#She knew since the beginning him only now

[letsbangts]

thank you || jjk

⤷ summary: your appreciation for the man you married

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 1.4k

⟶ genre: fluff, married couple au, established relationship au

⟶ content: husband!jk, fratboy!jk briefly mentioned, sweetheart kook that could cause cavities

⟶ warnings: none just pure fluff

a/n: so this is inspired by you may want to marry my husband. hope you enjoy! :) as always hope you enjoy & let me know what you think!

masterlist

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I have been married to the most extraordinary man for four years. I am planning on many more (a plan that has been in effect since our first date seven years ago and will continue to be). And for that, I feel I should express my gratitude.

Thank you.��

Honestly, I do not know what I am thankful for, for everything, I guess? For him always being there, for him staying by my side. For loving and treating me exactly how I have always wanted a man to. 

Now, you may wonder who this gentleman is, and I am so happy to tell you, Jeon Jungkook.

He was an easy man to fall in love with. I did it in one day.

Let us take a trip down memory lane, shall we? Seven years ago, a young lady struggling with dealing with college and her part-time job gets dragged out by her best friend (I guess I should be thanking her too) attends a year-end party at a frat house one late evening. About an hour later, she bumps into a boy who spills his drink on himself, though all he can do is say to her with the brightest smile: You okay there, Clumsy?

And when she looks up at his face, she realizes that this is no douche frat boy with beer on his shirt, but an unbelievably attractive high-spirited young man. She shyly replies: Yeah, I'm okay. That is when what was supposed to be quick party banter with a stranger turned into a night of great conversation and a polite walk home. That then turned into sweet exchanges of subtle flirtatious texts and small phone calls that had this young lady thinking: Uh-oh, there is something loveable about this person.

As the couple enjoyed many hangouts during the beginning of summer (by the end of the summer, I knew I wanted to marry him) amidst the ever-growing flirting, they finally acknowledged their immense attraction. Then the hangouts turn into dates when that lovely young man finally asks her out. That is when they would have officially kicked off their step from subtle flirting to very blatant obvious flirting—the beginning of a couple that would only continue their journey together.

So that was the start of us.

I am a bit biased, but I will create a list based on my experience of coexisting with him for about 2,556 days on the reasons I am thankful for him and thus love him. The following list of attributes is in no particular order because everything about him is so important to me.

Starting with the basics: His blindingly contagious smile, his gorgeous body filled with pure joy and positivity (and muscle), his adorable fluffy hair that falls over his forehead to match his striking brown eyes, and his effortlessly breathtaking passionate singing, of course.

He always knows how I am feeling and how to match his mood to whatever one I am in. He can read my face with just a simple glance. I have always appreciated how he adjusts his mood to fit my own. If I am in the dumps and his spirits are up, he brings them down to comfort me; even if he is down in the dumps, he lifts his spirits to keep a smile on my face. And for that:

Thank you.

If I could list just one of the things that made me fall in love with him from day one and still makes my heart flutter to this day, it would be his little acts that are natural for him, which shows how much of a gentleman he is. From always opening doors for me, making sure I walk on the inner side of the sidewalk, giving me his jacket to wear, or carrying me into the bed when I fall asleep on the couch. He may not know how much I appreciate the little things, but those little things always remind me I sincerely have the best man out there. 

Silently suffering with the things I put him through that he may not want to do. Sitting through the cliché chick flicks, trailing behind me in the store as I look at three different tops that he says all look great on me but always end up picking the one he can tell I want more, or even giving up his personal space and all feeling in his right arm because he knows I sleep much better entangled with him.

That brings me to something he may not know that I know about him. He holds in a lot more than he leads on. The song he tells me he is struggling to perfect but tells me it is only a little bit of writer's block. Yet I can see in his eyes that it stresses him much more than he says. Yet he is always quick to change topics with a:

How could you have gotten prettier while I was gone?

Or

So tell me about your day. Did anything interesting happen today?

If I did not know him so well, I could have easily missed these things, but I have come to learn about the kind of person he is. He is the type of person who always puts others before himself. He leads himself to take on the role of making sure others around him are okay. He already knows he does not have to hide his worries from me, but Jungkook still always tries to keep the minor worries to himself because he believes they are things I will excessively stress over on his behalf. (and he is right, I would, what can I say I love the guy)

We have come to know each other so well over the years, huh?

When looking for a dreamy, last-minute adventure, he is my man. He always comes with me on random just-cause trips, be it a road trip to the countryside for a break from the city or a train ride to the sea to walk by the shore.

Thank you.

If it is still unclear, here is the kind of man Jeon Jungkook is: He surprised me on my first day at my new job with flowers because he knew how nervous I was. He is a man who is always up early and goes out to surprise me every Sunday morning by putting a different kind of flower on my nightstand with a love note. A man that comes out from the minimart or gas station and says: Hold out your hand. And, voilà, a plastic ring he got from a gumball machine (had that been his proposal, my answer would have been yes).

I am sure you understand what I am trying to say by now, and he already knows how crazy I am about him. Wait! Did I mention that he is incredibly handsome? I will never get tired of looking at his handsome face.

If I am making him sound like a prince and our relationship sounds like a fairy tale, that is not too far off. I consider his proposal one for the books: Ever since you stumbled into my life, quite literally. I have never been able to picture being without you. Will you marry me, Clumsy?

Jungkook, I was serious about what I told you in our vows:

I always want more time with you, Jungkook. I want more time with the guy who takes me to get ice cream in the winter. I want more time sipping beer in bed with my drinking buddy. Although I desire our time together to be endless, we cannot live forever. But as long as I am alive, as long as I am a person on this planet, I will continue to follow you wherever the road takes us. So let us walk it together, alright?

Your dependability and loyalty are the qualities that show you are the most extraordinary husband, the most extraordinary man, and will be the most remarkable father one day. I know you will lead our future family into a lifetime of happiness because that is where you have been leading mine for seven years. I know you will continue to do so.

I will wrap this up because I can go on and on about how you are the most genuine, non-self-oriented gift I could have received. So, thank you for being you. I hope for the day that I get to tell our children about the kind of man their father is, the man Jeon Jungkook is, and about the love story I am honoured to be a part of.

(P.S. That day I mentioned will be coming in approximately nine months!)

With all my love, Clumsy xo

[antizenin]

𑁤 TOUCHDOWN ON THAT PUSSY ⋮ GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU

a good way to celebrate the victory of a game is to have a sweet little treat right after.

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, satoru gojo & geto suguru, sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 5905 words !

➛ football player!gojo satoru & afab!reader (she/her) & football player!geto suguru, college football!au, threesome, some bantering on satosugu's part, teasing, oral through the panties, dry humping and groping, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, nipple play, oral (female & male receiving), cum eating, satosugu kiss, not proofread, etc.

Gojo has a promising future ahead of him as he dashes across the football field on the ten second mark. He can’t hear a thing underneath his heavy football helmet, but everyone’s screaming is getting louder as they stand on the bleachers and egging him closer to touchdown. He’s unstoppable. His teammates back him up as they prevent the opposing team from laying a finger on him and if they get too close, Gojo’s an extraordinaire at ducking and dodging. 

An absolute fiend he is, blazing through the bright green grass like the roadrunner, swift on his feet as he’s so close to victory. His coach was right, the Racers were no joke as they gave them their most difficult game in the season. Now they’re at neck-and-neck, tied at 15. His team is depending on him to break this tie, to keep their winning streak going strong and he’d hate to disappoint.

The audience battles between watching the clock and the field, the six ticking down to a five. 

Five… They’re starting to have their doubts, dread creeping into their bones as they begin to believe he’s not going to make it. Knuckles turning white as Gojo continues to speed with the ball in his hand. 

Four… Someone is gaining up on him, only a few inches away from tackling him down until he’s beat down. There’s a stagger on his feet before he picks up the same moment. Three… Tw— It happens in a matter of a split second. With a force that could cause it to deflate, Gojo throws the ball down with his entire strength as he cheers, screaming through the helmet before the huge buzzer overhead goes off and blaring into plenty of ears. 

Their moment of apprehension is replaced with exhilaration as Gojo pulls off his helmet, revealing his white head of beautiful hair, shaking it as sweat beads down his face. His teammates all come to surround him, his coach getting into the mix as they use all of their strength to throw him in the air. The opposing side mopes, heading to their side as they grab their towels and huddle around each other. While disappointment fills their lungs as their coach tries to give words of wisdom, the other party celebrates.

It’s always been overwhelming, moments like this— especially one so big. Soon Gojo will be drafted, leaving college football to go professional and make it within the NFL. There’s already lots of chatter and noise as many people anticipate it. It feels incredulous, though he always expected it. He worked so hard for it and knew he deserved the best, but for it to become closer to him? It feels immaculate to see your dreams coming true before your eyes. They’ve happened to him aplenty, when he graduated high school and got drafted the first time. It closely resembles this, that tight feeling within his chest that’s suffocating him and close to putting him on the brink of death. 

To get to that spot right into the college he’s been wanting to attend since the moment he figured out what he wanted to pursue in life. Everything he put his eye on and decided he wanted, he got it. To know it was through his hard work and dedication to get here, it brings a huge smile on his face.

However, to say he did it all alone would be a lie and a huge disrespect to Geto's name. His close friend stuck with him through it all, holding the same ambitions simultaneously. He put in the same work as Gojo did, landing them both a spot on the same team.The one to pass him the ball and assisting in their victory. The duo was a force to be reckoned with— undeniably good with each other. 

The crowd slowly dissipated around Gojo, finally giving him the space he needed to catch his breath properly. Though, said friend and his coach stayed behind. Gojo extends his arms to be pulled into a tight hug. A retired player himself, the coach engulfs Gojo in pride and happiness for the youth. A burly chuckle that leaves his lips. “Proud of ya, son. You’re one of the strongest I’ve got blessed to work with—” Gesturing to Geto, he drags him into the hug as well. “— You, too, boy! You’ve both made me so proud.”

“Thank you, coach,” they say in unison. 

Out of the helmet, a few strands of Geto’s raven locks have left the band of his bun, the sweat making it stick to his head as he swipes them away. “We probably would’ve gotten our ass handed to us if it weren’t for you.”

“Well, ain’t that damn right!” his coach laughs. “Your football careers would’ve probably ended before they even officially started.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gojo jests, hands resting behind his head as he grins widely. “I’d’ve been fine without you.”

Slapping him in the back of his head as Gojo winces his pain, his coach chortles. “Your ass would’ve been in the ground, for sure, with that cocky attitude of yours.”

The coach leaves not too long afterwards before someone’s walking past the bleachers and onto the football field. You weren’t easily spotted at first, maneuvering yourself past hurdles of men as you can only muster up so many “excuse me’s” before you’re tired of the repetition. You’re wearing one of Satoru’s jerseys that he got tailored to fit you just right, it is hugging you and your curves that the football players that want to ogle are immediately deterred they see the number of just who you belong to. Geto spots you first, the white-haired man has his back turned as he grabs a few of his things and is ready to head to the locker room before he’s being nudged. “Your trophy’s arrived.”

Knowing exactly who he’s talking about, Gojo spins on his heel right as you’re easier to make out through the shortening distance. That boyish smile that graces his features as he turns into an absolute fool when you’re in his sights. He goes to close the gap, jogging to close it even sooner. You pick up your pace, landing in his arms as you’re quickly engulfed by his sweaty form. You inhale his scent, accustomed to the sweaty musk after a game. He plants a chaste kiss against your neck, humming as his grip tightens.

“You were great out there,” you breathe, arms wrapping around his neck before he detaches himself from yours. “It’s probably the best you’ve ever played.”

“Thanks, babe,” you murmurs, pulling you into a kiss. “Could’ve done infinitely better if you were out there on the field with me.”

You roll your eyes. “You don’t get tired of that stale joke, do you?”

“Because I’m not joking,” he pouts. “If I got to chase after your fine ass out there, we would’ve beat them much faster than we did.”

Pinching his arm so that he can put you down, you immediately go to fix your shirt. You exhale, “Well, you have Geto out there with you. He’s got a nice bubble butt just for you to chase.”

Grimacing, Geto frowns as you come to approach him. He extends his arms to pull you in his embrace. “I don’t think I like your form of objectification. Can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah,” Gojo agrees. “I don’t think I like your admittance that you’ve checked out my best friend.”

The hug between you and Geto lasts a little longer than it should, though shorter than your embrace with Gojo. Pulling away from the heat that Geto enfolds you in, you push at his chest as you giggle, kissing Gojo’s pouting cheek in reassurance. Your hands wrap around his waist, one lingering to his ass as you give it a few pats. “Don’t worry, babes. I prefer yours, anyway.” 

The field is diminishing as the three of you linger, the boys getting their things together. You planned on waiting for them not too far along, hanging with a bunch of your girl friends in a group, so that you can feel safer before you leave. Gojo comes to peck your lips once more. “I’ll message you when we’re ready, ‘kay?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Call or text me if you need anything,” he presses.

“Of course, I will,” you assure him, puckering up your lips some more for more affection that he’s glad to give. With a few more farewells before he lets you leave, you’re throwing Geto a temporary goodbye before you’re sauntering down the field again, your hips swaying with every step you take. The two boys watch you leave before Geto’s glancing at Gojo. “Have you told her?”

He knows his best friend all too well, aware that he can prolong things to the absolute last second. And just as he suspected, Gojo shakes his head. “Nah, not yet.”

However, it still brings him to shock that he’d do it for something like this. Something you might not even agree to. “Why not?”

“Because I thought it would be a nice surprise,” he shrugs, his nonchalance picking at Geto’s annoyance. Makes it sexier.”

“What if she says no?”

“She won’t.”

“Satoru,” Geto digs, crossing his arms as the two finally make their way to the locker room. He can be such a cocky asshole sometimes, so sure of himself until he’s hearing the word ‘no’ and feeling like a fool. And in this case, Geto can also be one if you end up disagreeing. 

“She won’t! I promise you,” Gojo continues reassuring his best friend. He’s seen the way you interact with Geto. You’ve admitted your attraction towards the long-haired brunette before, when he vaguely tried to get your opinion on the proposition of a threesome with him. He never coined the term exactly, but he assumed that through your attraction, it would be something you’re interested in. “I know my girl better than anything. She’s down.”

Geto sighs as he decides to put his trust into Gojo instead of making the decision to delay things in itself. He’s said it before. I know my girl better than anything. While Gojo’s been wrong on plenty of things, so far, when it comes to you, Gojo’s an expert. Punching his arm to elicit a wince, white eyebrows furrowing before glaring at Geto. He doesn’t have to verbally say it, What was that for? 

Geto points in his face, brown eyes boring holes into Gojo’s blue. “You better be right because I’ll beat your ass if you’re not.”

—

From Gojo: hey, the locker room is empty now. just me and geto. come.

You furrow your eyebrows reading Geto’s name. Typically when the locker room is empty, it’s an open invite for sex. And if another person’s in there, it’s not entirely empty as he says it is.

To Gojo: geto?

Immediately, Gojo’s typing in. Three dots bouncing before your phone is vibrating in your hand once more.

From Gojo: just come. wanna talk about something with u

“Hey,” you call for the attention of the girls that around you at a picnic table. They were all nice to stay with you for the time being. “Gojo said he’s ready. I’m gonna go meet up with him.”

“Do you want us to come with?” one of them asks, eyes brightening up as she comes to stand. However, shaking your head, you stop her.

“No, I’m fine from here. Thank you so much, though!” you bid your farewells, showing your gratitude to them repetitively as you walk off. Then, you’re met with the silence of the night, hearing the chirps of cicadas and crickets deep in the grass and the sizzling of the overhead lights illuminating your path as the sky begins to darken. It’s getting chilly as you hold yourself, the short-sleeved jersey and the tight denim jeans barely doing a thing to conceal you and give you warmth. 

When you arrive at the locker room door, you know in a specific rhythm that immediately lets Gojo know that you’re here. Shortly enough, the door swings open as Gojo’s standing before you, dressed down in a pair of baggy gym shorts that stop below his knees and a muscle tee. He pulls you in by the waist, kissing you quickly and leading a path towards Geto. He sports a similar fit to Gojo’s, just replace the shirt with a regular band one. His hair back in a neater bun as he leans against the lockers, arms crossed and one leg on one of the seats. There’s a shift within the air as Gojo sits down next to his leg, making you cock an eyebrow as you grow nervous. “What’s up? Is something the matter?”

“No,” Gojo denies. “Nothing’s wrong. Just need to ask me something.”

“Ask me what?” The tension in the air nips at your skin, bringing you to a comfort that you don’t like. Noticing this, Gojo puts his hand in yours, pulling you down onto his lap to put his lips on yours to ease it. Geto can only watch, shifting to hide the impending erection just in case this goes left. His moist pink lips on yours are sweet. They always are. Making you addicted to them and has you whining when he pulls away. 

“You trust me, right?” Gojo’s blue eyes stare into yours, searching for something that you can’t quite define. Yet, you nod because you do. You always have. “And you know that if you don’t want this, you can say no, right?”

“Want what—”

“If Geto were to kiss you right now,” Gojo interjects. “How’d you feel?”

“‘Toru,” you look at him in confusion, refusing to look over at Geto. “What are you getting at?”

“Man,” Geto finally speaks up. “I told you, you should’ve—”

However, he’s cut off with a hush from Gojo before his focus is right back to you. He takes a deep breath as you’re trying to get a hold of what’s happening before you. Your mind is going to a few possibilities before you land on the right one. But, in denial, you wait for Gojo to continue speaking. “If he were to touch you—” his hands start traveling all over you, from your shoulders down to your thighs to in between your stomach and to in between the crevices of your breasts. Your heart rate starts to increase as well as your breathing as you finally muster up the courage to glance over at Geto, whose eyes are already on you. “—touch you in the way I do. Make you feel good in the way, er, close to the way I do… Would you want that?”

Your eyes haven’t left Geto’s, mind finally wrapping around the current proposition. “You want a threesome?”

Glancing over at his friend, Gojo nods. “Yeah, we’ve talked about it, but we won’t do it if you don’t want to. If you say no—”

“No,” you say so abruptly before you’re sputtering on your words as Gojo’s immediately caught off guard. “Wait, I mean, yes. I agree.”

It takes a moment for either man to register that you’re agreeing to this. That you want to have a threesome. Gojo chokes out a laugh, a grin gracing his features. “You had me on a rollercoaster for a second.” 

“Sorry,” you apologize sheepishly. Geto inches closer to the two of you, hand pushing at the back of Gojo’s head. 

“Guess you were right,” the corners of his lips twitching upwards. “You do know your girl.”

— 

You never took your attraction towards Geto seriously. He was a sweet guy and often people have told you that you should’ve gone for him instead of Gojo. However, you have a type. And while Geto is an angel and if you were to date him, he’d treat you like royalty, you know Gojo’s the one for you. That’s why Gojo has so much trust in you. Knowing that despite it all, you’ll still run to him after this. That despite Geto’s hands on you right now, your back leans against him and holding onto his wrist as he’s got you secure in his hold.

His cock is painfully hard in his gym shorts, pressing into your back as you’re slouched off the seat. Gojo’s hand is snaked under your jersey, your bra hiked over your breasts as they’re pooled out for his enjoyment. Your breathing is heavy, dark nipples puckered and being played with. You’ve let out breathy moans and squeaky whines as the two men are determined to tease you to death. Despite your pleas, Geto continues to play with your pussy through the fabric of your panties, watching how it darkens as your juices soak through it. His thumb would prod at your clit, pressing down as your arousal keeps on coming and pushing through. Your sweet cunt would throb and clench for more, thighs tensing up as the boys sought after your torture. 

