed on stage in matching black tuxedo’s, off camera your voice could be heard saying ‘ugh, I’m gonna climb that man like a tree later, suits are the best.’

“Ladies, gents - tonight welcome to The GS squared stand up comedy show, enjoy your night and Geto’s number is available after the show.” Gojo drawls into the mic.

Megumi didn’t expect the routine to be as funny as it was, everyone especially enjoyed the part where they did impressions of different Jujutsu Elders, including Naobito Zen’in and Principal Gakuganji - which were unnervingly accurate but highly offensive to them, especially when Gojo got on his knees to imitate how short the elder Kyoto principal was and Geto kept playing Looney Tunes on the projector to show Naobito’s ‘cursed technique’.

When the audience were thoroughly hysterically laughing, with the audience being Yaga, MeiMei, Panda, Y/N, Shoko, Yu, Kento and Utahime who was visiting Shoko for the weekend, the boys bowed, winked and walked off stage and the camera caught Gojo bending down to whisper something in his ear which had you looking at the sky and blushing - still getting used to openly loving each other.

The voting wasn’t recorded, but the winners announcement was and it was shown to be Yu and Nanami - who everyone, except for themselves had voted for.

“Oh my god, these are priceless! I can’t believe I got even funnier with age, and look at your cute little outfit, princess!” Satoru coos.

“There’s a whole box of them, we’ve only watched 2!” Yuuji says, bouncing and handing the box to you and Satoru.

“No way, it’s the whole box! I remember decorating it with Koko! Hold on, I’m gonna ring her to come here.” You say as you take out your phone, smiling at the lockscreen of Satoru, Megumi and your 6 month old son and pulling up Shoko’s contact to ring her to ‘get her ass down here for a surprise’.

“Oh, ‘toru! I bet our DVD of our trip together to Fiji in the summer of third year, Shoko lent us her came for it!” You say, wrapping your arms around him and settling in while Yuuji loads the next DVD.

“Classes are cancelled, I’ve decided it’s home movie day - do we have any popcorn?” Satoru says, smiling at how fondly Megumi is looking at the screen, a still pause screen of himself and you smiling in the training yard together - still looking as lovingly at each other 13 years later. Yuuji has his arm wrapped and Megumi’s shoulders and is leaning into him, as the dark haired boy rubs circles on his boyfriend’s knee - Nobara has her legs stretched across the laps of both boys as the newest video begins.

The door swings open, Shoko entering -

“No fucking way! You found them! Kids, move up - let Aunty Koko sit.” She says, plopping herself between the arm and her two best friends, her nephew and their bonus kids.

She’s glad she bought that camera.

#jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #anime #family formations extras #dad!gojo

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cupcakeslushie · 5 months ago

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First || Prev || …

Here’s the next part of the Kendratello AU! I knew it was going to be very dialogue heavy, so I figured writing it out would be fast, but I’m so ready to be done with it that I’ve not really beta read it. So I apologize for any errors. But enjoy!

Splinter loves his sons, but these last few days have been eating away at his already shriveled and fraying nerves. Watching his children ambling around their home, for months, each in varying states of anxiety, fear, and distress, hasn’t been easy on his old heart.

They’ve been through so much, experienced more hardships than Splinter has ever wanted for them. But the latest crucible tearing his family apart was caused, not by some ancient demon, or world-ending threat—but a fiendishly smart, young woman.

One who’d kidnapped his son and replaced him with a stranger that Splinter hardly recognized.

The bitter tale is too familiar for the old movie star to painlessly swallow. It seems fate played such cruel tricks sometimes. Always seeming to strike harsher the second go around. With outcomes even more brutal and painful. His son was stolen by a hateful, sadistic woman, and kept locked away, until she was satisfied with the new toy that emerged from the shadows.

So it stands to reason how…relieved Splinter had been that one, early morning. When his three sons had pulled Purple into his bedroom, piling into his bed, nothing but wide eyes and panicked shouting; one over the other. Looking back now, he can recognize how short-sighted his quick relief had been. But in the moment, as a father, Splinter had only seen this new, strange development as a blessing.

Donatello might have been confused, and irritated with his brother’s manhandling, but Splinter could clearly see more life in those eyes than he’d witnessed in months. Splinter had shushed the rest, and spoken to Purple directly, finally getting a better grasp on what his sons were shouting about.

Amnesia.

So, of course, relief. Because how could forgetting all those horrible, tortuous weeks in that woman’s grasp, possibly be a bad thing? By some miracle, Splinter’s boy had been returned to him. Nowhere near that frail ghost of Donatello, which Splinter would sometimes find curled up on the floor of his own lab, screaming Kendra’s name and sobbing to be returned to her care.

He had been spared all of that, like it never happened. Their family had been handed a gift, and Splinter truthfully wasn't interested in the whys of it all…

Until Michelangelo chose to contact Draxum, and words like “brain damage” and “tumor” were thrown into the mix.

An entire day of testing yielded…varying results. They were able to rule out the scariest of options. No dark shadows were seen in the X-rays of his son’s beautifully brilliant brain, and no concerning squiggles were pointed out by the Hidden City doctors who studied the fast moving waves appearing on the EEG. It was all a bunch of nonsense to Splinter, but Donatello nodded like he agreed, when he was handed the papers over to inspect himself.

Everything was normal, physically.

That left the most difficult part of the day. Getting his son to speak to a psychiatrist—seriously, and without snarking back at every possible question he would eventually be asked.

Draxum had thankfully picked a good one. Briefing her beforehand on…everything. She seemed prepared for Purple’s special brand of cynicism. The sheep yokai was apparently at the top of her field.

A tentative diagnosis of “dissociative amnesia” had been given, along with a small number of pamphlets and printouts. The doctor had informed Splinter that certain treatments might improve Donatello’s situation, but no cure had been discovered for something like this.

They would just have to take things one day at a time. And they’d been doing so well. Almost like everything was back to normal.

Splinter had become very good at ignoring that pending feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He smiled at his sons every day onward, like nothing was wrong. And all of them, in return, began falling back into a more comfortable ease around each other. The stress had just been starting to loosen in Red’s shoulders and jaw. Orange was giving real, honest smiles again. And Blue was no longer a shadow around corners, hiding from Purple like a bomb he was scared to set off.

But the other shoe that had been the root of Splinter’s dread, finally dropped, and the rug was pulled from under their feet once more, violently, with no warning.

Even after they’d managed to calm Donatello down. There was no negotiating the terms of his reality, and he was stubbornly convinced that the world around him was fabricated. Without caring about the consequences, he refused to be civil towards any of them, treating them all like jesters in a play, where no one had the script.

The family’s usual process for dealing with Purple’s anger–letting him cool off alone in his lab until he collected his thoughts–was unfeasible this time around.

Splinter didn’t think he could ever forget the image of his son, turning the knife he held in his hands inwards, and threatening to end his own life.

No; leaving him alone was not an option.

Which led back to Splinter’s previously mentioned frayed nerves.

Four days into this new, stressful change, and his genius son was still managing to find creative ways to sneak past their watchful eyes. Six attempts, in total. Each time, caught with seconds to spare, and just as traumatic for everyone involved.

Raphael and Michelangelo at the moment, were going through their home, removing every sharp implement they could find. Anything that could possibly be used to “put an end to the loop” that Donatello was convinced he was stuck in.

While the two performed their important task, Blue and Splinter had the harder of the two jobs; watching Purple.

Splinter was currently sitting comfortably in his chair, but it was far from his usual level of relaxation. Despite plenty of bean bags to occupy, the twins were locked in a shoving match. For some reason, they were fighting over the single, smallest one they must’ve owned.

“If you don’t get out of my personal space, I swear to Oppenheimer you will regret it, Leonardo!”

“And I swear to Ryan Renolds, that I’ll shred all of your softest hoodies if you kick me in the nuts one more time!”

“That Barbenheimer joke doesn’t even make sense, you idiot, that was Ryan Gosling!”

“Who mentioned Barbie? I’m talking about Deadpool and Wolverine!”

“What does that movie have to do with anything?!”

“Fuck dude, what did I just say about nut shots!”

“Then get out of my kicking radius, and your non-existent nuts will be safe!”

“BOYS!”

Both his sons quickly pause their arguing, giving their father their undivided attention.

“Leonardo, go help your brothers.” Splinter demands. “I will watch Purple. He has not had a moment of free time from any of you in days, and it is clearly wearing on all of us.” Blue gives his father one of his patented unimpressed stare downs.

“No offense, Pops, but how is you watching him, any different than me?”

“Because I will sit in my chair, and Purple will scroll on his phone, and there will be quiet.” Splinter can’t stand the bickering any longer. He knows both his sons will benefit from this time apart. It’s just convincing Blue of that.

Donatello’s gaze is boring holes into the back of Leonardo’s head while his second oldest son matches Splinter’s scrutiny. The rat can see the need for some fresh air battling against Blue’s desire to stay close. But Leonardo is his sharpest son, and even he can admit that his constant presence has become too grating for his brother.

“You need to watch him like a hawk, Dad,” Leo glares at his twin out of the corner of his gaze, “sometimes you can get a little…distracted.”

The new projector, playing Splinter’s same old programs, flashes against the curtain hung on the wall. The volume is set to low, but Blue still looks pointedly between his father and the screen. Splinter doesn’t blame him for his concern, so he tries to put all the gravity he can into his tone, enough that when he does promise to stay vigilant, it seems to convince Blue to place his trust in him.

Purple stays quiet through the exchange, only breathing a sigh of relief once his brother is long past the threshold of the den. He looks ready to lean back into his hard won pillows, but Splinter realizes that Blue had something of a point. Donatello is positioned quite far from him, and he’s suddenly nervous about catching something in time.

“Purple, how about you come sit with me.” Splinter suggests it kindly but firmly, and with a smile– so his son can’t refuse. He pats the bit of cushion next to his legs, “I will honor my promise to leave you alone, but I would be much more relaxed if you were within my reach.”

His boy merely blinks at him, blank faced, and staring at the very spot that Splinter has just created for him.

It isn’t as though his recliner is small, even if Splinter himself is. Donatello had custom made it for him, after one too many complaints about his old brown one hurting his back. It practically swallows Splinter, but remains just stiff enough to provide plenty of support for his lower back. He could even lay sideways and still have some space to stretch.

Splinter recalls very clear memories of all his sons fighting for a spot by his side when they were younger. But it has been some time since those days…perhaps Donatello thinks he’s far too old for such a thing as sitting by his aging father. Yoshi remembers himself at eighteen, and shudders. He’s forever thankful that no matter how lacking his parenting skills might have been, that his boys are kinder to him than he ever was to his Jiji.

Donatello pulls at some invisible thread of his black leggings. Since this new alteration of his memories, Purple has taken to wearing more layers. It’s nearing fall, but not nearly cold enough for the large sweatshirt, black leggings AND socks that his son is currently donning.

Splinter just barely hears Purple murmur a jumbled, “Huh?”

Splinter catches some sort of emotion actively being suppressed behind the bewildered shock at his offer, but it’s hard to tell what it is. Over the years Splinter is ashamed to say, he has grown very bad at reading his own children. Especially Purple, who, if he was being honest, has always been very hard to decipher.

Splinter starts to think the offer will be rejected, when Purple finally climbs to his feet and ambles slowly over. The unknown emotion skittering at the edge of Donatello’s expression morphs into something closer to suspicion. This one easy to identify, especially when it practically drips from his next words.

“Trying to endear yourself to me won’t sway me into falling for your tricks.”

The barb is said just as unkindly as everything else Purple has thrown at his family these last few days. Splinter lets it slide off him like water. He knows his son would (probably) never speak to him like that if he wasn’t stuck in such a painfully clear mode of survival and uncertainty.

“Yes, yes.” He says, untroubled. “Come sit and I can finally lean my chair back.”

Donatello watches him the entire time as he cautiously settles into his spot. He yelps when Splinter grabs his ankles and pulls his son’s long (thin, still much too thin) legs across his lap. For an instant, Splinter freezes, growing worried he’s overstepped. The act had been done without a thought. It’s the way Purple has always liked to sit, finding it more comfortable than any other way. Donatello preferred to keep his distance. A deviation from his siblings, for sure.

Michelangelo would press as close as possible, two sides smushed together like a hug, only without the constricting limbs (though, if Orange were ever to fall asleep in Splinter’s chair, those too would eventually find their way to catching him in their hold).

Leonardo preferred to sit on the arm of his chair, never staying still for long enough to find a comfortable position. But when he slumbered, after a long night of binge watching Novela’s with Splinter–he would curl up, head in his father’s lap, limbs held tight to his body. Like he was afraid even that was asking for too much.

Raphael, his poor, eldest son, hadn’t sat with him in so long. Splinter could still remember a little turtle tot in red, climbing up and splaying out onto his lap when he needed a good cry–or just a moment of peace from his much too loud siblings. Sadly, it wasn’t long before his Red was too big, and his father too small to provide such a refuge. The last time Raphael needed consoling; after the Krang, Splinter had been forced to climb up onto his own son’s knees in order to reach and wipe away his tears.

In the few rare instances of Purple seeking out physical touch, this was all he would allow. Legs stretched over his father’s lap, but his upper body was always off limits. Pulled just far enough away from the threat of any sort of long term contact.

Splinter used to wonder if Purple was scared to ask for anything more, like Leonardo, or if he thought depriving himself of a comforting hug would make him seem stronger, like Raphael, or even the rare times when Michelangelo wished to appear more mature and refused to be comforted. Eventually, Splinter caught on to the truth. His son was asking for comfort, in his own unique way. He was content with the minimal amount of closeness, as long as he felt like he was able to dictate the terms.

But one thing Purple would always allow his father to do, was loop his fingers around his ankles. Trusting the grip would hold his legs in place and keep him stable. He once said the pressure was small enough that it wasn’t overwhelming, but strong enough that it could ground him when everything became too much.

Even now, the act of reaching out to pull his son’s long legs up had been so instinctive. When Splinter looks over and sees the uncertainty still on Purple’s face, he knows he’s pushed too far too quickly.

It’s a risky move, but he’s already pushed, and it’s something that never fails, not once since he’s discovered it.

Purple has always been the most ticklish of all his brothers. Another thing that never really helped his sensory issues. But Splinter long ago discovered that there was a particular spot, which could always earn him a giggle and a brighter smile.

Splinter grips the meat of Donatello’s right knee and jiggles it back and forth. The silly action seems to do the trick and knocks something loose in his son’s overwrought head. His gamble pays off spectacularly, and Splinter is overjoyed to see a small smile erase most of the uncertainty clouding Donatello’s face. It isn’t a full peal of laughter, but the wariness makes way for something softer, and the huff of air from his nose is just as rewarding as a full body laugh.

His boy rests his shoulder and head onto the cushioned back of the chair and Splinter presses the button that will lift up the leg rest, and recline them both into a more restful position.

After a few moments of quiet, Donatello slowly pulls his phone from the pocket of his hoodie. Even without looking directly at him, Splinter can feel his son watching and waiting for the reprimand he thinks will come. Instead, Splinter raises the volume of his show just loud enough for him to hear, but not enough to completely shatter their peace. He wants to make Purple feel more at ease; like he’s not being constantly surveilled–not providing more overstimulation.