Your back arches as you plead, begging Geto to do more. “Please, Sug. Please.”

Then Gojo moves one hand to play with the band of your pants, the hem continuously snapping against your skin as your boyfriend lets Geto continue his teasing. Geto would be a liar to say he’s doing all of this because he loves to see you whine and writh from what he’s doing, but truthfully, it’s not. While he loves seeing how you get so worked up, he enjoys seeing how your pussy can develop so much slick. The bubbles that it forms as you’re just secreting so much that it comes to mess in between your thighs whenever you tighten them together to the point he has to pry your legs open once more. He should stop, his cock painfully hard and wanting nothing more than to empty himself inside of you, but no. Impatience never leads to anything good. 

It feels so good, having you buck your hips out, pressing your body into him and squirming around. You don’t know what you’re doing to your boyfriend, rubbing against your boyfriend in your lust-fogged mind as you can’t focus on the erection against your back. He wants nothing more than to have you. Fuck that tight pussy of yours and have his fill, but he won’t dare be too hasty for the sake of his best friend. The one down on his knees messing with your pussy as if it were a toy, resembling a cat. But, he himself is growing impatient and he’s afraid that with you pressed into him like this, he’s going to cum prematurely. 

“C’mon, Sug,” he emphasizes your nickname for Geto. “Give my girl what she wants.”

“Is that why your girl is such a spoiled brat?” the brunette chuckles. “Always giving into what she wants?”

You whine and pout at him Geto. “‘m not—”

“Yeah,” Gojo agrees, turning your head to face him and planting a chaste kiss on your lips. “Maybe if you were more giving, you’d have a girl already.”

You find it obnoxious how even in a moment like this, they find a way to banter with each other. It makes you frown as you jut your hip out forward. “Stop arguing and do something already.”

Finally does Geto inch in closer to your pussy, fingers prodding at the hem of your panties, but not moving it. You can feel his breath against your covered cunt, breathing steadily while you feel like an erratic mess. “And there you go proving me right,” he chuckles. 

His tongue presses against your core, not removing your panties as you hoped, but he presses into your cunt deep that it tickles your folds and has you jolting in Gojo’s arms. You can hear a soft fuck leave Gojo’s lips as he bucks his hips out. Hooded eyelids with his sapphire blue eyes peering down at you as yours are shut now. 

Your braids tickle his bare skin, and surely a bit disheveled at the naughty actions you’re partaking in tonight. However, he can ignore the scratching as he watches Geto enjoy the taste of your pussy, sucking up your slick through the fabric of your panties. It’s a lewd sight that he can’t help but chuckle at, pushing you more into his tongue as Geto’s arms come to grip your thighs and pull you closer to the edge. 

One hand traverses to press a thumb into your clit while he laps at your panties, sucking at it hard to drag your juices out of it. You never thought you’d have found it so hot for a man to eat you out like this, it's enough being able to have you moaning like this. Your folds feel sticky as you leak and leak into your underwear. However, it’s still not enough, your body begging and aching for more to be done to you. You throw your head back, it nearly bangs into Gojo’s as you whimper out. You manage to maneuver a leg around Geto’s shoulder, bringing him closer to your core.

He’s addicted to your taste already, moaning as he feels you wrap yourself around him, slotted in between you and your boyfriend’s legs. Grunting and groaning, his cock strains inside his pants, his pre staining his boxers and surely to show through his shorts. For a girl that’s not even his to have him feeling this way, addicted off of something— someone— that’s not his. 

“Fuck,” he pulls himself off of you, leaving you unsatisfied and wanting more. He pulls your legs off him rather abruptly as he comes to his feet. He doesn’t have to say a word to Gojo, one of his hands already disappearing into the band of your panties to shove two fingers inside of you. It has you screaming out in the locker room, your cries echoing loudly. They can only hope and pray that the janitors on the night shift don’t come inside anytime soon to stop them. 

The stretch is somewhat painful, Gojo’s fingers are long and they hit deep inside of you, touching at your g-spot. He’s easy on you as Geto shuffles with his pants, pulling at the tie and letting it drop to the ground along with his underwear. His cock springs free, hitting his abdomen. He differs from Gojo, where your boyfriend has more length to him, Geto has more girth. His shaft is darker, a fat cock that is slightly over the average. His balls hang heavy as his happy trail is carefully trimmed and is wavy. The only thing you can say that the two resemble is that they’re both cut, no mushroom head to fill you up. 

He inches towards you. The fingers stuffed inside you start to move, your walls wrapping around them greedily as your pussy is so responsive. Your juices pooling down to the base of his fingers and dripping down at the palm of his hands and trickling his wrists. It’s a reason why he loves your pussy so much, so reactive and always soaked. 

Geto’s hand wraps around his length, using his pre to spread it around as he pumped it a few times. With his free hand, he comes to caress your cheek, pulling your head closer to him as he pets and touches you. Your skin his smooth, feeling the short and soft hairs as you react immediately to his soft touch. You relax in Geto’s hold as his cock’s so close to your face, pumping himself that your eyes flicker from his down to his length and back. 

“Look at you,” he says, his voice always so smooth that it could talk someone into murder. “Such a pretty little thing looking to get fucked by another man, one wasn’t enough.”

Gojo clears his throat, but Geto scoffs. “Don’t ruin the moment. Remember, you’re the one to first suggest it to me.”

That piece of information sparks your attention that Geto notices it. He chuckles, his hand grabbing at your chin and forcing you to look up at him even more. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Your boyfriend here wanted to see you get ruined by another man. He’s just as nasty as you are.”

You clench around Gojo’s fingers, a coil forming in your stomach as you try to look back at your beloved. However, Geto forces you to look at him. “Aht aht, look at me, dear. Look at the man that’s gonna stuff your face full of his cock.”

His tip kisses your bottom lip first, smearing his translucent pre on them before he props to the opening. Your mouth opens, but not enough for it to fit. You look up into his brown eyes, purposely teasing as you lick a small stripe on his tip. He shudders at the sensation, but his voice doesn’t falter when he says, “Don’t be stubborn. Open up some more.”

“Oh, just like you made me wait,” your retort has Gojo chuckling, him moving a few of your braids to whisper in your ear, “Oh, be a good girl for Suguru, babe.”

His fingers press deep into your then, having you immediately dropping the act as you mewl and quickly coming to obey your boyfriend’s words. Opening your mouth wider for Geto, the head comes to rest on your tongue as you lull it out. He tsks at your obedience for your boyfriend, finding it cute yet annoying in a circumstance like this. “If I remember correctly, you were the one to agree to this.”

Then, he shoves his cock inside of you, hitting the back of your throat to make you gag and tear up. Your cry out is muffled as you’re forced to take the whole of him before he’s pulling out completely. “So, like your boyfriend said,” he pants. “Be a good girl for me, babe.”

Shortly after is the sound of squelching heard, Gojo’s fingers starting to rapidly fuck into your pussy, the impact of his fingers inside of you, creating such a lewd sound in the night. In another hour, the lights will go pitch dark, so the three of you better be done by then unless you all plan on fucking in it. Your juices pour from your pussy, sticky strings forming simultaneously as Geto enters your mouth once more. 

This time, he’s easier on you, the bottom of his shaft, grazing your tongue as his balls come to hit at your chin when the base hits your lips. He stays there for a moment, adjusting you to him before he feels your mouth closing around him completely. Your face is becoming teary-stained as you momentarily shut them before they flutter back open, the sting not dissipating, however.

You moan around his length, your tongue flattening out against the bottom of his shaft as it comes to swirl around it. You try to focus on his cock while your boyfriend obliterates your pussy with his fingers, bucking your hips into him while doing so in a visceral need. You grind down into him as one hand comes to hold onto Geto’s waist as you slowly begin to bob your head. Geto hisses at the sight before him, looking down on you as he comes to wipe away some of your tears with his thumb. 

You look so pretty like this. Laid up against your boyfriend who’s got you weak in the knees as he fucks into your pussy with his digits. Your sweet nectar dripping down onto the bench and floor as you make a mess of yourself and him. How you manage to stay so level headed keeping up the pace of sucking Geto’s cock, breathing in through your nose as you moan out and send vibrations that go straight to his cock. You’re a dirty little vixen, taking them both like this. It makes the brunette want to cum inside your mouth and your boyfriend wants this to last forever.

His cock’s grown sensitive under the restraints of his pants, pressed into him and rutting like the needy girl that you are. He’s held himself back for so long that he just can’t anymore. His fingers leave you, making you a needy mess as you whine in an attempt to ask for him back. However, he’s lifting you up, pushing you deeper against Geto’s cock and forcing you to take his entire length in your mouth. Still, you behave so well that you continue to suck at it despite it hitting the back of your throat. 

Gojo pulls down his pants and boxer briefs, letting them pool at his feet in a hurry to have himself completely sheathed inside you. Cock bearing free, the tip is red and angry with need that he doesn’t make haste in pulling you down onto him. First, you feel his length against your folds, how he’s grabbing at your hips and bringing you up and down. He glides his length in between your pussy lips, coating it in your juices in preparation before he brings his tip at your entrance, holding his cock to gently push in.

Geto eases himself, pulling you off his cock to watch you adjust to your boyfriend. Watching how your face twists and contorts in pain as you sink down on his length, taking inch by inch. You whimper and pant at the stretch, still holding onto Geto as your nails dig into his skin. When you’re fully sheathed, taking every last bit of Gojo, you’re taking heavy breaths as your boyfriend plants kisses along your neck. “I know, I know,” he whispers into your ears. “You did so good for me.”

“Feel so full,” you babble out, whining out as Gojo’s hands are at your waist, starting to bob you up and down on his length. It’s then that Geto’s back inside your mouth, taking control as he knows that you’ll now be unable to focus. He grabs a handful of your braids, pulling your mouth onto his cock. Eyes mouth shut as you moan out at both intrusions, you let your body be used for their pleasure. Your body bouncing as both men fuck into you. All that can be heard is their moans against the slapping of skin and your muffled noise. Your hands are digging so much into Geto’s skin that you might draw blood, but he can’t find it within himself to care when you’re making him feel so good. 

“Shit,” he curses, eyes shut as his mouth hangs open, hips rutting into your mouth. Saliva begins to drip from the corners as his fingers dig into your scalp, both hands preoccupied in them. Gojo’s lips are on your bare skin as he uses his strength to fuck you onto him, your pussy clenching around him as the slapping of skin sounds the entire locker room. The stench of your pussy fills their air, your smell so potent that Gojo recognizes it within a matter of seconds. It has his chest grumbling out as if he’s a feral animal, burying his nose deep into your skin as he sucks into it. 

Your pussy clenches and pulsates as you didn’t know it’d feel so good to be used like this, thinking that the videos you’ve seen of women being railed by two men to be an act. However, Geto and Gojo’s doing such a good job, ten times better than what you’ve seen before. Saliva pools heavily in your mouth, escaping it and pouring down your chin as you can barely keep your eyes open. Your mind is filled with everything dirty, not managing to stay focused on a single one as a familiar band reaches you. 

Your moans become more high-pitched and you start slapping Geto’s side. Gojo curses the signs heavily there. “S-shit,” he stutters as he feels himself twitch inside you, his orgasm approaching him as well. “She’s gonna cum.”

Geto doesn’t say anything, only fucking into your mouth harder and egging on Gojo as his thrusts up into you become brutal. Your sounds become choppy as he brings you into a quick release, your cream coating his cock in a matter of seconds as he continues fucking with a vigor. The tears that Geto wiped away are back as your sensitive folds become overworked as Gojo doesn’t stop until he’s relieved himself inside you. 

His leg tenses up before that sweet cunt of yours is milking him, flexing and contracting as your mouth is full of Geto’s load inside of you. He pants heavily as he watches your body convulse the longer Gojo stays inside you. It’s as if the three of your bodies were in sync with each other. Gojo emptying himself in you to the brim that his seed starts pushing him out. He drags you off his cock and pulls you back into him further as he can no longer stay upright. He brings you to lay against his back with him and it’s such a sight to behold that Geto’s cock hardens again in a manner of seconds. Your cunt is open and spread, just his for the taking. He can’t help himself for falling onto his knees and pushing you open.

Feeling him against both of you, you and Gojo bring your heads up to see Geto right at your cunt. It takes you too long to process, unable to utter a word and only able to cry out when you feel his lips enveloping your labia. Your folds were covered in yours and Gojo’s cum, a delicacy he wanted to try and uncaring for the man that laid claim on your cunt with his seed. Take it as him cleaning you up, a thank you for letting him have you in such a vulnerable way. 

You jolt in Gojo’s arms, but he holds you tight, his cock hardening once more himself as he watches his best friend eat away at both of your releases. You’re sensitive, he knows, but fuck is this hot. You thrash in his arms, crying out but never saying no. The only thing Gojo does to soothe you are the sweet kisses and an infinite circle drawn into your skin, telling you that you can take this. Geto doesn’t pull away until your cunt is shining and gets rid of the white.

Gojo’s eyes dilate as he’s back to sitting up and caught into the spur of the moment, catching Geto off guard when he says, “let me have a taste,” before his mouth is on him and he can taste himself and you on his best friend’s lips. You find yourself stuck in between the homoerotic scene shared amongst the two best friends, your body humming back to life that you mewl out. It’s long before they’re pulling away, pink tongues dancing against each other as the flavor is embedded into their taste buds.

Heavy panting and breathing as none of you say a word, simply digesting everything that happened. However, the jingle of keys are enough to have you all rejuvenated with energy as the door swings open. The unsuspecting voice calling out as they still see that the lights are on and a few bags thrown down haphazardly. They must’ve been wearing headphones to not hear the raunchy actions taking place prior. 

“Hello,” a voice of a man in his late forties. “Is anyone here?”

[the-darklings]

Oh god please write the timebomb fic!!! (or several lol)

ೀ pairing: ekko/jinx

ೀ wc: 5k

ೀ summary: "Always a dance with you, huh?" Or: two years after the battle versus Noxus, Ekko receives an unexpected visitor.

ೀ author notes: ask and you shall receive!!! I wrote this in one sitting in some weird ass haze and barely edited it, but this is the most fun I had in a long while so I hope you enjoy!!!

ೀ read it on ao3 | listen to the playlist

The first few days after the battle, Ekko doesn’t rest. He barely sleeps or eats, or allows himself time to think. 

He can’t. 

There’s too much to do. The dead are in their dozens. His Firelights took a major hit, and he knows that for the next few months his fingers will be numb from painting their pictures on the mural day in and out. So many who could have lived but didn’t. So many could have had better futures. But if he just runs, if he keeps pushing on, he can outrun these regrets and his grief, too. This way, he doesn’t remember Vi’s heartbroken expression when she pulled him into a bone-crushing hug after the fight, blood and sweat still clinging to her, her words choked when she told him—

Four seconds. 

He could have saved her. He would have hauled her snarky ass out of that tunnel, ripped that bomb from her hands. He would have—

He runs from those thoughts, too. They suffocate him, and Ekko has too much to fix to be suffocated by his grief right now. 

He sure as hell didn’t fight for Piltover. He fought for Zaun, for Firelights. Because he knew Ambessa Medarda would never settle for anything other than complete subjugation. She would have destroyed Ekko’s home. She was already busy murdering and imprisoning their people, and nothing but complete eradication would have followed in her wake. 

Ekko did it for… her. The blue-haired symbol of defiance, of uprising. A loud declaration that they won’t live under Piltover’s oppression forever, that they’ll reach greater things one day and won’t be silenced. They won’t wait for permission to breathe again. It’s what she would have wanted, he convinces himself, even though part of him knows Jinx would have enjoyed the chaos of the fight more. Or maybe not. Not since that little girl. Not since he had to save her from herself over and over again, only to lose her anyway. 

Undercity mourns her. Her visage is everywhere. Jinx the Saviour. She would have hated it, he thinks wryly. She never got to see just how loved she was. 

Maybe he should have grabbed her and ran away. Maybe he should have let the world go to hell and saved her instead. The thought, born of fatigue, lingers only for a few fleeting seconds, a rare moment of selfishness amidst a day spent fixing the world around him. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe. If only he had tried harder when they were kids and saved her from Silco. If only he didn’t give up on her. 

She’s always been his biggest maybe. And now they’ll never be more. Not this version of them. Never him and her as they were. 

Aw, are you gonna mope now, boy saviour?

“You’re not here.”

It punches clean through his chest. The realisation of it. The sheer, horrible weight. He’ll never see her again. 

Constants and variables, Benzo told him once. Constants and variables, young Ekko.

A week after the battle versus Noxus, Ekko sinks to his knees inside his room, exhausted and heartbroken, and sobs. 

.

Things begin to settle. Slowly, at first, the city might have been gutted after the battle but not destroyed, the morale low but hopeful. Hexgates are gone, and Ekko is glad when he finds out. He doesn’t want to see or hear anything about the arcane for a while. No magic in the world could fix the pain festering in his chest. 

Sevika, Silco’s old second-in-command and once his sworn enemy, comes to him two weeks after the attack. 

“They’re making me a council member,” she says, grunting when she falls into the tiny wooden chair inside his room. 

She’s always been a threatening figure, power rippling from every shift of her body, but Ekko isn’t sure he wants to fight anyone right now. Nor does she seem interested in strangling him. She lights a cigarette, her scarred features set in a fearsome scowl. 

“And?” he asks for anything better to say. “How is that any of my business?”

Sevika exhales through her nose, reminding him of an angry bull, all smoke and steely resolve. “I’m the only one presenting Zaun or her interests.” 

Ekko almost rolls his eyes. Of course she is. The Council is simply falling over themselves to fix the situation. After months of harassment and oppression, false arrestments and beatings, they asked them to bleed for Piltover and its interests with nothing but the bare minimum courtesy extended towards them afterwards.

“I could use you, kid,” Sevika continues, and Ekko forces his anger away, loosening his fists. “Exactly for that reaction. You’re smart as hell, and been a pain in my ass for years. Pilties will try to walk all over us again in a few months’ time. You and I both know it. We gotta beat them in their own game. Not let them silence us again. I could use someone like you. Be my adviser. You’ll have a direct line to the Council. We’ll make an actual change. It’s better than whatever this is.”

Ekko’s expression sours at her words while Sevika’s gaze flicks around his room in contemplation. He works all day to a point of exhaustion, then passes out. It’s the only way he’s been able to continue, day in and day out. Being in a leadership position means you can’t take time off to grieve. Too many people are relying on him. It’s bad enough that he accidentally abandoned his people for months without meaning to. The guilt he still feels over everything has been nearly suffocating. 

It’s a good gig, hero! You should do it and be a thorn in her side.

Ekko blinks the flash of blue from his vision, rubbing his brow just as Sevika adds: “It’s what she would have wanted, you know.”

A jolt of electricity runs through him. Everyone, even Vi, has been avoiding mentioning Jinx in front of him.  

His jaw clenches. “You don’t know that.”

“Kid, I know what not letting go looks like,” she says, and it almost sounds compassionate, or as close to it as someone like her can get. “We had our differences in the past, I know as much—”

“You killed my people,” Ekko snaps. “Do you know how many lives you destroyed with Shimmer?”

“Sure do,” she replies listlessly, smoke billowing past her lips. “I won’t try to justify my actions to you. But y’know, when you were gone, Jinx united Zaun in a way I haven’t seen since Vander. Beats me how she did it, but people believed in her. Even your Firelights.”

It mirrors everything he’s seen and heard for weeks. Jinx freeing their people, Jinx the Saviour, the beacon for their new future. The one who set and lived by extreme examples, who made Piltover back off and take the Undercity seriously. Because they all finally realised that there can never be peace without a fight. She should be here to fight this battle with him. Ekko should be busy arguing with her that blowing up another building will not make things right. He shouldn’t be walking around with her ghost a step behind him, tormenting him with ideas of what could and should have been. 