They sit like that for some time. Splinter rubs a thumb back and forth across the meatier part of Donatello's calves. He’s learned that repetitive touch is the best kind of grounding technique for Purple. The patterned motion always worked to calm his nerves.

Even still, after only so long Splinter catches Purple lowering his phone.

He keeps his own gaze forward, locked on his commercials. Splinter can see, without looking, that his son is studying him, trying to take apart something in his mind that he doesn’t understand. Splinter allows him all the time he needs to gather his thoughts.

Finally Purple speaks, “Dad…?” It’s so quiet, if Splinter hadn't been waiting for it, he might’ve missed it.

He pauses the repetitive kneading for just a moment, squeezing his hold, and humming in order to prompt his son to continue his thought.

“Can I tell you something?” The inquiry is whispered to him so delicately. It takes everything in him to keep his face open and soft and his movements steady. It’s clear that Donatello is trying his best to remain aloof, but his gaze is locked on his hands that are settled in his lap, the fingers of one pulling on the digits from his other.

At some point he must’ve put his phone completely away. Splinter feels the pressure of having Donatello's complete focus aimed at him.

The tugging intensifies. Splinter wonders if he should reach out, but he’s not sure how well that would be received. It doesn’t look painful just yet.

“I don't know what Kendra is accomplishing by showing me this.” Donatello growls, suddenly digging his palms into his eyes like he can still feel the weight of the screen blocking his vision. “Trying to make me happy, only to rip it all away from me? Or attempting to make me feel, even more like a useless burden than I was?”

It’s the first crack in his armor that Purple has shown in days. A clear sign that he was not as unaffected by Kendra’s lies as he’d been trying to project. Donatello sighs, but as it dies out Splinter thinks it sounds closer to a sob.

“You can’t tell the others…” Donatello looks at him with wet, desperate eyes, and it’s unclear if his son still doubts who he’s speaking to, but Splinter works to ease his fears all the same.

“I swear, whatever you tell me will remain between us, alone.”

Donatello nods faintly, eyes trailing downwards once more. Splinter may have had trouble before, but now the many emotions jumping across his son’s face—fear, shame, frustration, all are easy to catch.

With a shaking breath he whispers his secret. “I lied.” He’s crying now, real tears that he doesn’t even bother to wipe away. The pulling at his skin grows more violent, and Splinter finally interferes to carefully pry Donatello’s hands apart before damage is done. In place he cradles his son’s hands like delicate porcelain and runs a thumb over Donatello’s palm.

“I told everyone that I could tell. That I wasn’t being fooled, but that’s not exactly true. The last few loops have…it’s been getting harder, and harder to remember things— how they really happened. Too much is…plausible.”

Splinter keeps silent. This confession has clearly been weighing on Donatello. He deserves to get it all out, and hopefully feel lighter for it. Even if Purple suspects the family, something is letting Donatello open up enough for him to share his fears.

“There was one loop…Mikey broke…he broke the remote…When I said I didn’t have time to fix it. He threw the pieces at my head. He would never do that, though…right?”

“No, of course not,” Splinter answers immediately, quick to banish the doubt from his son’s mind. Donatello only blinks at him, like his thoughts are moving too slow, and cannot comprehend such a simple, stark contradiction to what he experienced.

“It felt so real…it all feels so real. But…I could feel how one of the sharp, broken corners had cut through my mask and how the wet fabric stuck to my skin with blood.”

Donatello raises a hand and touches the spot where the phantom wound must’ve sat. The pain now gone, but the memory of it haunts his eyes and rattles the tremors building in his hands.

“I thought…I thought I was handling this—maybe not well…But I’d hoped I would be strong enough to last until you all came for me…And now Raph is saying it’s already over.”

It’s a simplified form of the truth which they had tried to get Purple to believe, but even that much clearly doesn’t sit well with him. “If it is over, why does my body feel like one massive bruise? How did you all find me? How long did I last? Was I in there long enough to…?”

He’s clearly scared to ask Splinter any more questions, so he trails off, curling in on himself and pulling his hands up to his chest, pressing there, as if checking to make sure he feels something still beating.

Splinter decides he’s waited long enough and slowly pulls Donatello out of his hunched ball and guides his head to his own chest, making sure his ear is aligned against his own pulsing heartbeat.

Donatello resists slightly at first, but the moment he’s close enough to catch the sound, his breath catches and he glues himself to the spot.

“I don’t want to be there anymore,” Purple murmurs. It sounds like sleep is catching up with his son, the exhaustion pulling him down and slurring his words.

Splinter cups the back of Donatello’s head and carefully tug his fur lined blanket down from where it’s been sitting on the back of his chair. The blanket slots over the both of them and Donatello curls even closer to his father, tucking himself into his warmth.

“Go to sleep, when you wake up, you will be right here.” He’s sure to say it softly but with as much reassurance as possible, and Donatello seems too tired at this point to hold onto his doubts.

“Okay…,” Donatello mutters. Then, practically hanging on to the waking world for one final query hesitantly asks, “…Dad?…Do you love me?”

Splinter doesn’t even think. “Of course, my son.”

Donatello’s breathing finally evens out, and Splinter feels a few tears finally escape.

He’s not sure what next steps they should take, or what kind of state his son will be in when he wakes, but Splinter can only hope this is progress. He prays it won’t be undone…but regardless, Donatello is home. Any steps back or forward will be taken together, and that is the most important part.

#kendratello au #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #rise splinter #rise leo #tw brainwashing #slushie writes

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lordprettyflackotara · 5 months ago

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worthy || sam golbach

The camera was long discarded on the dust filled floor, its light the only source providing illumination of the ancient room. Through its lenses was the sight of Sam’s sneakers, his pants and boxers shoved down to his ankles. In front of him was you, your skirt and panties shoved down to your matching vans. The camera was still recording as he snapped his hips into yours, his cock abusing your g spot as he pleased. “W-what if Colby comes looking for us? We’ve been gone for too long,” You stammered. Sam placed a sloppy kiss against your shoulder, one hand circling your clit while the other cupped your breast. He had you bent over a table in a haunted library, the rows of endless books shielding you from any possible onlookers. “He won’t and if he does, he’ll just hear you moaning my name and he’ll fuck off,” Sam grinned mischievously. He had been teasing you all night, from gripping your waist to rubbing against your clothed cunt in the car.

“But what about the video?” You whispered, whimpering as he squeezed your clit. You were anxiety filled, the dust flooding your nose and eerie faint sounds of dripping water enough to make you nervous. It was erotic and terrifying. “Fuck the video. You’re worth it,” Sam panted. He shoved you fully down on the table, your chest colliding with the wood. “Now be a good girl and shut up and take this dick,” He grunted, ramming into you. You tried to hold back your sinful noises, Sam’s hands grabbing your arms and pinning them behind your back. He drew faster circles around your clit, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. His thrust were mercilessly, your short little skirt sending the blonde into a frenzy. “Sam i’m so close, fuck,” You cried. Sam kept his thrust even and steady; relishing in the feeling of you squeezing him tighter. “Cum for me babygirl, cum on my dick. Let the ghost know how good I make you feel,” He teased. Once the two of you were done you continued filming, Sam making a mental note to delete the footage and continuing on with filming the video like nothing had happened.

You both met up with Colby in the car, filming the outro and heading home. You were curled up in Sam’s lap in the backseat, fast asleep as his cum filled your panties. “Find anything crazy?” Colby asked. Sam shrugged, brushing some stray hairs out of your face. “Our camera went out for a bit, but we got some good stuff,” Sam lied. Colby put the car in reverse, driving out of the driveway. “Damn. I’ll take a look and see what happened when I go through the footage,” Colby said. Sam tried to have a poker face, his eyebrows slightly furrowing. “Huh?” He asked. Colby put the car in drive, driving down the old dirt road. “You don’t remember? It’s my turn to edit. I’ve been putting it all on you lately man, i’m gonna make it up to you and have it done by tomorrow morning,” He grinned. Sam gave him an uneasy grin trying to play it cool. Colby gave him a mischievous look in the rearview mirror, before turning on the AC.