“And now she’s dead!”

His ears ring, his chest heaves, and he clutches his thudding heart, willing it back in its cage. He didn’t mean to come undone so easily. 

“Yeah. Yeah, she is,” Sevika says, and there’s a grimness to her when she says it, an unexpected pain buried somewhere deep in her gruff voice that makes Ekko see her differently. “I get it.”

“No,” he whispers, pained. “You don’t.”

.

Seven months pass before Ekko finally picks up a brush for her. 

He sleeps better at night but not without nightmares. Not without remembering Powder from the alternative universe and how they danced. How sweet her kiss felt. Not without that memory smearing to finding Jinx with a grenade in her hand, again, ready to disappear, go somewhere he could never reach her. 

Ekko still hears the detonation in his ears, over and over, on a sickening loop. His mind likes to torture him with ideas he failed to save her. That no matter what he does, or how he mends time, she’s forever out of reach. His blue beacon, his lighthouse he can never find in the depthless ocean of reality. 

Many have drawn her, but he still thinks that no one knows the exact hue of her hair or the wicked shine in her eyes better than him. He’s spent an entire lifetime examining them, looking for them in a sea of thousands. 

Their city is rebuilding. He agreed to Sevika’s request after a few days of contemplation. Caitlyn Kiramman’s expression when he ambled into the Council room was worth the additional burden now on his shoulder. But she’s changed too, matured, and now fills her position as the Council’s leader well. 

Ekko won’t forget how she allowed his friends to be imprisoned, tortured, and, in some cases, killed, but her regret made her side with him and Sevika more often than not during voting, and maybe he could at least one day forgive her. Another maybe. For Vi, if nothing else, who clearly loves the blue-haired woman fiercely. 

The barren wall stares at him. He’s painted Powder before, but this is different. One day, his friend, his dearest friend, was simply gone. Without a goodbye, in a wake of tragedy. The life Ekko once had disintegrated beneath his feet overnight. Benzo killed. Vander dead. Mylo and Claggor too. Vi died as well. Or so he believed for years. Powder was missing until a different knife was delivered to him weeks later, when the word on the street spread about Silco being seen with a little girl with blue hair. 

Ekko sighs, hanging his head. The city is healing, but he isn’t, or at least not as quickly. 

He runs his hand over the white wall, picturing Jinx as he saw her last, those precious hours between talking her down from the abyss and their joint attack on Noxian forces. It felt so good to rely on her again, to stand with her, side by side. As natural as breathing. 

You’re the order to my chaos, hero. 

“Leave me alone,” he says quietly, head hung low. “It’s been months.”

A figment of Jinx chortles, arms crossed over her chest as she leans back against the wall. You would get bored to death without me. Ha! Get it? 

Shooting a glare at her, Ekko picks up a brush, his fingers quivering. Tears burn in his eyes when he dips the brush into the paints he painstakingly mixed. He works, and works, until his eyes are dry and his wrist hurts. Ekko doesn’t stop until he loses light and when he steps back, he is looking at Jinx. Equal parts chaos and something ethereal. 

He wipes angrily across his mouth when he tastes saltiness pooling there and goes home. 

There’s no sleep that night. 

.

Time is a strange thing. It weaves and flows. Without his Z-Drive, he has no control over it. Time simply goes on, and he’s the passenger in a vehicle he doesn’t want to move. 

He’s important these days. He’s one of the few bright minds still left, and he’s endlessly busy with something. City of Progress needs every mind that can be spared. Wounds heal, and time dulls the memory, but not everything is so easily forgotten. Piltover moves quicker, but the Undercity erects a statue for Jinx beside Vander’s. He sees Vi at the ceremony, and they exchange strained smiles. They speak sometimes, but it’s not as often as it used to be. They’re both dealing with their grief the best they can.

At least Vi has Cait. Ekko has nothing but a cold bed and purpose. 

He and Sevika make a good team. It almost makes him wonder what could have been in a universe where they were on the same side from the start. His Zaun, cracked but not broken, is resembling the bright version of the Zaun and Piltover he saw in the alternative verse. There're years of work still left, but there’s something like hope in him, fragile and misplaced as it might be. 

A year passes. Then two. He visits the graves; he lights candles for those lost. Some days Ekko sees her, other days he doesn’t. He hopes for a glimpse, even when he knows he shouldn’t. It should be easier to let go of what you never had, right? 

His mural for Jinx grows. Other faces join her, people who died believing in her, surrounding the one they placed their trust in. And, at the centre of it all, her, her, her. 

Still her. 

Always her. 

. 

He’s not sure what arouses him. He hasn’t slept well in years, perpetual exhaustion clinging to him like a shawl. Some would call it the weight of living, no doubt. 

There’s a shift in the air, a disturbance that’s not enough to make Ekko jolt awake and reach for a weapon, but enough to make his eyes flutter open. He breathes the cool air, pushing his grogginess away. 

There’s a shape at the foot of his bed. Small and round. It takes several seconds for his vision to adjust, for him to realise that a hooded figure sits perched on his bed, knees pulled to their chest.

Ekko hasn’t had to rely on his battle instincts in two years, but there’s enough left in him to attack without hesitation. His fingers tangle in the cloak, shoving the figure down, his knee pressing harshly into their abdominal, hands seeking the intruder’s throat—

“Wow, little man, you sure know how to roll out the welcoming mat,” the all too familiar voice drawls before his fingers tighten instinctively around the slender, warm throat. 

A haggard breath forces from Ekko’s parted mouth. In the wild struggle, the stranger’s hood has slipped down, revealing a familiar face with a startling crop of blue hair. His heart squeezes painfully, forcing him away from Jinx’s apparition. 

“Leave me alone,” he croaks, rubbing his eyes till his vision swims. “Just leave me alone! I don’t want to see you anymore!”

“Huh, fine. I thought after two years, the welcome would be a tad warmer. Brrr.”

Ekko pushes himself to his feet, stumbling away, watching warily as the young woman sits back up, picking at her messy hair. She looks different. A little older than Jinx from his visions or memories. Her hair is longer, though nowhere near the same length she once had braided into two twin braids. She swings her leg back and forth, another pulled up to her chest while she watches him. And… her eyes. Ekko was the last person to see her with blue eyes before their battle on the bridge. The last time he saw Jinx alive, they were a dangerous, burning violet. 

Now, even with the shade of the night, they’re a muddy mix between the blue he once knew, and the piercing violet that made her so deadly. As if that restless edge in her has calmed down and settled. 

Ekko’s chest heaves as he stumbles back a step. 

“Soooo—” she begins.

“You’re alive.”

Jinx shrugs her shoulders. “Yup. Clearly. In the flesh even,” she crows, but it’s more muted when compared to the wildness he once faced off against. 

His hand flies to his stomach, and Ekko distantly wonders if he’s about to throw up in front of a girl he’s spent his entire life loving. 

Mercifully, his stomach settles, but his heart beats so loudly he can hear the blood rushing in his skull. 

“You’re alive,” he repeats, harder this time. “It’s been two years.”

“Yeah.”

She doesn’t offer more than that, but there’s a shadow over her narrow face. She’s healthier. There’s more weight on her bones, her skin has lost some of the pallidness. As if someone took Powder and Jinx, split them clean down the middle, and fused them into one body. Stronger, more self-reassured, less teetering on the brink. 

“Would have written but mail is crappy where I was,” she jokes, her voice a familiar, drawling litany. “Besides, this is so much more mysterious—”

He closes the distance between them in two steps. His room isn’t big but he would have walked, ran, sprinted if needed to close the distance between them. His arms wrap around her and Ekko squeezes her so tightly he hears a small breath escape Jinx. She’s solid and warm. Smells faintly of sea and something metallic. Ekko buries his face in the soft crook of Jinx’s neck, gasping for breath. 

“Woah, hero, you’re gonna break my ribs,” she whispers, but her arms wind around him, more careful, unsure. “I thought you hated me?”

Even when he releases her, Ekko’s hands linger on her, go to her face, examining her through the crack of light illuminating his room. 

“I saw you,” he breathes, devastated. “I saw you everywhere. I hoped to see you everywhere.”

Something flickers over her face, an unknown thing, secretive and distant as she’s always felt to him. 

“Geez, seeing things? And they call me crazy.”

“You’re not crazy.”

There’s such vehemence in his voice it startles them both. Jinx nibbles on her inner cheek, searching his face cautiously. “I thought you’d be mad.”

Ekko laughs, a low huff of amusement. “Do you think I care for you so little, huh?”

Too late he realises he’s without a shirt, and is, in fact, mostly bare before the girl he’s harboured a crush on for years. Near boyish shyness forces Ekko back, making him clear his throat. His hands tremble when he reaches for a discarded t-shirt, hoping it doesn’t smell bad when he pulls it over his head. When he glances at her over his shoulder, Jinx is still there, still watching him, though there’s a thoughtful air around her. 

When she notices him looking, she offers him a sarcastic grin.

“No need to get shy, stud.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles.

He plops down on his unmade bed, watching her watch him. Her face is half hidden by her arms propped on her bent knee, but the silence between them isn’t awkward. They’re taking each other in, taking in the changes that have touched them both in the last two years.

“Why come back now?” he asks, eventually. 

Jinx blinks, near feline-like, dropping her head back to stare at his ceiling as if it may offer an answer. “I’m a crappy friend, but not that crappy. Happy birthday, wonder boy.”

There’s a creak in his heart, a lightness in his ribcage, a balloon of affection despite their troubled history that inflates just for her. “You remember my birthday?”

She makes a sound at the back of her throat. Glances at him from the corner of her eye. “Well, we picked it together, silly, so sure I do.” Shadows fall over her features when she angles her head away. “I… I never thought I would come back—that it was better this way.”

“I’m glad you did.”

Something close to a smile ghosts over her face at his response. Ekko can’t rip his gaze away from her. He fears that if he does, he’ll wake up and she’ll be gone again, and he’ll have to relive the agony of losing her again. 

“Does Vi—”

“No. No. And it’s better this way.”

“But—”

“Drop it, Ekko. Please.”

He does. Because this is too good to be true, and he doesn’t want this to end. Emotions mix inside him, battling for dominance, so he sits there, letting them all wash over him. 

“You’ve been busy,” she says abruptly, nodding her head in the general direction of the outside world. “Their new wonder boy. I’m not surprised. You’ve always been good at creating things. Good things.”

“And you’ve always been good at fixing them,” he says. 

Ekko thinks back on the countless times she helped him to fix up old rubbish others have discarded and sell them in Benzo’s shop as small treasures. It feels, now, like a lifetime ago. In a sense, it has been. 

She snorts; it’s an ugly, hateful sound. “Not always.”

There’s weight to how she says it. Pain lingers in each syllable, more so a whispered confession. She’s thinking of others, those lost through accidents or her own direct involvement. 

“I’m sorry about Isha,” Ekko says carefully, thumb pressing into the hollow of his bare knee. He itches to take her hand, to smooth his thumb over her knuckles instead, but he doesn’t. She’s never been his to touch. “Vi told me about her.”

Jinx shrinks, turning away and he mentally curses. A sore spot even years later. Understandably so. 

“I… shit. Sorry.”

“What’s with the long face?” she exclaims suddenly, jumping to her feet and twirling. Her hands drop to her hips and she grins at him, all mischief. “C’mon, we gotta get out of here.”

Ekko squints. “Uh, what?”

“It’s your birthday, silly,” she says, like it should be obvious. “We’re going to spend the day together.”

.

Jinx keeps her hood up, her gait steady. Any sign of blue tucked away. She’s changed her attire to draw less attention, and as they walk in the hazy dawn light towards the bridge separating the sister cities, it feels almost normal. Casual. Not at all like the last time they spoke, they were about to fight side by side in a battle for their lives. Not at all like he spent two years thinking she’s dead. That still stings, but knowing how she felt back then, the state she was in before he talked her down from the edge, the pain she’s been through, Ekko can’t bring himself to feel resentful. He only wants to hold her and tell her it’ll be okay because she’s not alone. 

“You’re not saying, are you?” he asks, hands in his pockets. 

“Nope,” she replies, popping the p. “Can’t.”

Words rush to his tongue. Insistence that she can and should stay—that there’s space here for her, not just in his life, but in the new Zaun he’s helping to shape. He almost admits it to her then. That he’s built this for her and the ones they lost along the way. 

Ekko continues walking, staring at the ground, noticing too late she’s fallen behind. He peers over his shoulder and freezes when he notices what’s caught her attention. The mural. Welcoming anyone coming into Zaun. Her face, slightly younger but now immortalised, peers back at them. 

“You drew this.”

He loosens a breath. “Yeah, I did. I, uh, just…”

Jinx reaches for her own face, fingertips ghosting over the painted wall. There’s tension on her face when she turns to look at him, something piercing and hard and thoughtful. Same pinch to her eyebrows he saw earlier in his bedroom. 

“I won’t let them take you,” he says softly. “If they came for you. I would fight for you.”

She doesn’t break their eye contact. “I know. You shouldn’t, but I know you would.”

“Then stay.”

She saunters forward, stopping only when they’re almost chest to chest. “I’m not her, y’know? The other me. The one you love.”

He smiles, huffing a small breath, refocusing on her and her small pout. Ekko reaches forward, tucking a few stray strands back under Jinx’s hood, lingering for a beat. “I wasn’t her Ekko, either. That’s why I came back. I like this version of you just fine. But just so we’re clear, every version of you is a pain in my ass.” He tugs on a small braid, grinning when she shoots him an annoyed glare and slaps his hand away. “But I won’t have it any other way. Wait, no. It sure as hell would be simpler if you didn’t try to kill me anymore, but I guess I’ll deal with that, too.”

Jinx snorts, absently reaching for the spot he touched, her gaze softer than before. “Ha! You hit like a girl, by the way. I never got to tell you.”

“You tried to blow us up.”

“Eh,” she whines. “That was one time. You gotta let that go.”

Ekko exhales a small laugh and realises he hasn’t smiled or laughed this much in years. Joy was leeched from him with her absence, and while he did his duties, there was no security of Jinx’s usual push and pull to keep him balanced and focused. Even when they were enemies, hunted each other down and attacked each other, they existed on opposite sides of a perfectly balanced sphere. 

Her nearness, the relief of having her there, overshadows the darker recollection of that afternoon when she tried to blow them up more than once. Memories so painful Ekko wishes to scrub them from his mind forever, yet they remain seared into his psyche. 

She grabs his elbow, dragging him forward, breaking the surrounding gloom. “Come on then,. Things to do, things to see.”

And Ekko does what he’s done since they were young. He follows her. Because they might not have tomorrow.

.

The day goes by too fast. Almost a blur. A series of snapshots Ekko will lock away in his mind forever. He never expected he’d get to do this again. This is something his younger self could have only dreamt about once. When they dreamt of simpler things; flashy toys and delicious sweets, things only a young boy could fantasise about, aside from a loving home, because at least that much he had. 

They walked and talked and joked around, eating street vendor food all day. Ekko knows they’re pushing their luck, but he can’t help himself. Jinx grew up here. This is her home too, and he wants to show her the progress they’ve made. There’s something comfortable about her snarky commentary and ill-timed jibes at the Council members. She asks about Vi only once, in relation to Cait, and Ekko tells her the truth. 

They’re happy. They’re together. She nods, satisfied, and moves on.

“We should go see Jericho next.” It’s an offhand suggestion while they walk the newly paved river path. Now people from the Undercity can enjoy the same luxury of having a peaceful sidewalk to take their kids down. It’s amazing how it’s the small things that bring people happiness. 

“Can’t,” Jinx replies, glancing towards the setting sun. Her smile twists; it’s still a smile, but it’s sad, in a way. “Sorry, hero.”

He takes several seconds to speak. “So, you’re leaving anyway.”

“Yes. I told you I can’t stay.”

“It’s a pity, then.”

She tilts her head. “Why?”

Damn her for even asking. Damn her and all the shitty circumstances for keeping them apart. Damn her for picking him during that game of hide and seek years ago. Damn her for being there for him and not being there at the same time. Damn her for being his entire world for years. Even when Ekko thought he hated her, he wasn’t free of her. He never could be. His girl with blue hair. 

He’s in love with her, in every possible way, but they both know they can’t work like this. There’s too many ghosts for Jinx here, and despite the changes, Ekko can’t promise her she won’t get dragged off to Stillwater the moment authorities find out she’s alive after all. 

Ekko frowns, clenches his fists, and walks away. 

But she’s like an anchor to him. He stops several paces away, tied to her. “You’re gonna break my heart.”

They’ve been everything from friends to enemies and strangers to reluctant allies again. So much of his life has revolved around her. Continues to revolve around her. Past and present. But if Jinx sends him away now, if she walks away, Ekko will let her go. Because he can finally rest easy, knowing she is alive and well, even if they’re apart.

“In any other universe, I might have loved you,” she breathes. 

He pivots towards her, his nostrils flaring. “Love me in this one,” he insists, reaching for her. Ekko cups her cheeks, tilting her head until her hood slips back down, exposing her blue hair to the setting sun. He’s glad there’s no one in sight because he can’t think straight right now. “Choose me now. Ask me to go away with you. Ask me.”

He presses his forehead to hers. Jinx’s empty gaze appears glazed over, her thoughts far away no matter how hard he tries to grip her and hold her close. 

“I don’t deserve you, boy saviour,” she whispers emptily. “You’re good.”

“No one decides for me, Jinx. Not even you.”

She blinks owlishly, searching his wild stare, a pained expression on her face, her fingers knotting against her chest. “What if you don’t want me after a while? I’m… different and if I get bad again... What if—”

“Ask me, damnit.”

Jinx loosens a shaky breath, jumping through a hundred micro-expressions in a few seconds. A painful mix between hope and dread. 

“C…” Her eyes squeeze shut. “Come with me.”

Ekko sags in relief. “Yes.” He holds her, wraps his arms around her despite the unsure way she folds against him. As if she’s unsure where to put her hands. If she should. “Yes, I’ll come with you. I don’t care if you’re different. I want you as you are, okay? No matter where we are.”

A tremulous breath wheezes past Jinx’s lips. But with that, she melts into him, burying her face against him. Her embrace grows desperate and tight, a tremble shuddering through her body. 

“Always a dance with you, huh?” he says after a moment.

She chuckles, the sound warming his collarbone. “And you still got two left feet, boy wonder.”

Constants and variables, young Ekko, Benzo told him once. Everything bad that can happen in this universe might come to pass, but so might everything good.

----

an: ahh I know this isn't really my usual offering but I really hope you guys enjoyed, it's been a while since i've cared enough about canon/canon ship to do this.

[littlxpxtal]

Puppy Grin

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

I'm alone, to beginning

Just sat right here with my puppy grin

For you and your sneaking on holidays, holidays

What fun to be had

When you've got me here to hit right back

Just some Polly parroting on and on and like you want

What's up with you?

It's never been like you to be back and begging

I've been no good at acting as I should

New Years Eve

My boots clacked against the pavement as I walked to Sabrina’s house, book bag filled to the brim with everything I needed to get ready for tonight. I knock on the large front door and am greeted by Sabrina, wrapped in a robe with her makeup half done and her hair up in a towel.

We greet each other and she leads me upstairs to her room, clothes sprawled out everywhere. I trip over a pair of heels and she profusely apologizes, throwing them across the room, landing on top of a pile of purses.

“Sorry I can’t fucking figure out what I wanna wear, which is preventing me from starting my eye makeup. Can you help?” I nod my head and start picking up dresses from her bed, inspecting each one.