“Besides, fuck sleep, seeing that footage is worth it.”

#sam and colby x you #sam golbach x you #sam goldbach smut #sam golbach x colby brock #sam and colby x reader #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach smut #sam and colby smut #sam golbach #sam and colby #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #colby brock x reader #colby brock smut #colby brock

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starwrighter · 1 year ago

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1/?? Halloween prompt

I’ve got brain rot for creepy Deadserious content but only when it’s only seen as creepy by outsiders. (I know I’m writing a fic with a similar plot but it’s different I swear! Also my grammar is shit because I’m getting dental work done tomorrow and I’m nervous) Tw for stalker behavior

So Damian has a crush on Danny and immediately goes about acting on these feelings much to onlookers horror. Danny is swooning because someone made the effort to do a background check on him. Danny thinks Damian doing this is really smart because, he could be a serial killer for ancients sake why would you risk that? Others say this is a horrible invasion of privacy.

Damian not realizing he's being creepy (being liminal and being an ex assassin, turned vigilante wasn't doing him any favors) Plus Danny also not realizing it's creepy unless you relay Damian behavior towards him with different names.

Damian's just being a textbook stalker, breaking into his house and shit and Danny's all like "awwww he likes me" because this is just normal ghostly courting rituals! His dormroom isn't his lair so Damian breaking in doesn't feel like he's violating any sort of boundary. To him it's like a friend showing up at the coffee shop you work at to say hi.

Danny's had stalkers before, he's very cautious of his behavior to insure he never stalked anyone. Being stalked back in Amity was a horrific experience for him. From cameras in the locker rooms at school (wes) to cameras in his bathroom and bedroom at home (Vlad)! He couldn't feel safe anywhere! To Danny Damian's not a stalker, he's his protector. Nobody seems to understand when he tries to explain this though they just look at him like he's lost his mind.

Damian’s not subtle at all and Danny’s kicking his feet like a lovesick school girl who found out her crush likes her back. Overall it’s super cute from their points of view Damian’s planning an official confession to ask him on a date while Danny’s trying to figure out if Damian actually likes him or is just being nice. They’re just doing normal couple things but people just jump and attack Damian’s character while painting Danny as some kind of brainwashed victim.

The thing is… Danny’s become very good at appearing normal while Damian refuses to pretend to be a bumbling idiot like the rest of his family. He also refuses to dull down his personality for anything other than secret identity reasons. For these reasons since their relationship had become public, Damian had been painted by the media as a creepy possessive boyfriend who threatened Danny into a relationship. This infuriates Danny, the only one doing any kind of possession is him god damn it!

They want to be around each other all the time and that’s normal behavior for ghost/liminal couples! They live much longer than regular humans do they’re like elves, their perceptions of time are messed up. They still spend time apart they still have hobbies and an independent life, people just get hung up on the amount of time they do spend together. It’s normal behavior for them to know mountains of information about each others interests to the point they almost know more than each other. It’s normal to know each other’s schedules and background check the people they associate with. (The realms are very dangerous with shapeshifters and manipulators like spectra and Desiree who can ruin your afterlife in a matter of minutes) Their relationship is creepy to those who haven’t gone to extremes to survive.

Damian has taken to ignoring the reputation press has given him. He’s dealt with paparazzi and tabloids before it’s just frustrating to deal with. It’s when people start accusing him of hurting his beloved that really pisses him off.

(Bonus if Danny’s the one frothing at the mouth to maul a reporter while they try to paint him as a poor innocent victim)

I’mma end the prompt with this so everyone understands why Damian specifically being targeted by press. The more liminal you are the more creepy/uncanny you appear to other people and the more effort you have to put in to hide it. It’s why the bats are more believed to be Eldritch creatures than actual humans in suits. Surprisingly becoming a Halfa completely changes this effect to do the complete opposite. It’s easier for the human brain to look at a halfa and think “Innocent or normal,” Vlad and Danny were morons when it came to actually hiding their identity’s it was only their statuses as halfa’s that prevented people from comprehending them being anything other than normal.

In short Damian’s too dead to be perceived as normal while Danny’s too alive to be perceived as anything other than normal.

#I’m using the more extreme characterizations of Wes and Vlad for this #just so you guys know #when you think of Wes and Vlad think federal prison #tw creepy #tw stalker #this prompt is mostly word vomit #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #deadserious #dead serious

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imnotditzy · 2 months ago

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Captain Marvel doesn’t know what a normal death is

(TW: mentions of death, brief mentions of murder gang violence)

No but really if you ask a street rat, literal living lighting, a bunch of ancient immortal people and a really wise king from a bajillion years ago, why would a reasonable answer be an option?

Like Billy thinks that if you’re 60 one of your feet are in the grave. Why? Because that was the life expectancy in the 50s. He's also homeless so he’s already more exposed to crime anyway, I wouldn’t doubt he thinks death by “minding someone else’s business” is common enough to be recorded as such in its own category and not murder. Also, he literally fights supervillains who try to kill him everyday? His view is skewed so much, that the damage might be irreversible. 😭

Moving on, Marvel is literally sentient magic. They can’t die, and if they can it’s not a thing that’s very easy to come by. The amount of work it takes to even do the equivalent of a paper cut is excessive, the concept of them dying would take a lot to set in. And they are a lost cause when it comes to knowing what a normal death is. The only “normal” deaths they’ve really paid attention to are the deaths of the Champions…and none of them had anything close to a normal death. (One of them literally gets hacked in two 💀)

The acronym; do I even have to explain? All of them besides Solomon, Heracles and Achilles literally haven’t died. And literally no hero in Greek mythology dies normally. Solomon is the only one who’s died of natural and normal causes, but he was alive in the BCE. That is a long time ago.

Now, Combine all of them together and what do you get? Captain Marvel: someone who does not have a correct interpretation of typical death!

This would probably concern others around them. Especially the JL, because I feel like Captain would mention this randomly.

—

(Green Lantern [Hal] and Captain Marvel were sent to investigate a crime scene together and they stumble upon the body.)

Captain Marvel: Aw…seems like their time came. (Captain’s got a sympathetic but large smile.)

Green Lantern (looking down at the stabbed body): Um, Cap?

Captain: It’s a shame. But I guess nothing could be done…

Lantern: Captain, they were stabbed???

Captain: Oh, I know. Happens to the best of people, right?

Lantern: Uh —No? Captain this is…worrying??

Captain: They’re in a better place now. Maybe.. ☺️

—

(They’re now back at the watchtower for a debrief, but it somehow turned into Batman questioning Captain Marvel.)

Batman: Captain can you explain why the body was not concerning to you?

(Batman’s staring at Captain intensely.)

Captain (confused smiling): …because there was nothing to worry about?

Batman (raising an eyebrow): Why?

Captain (hesitant): Because there’s probably not a serial killer or whatever running around? They killed an insider, it was gang violence.

Batman: How were you sure?

(Captain looks up to the side like their remembering before shrugging)

Captain: …Oh, I’ve seen similar bodies like that before.

—

(This occurrence is reason #5738 on why Captain Marvel cannot interact with civilians. But in Captain’s defense, how was Billy supposed to know lifespans updated?)

Captain Marvel (pointing at an “old” lady): Oh, she’s 62?

Citizen: Yeah?

Captain (sympathetic): Oh. It’s good she’s still on her feet though.

Citizen: What?

Captain: She’s thriving for her age, right?

Citizen: C—Captain Marvel, she’s 60 not 99. She just retired.

Captain (confused): Really? Why would they have her working so long if she’s nearing the end? (The lady turns around with this expression on her face: 😟)

Citizen: Because she wanted to?? Captain are you ageist?

Captain (never heard that word a day in his life): Uh, I don’t think so? What does that even mean??

(The media later somehow gets ahold of the footage and it becomes such a scandal it reaches the JL; Captain Marvel is then forced to have a public statement. At the giant press conference, Mary and Freddy are there standing next to him and laughing.)

Captain Marvel (whispering): Shut up, it’s not like you thought any different.

Miss Marvel (also whispering): Yeah but we’re not stupid enough to say it to their face, Captain.

Captain Marvel (still whispering): It’s not like you guys would have any less scandals than I do if you were in the media as much as I am.

Reporter (impatiently): Ahem. Marvels?

(Both siblings look like deer in headlights while Freddy laughs at them. They both apologize in unison.)

(Captain then clears their throat, they look like they’re dreading this.)

Captain Marvel: I am terribly sorry for what I said about [62yo citizen]. I hadn’t intended to be rude, but I seemed as such because I had a gap in my…

Solomon (telling him what to say): …Knowledge. I was under the assumption that the average lifespan wasn’t much longer than a person’s 60s…

Captain (repeating what Solomon’s saying): I now know that, while once true, that information is outdated.

(Billy went on for three more minutes, only stopping because the DTC got too bored and people were starting to give him funny looks.)

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lilbabypanda-blog2 · 2 days ago

Text

Phainon x (fem) reader

Part1 part2 PART3

The group packed up quickly, with Tribbie cheerfully skipping ahead, Trailblazer casually snacking as always, and Dan Heng trailing behind with his usual quiet presence. Phainon lingered just slightly, trying to collect himself as his heart continued to race from Y/N’s earlier compliment.

He caught up as they began walking along a narrow path, the ancient stones of the city outskirts giving way to rough terrain. The air smelled faintly of moss and something metallic, and the ground was uneven beneath their feet.

Y/N walked ahead, her sword strapped securely to her back, her expression calm but focused. Phainon tried to focus on anything but how cool she looked.

“So, uh, Y/N,” he said, sidling up to her with a casual grin. “You were really amazing back there too, you know. The way you took down that big guy? Legendary.”

Y/N glanced at him, her face lighting up with a smile. “Thanks, Phainon. But it’s not really that impressive when you’ve had as much practice as I have.”

“Not impressive? Are you kidding?” Phainon said, his voice rising slightly. “You climbed a living boulder like it was a staircase! That’s… that’s beyond impressive! That’s—”

“Admirable?” Tribbie chimed in from ahead, turning to walk backward so she could grin at them. “Heroic? The stuff of legends? Keep going, Phainon, I’m enjoying this.”

Phainon stumbled over his words, shooting her a helpless look. “I mean, yeah, all of that! But I wasn’t—I wasn’t trying to—”

Trailblazer snickered, patting Tribbie on the shoulder as they both turned back to the path. Dan Heng, walking quietly a few paces behind, sighed audibly but said nothing.

Y/N just laughed. “You’re sweet, Phainon. But I couldn’t have done it without you all holding the others off. Teamwork makes the dream work, right?”

Phainon flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Y-yeah, totally. Teamwork.”

They walked in companionable silence for a while, the crunch of their footsteps on gravel the only sound. The scenery began to shift, with jagged cliffs rising on either side and strange, glowing carvings etched into the stone walls.

Dan Heng finally broke the silence. “The traces we’re following—there’s a higher concentration up ahead.” He gestured toward a fork in the path, one side leading to a darker, more enclosed area while the other veered toward an open, rocky clearing.

“Splitting up might save us time,” Y/N suggested, already assessing the terrain. “Dan Heng, you and Trailblazer could take the path on the left, and the rest of us can check out the clearing.”

Dan Heng nodded in agreement. “It’s logical. But if either group encounters trouble, don’t engage until we regroup.”

Trailblazer gave a thumbs-up. “Got it. No heroics… unless they look really cool.”

Y/N rolled her eyes fondly. “Sure, just don’t die trying to show off.”

As Dan Heng and Trailblazer disappeared down the left path, the remaining trio headed toward the clearing. The rocky terrain was uneven, with glowing crystals jutting out at odd angles.

“Alright,” Y/N said, scanning the area. “Let’s see if we can pick up any more traces.”

Tribbie wandered a little ahead, poking at the glowing crystals with her staff. “These things are so weird. I feel like if I touch the wrong one, the whole place might explode.”

“Maybe don’t touch them, then,” Y/N suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Tribbie grinned, but she stepped back cautiously anyway.

Phainon, meanwhile, was sticking close to Y/N, his usual energy tempered slightly by the eerie atmosphere. He couldn’t help but glance at her every so often, marveling at how calm and composed she seemed.

“Hey, Y/N?” he said suddenly.

She turned to him, her expression curious. “What’s up?”

“Do you ever, uh, get nervous? You know, before a fight or something?”

Y/N tilted her head, considering the question. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “But I’ve learned to channel it. Nervous energy can be useful if you use it right.”

“Huh,” Phainon said, looking thoughtful. “That’s… really smart. Makes sense, coming from you.”

Y/N smiled. “What about you? Do you ever get nervous?”

“Oh, me? Nah,” Phainon said quickly, puffing out his chest. “I’m as cool as they come.”

Tribbie snorted loudly from a few feet away. “Sure, Phainon. That’s why you nearly tripped over a rock trying to dodge one of those stone monsters earlier.”

“I was strategizing!” he said, his voice rising an octave.

Y/N laughed, and Phainon couldn’t even be mad about being called out because the sound of her laughter was worth it.

Before he could say anything else, Y/N crouched down, her sharp eyes catching something on the ground. She reached out and brushed away a layer of dust, revealing faint scorch marks and a few shards of glowing crystal.

“Looks like we’re on the right track,” she said, holding up one of the shards for Phainon and Tribbie to see.

“Good find,” Phainon said, leaning closer to examine it. “You’ve got an eye for this stuff, huh?”

“Comes with the territory,” she said with a shrug, slipping the shard into her bag. “Let’s keep moving. Whatever left these marks can’t be too far ahead.”

As they continued onward, Phainon couldn’t help but glance at Y/N every now and then, his golden-retriever smile never far from his face. Even in the middle of potentially dangerous territory, she had a way of making everything feel… lighter.

And if he tripped over a rock once or twice while sneaking glances at her, well, Tribbie was kind enough not to comment.

For now.

The group tread cautiously through the glowing clearing, the jagged terrain surrounding them like a maze of natural traps. The scorch marks and glowing shards scattered across the ground were undeniable signs that something was lurking nearby.

Y/N raised her sword slightly, the sharp metallic sound cutting through the tense silence. “Stay alert. We’re close.”

Phainon stepped closer to her, his signature golden-retriever grin still present, though his eyes were sharp with focus. “Don’t worry. If anything jumps out, I’ll handle it.”

“You’ll handle it?” Mydei snorted from behind, his rough voice carrying just enough mockery to make Phainon glance over his shoulder. “Didn’t you almost trip over your own sword five minutes ago?”

“Strategic repositioning,” Phainon shot back, puffing his chest out. “You wouldn’t understand, Mydei. It’s a finesse thing.”

“Right,” Mydei drawled, his blonde-red hair catching the glow of the crystals as he cracked his knuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind while I’m taking down twice as many as you.”