“Ooo what about this one?” I ask, reaching back behind her bed. It was a black sparkly mini dress that she bought online a few months ago but never wore. I remember watching her buy it off her laptop in second period.

“Oh my GOD yes!” she screams, giving me a hug. I help her shove all of her clothes into her closet and start setting up my own little station by her mirror, applying my makeup.

“So who do you think you’re gonna kiss tonight?” I finally ask as I wrap a piece of hair around the hot wand. Sabrina peaks out from the bathroom and smirks.

“Haven’t decided.” she says before spraying hairspray on her head. “I’ve been hooking up with DJ Gabe for only like a week but there’s no strings attached.”

“What about Topper?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow at her. He was the host of tonights New Years Eve outing.

“What about him?” she responds sweetly, admiring herself in the mirror.

“What do you mean what about him” I say with a laugh, finishing up with the last strand of hair that needed to be curled. I spritz some hair spray on it then run a comb through the curls to loosen them up.

“No idea what you’re talking about” she says with a grin on her face. She walks out of the room and I roll my eyes, grabbing my dress and begin to slip it on.

The description on the website I found it from was “Femme Clubwear Gold Sequin Sleeveless Halter Backless Mini Dress” I hadn’t tried it on since purchasing so I was praying it would fit fine. If it didn’t at least I knew Sabrina had plenty of extras to let me wear.

Sabrina’s hopes for the night was to go home with the DJ from my birthday party. I had no motives for the night except to get drunk.

As if she read my mind, she reentered the room with a champagne bottle and two flutes in her hand.

“God you look so good!” she exclaims. “I have to put mine on now.” she shoves the bottle and glasses into my hand and runs to her bathroom to change. I pour the glasses full and hand one out to her when she exits.

“You look perfect.” I compliment her.

“Dude I know.” she says, walking over to her mirror and taking a selfie. I giggle at her and pull out my phone. It was 9:33 and I had a text from Rafe.

What’re you wearing tonight?

Something sexy

Send me a picture

You’ll have to wait till you see it on my instagram

You’re such a tease … Give me the color at least

Gold

Wow that is sexy

What’s your plans for tonight

Slummin it with Sarah while she whines about not getting a New Years kiss with johnbee

:( Be nice to her

Only because you told me to.

Top’s throwin tonight we’re about to leave

Im jealous

You should be :p

Shut up

Make me

Dont ask for things you dont actually want

What if i do

“Who’re you texting?” she says, taking a sip of champagne trying to peak down at my phone.

“No one important.” I say, clicking my phone off.

“When are you gonna tell me whats going on between you and Rafe?”

“Dont know what you’re talking about.” I say, mimicking her response from my probing questions earlier.

“I see the way he looks at you. And the way he touches you. He doesn’t do that with anyone else. And I mean anyone.” She pours herself another full glass and tops mine off.

“We’ve known each other for a while. I grew up around them so he probably just thinks of me like a sister or something.” I say shrugging.

“You and I both know he does not treat Sarah the same way he treats you so don’t even try that.” she says, with a serious face this time.

“Why does it matter Sab?” I ask, my face getting flustered. I let the topic go earlier about her and Top, but she wasn’t letting this one go.

“You guys would be cute.” she finally says after a few seconds of silence. I roll my eyes and walk over to my bag, pulling out my heels.

“That’s not what it is.” I huff.

“HA so something IS going on!”

I decide to give in. I knew Sabrina wouldn’t tell anyone and it was getting hard to keep it a secret from her anymore.

“Fine. We slept together. A few times. But that’s it.”

“And you’re texting.”

“He’s in Bora Bora.”

“He’s on vacation .. and hes on his phone texting you.”

“Its barely a conversation, let alone an intelligent one. No substance. He’s just bored.” I say defensively, buckling the clip of my heels on and standing up.

“This is so hot.” she says with a huge smile across her face. “I can’t believe your fucking Rafe. Is he good?” she asks.

I down the flute of champagne, pouring myself another glass before answering.

“Yea it’s pretty good.” I state. I check my phone to see that Rafe hadn’t answered. I frown slightly and look back over to Sabrina.

“Ready to go?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was 11:45 and I was alone. A bottle of champagne in one hand and a joint in the other. I had stolen a few cigarettes from some random pack that was left unattended on the bar. Everyone was hammered, the music was too loud and I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I stumbled down the hill of Topper’s backyard and made my way to the pier, walking closer to the edge by the water. I sit down on the edge and light both the joint and the cig.

The bass of the music rumbled down to the deck, vibrating the water below. I checked my phone again and saw that Rafe still hadn’t texted me back. I chugged a mouthful of champagne back and opened the spotify app. I was in the mood to listen to anything else other than house music.

The first song that plays on shuffle was Ribs. I laughed and turned the volume up, taking a drag from each of the lit sticks in my hands.

“What’re you doing out here?” The voice makes me practically jump out of my skin. I hadn’t heard the footsteps due to my intoxication and music rumbling around me. I turn my head to see the dark figure walking closer. The light at the edge of the deck where I sat illuminated their face.

It was Rafe.

“What are you doing here?” I squeak out.

“Dad had some business he needed to get back to so I hitched a ride with him.”

I rose to my feet and he walked closer to me.

“How long have you been home? How long have you been here?” My heart was racing and I felt insecure, realizing at the sight he was looking at. Me, crossed and alone on new years, listening to Lorde.

“We landed around 10, I got here around 11. ’ve been lookin for you. “

“You could’ve texted me.”

“That would’ve ruined the surprise” he says with a smirk, stepping closer. He takes the bottle out of my hand and takes a swig. He then takes the joint out of my hand, taking a long drag. “Looks like I have some catching up to do.” he chuckles, and sits down next to my phone on the pier.

After a few seconds, I sit next to him, about a foot of space between us. I stare out into the water, finishing up the cig, passing it to him for the last hit it had. He takes a drag and bums it out on the deck. He passes me back the bottle and joint and cracks his knuckles. I take a few sips before breaking the silence.

“How could you leave Bora Bora a week early?”

“Didn’t want to be alone on New Years.”

“Like I am” I snort. He looks over to me. For the first time, his eyes are soft. His pupils aren’t dilated like they usually are when we’re at events like this, an effect from the white powder he snorts. I never see him sober anymore.

Hurricane by Halsey starts to play from my phone, filling the silence that had fallen between us again.

That’s exactly what he made me feel inside. Like there was a fucking storm brewing. I wanted to run and hide from the way he made me feel so I didn’t have to accept it. Like I had whiplash from his emotions. I never knew if he was going to say something nice or something mean. I never knew what mood he would be in. He was always lingering, I never knew when to expect to see him. Like tonight. He just appeared. He tore me open, left me devastated. And I liked it.

“Well now we’re here. Not alone anymore.” he finally says. A shiver runs up my spine and I hand him back the bottle. I had reached my limit for the night. The world felt like it was spinning, his surprise appearance leaving me in a haze. A dreamlike state. I wanted to pinch myself to check if this was even real or if I blacked out and this was a dream.

A countdown from the house rumbled through the air. Rafe put the bottle down and inched towards me. My breath hitched and I felt my hands start to shake. His hand reaches up to cup the side of my face and I look at him. His eyes still soft.

When the crowd chants Happy New Year, he leans in and presses his lips against mine. Its the sweetest he’s ever kissed me. My shaky hands trail up and hold his neck, pressing myself up, deeper into the kiss. When we finally break free, he keeps his face close to mine.

“Happy New Year.” he whispers. Fireworks erupt from someones house across the water, lighting his face up with color.

“Take me home.”

Rafe led the way up the hill back to the Cameron estate, holding my hand and the other holding onto my heels that I had taken off.

When we walk inside the house is quiet and dark. He grabs two glasses of water from the kitchen and we go upstairs. We turn left at the top of the stairs, instead of my usual right to Sarah’s room. I held my breath when walking in, it felt odd going into his room. I haven’t been inside of it since I was like 11.

It looked vaguely familiar from all those years ago, posters of his favorite artists and cars he liked, his desk with random papers piled on it. His closet door was closed, a few jackets hung from the back of the door. His floor was clean, which was a nice surprise from a teenage boy. His sheets were black and had a white knitted throw blanket on top.

He sat on the edge of the bed and reached his arms out, pulling me onto his lap, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear.

“This dress is breathtaking.” he whispers. His hand trails from my cheek, fingers hovering over my bottom lip. I stay as still as possible, keeping eye contact with him. His thumb holds my chin, pulling my face closer to his.

“What do you want pretty girl?” he says, his breath lingers over my mouth and I hesitate for a second to answer.

“I want you.” I finally say, releasing the breath I had been holding. He presses his mouth against mine, I part mine open, letting his tongue circle around inside. I begin to unbutton his top, and unbuckle his pants. When they fall to the floor, I go down with them, on my knees in front of Rafe. He visibly gulps and I begin to palm his length on the outside of his boxers. They were Calvin Klein this time. I start to pepper kisses along his happy trail, teasing the band of his boxers, I can feel his abs flex, and he runs his fingers through my hair.

I finally pull his boxers off, his cock slapping up against his abdomen.

“Hold my hair for me?” I ask, battling my lashes up at him. He nods his head feverishly, swiping it all up into his grip in one go. I spit on the top of his tip and hear his breathing get ragged.

Taking him in slowly, I wrap my lips around his tip, letting my spit drop down his shaft, using my hand to spread the saliva around. I swirl my tongue around his tip and look up at him, his eyes are squeezed shut.

I push myself down his length, trying to my hardest to make it down to his base without gagging. He bucks up into my mouth, making his tip hit the back of my throat. Tears brim my eyes and I feel drool dripping from the corners of my mouth. His eyes are still squeezed tight, his chest glistening against the warm light shining from the corner of the room.

Rafe’s hand pulls my hair up and he pushes back down, bobbing my head on his cock. I let him take over completely, and his hips start to thrust up into my mouth, his bottom lip tight between his teeth, he grunts loudly with each thrust.

“Fuck ‘M gonna cum.” he whsipers, a soft whine coming from his mouth as hes unable to keep his composure before filling my mouth with his cum, shooting straight down the back of my throat.

I swallow everything he released into my mouth, wiping the outside corners with the back of my hand. Rafe releases his grip on my hair and I sit up on my knees, batting my eyelashes up at him for my next direction.

“I’m sorry I might be out of commission for tonight.” he says sheepishly, pulling his boxers back on and scratching the back of his head.

“It’s alright. I owed you anyways.” I respond before standing up and walking around to pick up my shoes. From the corner of my eye I see Rafe frown, and rub his hands on his face.

“You headin out already?” he finally says after a few seconds of silence. I nod and walk back over to the bed, sitting on the edge next to him, attempting to put my shoes on.

“You know, you can stay here if you’d like. Its dangerous out there.” I chuckle at this and look up to meet his eyes. They’re soft, and he has a vulnerable look on his face, something I haven’t seen in a very long time.

“I dont know Rafe, we usually don’t do that.” I say, trying to respect the non existent boundaries of our relationship. We’ve never even talked about what this is, let alone what was allowed. He chews on his lip nervously, another few seconds of silence linger around the room.

“But I want you to stay.” I stop fumbling with my shoes when the words come out of his mouth. I internally debate on what this could mean. It was a line that seemed like it shouldn't be crossed, but looked so inviting to try.

“Can I borrow some clothes then?” I ask. He smiles and jumps off the bed, walking over to his dresser and tossing a pair of boxers and a t shirt. He walks to the ensuite bathroom, rummaging around in the cabinet and pulls out a toothbrush in its packaging.

“You can use my toothpaste. I dont got any makeup remover, but I have some face wash and lotion” he says into the room before starting to brush his own teeth. I slip off the dress I was wearing and place it onto his desk chair, placing the heels under his desk. I plug my phone into the closest outlet, and change into the clothes he provided. When Rafe steps out of the bathroom, I go in after him, using the toiletries he provided me to freshen up.

When I enter back into his bedroom, the last light that remains on is his bedside lamp. Rafe laid flat on his back, with his eyes closed. I crawl onto the bed, coming up beside him. He peaks one eye open and smiles, reaching his arms out to grab and pull me closer, pressing a kiss on my forehead.

I cuddle up against his chest, and he runs his fingers through my hair, falling deeper into sleep with each breath. I wasn’t sure what possessed Rafe to fly home early, and invite me to stay the night at his house, but it worried me that this might mean we had to have some sort of discussion about what was happening. I had no experience with a situation like this before, and Sarah’s words about Rafe and his ill intentions haunted my thoughts.

I thought about what I wanted. I wasn’t actually sure to be honest. I’ve known Rafe forever, I felt comfortable around him and he knows me well. But I also consider that he’s still just a guy with needs and maybe just wants a friends with benefits situation. Which I would be alright with, as long as if he gets to mess around with other people, so do I.

Before I could work myself up anymore about the thought of me and Rafe, soft snores escaped his mouth as he fell asleep. I clutched the side of his body tighter and kisses his cheek, whispering goodnight before resting my head on his chest and falling asleep.

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[savanir]

Death of the Father, Death of the Son

Part 3

prev and OG prompt

Dick was just about finished with his preparations in the Batjet when one of his brothers barged in and dumped some of their stuff inside as well.

“I’m coming with you” Tim straps down the case he brought and plants his ass in the copilot seat.

Dick looks at him with a slight frown, “Tim…”

“no I want to see the murder scenes with my own eyes and it’s good for you to have some backup-”

“I’ll be just fine on my own babybird-”

“-cause we don’t know if this is just one assassin or a whole organization”

“ok. and now you can tell me the real reason you want to come along”

Tim gives Dick a side-eye before slumping down“... Alf has been talking with Bruce about me needing fresh air again and I rather do that preemptively and on my own terms so you’re just gonna have to accept you’re stuck with me on this one now”

Dick sighs, and ruffles Tim’s hair before strapping himself in the pilot seat and ignoring the indignant squawk from his brother, “sure, fine, Oracle we’re heading out now”

“have a safe trip Nightwing”

and they are off

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

Amity Park is about what they expected, outwardly nothing remarkable, somewhat sleepy. But upon closer inspection the signs of multiple battles are quite clear.

Though apparently it’s been quite a while now since the last “ghost” battle. There is a lot of speculation as to why among the town folks which could be important to look into some other time, but for now the boys put a pin in it and get to breaking and entering the old Fenton household for their investigation.

Things seem to be normal inside the house but… ahem, well...

Tim inspects all the strange tech that looks just haphazardly slapped on the walls with a critical eye while Dick lifts one of the family photos to have a better look.

“looks like a normal average american household to me, even with mom and dad preferring to wear hazmat suits everywhere apparently” there really aren’t any pictures where they aren’t wearing the orange and teal suits. Madeline Fenton wasn’t wearing one at the Gala though, she looks a lot more comfortable in these pictures.

Dick looks around some more, “is it just me or does this place just feel… depressing?”

“yeah no I get what you mean, there is nobody here but I also feel a lot like I’m intruding” Tim hums, “more than normal that is”

“Red…” 

Tim elects to ignore that tone of voice completely, “there is no way any of this stuff is even remotely up to code” he then peeks at the picture as well, he of course already knew what the murdered father and missing son looked like, he’s done his homework, but this is a casual happy family picture, that always drives home the fact that these were- are real people. 

but how did they all get dragged into this situation, this mess that is slowly turning into something a lot more complicated… maybe… well that’s why he’s here. To figure it out.

The stairs that lead to the basement lab are in the kitchen for some reason, and once down there they both need a moment to take the whole place in.

The entire house is rather abandoned but this place looks as if it hasn't been touched since the police did their own investigation.

There is some tape and markers that were left behind but overall it looks a lot like a hurricane went through it, exploded, and then everything got covered in a fine layer of dust.

Tim opens the case he brought with him and begins setting up the holo scanners to make a copy of the whole place that they’ll be able to project in the batcave later, in case they miss something now.

It's only after that’s done that they start to have a look themselves.

“Even this badly wrecked it definitely looks like some sort of evil lair” Tim mutters as he inspects the nearest vaguely firearm shaped object, or maybe it’s a hair blower he’s not sure, it’s got Fenton Works™ stamped on it though.

“is that a portal” Dick meant it as a question but it ends up sounding like a statement.

It gets Tim’s attention though, “I… maybe?” it kinda looks like one potentially, busted up to hell though.

Dick carefully approaches it but doesn’t for a second think about going in there,“Mostly looks like a hole in the wall now though, I’m not going in there to check with all those wires on the ground, talk about a trip hazard. Not to mention the threat of electrocution, has nobody here heard about cable management?!”

“where is your sense of adventure Wingster, besides I am pretty sure this place is cut off from electricity now” 

“yeah, I’m not taking the risk with sketchy evil lair portals today” 

Dick lets Tim do his own detective work while he takes out a little device Batman made to alert him to Deadman. He figures it would be interesting to get a read on the place and see if it's really ghosts that have been causing a mess in Amity Park or if it is something else that just appears paranormal.

The ecto-detection goes completely wild however. “Alright well… uhh”

"What's that?”

“I was just curious if something occult was going on around here what with everyone blaming the past attacks on ghosts and thinking that whatever happened here probably has something to do with them as well… but I'll be honest, Boston never registered anywhere near this high. And it's just - everywhere”

“So any further investigation into Amity Park itself is gonna have to be done by Dark?”

“probably” though Tim is also fully planning on doing a full investigation himself.

Either way, they put a pin in that too.

They have a good look at the areas where bullets made an impact, scorch marks and the broken examination tables. They are about done when Tim asks if it would be worth it to break into the local police department and have a lot at (steal) whatever evidence they might still have on the case.

They could have something useful, unless it is who Dick really hopes it’s not. 

They leave the basement and are greeted with the sight of two teens in the kitchen.

hm…

Dick decides to just go with a cheery hello,

“Holy shit it’s Nightwing and Red Robin!” Tucker basically has stars in his eyes.

“After the message we got from Jazz I kinda expected the big bat”

“That's not true, you said after all this time you didn’t think they were actually gonna come at all- ow!” Sam doesn’t hesitate to  hit him in the shoulder. 

“Didn't think we'd show up” Tim says.

“Well am I wrong?” Sam sneers, “the only reason you guys are here is cause it’s a Gotham thing now. Otherwise someone actually competent would have looked into this months ago”

Tucker shrugs sheepishly and looks a little pained, “perhaps we shouldn't antagonize the Justice League heroes?”

Sam looks about ready to start hissing, it reminds Tim somewhat of the demon brat when he's particularly upset. “whatever” she says.

Tucker now has a strained smile, “uh, if you guys were wondering how we knew you were in here, that's because Jazz asked us to keep an eye on the place”

they tripped an alarm? how… Everything in here is cut off and disabled. some sort of battery based system maybe? but they would have surely picked up on that…

Dick figures he might as well just go ahead and ask some questions so he takes a seat and the other two follow suit more at ease than the two birds expected. Tim decides to wander a bit more around the kitchen. Maybe there is something he missed here.

“so, I'm just gonna go out on a limb here and assume that you two also think Daniel-”

“Danny” Sam corrects immediatly 

“-yes Danny, you two also think he's still alive?”

The question is immediately answered by a, “yes” and a, “he is”

“Jazz also seemed very certain of this despite the fact that a body was found. what makes you all so sure?”

Sam looks ready to spring into another tirade, Dick is starting to suspect that she has a serious issue with ‘not being taken seriously’

“Jazz told you guys already about the clone thing right? just go to Vlad's estate and it's all there in his evil basement laboratory”

“and we also know someone who can check deaths through occult stuff, and they confirmed that he has not… you know, crossed over”

“occult like magic?”