Tribbie, skipping a few paces ahead, waved her staff around like it was a baton. “Oh, boy. Here we go again. The Phainon versus Mydei Show, round 57.” She paused, smirking over her shoulder. “You know, if you two spent half as much time fighting monsters as you do fighting each other, we’d have wiped this place clean by now.”

Before anyone could respond, a deep, grinding sound echoed through the clearing. The ground seemed to vibrate beneath their feet, and from the shadows emerged hulking figures of stone and crystal.

The Titankin stood tall and menacing, their faceless, humanoid forms glowing faintly with runes etched into their surfaces. Some carried swords as broad as tree trunks, while others held bows strung with crystalline energy.

“Alright, guys,” Y/N said, her voice calm and commanding as she gripped her sword. “We’ve got company. Let’s not make this harder than it has to be.”

“Hard? Please,” Phainon said, flipping his blade with a flourish. “This’ll be easy.”

“Bet I take down more than you,” Mydei challenged, his fists glowing faintly as he prepared for battle.

Phainon rolled his eyes but grinned. “Oh, it’s on.”

Y/N sighed. “Can you two not—”

“Ready? GO!” Phainon yelled, charging toward the nearest Titankin with Mydei hot on his heels.

Y/N groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Of course.”

Tribbie giggled, hopping to the side as one of the archer-type Titankin fired a glowing arrow her way. “You gotta admit, it’s kind of fun watching them trip over themselves trying to one-up each other.”

“Fun isn’t the word I’d use,” Y/N muttered, dashing forward to engage one of the sword-wielding Titankin.

The battlefield erupted into chaos.

Phainon darted around the heavy strikes of a massive Titankin, his movements quick and graceful as he delivered a series of precise slashes to its legs. “That’s one down!” he called triumphantly as the creature crumbled into rubble.

“One?” Mydei scoffed, delivering a powerful uppercut to another Titankin, causing cracks to spiderweb across its torso. He followed up with a crushing blow that sent it collapsing in a heap of stone. “Two for me!”

“Oh, come on!” Phainon shouted, narrowly dodging a glowing arrow. “That one didn’t even put up a fight!”

“Don’t be mad just because I’m better,” Mydei retorted, smirking as he squared off against another enemy.

“Better at being annoying, maybe!”

Y/N, meanwhile, was weaving through the battlefield like a dancer, her sword flashing as she expertly dismantled the Titankin one by one. She didn’t have time to indulge in the boys’ antics, but she couldn’t help but smirk as she caught snippets of their bickering.

“Focus!” she called out, parrying a massive swing from one of the larger Titankin.

“I am focusing!” Phainon shouted back, leaping onto a boulder to get a better angle. He launched himself off it and delivered a devastating blow to one of the archers, splitting its crystalline bow in half. He turned to Mydei, grinning.

“Three down!” Phainon called out, his blade flashing as he leapt backward, dodging the heavy swing of a stone sword. He twisted midair, landed smoothly, and sliced through the Titankin’s glowing core. “Make that four!”

“Four?” Mydei snorted, dodging an arrow that narrowly grazed his shoulder. “I’m already at six. You better pick up the pace, golden boy.” He delivered a brutal punch to the chest of another Titankin, cracks spreading through its torso before it crumbled to the ground.

“You’re counting that one?” Phainon yelled, pointing accusingly at the pile of rubble. “It fell over because it tripped! You didn’t even hit it that hard!”

“Still counts,” Mydei said smugly, flexing his fists.

Tribbie laughed as she hopped onto a rock for a better view, her blue eyes gleaming with amusement. “I’m just gonna say it—you two are hilarious. You’re like those birds that fight over shiny things for no reason.” She waved her staff, blasting back a Titankin archer. “Meanwhile, Y/N’s probably lapping you both.”

“I heard that,” Y/N called out, her voice steady as she parried the massive blade of a Titankin. She stepped inside its guard, her sword flashing as she delivered a precise strike to its glowing core. The creature froze for a second before shattering into a heap of glowing rubble. “And Tribbie’s not wrong.”

Phainon’s head whipped around, distracted for a split second, which earned him a close call with a stone sword slicing through the air by his shoulder. He yelped and ducked, countering with a well-placed slash to the monster’s legs. “You’re saying you’re ahead of me?” he asked incredulously, finishing the Titankin off with a dramatic spin.

Y/N didn’t respond immediately, instead focusing on taking down another Titankin with a smooth series of strikes. Her movements were quick and calculated, every step and swing perfectly timed.

Mydei, mid-punch, glanced over at her with a frown. “She’s bluffing. There’s no way she’s ahead of me.” He delivered a devastating uppercut to a Titankin, sending its head flying clean off its shoulders.

Y/N only smiled, which, of course, made both men more suspicious.

“Seven!” Phainon yelled triumphantly, dodging and weaving through another attack. “Seven, Mydei! You better start worrying.”

“Eight,” Mydei shot back, slamming his fist into the chest of another Titankin. He glanced at Phainon with a smirk. “You’re gonna owe me dinner at this rate.”

Tribbie rolled her eyes, blasting another archer from a distance. “Wow, the male ego is really something, huh?”

Finally, the last Titankin fell, its glowing shards scattering across the rocky ground. The battlefield fell silent except for the sound of the group catching their breath.

Phainon wiped sweat from his brow, turning to Mydei with a triumphant grin. “Alright, what’s the tally?”

“Nine,” Mydei said confidently, crossing his arms and looking far too pleased with himself.

“Ha! Ten!” Phainon declared, pointing his sword at Mydei like he’d just won a duel. “Looks like dinner’s on you, my friend!”

Tribbie chuckled, hopping down from her perch. “I wouldn’t get too excited, golden boy.”

“What? Why?” Phainon blinked, confused.

Y/N sheathed her sword, her grin easy and casual as she stretched her arms. “Because I got 20.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“...What?” Phainon said, his voice cracking slightly.

“Twenty?” Mydei stared at her like she’d just sprouted a second head.

Y/N shrugged, brushing some dirt off her sleeve. “Yeah. You know, while you two were busy arguing and trying to impress each other, someone had to actually take care of the problem.”

Tribbie burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. “She got more than both of you combined! Oh, this is gold.”

Phainon’s jaw dropped, his face turning red—not from embarrassment, but from sheer disbelief. “You—you were counting?”

“Of course I was counting,” Y/N said with a sly grin, crossing her arms. “It’s not my fault I’m better at multitasking than you two.”

Mydei groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m never hearing the end of this, am I?”

“Nope,” Y/N replied cheerfully.

Phainon blinked, then rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well… uh… you were incredible out there, Y/N. Seriously. I mean, you always are, but today especially.” His usual golden-retriever energy returned in full force, though his cheeks were still faintly pink.

Tribbie nudged Mydei with a smirk. “Look at him, blushing like she just crowned him king of the world.”

Mydei rolled his eyes. “Pathetic.”

Phainon ignored them, flashing Y/N a grin that was only a little bit nervous. “Next time, I’ll catch up. Promise.”

Y/N chuckled, patting him on the shoulder as she walked past. “Good luck with that.”

Phainon just stood there, staring after her, the goofy grin on his face refusing to fade.

The group made their way deeper into the rocky terrain, the eerie glow of shattered crystal fragments lighting their path. The air was cooler here, heavy with an unnatural stillness that made Tribbie glance nervously over her shoulder every few minutes.

“So… does it feel like the ground’s gonna swallow us whole, or is that just me?” Tribbie muttered, clutching her staff a little tighter.

“Just your imagination,” Y/N replied casually, stepping over a fallen rock. “Probably.”

Tribbie squinted at her. “Probably? That’s not comforting.”

“Relax,” Phainon said brightly, his usual grin plastered across his face. He gestured to the rocky surroundings. “If anything weird happens, I’ll protect you!”

“Wow, I feel so safe,” Tribbie deadpanned, rolling her eyes.

As they moved forward, Mydei, who had been walking ahead of the group, suddenly stopped. “Hold up,” he said, holding out a hand. His sharp eyes scanned the ground.

“What is it?” Y/N asked, stepping closer to him.

“Something’s off,” Mydei replied, pointing to a patch of the rocky ground that looked slightly… different. The texture was smoother, the color faintly darker, almost like it had been worn down by something—or someone.

Y/N crouched down to examine it. She brushed her fingers over the stone and noticed faint grooves carved into it, leading in a jagged line toward a nearby outcrop. “These look like tracks,” she murmured.

“Tracks?” Phainon asked, leaning over her shoulder with barely contained excitement. “Like… a secret path?”

“Possibly,” Y/N said, rising to her feet. She followed the grooves with her eyes, her brow furrowing. “Whatever made them was big.”

“That’s encouraging,” Tribbie muttered, though she followed behind eagerly as Y/N began tracing the path.

The group walked in silence for a few moments, the faint glow of the crystals growing dimmer as they approached a cluster of large boulders piled haphazardly against the side of a cliff.

“Dead end,” Mydei said, crossing his arms.

“Maybe not,” Y/N countered, stepping closer to the boulders. She placed a hand on the surface of one, her gaze narrowing. “There’s something behind these.”

Phainon immediately perked up, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “You mean like hidden treasure? Or ancient ruins? Or a monster nest?”

“Could be all three,” Y/N replied dryly.

“Fantastic!” Phainon said, clearly missing her sarcasm.

Tribbie poked one of the boulders with her staff. “Alright, so how do we move these without getting crushed?”

“Allow me,” Mydei said, cracking his knuckles. Without waiting for a response, he stepped forward, placed his hands on the nearest boulder, and shoved. The rock groaned in protest before slowly rolling away, revealing a narrow passage that sloped downward into the darkness.

“Show-off,” Phainon muttered under his breath.

“You’re welcome,” Mydei replied smugly, gesturing to the newly revealed path.

The passage was just wide enough for one person to walk through at a time, its walls smooth and slightly damp. Faint symbols were etched into the stone, glowing softly as the group descended.

“This is definitely leading somewhere,” Y/N said, her voice echoing slightly.

“I vote we turn back before we stumble into something we can’t handle,” Tribbie whispered, though she didn’t stop walking.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Phainon asked, his excitement palpable. “This is an adventure!”

“An adventure that could kill us,” Mydei muttered, though he followed without hesitation.

As they reached the bottom of the slope, the passage opened into a vast underground chamber. The ceiling was high and arched, supported by towering pillars carved with intricate patterns. In the center of the room stood what looked like an altar, surrounded by more of the strange, glowing symbols.

“Whoa,” Tribbie breathed, her voice filled with awe.

Y/N approached the altar cautiously, her sword at the ready. The air felt heavier here, charged with some kind of ancient energy. “This place is incredible,” she said, running her fingers over one of the carvings.

Phainon walked up beside her, his grin softer now as he took in the room. “You’re right. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s also probably dangerous,” Mydei pointed out, eyeing the shadows warily.

“Dangerous and beautiful,” Phainon said cheerfully. “Like Y/N.”

Y/N turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“Uh, nothing!” Phainon said quickly, his face turning pink.

Tribbie snorted. “Smooth.”

Before anyone could comment further, a low rumble echoed through the chamber, and the glowing symbols on the altar began to pulse.

____

The chamber was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of energy resonating from the glowing symbols on the altar. The group moved cautiously, their footsteps echoing softly off the smooth stone floor.

Y/N stood at the center of the room, studying the carvings etched into the towering pillars. Her fingers traced the lines of the ancient symbols, their glow pulsing faintly under her touch. “These are definitely not from the same era as the city above,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. “This is... older. Much older.”

Tribbie wandered toward the walls, tapping her staff lightly against the stone. “Well, it looks cool. Creepy, but cool.”

“Cool and creepy are rarely good combinations,” Mydei said, standing by the entrance with his arms crossed. He scanned the room with his usual skeptical frown, his gaze lingering on the darker corners.

Phainon, meanwhile, hovered near Y/N, watching her examine the carvings with a curious tilt of his head. “Do you think it’s some kind of warning?” he asked, pointing to a set of jagged symbols that spiraled outward from the altar.

“Could be,” Y/N replied, her brow furrowing as she knelt to inspect the markings on the floor. “Or it might be a map... or instructions.”

“You’re saying you don’t know?” Mydei asked, smirking faintly.

“I’m saying I need more time to figure it out,” Y/N shot back, though her tone was more amused than annoyed.

Phainon crouched beside her, peering at the symbols with a thoughtful expression. “You’re really good at this, Y/N. Like, way smarter than I’ll ever be. It’s kind of amazing.”

Y/N glanced at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks, Phainon.”

Tribbie snickered from across the room. “He’s doing that thing again.”

“What thing?” Phainon asked, his grin faltering slightly.

“The thing where you turn into a lovesick puppy,” Tribbie teased, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Am not!” Phainon protested, his cheeks flushing a light pink. He quickly stood, clearing his throat.

Y/N, oblivious as ever, was already back to examining the symbols. She stepped closer to the altar, her focus narrowing on a particularly intricate carving. “There’s something strange about this part,” she murmured, leaning in for a closer look.

Phainon stepped forward instinctively, his hand hovering near her arm. “Uh, careful—”

Before he could finish, the ground beneath Y/N’s feet gave a sudden, ominous crack.

“Y/N!” Phainon shouted, lunging forward, but it was too late.

The floor crumbled away in an instant, and Y/N disappeared into the darkness below.

Tribbie screamed, dropping her staff as she ran toward the edge of the newly formed pit. Mydei was already there, his sharp reflexes keeping him from tumbling in himself. He grabbed Tribbie by the shoulder to keep her from getting too close.

“Y/N!” Phainon called, his voice echoing down the dark abyss. He dropped to his knees, peering into the void with wide, panicked eyes.

There was no sound except for the faint crumble of debris.

“Is she—” Tribbie started, her voice trembling.

“She’s alive,” Mydei interrupted, his tone firm as he scanned the edge of the pit. “There’s no way she’d go down that easily.”

Phainon clenched his fists, his usual smile completely gone. “We have to get to her. Now.”

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr art #phainon x reader #phainon hsr #phainon honkai star rail #phainon x you #phainon #x y/n #oc x character #x you #honkai x reader #x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you

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thealtoduck · 1 year ago

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Sweet Juice

Clark Kent x Male Reader

Content: Greek Mythology AU

Warnings: Smut, Bottom!Reader, Top!Clark, semi-public sex, anal sex, unprotected sex, drunken sex, skinny dipping, spit as lube, missionary position…

Summary: You’re a member of Dionysus following and during a feast you meet a demigod son of Zeus, Clark, also known as the man of steel…

——

You were a lesser deity in a world filled with powerful gods, monsters and heroes. You were the son of the now famous naiad, Daphne. Unfortunately though your mother was no longer with you as she had been turned in to a laurel tree as a form of mercy.

It was considered mercy because the only other option she had was to be violated by Apollo, who was under the spell of Eros after an argument between the two. Apollo feeling bad about the whole ordeal apologised by finding you a place in the retinue of Dionysus and Ariadne.

You didn’t mind this as your duties were pretty much drink, dance, fuck, drink more and generally just to have a good time. It was just constant partying and celebration.

One night when the party had yet to start a visitor came for Dionysus. You were sat close to the god’s throne, you were petting one of his pet leopards when a strange man appeared and entered the god’s camp. He walked slowly towards the olympian. You noted his handsome appearance as he stopped in front of Dionysus.