“or something, they were never wrong before. we do realize this isn't hard evidence obviously but they are a friend and not the type to just tell us what we want to hear” this is the easiest way to explain that they got in contact with the ghosts to have them look through the realms for Danny.

“I'd like to speak with-”

“that's gonna be hard, they don't show up with all the government people crawling about”

“so that individual with proof cannot be reached so we can’t verify their claims”

“nope”

unfortunate, but they did already say it wasn't hard evidence. It seems that these two aren’t going to budge on it which seems a little odd to Dick, there are known magic users in the League. Someone being able to check into the afterlife or whatever to see if someone is truly dead isn’t completely out of left field, it should be fine to meet with that person and at least hear them out… so why are ‘’government people’’ an issue? are they possibly wanted for some crime? oh well…

“when we went to them it was mostly just to know. you know? like… mr. Fenton got murdered and Danny went missing, and nobody knew anything or could find anything. Everyone suspected ghosts of course. and we just wanted to know if our best friend was dead or not, if searching was even worth it”

“and now the fruitloop got assassinated. to us it basically also confirms it you know. he's still alive, and it would absolutely be best to shut up the one guy who knows about the whole thing”

But why smear Masters? Why not do it quietly? And what makes Daniel so special?

Tim just knows he's going to end up with more sleepless nights because of this.

In the end the two teens aren’t actually all that cooperative. It seems they actually have mostly shown up to check what was going on inside the Fenton household, Tim and Dick decide not to push them too much then and there, figuring they could visit Master’s estate first, verify the clone allegations, and after that get back to these two, perhaps when they get more intel and have something more substantial to work these then Sam and Tucker will be a bit more forthcoming as well.

Only time will tell.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

Slade had to go on some solo mission and at this point he's okay with leaving the boys to handle themselves, Danny eagerly takes the opportunity to do his own thing. 

Aka, going after politicians to get the acts repealed. Making deals with the ones who value their lives and can see a good opportunity when they are presented with one and getting his name out there. If he’s an actual threat people will be forced to listen. 

This day though he lands a hit that the supers in Metropolis somehow know about…

someone somewhere snitched, or… they are compromised. A worry for later.

"Memento Mori, they say you're trained by the Deathstroke and that you have an absolute success rate. And that you only kill your target and no one else on one of your assignments... but today all of it is coming to an end because with my tactile telekinesis I-" 

"If I had known that all I had to do to meet a real life alien was to act up a little I would have gone down this road a lot sooner" Danny leans against the AC unit on top of the apartment building they are currently on.

Kon splutters, "what?"

"Alright, okay, clone of an alien, which to me is still basically the same thing. Very cool, honestly, if you ask me, even better"

Kon puffs up, "well I am pretty awesome if I say so myself"

"Absolutely, out of this world some would say"

Kon snorts, then remembers what's actually going on here, "are you trying to distract me?"

"Maybe? Is it working?" Kon pouts and makes a so-so gesture. "I do mean it though. You're easily in my top five favorite aliens"

Kon blushes quite prettily "Uhm, well I... oh wait aliens? Not heroes?"

"Ah, yeah well about that, I guess I'm not a fan of that? Especially not currently. What with you being in my way and all that"

"Oh so if I were to politely ask to not kill the lady"

"Yeah I'm still gonna do that, sorry"

Kon sighs, "well in that case I'll-" 

He promptly gets knocked back by an impressive punch to the face. Mostly stunned by the fact that it properly hurts and then realizing Danny can move at all.

"You got distracted" and gives him a wink.

Kon rubs his jaw, "Oh you think you're cute"

"not just cute, I am adorable" and Kon just knows this smug bastard is grinning at him under the mask he can’t see through.

He really wishes he didn't have a thing for dark haired spunky dangerous people.

"... it- it doesn't matter, even with your freaky assassin skills there is no way-"

"You're a bit of a terrible match up against me though, no offense" Danny is trying to not overuse his abilities. He doesn't want the justice league to know about all of them. but it'll turn into a messy and long fight where neither come out on top if he sticks with the regular stuff. And that would allow backup to arrive and make things even more complicated... 

"Damn... I just don't have time for this"

Kon makes sure he's prepared to intercept anything Danny might throw at him now.

"If you go invisible I'll just follow the sound of your heartbeat"

"Oh" Danny turns his heart off. He can't do that indefinitely while in human form though, but this will do for this fight. "How about now"

"What the-? Are you alright!?"

"Awww you’re worried? That's sweet. Supersweet one could say," Danny turns invisible, "you should really be more worried about yourself though Superboy"

Kon tries if he can keep visual with his X-ray vision, he thinks about trying to do a sweep for even the slightest disturbance with his TTK field when a freezing cold shiver shoots up his spine.  

There is a moment of silence where nothing and nobody moves and then Kon can hear Superman in the distance. 

"Kon! What's going on!"

"That little- he slipped away!" 

"That's unfortunate... meet up with Kara at Miss Holloway’s location. Together we'll be able to stop him there"

"No I think I can-" Kon tries to argue

"Superboy" superman sounds stern 

"... fine, I'm going"

Kon makes a direct beeline for the target location and a grin can't help but spread over his face. He pushes his sunglasses up a bit more to hide the glowing green eyes. 

Now that he got to this point he’s getting back to wondering who tipped the supers off though. Having to switch to plan B was rather annoying. 

And he still absolutely doesn't like overshadowing people but what can you do… mission first, personal and ethical little hang ups second.

Superboy went under so smoothly though, Danny wondered why that was until he did a careful skim of the surface and sensed the roiling self hatred. He suspects that'll do it.

Danny feels sorta bad though, Superboy really is up there in his list of coolest things this world has to offer. He'll have to make it up to him after this is all over somehow. In a way that won’t compromise himself, and also avoid the old man knowing. 

It's then that he realizes he's arrived at the target location, it's showtime!

"Here I am"

Kara gives him a wave and he smoothly touches down, it really is a good thing he already knows how to fly and stuff, makes the whole pretending to be a Kryptonian thing a bit easier. "Got away huh?"

He huffs, "he can just turn his heartbeat off, how was I supposed to know that?"

"Deathstroke's protégé's are on a different level for sure. But even they have a limit"

Right... sure... underestimate him, very smart...

Not that he can really blame them. They probably think he's a baseline human with maybe some meta abilities or just a new upgraded Ikon suit.

"Can I see the tip off?

"Again? Sure. Though I doubt you'll see anything in it that we haven't seen yet. Oracle is trying to trace it but..."

"Hm, what if..." yeah some of this was very familiar, "what if it's Deathstroke and he's treating this whole thing as a screwed up training exercise?"

"That... I sure hope not"

"He's insane enough for that though"

"I hate that you could be right"

The silence stretches. 

"Are you alright Kon?"

Danny startles a little, "Yeah! I'm just, frustrated"

"Ah, don't worry. With the three of us standing ready it'll be fine. We'll catch him" she presses her fist in her open palm.

Danny feels a careful smile spread on Kon's face. 

"Hey, you check up on the lady and I'll make it look like I'm not involved in all this. Kal is close by and after that we'll try that thing with you spreading your TTK field super far"

Using Superboy's ability as a net? Interesting. "Gotcha"

Supergirl nods and then takes off and Danny figures he might as well just get this whole thing over with now. 

The lady is right there, she barely acknowledges him when he politely greets her. Rude…

And then he snaps her neck. 

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

"Youuuu" Danny storms up to Slade with vicious green overtaking his usual blue, “you fucking motherf-”

"Boy-"

"Don't you boy me. You sabotaged my assignment!"

"False accusations?"

Danny gives him a look that screams ‘are you for real…’ "Of course I took a moment to investigate. I had to know if we had a leak. But you tipping off the supers you absolute-"

Slade nods, satisfied that Danny looked into the matter, "You were fine, you need to be challenged to learn how to adapt to any situation. The moment things become complicated you resort to your abilities"

"Get off it old man I'm only half human of course I'm using my damn abilities, they are a fucking part of me! You though- You're the biggest dick in the universe and-"

Any civilized conversation quickly ends after that as it gradually devolves into a physical fight.

"Bastard" Danny mutters as he focuses his healing to fix his black eye first. 

"Cool down brat” Slade says, looking no worse for wear, “We'll go over the whole thing in more depth later" and the veteran assassin leaves the room. 

Danny fumes as he handles his patch up himself. While doing so he allows himself a moment of self loathing. 

He hates that he's making progress getting the ecto acts removed. "working" with the people who are happily removing the thing and getting rid of those that ignorantly want to keep it in place. 

He hates that the G.I.W are easier to handle with his new skillset.

He really hates how easy this is getting. 

And he really really hates how there was zero hesitation to overshadow Superboy and use him. 

He can't wait till this is over, one way or another.

[lovecla]

© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist, nico hischier x you:

FAKE IT ‘TILL YOU MAKE IT, phase one:

<last chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: none!!

➴ word count: 2.1k

💌 from me to you: i heard it’s thanksgiving in the us so happy thanksgiving to all of you!! thank u so much for all the love in part one, but here’s where the fun really begins. also, thank u for the 500 reblogs <3 i love u all so much and i’m thankful for all of u. 🤍

𖧷

emmaroberts

Newark, New Jersey

liked by nicohischier, dawson1417, ninahischier and 603 others

emmaroberts night out :)

View all 30 comments

user1 it’s so funny to me how the hischiers always like emma’s pics like they love her 😭

miaturner YOURE SO FINE HELP HELP HELP CALL THE COPS

emmaroberts miaturner mia you’re mentally challenged but i love you a lot

user2 it’s not even been five minutes since she’s posted and nico’s already in the likes

user3 user2 and so is nina so???? your point??

tmeier96 Why was I not invited 😢

emmaroberts tmeier96 next time we’ll call you promise

user4 ok. have u guys seen nico’s story

user5 user4 omg yes do you think they were dining together

user6 user5 user4 it wouldn’t be THAT much of a surprise bc they’ve been friends for AGES

user4 user6 you’re right i guess 🤷‍♂️

𖧷

nicohischier and emmaroberts added a new story!

𖧷

THE FLORAL perfume you had chosen for the night was bothering you, yet you had no one to blame but that one lady at Sephora who offered you a huge deal and made you buy it even if you didn’t like it that much.

Realistically speaking, you knew that the perfume wasn’t really the issue here. You were nervous about this whole fake-dating thing, even if you’d been your idea to begin with.

Lying and faking things weren’t really your deal. As a child, you’d always get in trouble because you could never lie properly. Growing up, you also faced your own problems because you can’t lie.

But you really want to help Nico.

Tonight’s Luke’s 21st birthday, and you had been invited to his little birthday dinner, a small celebration with people from his team and close friends, which included you. Although, you’re going more as a plus one than a friend, but Luke doesn’t need to know that.

A knock on your bedroom door has you turning your head around, facing Nico as he leans on the door frame and crosses his arms in front of you.

“You look nice,” he compliments you, and you smile, putting your arms behind you.

“Thanks. So do you.”

“So,” he claps his hands, sighing. “Are we ready? What’s the game plan for today?”

You take a deep breath, mentally repeating the “plan” you’ve been working on.

“Okay, this is what we’re going to do tonight, and Nico, you have to take this really seriously or else—”

“You sound really scary right now—”

“Nico.”

“Okay,” he pouts. “Go ahead.”

“All of your teammates are going to be there tonight and if anyone is going to help us fool Nora Ellis, it’s them,” you walk around the room, moving your hands as you explain your thoughts. “If we make ‘em believe that we are very much in love and together, then we’ll be safe.”

“That will be kind of hard,” he shrugs. “We’ve been friends for a while and we’re close but… I don’t know.”

“Nico,” you step closer, standing in front of him. “For this lie to work, you have to believe it. We have to believe it. It’s the only way we’ll be able to make this work.”

He whistles. “You know a lot for someone who can’t lie to save her life and started crying when I asked you if you had turned my jerseys pink when you decided that washing them with Nina’s pink shirt was a good idea.”

You roll your eyes and bite your lips, trying to hide your smile. “I just read tons of books.”

“When was the last time you—”

“This isn’t relevant right now!” you point your finger at him. “What’s relevant is: we need to make your teammates believe we’re together and in love. Think you can make it?”

Nico smirks, poking your cheek with his finger.

“When have I ever backed out of a challenge?”

“You’ve been around Jack for too much time, you’re getting too cocky,” you joke, crossing your arms. “So, the second part of your plan: PDA, pet names and touching.”

“Go on, little genius.”

“Lots of touching,” you say, feeling your cheeks get warm as you emphasize the word lots, making you want to look elsewhere. You don’t. “Lots of PDA and I guess we can squeeze some pet names in there too.”

“What?” he chuckles. “Want me to call you baby? Sweetheart?”

You spend the next five seconds forcing your face to remain red-less and your heart to stop beating so fucking fast— you were afraid Nico might hear it, considering how close you were and how fast it was going.

Gulping, you continue. “I don’t want anything,” you mumble. “I just think it’ll work.”

“Then we’re fine,” he claps again, moving his hair around. “Do we need to discuss something else?”

You look at the watch on your wrist and click your tongue.

“We don’t have time, we have to leave now,” you walk towards your bed and grab your purse, your phone and your wallet. “We can talk more in the car.”

“Lead the way, baby.”

Oh God, you think as you hear Nico’s laugh and comments about how fun this is all going to be, what have I done?

𖧷

“OKAY, AND remember, we started dating a month ago but we kept it super lowkey,” you remind Nico as you walk by his side towards the restaurant Luke chose for the night. “I hate lobster, you hate pop music.”

“I don’t hate it—”

“Strongly dislike,” you smile, before looking down, where Nico had just slipped his hand and intertwined both of your hands together.

Right. You’re dating.

Entering the fancy place, you felt Nico’s body close to yours, and you tried your hardest to keep your cool. You were used to being close to him but not in this way, not like this—

“Hischier!” Jack shouts across the room and you almost want to knock him out with your own two hands for yelling like this and drawing everyone’s attention to you and Nico. “And… Emma?”

It was almost comical how grown men looked interested in your hands together, and how many smiles you could see directed at both of you. Your grip on Nico’s hand tightened without you even realizing it did, and you smiled politely at Luke and the rest of the Devils.

Nico let go of your hand for a second before shaking hands with Luke, wishing him a happy birthday like an old grandpa.

“Hey, Emma, thanks for coming.” Luke hugs you briefly, barely touching you, and you grin.

“Happy birthday, Lukey.”

“Emma!” Mia, one of your best friends, shouts and gets up, running to you. She hugs you tightly, and you hug her back, happy to see her again after weeks. “I didn’t know you were coming! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I forgot,” you lie, feeling your cheeks getting warm. Mia looks at you like a human lie detector and you can tell she sees right through your bullshit but, happily, she doesn’t say anything else. “Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. Ella’s here, too.”

You look around and try to find Ella, smiling when you see her sitting beside Luke, quietly speaking to one of the wives sitting beside her.

“I’ll talk to her later.” You reply.

You and Nico spend the next five minutes greeting the other people there, the rest of the players and some of the girlfriends before finally sitting down by Jack’s side— per his request, you must say. Nico’s hands immediately found yours as you placed them on top of the table, before grabbing the menu and smiling at you, brown eyes full of mischief.

“What do you want to eat, baby?”

Before you could even think of what to say, Jack’s loud and annoying laugh filled the table. “I fucking knew it! Hamilton, you owe me a hundred bucks!”

“Oh, man,” Hamilton sighs as he picks up his phone. “Couldn’t you guys keep hiding your relationship for a little bit more?”

“W-What do you mean?” you ask, looking at him before looking at Jack again.

“Dougie and I made a bet: if you made your relationship public by the end of the year, I’d win,” Jack starts, and you can tell how proud he is. “But if you didn’t, he’d win. Thankfully, I know my man here always gets my back.” He cheers, slapping Nico’s shoulder.

“You’re such a fucking child, Hughes.” Mia hisses before looking at you, clearly asking you why you hadn’t told her before.

“Shut up, princess. Now,” he grins. “My money, Dougie.”

You stare at them in disbelief, while Nico puts on his best performance and squeezes your hands together, smiling like he had just been caught eating snacks before lunch.

“Sorry, guys. We were just waiting for the right time,” he explains, and he sounds so natural you have to remind yourself to keep your surprise hidden. “Didn’t want to be like you and rush things.”

“Oh, screw you,” Jack laughs. “We all knew. You’re not slick.”

They kept talking while you tried to hide the fact that the things they were saying made no sense. Because you and Nico have never been close, romantically speaking. Sure, you’re friends, best friends if you want to go that way, but dating?

And, okay, you’re used to people thinking you’re together, because apparently a guy and a girl can’t be friends anymore, but this? The fact that they were sure of your “relationship” with Nico, sure enough to bet? This is surreal.

“Did you choose already?” Nico whispers to you, and you look at him with wide eyes. You don’t answer, trying to find the right things to say so you don’t screw up everything. “Baby? Are you okay?”

You nod, blinking a few times before staring at the menu in Nico’s hand again. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I think I’ll get the Caesar Burger, please.”

“Great choice.” He smiles at you, before telling your orders to the waiter.

You thought that your biggest concern here would be Nico, but in reality, it’s going to be you. You can’t really deal with too much attention on you, that’s why you’ve been keeping yourself in the shadows for this long— Hockey players can be loud and invasive sometimes, and you’d rather hang out with their kids or parents, because they won’t ask questions you don’t want to answer.

“So,” Timo starts, sipping on his beer and resting his chin on his hands, looking like a goddamn school girl. “What made you decide it was finally time? Sie ist ein hübsches Mädchen, Nico.”

Nico looks at you, smiling. “Ja, ist sie,” he nods, and even if you have no idea of what they’re talking about, you smile too, because Nico’s smile makes you want to smile. “And, I don’t know, man. If you had a girl who looked like this,” he points at you with his head. “Would you want to hide her?”

“Nico, he won’t ever get a girl like Emma,” Dougie laughs before getting shoved by Timo. “Ouch.”

“Well, I think it’s nice you guys are finally out.” Palat’s wife says, making you smile and rest your head on Nico’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” you say, sweetening your voice to the max. “I think we were just trying to understand where we stood before, y’know, letting everyone know.”

“How did the Hischiers take it?” Mia asks, looking extra curious. “I bet Nina was happy.” Like I would’ve been if you had told me sooner, she mouths, making you cringe. Sorry, you mouth back.

“They took it well,” you lie through your teeth, squeezing Nico’s arm more than you probably should. “And Nina is just glad her sister-in-law isn’t a Hockey obsessed girl.”

People laugh and you can’t help but feel you had just gotten your approval from Nico's friends.

Nico changes the topic of the conversation, moving back to Luke, the star of the night, and you’re glad for it. You eat side by side with him, you laugh at his jokes, you’re constantly touching him, as he’s constantly touching you.

“We should go out some time,” Mia says, casually, like she doesn’t mean anything by it. “Y’know, catch up.”

“Like anyone would willingly choose to spend a day with you.” Jack bickers, and Mia rolls her eyes at him.

“Go fuck yourself, Hughes.”

“Hey, guys,” Luke yells from the other corner of the table. “You promised you’d be nice to each other today. It’s my birthday.”

“I said no such thing—”

“You can’t even hear what we’re saying—” They both say at the same time.

“Jack and Mia. Shut. Up.” Luke says and they both pout while they shut up.

“It’s so funny because they’re much more alike than they think.” You whisper to Nico, smiling as he places his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly.

“They sure are, baby.”

It all seems so… natural. It’s weird and unsettling, but you’re fine with it as long as it helps people buy your lie. Also, the feeling of Nico’s heavy hand on your thigh isn’t really unpleasant.

The rest of the evening flies by and when you notice, it’s time for you to leave. You almost don’t want to, for the first time, happy to spend time with the players.

“D’you think they bought it?” You ask when you’re away from the guys and the restaurant. Your hands are still together but none of you notice it.

“I think they did,” he chuckles. “Actually, it was a lot easier than I was expecting.”

None of you address the fact that they already thought you were dating, though.

“Yeah,” you whisper, looking at your heels. “Phase one is complete, then.”

“I like how seriously you’re taking this,” he says, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to look down at you, dimples on display for the whole world to see. Yet, you were the only one watching them right now. “Thank you. Truly.”

You smile, standing on the tip of your toes and giving him a light, brief kiss on the cheek, as you’re used to doing.

“You’re welcome.”

<next chapter>

[iwannascreameurekaa]

"if it's okay for poc to be cast as originally white characters then why can't we cast white people for poc characters"

Great question I have a wonderful answer for you

to start this is about a post I saw about Leah playing Annabeth Chase in the Percy Jackson show. Someone in the comment section was complaining about it and saying that they think a white person should be casted for Hazel if there's ever a live action heros of Olympus. This person claimed that if race has no meaning when casting a black perosn for Annabeth, then why would it matter for Hazel?

here's where this person is so incredibly wrong that it confuses me on what their brain is used for if not to make a complete thought. Hazels race was one of the most important things about her backstory

Hazel was a woc in there 1940s she went to a school for colored children. She legit experienced segregation. The whole reason that she had a connection to Leo is because she went to school with his grandfather sammy and the only reason she knew sammy was because of that school for colored children. Just that is enough to tell her that yes her race does in fact have a meaning and isn't something you should change

then the person in the comment section started talking about Frank.. then Leo and then piper. Basically they ranted on and on about any poc character

Let's start with Leo now. I'm bringing back the hazel point because again the only reason that he and Hazel had a funky connection at the beginning of moa is because of that school for colored children. Leo's Hispanic heritage is also important when concerning how his life with his mother was up till he died. One of the reasons he ran away from his aunts house was because she was religious and constantly called him the devil.

what about Frank? Well his Chinese heritage connected him to Poseidon which made him related to Percy which isn't massively important but you know it's a plot point so I see no point in getting rid of it

and piper? One of the first things we find out about piper is that she is bullied for being cherokee. The FIRST thing we see of piper interacting with characters besides Jason and Leo is her experiencing racism. It is insane that some people think that's just a thing that could be thrown away. Her Cherokee heritage also relates to her main character development in the trials of Apollo and lots of her "wisdom" is old cherokee stories her grandpa would tell her

and tell me one fucking moment in the series where Percy or Jason's race was important. Other than them being Greek/roman because they're all Greek and Roman so shut up

oh but since everyone's complaining about Annabeth being black in the show that must mean that her being white in the books is SOOOOO important

... it's not. In fact she's literally 1000x tanner than most of y'all depict her in the "canon" fanart so... yeah. And those of y'all saying "what about her being blonde that's her main character thing blah blah blah" I'm sorry is this the 2000s??? Blondes being dumb is a horribly outdated stereotype that is only ever used in a joking manner now back when the lightning thief was written in was a thing used against blonde women but now it isn't.

You know a certain group that is targeted and deemed dumb because of how they look? People of color, specifying black women.

Annabeth Chase being black is probably one of the best casting decisions ever, and I say this knowing that race wasn't the main thing when casting. Leah is the perfect person to play Annabeth and I will die on that hill. She has the script determination and the emotional range that makes her the perfect candidate for Annabeth.

If Annabeth Chase were real she would love Leah and she would hate you all for saying Leah isn't her.

Rant ended. Get your heads out of your asses before you say more racist shit.

[the20thangel]

The Emperor and His Lady Chapter 4

Summary: The Gladiator games begin as Arabella allows herself to go closer to Geta. A new face or foe shows up, and Arabella decides another type of game needs to start, with her being the winner.

Word Count: 2K

Tags: small descriptions of violence ( more spoilers for the movie, just in case.)

taglist: @barcelonaloverf1life @justnobodynothingmore

Masterlist

As the next day rose, Arabella prepared for the gladiator fights. She never really enjoyed such violence, but it was the entertainment norm in Rome. Looking at her garments, she was unsure which to wear; she contemplated so much that her thoughts were broken only when Marcella entered her chambers. Smiling at the Concubine, she embraced her and asked about her morning. 

“Well, so far, sweet one, I heard you spent most of the day with Emperor Geta. I hope he wasn’t too cruel?” she questioned, looking at the young woman to see if she had hints of mistreatment. 

Arabella shook her head; She and Geta never spoke of their lost son, so no one knew why yesterday was so hard for them both. She would not start now; she did not want to share her heartache, at least not with anyone in the palace. As Marcella smiled, she looked at the garments Arabella had laid out for today. Seeing the majority red, she frowned and asked if she had any other colors. Confused by the request, Arabella turned and took out a few garments: light green, light purple, and white. 

“Wear the purple one, my dear. Emperor Geta is wearing a golden and dark blue, and Emperor Caracalla is wearing red and gold.” Marcella requested as she helped Arabella dress. 

“Why the change? It's usually Geta who wears red…” Arabella pondered but was grateful for the news; she did not want to give Caracalla the wrong impression that they should match. 

“Who knows with them two, but we must please, and Geta would not be pleased to see you in red today.” Marcella chuckled, truly not understanding the minds of the twin emperors. 

As Arabella finished dressing, both women left her chambers searching for their emperors. Walking down the steps, Arabella noticed the crowd waiting to ride with the emperors. General Acacius and Former Empress Lucilla, her father, and her uncle were included. Both her Father and Uncle smiled at her. It had been some time since they last saw her, and both were relieved she had not been dismissed from the emperors. She inclined her head toward them to show her respect before turning and bowing to her lady. Lucilla quickly roamed her eyes before embracing Arabella, whispering condolences from yesterday, which only led to Acacius raising a question brow to the women, who ignored him. Before everyone could continue, horns blew to signal the Emperors’ arrival. Coming down were Emperors, pleased to see everyone respectfully bow to them. Behind them was a man Arabella had never seen before. As they all rose, the Emperors stopped in front of Arabella and her group; Geta roamed his eyes down her body and again felt something flutter in his chest, seeing her wear colors close to his own. This only made Caracalla roll his eyes, not understanding the significance of color matching. 

As the Emperors walked, Geta paused and turned back, an arm extended towards Arabella. 

“Arabella come…” Geta commanded as everyone widened their eyes. 

It had been years since Arabella had walked by her emperor’s side. Trying to ignore the staring, Arabella, steady and holding her head up, walked to Geta, took his arm, and continued to walk to the chariots waiting for them. Everyone shared numerous looks, some uneasy, some confused, and a few pleased, before they, too, followed the emperors to the Colosseum. 

The Colosseum was buzzing with excitement for the games. The one good thing the emperors were known for was their ability to entertain the people. While the rest of the concubines walked to their section left from the Emperor's box, Arabella, still in arms with Geta, was led into the royal box with Marcus Acacius, Lucilla, the strange man, and several Senators. 

As the group mingled briefly before the start of the games, the strange man, seeing Geta drinking wine with his brother, walked to the young lady. 

“Ah, Concubine Arabella, if I am not mistaken.” said the man, wearing fine clothing but still looking out of place. 

 Many stopped and stared at the interaction. Yes, even though technically Arabella was a concubine, no one, not one person in court, had ever dared to greet her using that title; she was always addressed as a Lady. 

Arabella, however, did not show her discomfort. She stared at the unknown person with a raised, unamused eyebrow and responded, “Yes, and who you might be?”. 

Macrinus laughed, clearly having underestimated the young lady, and introduced himself, “I am Macrinus; I have brought a new batch of gladiators for today’s games. I must say you are quite a beau-” 

“Then I hope for your sake, Macrinus, your gladiators provided a good fight and plenty of entertainment for my Impertors and Rome. My Impertors do not like wasting their time on boring games.” Arabella interrupted, having been in court for years and raised to stand and hold her own in the vipers of court.  

Macrinus's eyes grew in shock as the crowd chuckled at the lady's bluntness, including Acacius and Lucilla, so much so that they looked like proud parents. Geta and Caracalla also laughed into their wine while Geta felt a sense of pride in seeing his lady so dignified, burning someone with her sharp words. Arabella, smirking, inclined her head as she walked down, sitting beside Lucilla and Acacius behind Geta’s throne. Horns rang again to indicate the start of the games as the Master of Games provided his speech to rile up the people. Once he introduced the Twin Emperors, Geta and Caracalla saluted the people, and they turned to General Aciacus. 

“General, a few words to the people of Rome.” Commanded Geta. 

Caracalla turned and raised his arms, “General, the people are waiting…”

Acacius turned, looking to his wife, who nervously nodded. As he turned to walk down, he made eye contact with Arabella, who gave him a small smile and nodded to the General. Unfortunately, Geta noticed, and his face grew darker, his patience leaving him. 

“Now, General.” He commanded through his gritted teeth. 

Acacius cleared his throat as he began addressing the Colosseum's people. As he spoke, Arabella, noticing Geta's soured mood, quickly poured more wine, wanting to appease the emperor before his temper grew. She leaned down, silently offering her peace offering. Geta turned his head and saw the wine from his lady, smirking as he accepted the gift. Turning back his attention to the general, Arabella, sighing in relief, leaned back only to inhale sharply as Acacius finished his speech. 

“...Rome needs it more than ever…” 

The royal box froze, hoping the emperors did not understand the small slight spoken towards them. The two emperors glanced at each other, unsure if it was a slight to them. Acacius bowed as he turned back to return to his seat beside his wife. 

Exhaling, Arabella prepared herself for the long day, watching bloodshed after bloodshed. Then one of Caracalla’s favorites comes out on top of a rhino. A group of men, presumably Macrinus’s mean, came out, waiting for the battle to commence. Before the battle began, one man stabbed his sword on the ground. He grabbed a handful of soil and rubbed it through his hands. Caracalla laughed, taunting the actions, while Lucilla softly gasped as she stared at the man in shock. This caused Acacius and Arabella to turn to her in confusion. 

The Battle began, with one gladiator being killed by being squashed by the rhino, causing Geta to stick his tongue out in sadistic delight while Caracalla clapped. Arabella stifled a gag, closing her eyes briefly before continuing to watch. As the gladiators began to work together, the crowd cheered for the bloodshed. Again, the rhino charged toward one gladiator named Hano, but luckily, the man jumped away, causing the animal to slam into the wall. The crowd cheered, with the emperors running towards the edge to look down. Arabella squirmed, growing anxious with how violent this fight was becoming. Soon, the battle ended, and Hano won the fight. At first, Geta provided mercy for his gladiator, but when Hano ignored him, he turned his thumb down and grinned as Hano killed the previous gladiator. Lucilla closed her eyes in sadness to see her newly found son so angry with rage. 

Soon, the crowds left, with the General and his wife leaving for their villa and Arabella following her emperors back to the palace. The party continued, and Arabella faded into the background as Geta and Caracalla surrounded themselves with various concubines.  Humming her sad lullaby again to herself, she sipped wine and walked around the room, greeting senators and other nobles. As she made her rounds, she was met with the scene of Geta and Caracalla laughing. Drunk and feeling devious, Caracalla grabbed Arabella's arm, side-eyeing his brother, and leaned to the lady. 

“Concubine Arabella, you look divine today. You should wear less red and more colorful colors like this one; they will suit you better than red.” he chuckled as he leaned to smell her hair. 

Arabella cringed as she tried to push herself away from Caracalla. She felt another hand on her arm and pulled her towards them. Landing on Geta’s lap, the elder glared at his brother as he pressed his lady to his body. Grateful for being away from the younger emperor, Arabella, she pushed herself further into Geta, placing her face in his neck. 

“I’d have to disagree, brother; Arabella looks best in red because they are my colors; this shows the court who she belongs to… Which is mine!” exclaimed Geta, ensuring everyone knew that Arabella was only his to play with. 

Caracalla’s face fell before turning red with anger as he left the party to his chambers, a few concubines following suit, hoping to ease the mood of the younger emperor. Geta sighed, signaling for a guard to step forward. 

“Take Lady Arabella back to her chambers safely,” he commanded as he raised her off his lap. Grunting when another concubine quickly took her spot. 

As the guard agreed and turned, Arabella lowered her eyes, turning to Geta. 

“Pleasant dreams, my Imperator,” she whispered as she left the room and headed to her chambers. Geta watched as her figure left before he, too, decided he was done; pushing the person from his lap, he ignored the outcry as he made his way to his chambers. 

Once Arabella reached her room, she thanked the guard and went inside, surprised to see Marcella waiting for her. 

“Marcella, I had not seen you at the feast; where were you?” She questioned her companion. 

Marcella tearfully smiled at her and embraced her. “I have come to say goodbye and to warn you.” 

“Goodbye, what? Why?” answered Arabella, shocked by the news. 

“I have been let go; I am no longer a concubine. My time has ended… but I must warn you before I leave.” Marcella explained. 

Arabella shook her head. “No, you can’t go; you are my sole companion here…I will find a way to stay close to you.” 

“Arabella, sweet girl, even if I cannot stay, I will always protect you… please listen… you need to lay with Emperor Geta …soon.” Marcella interrupted as she grabbed the young lady’s hands, staring straight into her brown eyes. 

“What. Why are you telling me this?” questioned Arabella, shocked by what she had heard. 

Marcella wryly glanced to see if anybody was nearby, “Once Emperor Caracalla dismissed me, I saw a strange man approach him; I could not hear what they were talking about until I heard Caracalla express jealously that Geta has kept you untouched for many years. The man… told Caracalla that he was Emperor, so it was in his right to use any of the concubines he saw fit. I think he will try soon, as everything is so busy because of the games. Please, Bella, give your body just once to Geta; if you do, he will have you closer to him, and Caracalla can’t get to you.” 

Arabella gasped, shocked at the lengths Caracalla would go to. Then she grew angry hearing the description of the man as she connected the dots to his identity: Macrinus planted the idea. She decided she would no longer be a pawn used by men for their silly games. She could also play the game to protect herself and her staff. 

“Thank you for telling me, Marcella. Take your things and place them in my servant's chambers. You will now be my handmaiden and my eyes and ears in this palace,” she thanked the older woman. 

She closed her door and turned to her mirror, her face dark with determination. She would not lose.

[rainbowberriesandcookies]

"Orihime being afraid of Ichigo's hollow power shows she doesn't fully accept him."

I see this take and similar ones pop up from anti fans of Ichigo and Orihime and try to say that Orihime is bad, in the wrong, etc. for being afraid of his hollowfication powers when her first encounter with a hollow was her brother Sora.

I know the anime did a lot of damage to Orihime's character - especially by taking these scenes out and altering them compared to the manga - but when Ichigo begins to undergo the same process as Sora, it only makes sense that she's afraid.

Not because she's afraid of Ichigo but because what he can become.

And just like Sora said, "It would be [her] fault"

Also - this is to counter the whole "Ichigo and Orihime were never close/barely friends/just acquaintances" that I see floating around often too.

But all in all - Orihime was never afraid of Ichigo. She was afraid of what he could have become.

As Acidwire, Sora targeted Orihime because of her growing bonds with Tatsuki and Ichigo. He even says that he attacked them because they tried to tear him and Orihime apart and that she already knew why.

For clarity - what I'm about to say isn't me saying that Sora was abusive in life and I'm going to specifically try to use his name as a hollow "Acidwire" as much as possible to express the slight separation between Sora as he was while he was alive and Sora as he was when he became Acidwire.

Especially since early on, it established that hollows - while they were once former humans - often end up being twisted versions of the people they once were.

Now onto the point -

The "You already know why" isn't dissimilar from how abusers, manipulators, etc. often talk to their victims when they're angry or upset. It's similar to the silent treatment in a way where it implies that the victim intentionally made the abuser upset.

He references her prayers for him every day helped ease his own suffering before she became friends with Tatsuki and entered high school before she stopped praying for him altogether. He then says how it hurt him that when she got home, all she would talk about was Ichigo.

For one - the fact that Acidwire knows this proves that Ichigo and Orihime were at least already friends by the time the manga started. In contrast to the anime where Ichigo outright says to Rukia that they've "never had a real conversation"

Anyways - this here in and of itself proves Ichigo and Orihime at least knew each other beyond just acquaintances - because they were close enough for Acidwire to notice and be hurt by it.

She tries to defend herself but he cuts her off before attacking Ichigo again

Acidwire tells her to come with him back to when it was just the two of them. In the context of the story, this would basically be him killing her.

However, this is also a tactic abusers use known as isolation.

When she questions why she should go with him and why he'd hurt Ichigo and Tatsuki before saying that the brother she loved would have never done anything like this.

I feel like in the anime, it kinda breezed by these moments which are honestly heartbreaking in hindsight and key for the leadup to why Orihime was afraid when Ichigo would use his hollow mask.

but Acidwire's response to her refusal and saying that the brother she loved would never do this is to not just harm her, but blame her and say that he is going to kill her.

In the time that she's become friends with Ichigo and Tatsuki and slowly grew happier, Acidwire blamed her for his own despair and sadness.

The kind, loving older brother that she had always known became a monster that would kill her and everyone close to her, and it would be her fault that he did because she stopped praying for him.

Here, it shows how Acidwire views Orihime not as a person who should live her own fulfilling life, but as an object who should live for him because he gave up his entire life to raise and protect her.

Once again, not to say that Sora was an abuser or abusive person, but this line of logic is the same one that abusive and toxic parents often use when it comes to emotionally abusing their children. Saying how the sacrificed so much for their children to control how their children live their own lives when the child never asked to be born. Similarly, Orihime didn't ask to be born or ask for Sora to raise her.

Sora did because that's the kind of person that he is, but Acidwire turns these loving traits of Sora's into a manifestation of abuse.

And even though she has nothing to be sorry for... She apologizes to Acidwire because that's the kind of person she is.

It also shows how she puts on a smile so that way others don't have to worry about her. She didn't want Sora to think that she was sad and hurting, she didn't want him to worry about her so she buried and hid her own sadness.

She apologizes to Acidwire for making him sad and (in what she thinks are probably her last moments) says that she loves him and that she didn't mean to hurt him.

As he's slowly regaining himself, Sora admits that he already knew that Orihime was just trying to shield her sadness from him but still wanted her to pray for him because it was only in those moments that her heart was his.

Ichigo then tells him that it's the same, those who die and those who survive are just as sad as the other.

It's in this moment Sora had fully regained himself, enough to know that he couldn't stay in a form like this or else he'd come to hurt Orihime again. If he killed the little sister that he raised like a daughter over his own heartache, would he have been any better than their own abusive parents?

And finally, the two get to say goodbye properly.

Also - a side note - a lot of people criticize Orihime's passive nature and how she never seems to fight or argue with anyone but it's because the one time that she did have a fight with someone, they died and became a monster.

This entire sequence emphasizes why Orihime always tries to reach out to others in need and never argues or fights. She doesn't want her friends or even strangers, to become like how Sora became Acidwire.

Now, Rukia had changed/erased Orihime's memories following this event but it likely didn't work as intended since during the Rukia rescue arc, Orihime mentions that she's been able to see hollows and spirits ever since the encounter with Acidwire.

Now let's go ahead and jump ahead to VL Ichigo -

Going to Hueco Mundo - Ichigo already knew without having to be told or convinced by anyone that Orihime was in danger. Aizen did his best to make it look like Orihime was a traitor to the Soul Society and Ichigo never bought it

It's being put in plainer and plainer terms that Ichigo transformed as a response to Orihime's call for help.