”Lord Dionysus, you sent for me” the man said in a deep tone. ”I did” Dionysus confirmed before standing up saying loudly ”Everyone! Let me introduce to you to Clark, you may know him as the man of steel!… And also one of my younger half brothers”.

Dionysus followers broke out in cheers for the hero, who seemed slightly confused by the big welcoming. ”I’ve called him here to save us all from the cyclops that has been attacking in the night” Dionysus declared and everyone once again cheered.

”What?! You never told me of any cyclops?!” Clark asked agitated. ”Actually I didn’t tell you anything but you showed up anyway” Dionysus teased him. ”Why don’t you save them yourself?” Clark questioned. However Dionysus only responded with a simple ”Where’s the fun in that?”.

Clark looked irretated at Dionysus and said ”I will not be tricked in to fighting someone else’s battle”. Making the on looking crowd let out disappointed murmurs. Dionysus walked up to the hero and put a hand on his shoulder.

”Come on Clark, do us this favour and we’ll give you the biggest celebration you’ll experince in a life time, with the finest wine and feast, our best music and dancers and if you want you can take to bed anyone you fancy, we don’t judge” Dionysus offered.

Clark took a moment looking around at the crowd surrounding him until his eyes landed on you for a swift moment. He then turned back to Dionysus and said ”Very well, i shall do you this favour”. Once again the crowd including you broke out in cheers and applause for the demigod.

The very next day gifted Clark with a sword, armour and food by Dionysus as he and his followers saw off the hero on his way to save them from the threat of the cyclops.

I didn’t take long for Clark to return as he was back at the camp by next day. He came back in the afternoon covered from head to toe in dirt, dust and a little cyclops blood. Throwing the red painted sword by Dionysus feet.

”Well done” Dionysus complimented looking at the blood drenched sword. Dionysus then turned towards you ”Y/n, take our hero somewhere he can wash off” he commanded. ”Yes, lord Dionysus” you said with a quick bow. He then turned back to Clark and said ”When you return, we feast”.

You went and collected a basket with a bottle of scented oil, a strigil (a tool they used in ancient greece to wash themselves) and a new chiton. ”This way, my lord” you said to Clark and started guiding him through the forest. ”Please, just Clark is fine” he said humbly following you.

You guided him to a secluded pond. ”Impressive, how did you find this place so quickly?” Clark complimented. ”My mother was a naiad, it’s an instinct” you explained putting down the basket next to the pond.

”Would you like me to bring you anything else?” you asked Clark as he started undressing out of the dented armour and dirty chiton. ”You’ve already done enough for me, thank you” he said gentlemanly. Clark was now naked, revealing his muscled body and impressive manhood, which you tried not to look at.

He stepped down in the pond, the water reaching up to his hips. ”Why don’t you join me?” he suggested gesturing towards the water. ”I’d love too, but i have to help the others prepare everything for tonight” you said. ”Come on, only for a short time” Clark tempted. ”Okay” you said with a smile, taking off your chiton and sandals.

Clark watched your naked form with interest as you stepped down in to the water. ”See, it’s nice” Clark said starting to wash himself off using the scented oil you brought for him. You tried not to stare at his oiled up chest but you were 90% sure he caught you looking but he didn’t say anything, he only smirked.

You relaxed in the cool water for a while until you remembered you needed to get back to the others. You climbed out of the pond and started putting on your clothing once again. ”Thanks for the company, hope i’ll see you tonight” Clark said. ”Hope, i’ll see you too” you said and started walking through the forest back towards camp.

That night the music rang loudly through the forest as you celebrated the death of cyclops and your new hero, Clark. You drank and danced wildly with your friends. Some others were already passed out from drinking, some were gambling and playing games and one couple were fucking against a tree.

You saw Clark sitting on a pillow next to Dionysus talking, goblet in hand. You made your way over to the olympian and the demigod. ”Y/n” Dionysus exclaimed happily as he noted your presence. He patted a pillow next to him saying ”Come sit down”.

You took the offer sitting down next to the god, he made your empty goblet instantly refill and put an arm around you. ”I was just telling Clark of my inner circle” Dionysus revealed and continued ”Y/n, here you’ve met, he is my and Ariandne’s favourite attendant and friend” he said sweetly.

”Also he has a body as if sculpted by Pygmalion, carved and smoothed to absolute perfection. You should hope to have a look upon it someday” Dionysus said taking another sip from his goblet.

”Actually i already have” Clark stated boldly making Dionysus spill some wine on himself. ”Y/n, joined me for a swim in the pond” Clark explained making your cheeks heat up slightly. ”Is that so?” Dionysus questioned looking towards you.

”Well, i’ve got to go find Ariadne” Dionysus said getting up leaving you and Clark. ”Are you and Dionysus-?” Clark started but you cut him off saying ”No, he and Ariadne just have a very open relationship”. ”How has your night been?” you then questioned the hero.

”Enjoyable but i’ve never been much of a party person” he said then taking a sip from his cup. ”I get it, before i came here i wasn’t either” you told him and then got an idea. ”Wanna go for a walk for some peace and quiet?” you asked. ”Sure, i’d love too” Clark said and the two of you stood up and walked off in to the forest behind you bringing your goblets with you.

You walked and talked for a while, drinking until your goblets were didn’t have a single drop left in them. Dionysus must’ve brought out the strong stuff because you and Clark were stumbling around and slurring your speech, you were laughing loudly at each others stories, sitting very close together.

Finally the two of you ended up behind some bushes close by to the party. You started to passionately make out, you laying on your back in the soft grass and Clark on top of you. Clark tore open your chiton and undressed you, leaving your naked form beneath him.

He then took off his own clothes revealing his muscular body and his hard cock. Clark took his hand and brought it to your mouth, you sucked on his fingers to get them wet, then he brought his moist fingers to your enterance and started pushing finger inside you.

You let out a small gasp as Clark started to finger you open, he added another fiinger and then another until you were ready to take him. Clark spit in to his hand and rubbed it over his erect manhood.

”It’s time i claim my reward” Clark said spreading your legs, he lined himself up with you and started pushing his hard cock in to your warmth. Clark loved the seeing the face you made as his cock slowly filled you up.

”Fuck your so big” you hissed as the demigod was fully sheated deep inside you. He then slowy started moving pushing himself in and out of you as a wave of pleasure started washing over you.

Your legs were wrapped around Clark as he thrusted in to you. ”I’m gonna fuck your little nymph hole full with my seed” Clark groaned in to your ear and placed kisses all along your neck. The demigod started speeding up his thrusts.

”Clark, fuck yeah! Take me” you said in ecstasy grabbing at his back as he fucked your hole. Both of your bodies had started gleaming from sweat as he mounted you under the moonlight, as his reward for defeating the cyclops.

Clark’s thrusts became rougher as he wanted to take you like a real demigod would, he loved how your walls clenched around his thick cock. He brutally fucked you with all the strength of his godly heritage to bring you to your release.

You let out breathy moans as Clark pounded your gaping hole, thrusting against your prostate. You felt yourself getting close to your orgasm. You dug your nails in to the grass below as Clark’s cock made you see Mount Olympus.

”Clark, i’m gonna cum” you said panting heavily making Clark thrust deeper as he wanted to push you over the edge. Then your cock started spraying cum all over your and Clark’s stomachs. Clark’s own release was getting close.

”I’m gonna plant my seed deep inside you” Clark moaned and his rough thrusts became uneven and sloppy. Clark delivered one last deep stroke in to you and he erupted inside you, he flooding your insides with his cum.

Both of you panted heavily and Clark rolled over and layed next to you in the grass. ”You were amazing” Clark praised while softly stroking your cheek. The two of you then used your torn clothes as blankets as you cuddled close together and you both fell asleep under the starry sky.

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