Even if you want to argue that there was a mistranslation or that Ichigo doesn't directly reference Orihime, even if you remove all of the text the sequence of events goes

Orihime's cries

Ichigo began to move and get up - functionally coming back from being dead

Once again, even if you want to remove the text avoid arguing about whether or not it was properly translated - nevermind the fact that in Japanese pronouns are often omitted and there is a big assumption to just know who/what you are talking about -

Even without text, the images show Orihime crying, and Ichigo beginning to come back to life.

Both she and Ulquiorra question whether that is Ichigo

Now that said, I think that Ichigo vs Ulquiorra is one of the most brutal and best fights in the series. Both Uryu and Orihime know that this isn't Ichigo.

Yet remember how it is established that hollows often become twisted versions of the people they once were? This is a power that Ichigo can't control and yet uses it to protect the person who called out to him.

While I don't disagree with the notion that this is also White protecting Ichigo, it doesn't change the fact that Kubo intentionally drew Orihime and Ichigo rising side by side multiple times. Even without text, Kubo places emphasis on her and her cries for help against VL Ichigo - not White or Zangetsu.

And when Uryu tries to bring him back to his senses what does Ichigo do? Put a sword through him.

Once again, even if you want to remove any and all text, Kubo puts VL Ichigo paneled side by side with Orihime, and when Ichigo comes back to his senses

The first person that he sees is Orihime.

As much as I want, I'll save my yapping about Ulquiorra for a separate time.

But for a moment, even if only briefly, his desires to protect were twisted in a way that hurt those around him, and once again - Orihime was the catalyst.

Ichigo says that he didn't want to win like this - showing that he views fights as something more honorable than what White/VL Ichigo had done. His last memory being that he had a hole put in his chest, also shows that he more or less "blacked out" and had no control over his actions.

What is one of the things established when people become hollows?

That they lose control of themselves and their desires are twisted.

The difference between Ichigo and Acidwire is that Ichigo wants to protect Orihime while Acidwire wanted to own her - which is why Ichigo never directly harms Orihime even as he loses control of himself.

But - all of this yapping is to show how from Orihime's perspective, hollowfication and hollow powers aren't good. They turn people into monsters that hurt their friends and loved ones.

It's also established that Orihime is the type of person who will internalize her own thoughts and feelings (it isn't ""hubris"" as some people call it).

Whether or not you want to argue that it was an assumption that Ichigo became a VL because she cried for help, it doesn't change the fact that she still cried for help and that Ichigo became a hollow/VL.

From her own perspective, she blames herself regardless of whether or not you think that it is an assumption on her part that Ichigo became a VL to protect her.

And after all - why wouldn't she blame herself when her first encounter with a hollow - Acidwire - blamed her for the monster that he became?

I know I skipped over him using his mask in the fight with Grimmjow, but I already yap too much and wanted to try to keep an already long post short(er).

Anyway - all of this illustrates the trauma that Orihime has regarding hollows and hollowfication. It's not truly her fault - yet in both instances she blames herself.

And not just Kubo, but Ichigo himself is fully aware of this.

Which is why when he tells her not to worry and that he's still himself is so important - because it shows that Ichigo has learned to control that side of himself while at the same time, being aware that Orihime is someone who has been traumatized by hollows and hollowfication.

Ultimately - she doesn't want Ichigo to become a monster like Sora. For Ichigo, it's growth in his own ability while for Orihime it's comfort in knowing that Ichigo won't lose himself fighting to protect those he cares about.

In short, she isn't afraid of Ichigo - she was scared of him becoming a monster like Sora had.

[jacki567]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗣𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗠𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝘆 (𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙌𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙍𝙝𝙖𝙚𝙣𝙮𝙧𝙖 𝙏𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙮𝙚𝙣 “𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣-𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙙” 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧, 𝙋𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙔/𝙣 𝙏𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙮𝙚𝙣, “𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙌𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣’𝙨 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩”

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙘!𝙍𝙝𝙖𝙚𝙣𝙮𝙧𝙖 𝙏𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙮𝙚𝙣 𝙭 𝙙𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Ever since she was a but a young girl, Rhaenyra had wanted nothing more than to have a little sister.

Growing up, the sight of her mother confined to her bed, her stomach swelling with each passing moon was a common sight. Since she was old enough to realise what was happening, Rhaenyra swore that every babe her mother carried was going to be the sister she so desperately desired. She never understood why people would laugh, why they would give her father a shake of their heads, and yet when they spoke of her having a brother nothing but pride was seen on their faces, a nod instead of a shake. She wouldn't understand until she was older, and the reasoning angered her to no end.

However, Queen Aemma Arryn would never be able to give Rhaenyra the sister she so desperately wanted, and she would never be able to watch her only surviving child grow and have children of her own.

Since the day of her mother's funeral, Rhaenyra swore that she wanted no children of her own. But she was her father's heir now, and she realised that one day she would need an heir of her own. Her thoughts went to Daemon, thinking by the time she was crowned Queen that he would have a child that she could name as her heir. If her own cousin, Lady Jeyne Arryn, could do so, then so could she.

However, Rhaenyra wasn't granted that wish. In order to keep Otto Hightower away from the Keep, to put an end to his schemes and to send him back to Oldtown, Rhaenyra had to marry... and who better than her cousin, Ser Laenor, who held no attraction to her or to any other woman. This had been a good thing at the beginning of their marriage, but Rhaenyra soon heard the whispers spreading throughout the Keep.

'Perhaps she is barren.'

'If she can't even produce an heir, how can we expect her to ascend the throne one day?'

'It won't be long before the King names Prince Aegon as his successor.'

Rhaenyra knew that she needed an heir of her own to keep her inheritance. Laenor was a kind man who treated Rhaenyra with nothing but respect, but he never desired her. His true desires lay with men, and no matter how many times they had tried to conceive their heir, none had been successful.

And soon, Rhaenyra had to take drastic matters.

The Princess was an incredibly observant woman and she was well aware that Ser Harwin Strong had been quite enamoured with her since her... stunt at Prince Aegon's second name-day. Rhaenyra sought Harwin out and after some time spent together, both gave into their desires. It had been a relationship of convenience in the beginning, but Rhaenyra soon found herself developing feelings for Harwin. He was kind to her, caring and incredibly loving. He was everything she wished for in a husband.

It didn't take long for Rhaenyra to notice that her monthly blood hadn't arrived.

She was with child, and the fear hit her.

-

Nothing could’ve prepared her for the sudden changes in her body, the flurry of emotions ( both good and bad ), and the nausea that came during the first few moons. Seeing her mother going through these changes was one thing, but experiencing them yourself was completely different. Laenor had been by her side during every step of the way, proving himself to be a devoted husband, someone who truly cared for her wellbeing. The days had been long and difficult, but with men as kind and caring as Laenor and Harwin surrounding her, her first pregnancy went by quicker than she ever could've imagined.

And soon enough, Rhaenyra was able to hold her firstborn child in her arms; a daughter.

Since the moment her daughter had been placed into her arms, Rhaenyra went silent. The room was full of noise, but all of her attention was on her beautiful babe. Y/n was a quiet babe, with a head of brown curls, soft chubby cheeks, and her eyes were as lilac as the flowers in the garden. She was a beautiful babe, and Rhaenyra’s father, Viserys, couldn't help but to agree. No matter her appearance not being that of a typical Valyrian, King Viserys adored his granddaughter since the moment he saw her. Laenor had been full of shock when Y/n had been placed into his arms for the very first time, but his heart swole with love when her tiny fingers wrapped themselves around his pointer finger; he was a goner. And Ser Harwin... Harwin couldn't believe that he was the father to a beautiful baby girl. He was overjoyed, never passing up the chance to hold Y/n in his arms in the privacy of Rhaenyra's chambers. She was finally here, the very thing he had wished for so long.

Many believed that once Rhaenyra's second child was born, Jacaerys, that he would be named as heir, but Rhaenyra never faltered in her choice; Y/n would be her heir. Rhaenyra would teach her everything that she would ever need to know; from politics, to strategic thinking, even when doing her hair... she would teach Y/n everything. Y/n was hers. Hers to love, hers to keep and hers to treasure for all time.

It wasn't long until Princess Y/n Velaryon was given a name by the Small Folk; The Heir's Heart.

-

Years passed within the blink of an eye. King Viserys was now dead, Rhaenyra was now Queen, and Princess Y/n Velaryon, now Princess Y/N Targaryen, was Princess of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne. Y/n stood closely by her mother at seven-and-ten name-days, her hand resting on the hilt of the dagger that was strapped to her side, a mannerism that reminded Rhaenyra very much of Daemon, who was now Y/n's step-father. Lucerys stood on Y/n's left hand side, nervously playing with a stray piece of thread that hung from Y/n's sleeve. None could see the action because Y/n had taken a protective stance in front of her younger brother.

Y/n bore an emotionless mask on her face as her mother agreed to send Jace and Luke as envoys, never considering to send her own heir to speak on her behalf. Yet, Y/n would never cause an outburst during the first Small Council meeting of her mother, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. However, Rhaenyra knew her daughter better than anyone and she was able to see the twitch of her lilac eyes, her pursed lips and tight expression; she wasn't happy.

Once the Small Council had been dismissed, Rhaenyra gestured for Y/n to follow her. Without a word, Y/n followed behind her mother, her hands clasped behind her back as her red and black dress flowed behind her. They came to a stop inside the library, a place of peace for Y/n.

Queen Rhaenyra looked at Y/n. "What troubles you, sweet girl?"" Rhaenyra's hand cupped Y/n's cheek just like she did when she was a child. "Tell your mother."

Y/n hated when she was upset with her mother, but she couldn't help but to feel this way.

"I am your heir, yet you send Jace and Luke to be your envoys, whilst I am to sit back and do nothing? In what world does that make sense, Mother? I am your heir, let me be your voice."

Rhaenyra's breath was caught in her throat. She knew that Y/n wasn't one to sit back whilst everyone else did work. Yet, Rhaenyra couldn't bring herself to include Y/n as being her envoy. Sending her sweet boys was bad enough, but to send her only surviving daughter into danger was a thought that Rhaenyra didn't wish to think.

"You are my heir, my successor," Rhaenyra's thumb stroked Y/n's cheekbone. "And that is why I need you here. If anything were to happen, the throne would pass to you."

Y/n stepped away, her features screwed up with frustration. "If I were a son, I would be sent out to be your envoy... just like Jace and Luke."

And she was correct, Rhaenyra couldn't deny that.

"Please, Y/n, I need you here with me," her eyes were full of a desperation for Y/n to listen to her. "You are my daughter, my heart. If something were to happen to you..."

Y/n looked to her mother, eyes wide. "Mother, I know you are scared. After losing V-Visenya," Rhaenyra's heart ached at the thought of her lost babe, "you couldn't bear to lose another, but you won't lose me."

Y/n took her mother's hands in her own, lilac eyes clashing with lilac eyes. "Let me be your voice. Let me defend your birthright."

Rhaenyra lowered her head, gripping onto Y/n's hands with all of her might. She would give her daughter the world if she asked, but Y/n was asking her to knowingly send her into danger, to put herself in harms way.

And, as if she could tell what her mother would say, Y/n interrupted her.

"You once said you'd give me anything I wished, and what I wish for is to advocate for my Queen. To fight for my mother's birthright," Y/n and Rhaenyra looked at once another. "Allow me to do so."

Rhaenyra was conflicted. From the doorway of the library stood Daemon. He gave her a brief nod, Y/n’s dedication to fight for Rhaenyra’s birthright was an admiration. Y/n would be a worthy asset to have. She was a dragon rider, her mount being the wild dragon Grey Ghost. She had been the very first to claim the elusive wild dragon, who was much like herself in many ways; both were quiet, yet fiercely loyal. The sight of the Queen’s heir, a woman that held the blood of the dragon, atop of the mysterious wild dragon, Grey Ghost, who none had managed to claim before should send the Queen’s enemies a message of the power that the Queen and her heir held.

The Green’s had Vhagar, but the Black’s had more dragons.

Ignoring the clenching of her heart, Rhaenyra but her lip and gave Y/n a curt nod. “If that is what you wish, then you shall fly to the Eyrie. You shall meet my cousin, Lady Jeyne Arryn, and pass along my words. After, you shall fly to Highgarden to meet with Lady Tyrell. Her son is a mere child and she is the Regent. Connect with her, ally her to our side. Then you return to me.”

Y/n nodded. “As you wish, my Queen.”

-

Compared to the looming figure of Grey Ghost, Y/n seemed tiny compared to the giant beast. She had always been tall for her age, but when stood beside her bonded mount, it could make anyone realise just how young the Princess actually was. Whilst she held the eyes of her mother, the smile of her father, and many facial features from her Grandmother Aemma, Y/n was but a girl of seven-and-ten name-days.

She hadn’t been able to see the wonders the world had to offer, and Rhaenyra swore to herself that when her throne was won, Y/n would know every corner of the Kingdom that she would one day rule.

“You’re worried,” Y/n stated as she threw a fish into the open jaws of Grey Ghost, who swallowed the large fish in one bite. “The Eyrie isn’t far, Mother. Lady Jeyne is family, your cousin.”

Rhaenyra stepped forward. “And Aegon is my brother, your uncle. Would he welcome you with open arms?”

Y/n chewed her bottom lip, knowing that her mother was correct. If she were to ever step foot into the Keep at this moment, she would be imprisoned, possibly killed in order to eliminate the threat to Aegon’s “rule”.

Y/n looked to her mother who held herself like a ruler would, but the worry of being a mother were beginning to shine through. Jacaerys had been adamant that he would be fine and, whilst still cautious, Rhaenyra had accepted that. However, with Luke and Y/n… they were her sweethearts. So much like their Grandmother, yet so much like herself at the same time. Seeing them leave… it was something she hadn’t been able to prepare herself for.

“You must understand, I am your mother, first and foremost, Y/n. I always will be. A mother is granted the ability to worry endlessly for her children.”

Y/n smiled softly. “And a mother’s children are granted the ability to defend their mother’s birthright.”

The laugh that escaped Rhaenyra’s lips couldn’t be stopped. In this very moment it was as if Rhaenyra was staring at her teenage self, only this reflection held brown hair.

“I suppose you are correct,” Rhaenyra stepped closer, knowing that Grey Ghost would not harm her. “Even as a child, you always stood for what you believe in. Jace and Luke were more quiet, but if anyone dared speak ill of myself, your brothers, even your Grandsire…” she chuckled. “The blood of the dragon really shone through.”

Y/n reached forward and squeezed Rhaenyra’s hands, feeling two pieces of parchment in her left hand as she did. She looked down at the letters and saw the official seal of House Targaryen stamped upon it.

“For you to deliver to Lady Jeyne and Lady Tyrell,” Rhaenyra spoke, falling into the role of Queen. “I hope Jeyne sees my mother in you and it reminds her of an oath she once swore,” and the other letter. “And for Lady Tyrell. She is a mysterious woman, but I do hope you could find common ground.”

Behind Y/n, Jace and Luke emerged with their dragons in tow, Vermax and Arrax. Her brothers were awaiting Y/n to join them, wanting to fly together for as far as they could with their Grandmother Rhaenys before parting ways; Jace to the North, Rhaenys to patrol the Gullet, Luke to Storms End and Y/n to the Vale and the Reach.

“I will return with the support of House Arryn and House Tyrell,” Y/n held her head high. “I swear it.”

Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen looked between her three eldest children with nothing but love and pride filling her heart. She gave them a nod, addressing them all.

“You shall go as envoys, not as warriors. I want you to swear this to me… not as your mother but as your Queen.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, Y/n, Jace and Luke swore to their mother. They would not wield a sword, only the words of the true and rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

Rhaenyra mustered up a small smile. “Now, off to it.”

Jace climbed atop of Vermax, strapping his legs into the saddle. Both Luke and Y/n stood by their dragons, but they couldn’t help but to turn back and look at their mother with nervousness in their eyes. No matter how much she wished to go, to prove herself as a worthy heir, Y/n was nervous that she wouldn’t return home or even worse, that her brothers wouldn’t return home.

“Come back to me,” Rhaenyra told her children. “No matter of support, return to me safely.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Queen Rhaenyra watched as Luke and Y/n climbed atop of Arrax and Grey Ghost, strapping themselves into their saddles like Jace had done moments before. Wearing three matching cloaks of blood red, the three eldest children of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen rose to the skies on their dragons, unsure of what was to come, but knowing they would do anything to gain support for their mother’s claim.

-

The flight to the Eyrie wasn’t a long one, and Grey Ghost circled the mountain the castle was located on. From below, Y/n heard the yells of the guards, the panic in their voices as they saw a dragon circling the Vale. Grey Ghost swooped down towards the courtyard of the Eyrie, and Y/n saw many guards with hands on the swords and archers with arrows ready to be released. Grey Ghost landed in the courtyard with a thud, his roar echoing throughout the mountains of the Vale.

Lady Jeyne had recognised Y/n immediately. She had last seen the Princess when she was nine name-days old, but when she saw the face of Aemma Arryn staring back at her, it wasn’t hard to realise that this girl was the granddaughter of the Vale’s Queen.

Negotiations started as soon as Y/n entered the castle and many were agreeable terms. Jeyne would support Rhaenyra no matter what, but Jeyne needed protection for herself, for her home and for her people; dragons would suffice. And knowing that Joffrey’s dragon was already growing to quite the size, Y/n agreed. She would send word to her mother in due time that Joffrey was needed in the Vale where he would be kept safe.

Lady Jeyne insisted that Y/n stay and rest, and she agreed. The cousins feasted, told stories of their family, and none could remember a time when Lady Jeyne laughed so freely. Safe to say, it was a saddening sight to see Princess Y/n Targaryen leave the Vale upon her dragon, Grey Ghost.

-

The flight to Highgarden had been a longer flight, because Y/n had to be careful not to be seen by any Hightower soldiers or guards. This is when Grey Ghost’s certain attitude became useful as he was able to fly into the clouds, his grey scales blending into the clouds to keep himself and Y/n hidden to all below. They had stayed in the clouds until they reached the outer skirts of Highgarden, where Grey Ghost swooped down into the courtyard of House Tyrell.

“Dragon!”

Guards unsheathed their swords and pointed them at Y/n. Grey Ghost released a loud roar, baring his sharp teeth at the guards in defence of his rider.

“We are not here to harm you,” Y/n assured. “My name is Princess Y/n Targaryen, daughter of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen. I have come to speak with Lady Tyrell.”

A woman walked into the courtyard, head held high. “And so you shall, Princess. Please, follow me.”

Y/n had been most nervous to meet with Lady Tyrell as they had nothing in common. One was a widow, one has never been married. One has a child, one has never even bedded a man. Yet, to everyone’s shock, Lady Tyrell took quite a liking to the young Princess.

“You remind me of my dear sister,” Lady Tyrell reminisced softly. “She passed many years ago, and you are how I imagine her.”

“I thank you for the comparison, my Lady. It’s an honour.”

Although Lady Tyrell had grown fond of Y/n, negotiations were tough. Lady Tyrell didn’t wish for her son to be put in any danger and Y/n couldn’t promise his everlasting safety. Negotiations went back and forth until a letter arrived at Highgarden.

Y/n recognised the seal, as Lady Tyrell opened the letter and read its contents. The woman’s eyes widened as she looked up at Y/n, her eyes holding sympathy and heartache. She held the letter out for Y/n to take and the Princess began to read the contents. She recognised the writing of her cousin, Baela, but her neat handwriting was now a scrawl, the page littered with damp spots throughout.

‘Lucerys… didn’t come home… Vhagar… Aemond… storm… Dead.’

Y/n didn’t realise that she was crying until Lady Tyrell crouched beside her and wiped away her tears with her thumb. Y/n held herself high but it was now that Lady Tyrell saw how young Y/n was; she was still just a child. Their negotiations may have been tough, but a man who chases a boy on a war dragon through a rough storm was no man she, nor her house, would ever follow.

“Return home, little dragon,” Lady Tyrell instructed. “You have my support. I await a raven from your Mother instructing the war for her reign.”

-

Y/n had just lost Luke, she didn’t expect to lose Jace so soon afterwards. It was supposed to have been her to fly above the Gullet to ensure the safety of their younger brothers, Aegon and Viserys, but Jace insisted that he was more than capable. Y/n trusted Jace… Why did she have to trust him?

Her mother wasn’t the same anymore. She never smiled, her eyes were dull, she rarely ever ate and her words were full of a rage that Y/n had never heard before.

“It should’ve been me up there, Baela,” Y/n whispered to Baela. “Why was he so stubborn? Why did I let him go?”

Baela turned to Y/n, eyes full of heartbreak. “Jace would’ve went anyways. He couldn’t protect Luke, so he wanted to protect you, Aegon, and Viserys.”

Y/n scoffed bitterly. “And I failed in protecting them both. I am the elder sibling! I should’ve protected them both, and I failed in that! And now Viserys is missing, most likely dead! Because of my idiocy!”

And just like her mother, Y/n turned into a person than none recognised. And this only brought her further into madness when the death of her younger brother, Joffrey reached her ears.

Fell from Syrax.

Broken from the fall.

Still breathing whilst the Small Folk tore him apart!

Y/n couldn’t find anymore sadness within her, only rage. What was stopping her from burning Kings Landing to the ground?

One person.

“We shall get our revenge,” Rhaenyra assured her daughter, eyes full of nothingness. “With Fire and Blood.”

-

Y/n had heard rumours that Aegon the Usurper now resided on Dragonstone… the very place that Y/n told Rhaenyra to run to. After the storming of the Dragonpit, many dragons were lost including the Queen’s own dragon, Syrax. With no money for safe passage, Rhaenyra was forced to sell her crown in order to protect herself and Aegon, her last remaining son.

Y/n had stayed behind in order to take revenge on those who had killed Joffrey, to those who had killed innocent dragons. She wasn’t known as, ‘The 𝙌𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣’𝙨 Heart’ anymore.

She was known as, ‘The Queens Executioner’.

Yet, as she was about to feed a man to Grey Ghost, he yelled as loudly as he could.

“Aegon is on Dragonstone! He plans to murder your Mother! To murder your brother!”

Y/n grabbed a fistful of the man’s hair, bringing his head closer to hers, her lips pressed against his ear.

“Your lies won’t prevent your death.”

With that, Grey Ghost’s jaws clamped down around the man, swallowing him whole. Yet, Y/n couldn’t help but feel as if his words rang true. She felt as if her mother was in trouble. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she ignored this feeling and it resulted in the death of her mother and last remaining brother.

Y/n jumped atop Grey Ghost and commanded him to fly to Dragonstone. Grey Ghost had never flown faster, feeling the urgency of his rider made him go even faster towards their home. It didn’t take long until they arrived and Y/n was able to see a broken and twisted Sunfyre in the courtyard, an equally as broken Aegon beside him.

“MY DAUGHTER SHALL BRING THE HELLS TO YOU, HALF-BROTHER! SHE WILL AVENGE US!”

Aegon laughed cruelly. “I need not fear that bastard. She’s a woman, what can she do?”

With a rage like no other, Y/n’s voice made everyone look up. Grey Ghost opened his jaws and orange flames shot out, burning Aegon’s supporters alive. Y/n was about to command Grey Ghost to kill more, but she saw Sunfyre inch towards her mother, an orange hue building at the back of his throat.

“I won’t lose you, too.”

With that, Y/n released the straps from the saddle and she jumped off of Grey Ghost. She fell from the sky, landing on the ground before her mother.

“Y/N!” Rhaenyra yelled in horror.

Y/n looked to her, smiling for the first time in many moons. “I love you.”

With that, Y/n shoved Rhaenyra out of the way and Sunfyre clamped his jaws around her. Y/n had never felt pain like this before, as Sunfyre bit down on her over and over again. She thought her pain would never end, until she saw an orange hue build at the back of his throat. With one last look at her mother, Y/n smiled tearfully as she looked towards the sky, watching as Grey Ghost roared in agony, unable to reach his rider before the fire engulfed her body.

-

After the death of Princess Y/n Targaryen, Queen Rhaenyra was the undisputed ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, she was never the same as she once was. She may have found Viserys, but she had lost her babies. Her sweet, sweet, boys and her darling daughter, all whom sacrificed themselves for her.

What kind of mother outlives her children?

Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen didn’t rule for long. Broken by the heartache of losing her four eldest children, the Queen died in her sleep. Many say she died of a broken heart, mourning her children that she never got to see grow old, to see them have children of their own.

She was known throughout history as, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen “The Broken-Hearted”.

[lover-of-mine]

OK since you brought up the Tommy break up thing, well I'm weighing in because this has been bothering me with the narrative it has anything to do with sexuality

Honestly, if you disagree, please enlighten me because I would love to know.

IRL. I dated a guy who had a girl best friend. It didn't bother me at all. She was cool. But after a few months we were out shopping and he saw something that reminded him of her and he got it. Still not threatened but started watching. After subtle questions it was clear they had never been single at the same time. The way he talked about her, seriously subconsciously in love with her. When I did catch deeper feelings, I did initiative a friendly break up. I wasn't jealous or petty. Never even mentioned her. But in the back of mind it was clear. If she ever game him the chance he would probably take it. Who knows how deep I would have been then.

Honestly both the nicest people. To this day nothing has happened between them that brings me to my next point. She maybe wasn't subconsciously in love with him. She never showed any jealousy to me. But the point was I knew he was. That's Tommy's story. If you didn't catch it by his surprised me in E4 then I can't help you.

Them screaming Eddie's straight. It doesn't matter. Tommy knew from the beginning there was a third person in their relationship. He was having fun but avoided the feelings catch. He saw them together. He knows!!!

Long story short take the sexuality out of it. The story makes complete sense. Buck and Eddie were always going to be shadows in each other's relationships. Tommy was just the first to really see.

I totally agree. I was the girl best friend, and not going to detail on how I actually imploded my oldest friendship, my whole life if he got a girlfriend she never reacted well to me and i was always ready to say it's not like that, he's family, and all that. Hell, the day that I realized that I might have been in love with him, I actually like I laughed at the idea of being his girlfriend because someone assumed and then something happened and I was like oh fuck. I never thought about it like that, but he was the only person that my ex would go 🤨, all of his girlfriends I needed to prove myself too (i never had a problem with it, I knew what it looked like it but for me it wasn't like that until it was), it was always a situation where I felt like they were seeing something that we weren't. Now with the current clarity I have about the situation, I'm like okay I see it now, I guess there was something there, I just wasn't aware of it. And Tommy has a clarity that none of Buck's girlfriends had, that it's the fact that he knows Buck is queer. And when you take that into consideration and you look at his relationship with Eddie, there is only so much you can do without being like, okay how long until you wake up and realize you're in love with him. So I think it's a lot about protecting himself in the long run, it's not about sexuality, it's about the fact that Tommy has an insight to Buck and Eddie's relationships that none of the girlfriends ever had. He sees them from an outsider point of view and he has the knowledge that Buck's queer and knowing that it's harder to ignore it, to not be like, yeah how long until I'm in too deep and he realizes his feelings. So yeah, I don't think it's was about the sexuality at all, it was about the the fear of getting into deep and wondering what would happen if Eddie became an option.

[literaila]

wedding planner (katsuki bakugo smau)

fem!reader, no quirks, adult life au

life as an event planner is... quieter than planned. mina ashido, your best friend, views this as a challenge. so when she gets engaged to eijirou kirishima it’s no big surprise that she asks you to plan the ceremony. the objective is simple: create the most magical, perfect wedding in just four months... oh, and accept the help of someone you've been running from since college--katsuki bakugo, who conveniently hates you. easy, right?

part two | next part

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

hating bakugo katsuki comes quite naturally to you.

it's something simple. an emotion that builds in the middle of your sternum and collects in your head. you've never had to think too hard about him, or the negative feelings he invokes.

it's not that you consider yourself someone to hold grudges or make automatic assumptions. someone who hates on principle rather than facts. glimpses rather than actions.

in fact, you’d rather remain entirely nonjudgmental in most situations—so that you don’t have to worry about any of it. there are very few people in the world that you can truly say you hate.

but since he spoke his first word to you, you’ve hated him.

or maybe that’s not true. you only vaguely remember it all happening now, like a single peek of a dream you once lived.

remember seeing him across the room and feeling that you knew exactly who he was. getting one look and understanding that he just wasn’t someone for you.

blonde hair, blood eyes, and an immediate distaste for anything involving your presence. his jaw was already set, when you approached, mind already made.

it was pretty clear when he just glared, ignoring whoever had introduced the two of you, your hand outstretched towards him, and scoffed before he simply walked away.

so, really, even before bakugo katsuki spoke his first word to you—you hated him.

or maybe not. maybe you just hated the way he was looking past you automatically, maybe you just hated that he was frowning, maybe you just hated being dismissed so easily.

or maybe you hated him and the fact that he made you angry without even trying.

anger is an invasive species. it lingers in the pit of your chest, waiting for some version of confirmation bias you can reason out of.

and once it begins to grow it leaks elsewhere—into the stories you tell, the people you know, the glances and shared breaths.

it’s pretty obnoxious, just like bakugo katsuki. funny how that works, isn't it?

and, to clarify, you have spoken multiple words to him. this is nothing new. in fact, you’ve shouted bitter remarks at his back and cursed at his ever-glowing smirk. in classrooms, at parties, in the old contemptible apartments your friends lived in.

but it’s just so simple to hate him.

maybe that’s why you’re standing in front of a coffee shop you’ve never been to, staring at the door. it’s 1:07 pm.

it would be pretty easy to leave, really. you could turn around and take the train back home. back to your bed, with its comforting embrace, and your consistently sparking coffee machine. it doesn’t taste too burnt, after all, and who doesn't like some roasted grounds?

you’re already late anyway, so what’s the harm in never showing up? who is bakugo going to tell? mina?

(he will. he definitely will tell mina and by that point, you’ll have lost a client and a friend, and bakugo katsuki will be pointing and laughing at the sad remains of your life. he’ll probably spit on your shivering body—you know, once you can no longer afford to live in your apartment because you’ve been fired--just for fun).

fuck. you should’ve blocked his and mina’s number.

someone pushes past you, going for the door, and you blink. right. because you’re supposed to open it, walk through, and meet with bakugo who you already know is going to chastise you for being late. you're supposed to hate him, and it's all supposed to be easy.

you take a breath. nod once.

what the hell?

this is all his fault anyway. you would’ve been perfectly happy with doing all the work by yourself--throwing sticky notes around and ignoring the ink stains left on your face from nights sleeping at your desk--and letting kirishima and mina believe he assisted you.

as fucking if.

so you walk through the door, delighting for one brief moment in the smell of coffee beans and souls searching for rehabilitation.

this coffee shop is a lot nicer than any of the ones by your house. not that bakugo needs to know that, or that he has good taste.

just a thought, really.

you look around for a single second before you spot him. it’s easy—just one glimpse of the black shirt, overbearing shoulders, and frowning face. and every other person in the shop seems to be purposefully avoiding him, walking at least six feet away from the table he’s procured at all times.

if only you were them.

“oi,” he calls, eyes finding you faster than you'd expected, already burning as you walk towards him—against your better judgment, of course. “i know you’re an idiot but you can’t even read a fuckin’ clock, now?”

you pull the open chair out with your foot, giving bakugo a bland look. your eyes burn a little bit, just looking at him. “no, actually, i can't. they must only teach that at snobby prick school.”

you sit, your body resisting the entire time. you might last five minutes being this close to him—at most.

bakugo doesn’t say anything, but one brow goes up.

“sorry,” you say, almost reflexively. you're supposed to be civil. you can hear mina's voice criticizing, telling you to give him a chance. you continue, completely monotone. “hi, bakugo. how are you?”

he glares. “could be a hell of a lot better, that’s for sure.”

“tell me about it.”

and then there’s a moment where you both stare at each other, silent and waiting.

here’s what you know about bakugo: he’s not afraid to say whatever he’s thinking, but he’s also not the easiest person to talk to. not the type of person you’d ever feel at ease with. easy conversation isn't either of your specialties, and neither is being here all by yourselves.

so instead of anything even remotely normal, instead of getting to the point, you break the silence with, “no coffee?”

his eyes dart down to the table and then back to yours. you can see the point of his teeth when he begins to talk. “not all of us are fuckin’ addicted.”

“well, you don’t have to deal with your mood swings every day," you look around, hoping that a double shot isn't as expensive as the decor would suggest.

“such a flatterer," bakugo drawls, leaning back, "i was waitin’ for you before i ordered,” he tilts his head to the register, waiting.

“i can go up there myself. i’m a big girl."

he scoffs. “you’re a big fuckin’ mess, that’s for sure. and fuckin' broke, according to raccoon eyes. you know what you want?”

“what i want is to get out of here as soon as possible. so thanks, but no thanks. i don’t need any coffee.”

“ya sure, crazy eyes?” he's smirking like he already knows that he got you.

your eyes narrow. “don’t call me that.”

“think i'll call you whatever the hell i want.”

“then i think this partnership is already over. promise broken.”

“tch," bakugo taps a finger against the table, "i think you’ll fuckin’ reconsider once you take a good look in the mirror—did you sell your bed for some shitty cash?”

“did you sell your soul for a first-class superiority complex?” you retort, so brightly it's almost innocent.

bakugo only rolls his eyes. “didn’t you agree to come here, dumbass?”

“didn’t you demand that i show up?”

bakugo’s lip twitches, minutely. he sighs, turning an arm over to check his watch. he moves calculatingly, both of you waiting for another moment to pounce. but there isn’t time for that.

you could spout insults at him for hours, and he could do just the same. it's happened before.

but time won't slow down for that, and you've only got seventy-three days left to figure everything out.

bakugo waves a hand towards you, gesturing at your bag. “just fuckin’ show me what you have already.”

“why should i?”

he scoffs. “okay don’t. try gettin' shit done all by your goddamn self. least ill get a laugh when you crash and burn.”

“this is literally my job—“

“so show me what you fuckin’ got,” bakugo leans forward, speaking soft enough for it to be a whisper, but vehemently for it to be a threat.

and it’s safe to say that you’ve heard a lot of those from him.

“fine,” you grind out, not wanting to lose, or to let him win, but someone will have to give eventually--and bakugo can watch in awe as you figure it out yourself. he can beg at your feet for something to do. (he can talk to kirishima about what you should be doing and report back to mina to mess up your lift even more). win or lose, you don't break eye contact as you grab your bag, shoving around until you find your planner.

not that there’s a lot of planning being done. it's mainly doodles and spare numbers you’ve written down and never called. but bakugo doesn’t need to know that. he just needs to know that you're a professional, and you'll professionally shove his words back into his throat until they reach his stomach.

you flip to a page with a list of tasks that still need to be done, pen smeared across the page. none of them have been checked off--but that's not exactly your fault. you'd be getting a lot more done if bakugo hadn't made you come here... probably.

“i’ve scheduled a couple tours of venues mina told me she liked,” you say, sharp, tactful. you point to random notes on the page, hoping he can’t read. “but not for a couple of weeks. there’s cake testing, a meeting with a florist, billing from a designer mina chose, catering options, and i—“

“have you made any decisions?”

you purse your lips, moving the planner back towards you. “it’s been a month.”

he laughs. “so that’s a fuckin’ no.”

“it’s not that simple,” you tell him, snidely. “i need to talk to mina and kiri about options and it’s not like they’re going to choose right away so—“

“shitty hair told me you were taking care of it.”

“yes, that’s what a wedding planner does,” you smile. “good job, bakugo.”

he bares a canine, grinning. “no, smart ass. he said you get to make every damn decision. that they trust you to figure shit out.”

“i still need to double-check and make sure they’re happy with the progress—“

“sounds like you’re too fuckin' scared to do it yourself.” he leans back for the first time in two minutes, arms crossed against his chest.

that’s another thing you hate about bakugo katsuki. he takes all of the air and spits it right back at you. he's like a reverse black hole--just meaner.

“why would i be scared?”

“because you’re a shitty event planner.”

he's testing you, you know. trying to get a rise out of you because he can always do it so easily. trying to rile you up so he can win, so you'll walk out of the door and he'll get to say that he tried, that he was being a good friend--

and damn it, it's working. it's going to work. but you have very little dignity left, and no patience for bakugo katsuki and his arrogance.

“well,” you start, standing up. your chair screeches across the floor, a protest all of its own. “it’s been so lovely meeting with you, bakugo, but i think we’re—“

“am i fuckin' wrong?” he asks, serious, watching you with clinical eyes.

“are you a jackass?” you answer, shoving your notebook back into your bag. he doesn't deserve your lists, your time, or any of the energy you've given to him so willingly.

he snorts. “you’ve never planned a damn wedding. you have no fuckin’ clue what you’re doing.”

“oh, wow," you nod your head enthusiastically, "you know what, you’re really something,” you say, giving him another sickly sweet smile.

bakugo hasn't flinched at you once in the almost decade you've known him and maybe that's the thing you hate the most. hate that every emotion is written on your face in some fine ink, but he's a blank slate. hate that he gets to sit there and berate you, make you feel small, and have no repercussions for it.

hate that he's just looking at you, waiting for you. hate him so much.

you continue anyway. “not everyone would be able to figure out that i’m worried about messing up my best friend’s wedding—“ bakugo tries to cut in, but you hold a hand up. “no, really. it's pretty amazing, bakugo. you should think about going back to school for a common sense degree, since you’re so fucking great at using it," you shake your head, turning away abruptly.

you know that he’s still smirking.

“i’m not too proud to admit that i'm scared, bakugo. some of us can deal with our emotions.”

“ya sure?" he sounds amused. "cause it seems like you’ve got fuckin’ jack done and don’t know what to do next. wouldn’t call that dealing with your fuckin’ fear. i’d call it being a coward. freezing instead of tryin' to do a fuckin' thing.”

you glare at the wall in front of you, feeling bad for the person just sitting on their computer in your line of sight. “so what? it's not like you’re doing anything to help. you have no idea how to plan anything, so don't act like you'd do any better than me.”

“you fuckin’ sure about that?” you hear a loud noise, and bakugo is standing right beside you, his looming presence a brand at your side. “i’ve never planned a wedding but i know how to get shit done.”

you snort, finally looking at him again. “uh-huh.”

he sneers. “i’ll fuckin’ show you. c’mon.”

your pause, eyes narrowing. people are moving around the two of you, coffee cups exuding steam, eyes curious as they roam over you. bakugo taps his pockets, not bothering to notice a single one of them, and then moves beside you, heading towards the door.

“wha—what?" you ask, frowning. "where are you going?

“you gonna stand there like a damn idiot, or are you going to fuckin’ follow me?” he doesn’t turn his head, just keeps going.

and even though you’d never follow bakugo katsuki anywhere, even though you’d rather die than be alone with him, rather be broke and friendless than plan a wedding with him—you start walking.

“what the hell,” you say, and have to speed up to catch him.

if hating bakugo is easy, then following him is even easier.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

every comment and repost makes my day. thank you for reading!

next part

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[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 31

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 3380

A/N: This chapter is from several different perspectives.

Warnings: The Angst is back, Dean being Dean, navigating being an empath, suggestive thoughts, longing, Fluff, Premonition, Talk of Bonding (This is something specifically for this AU. I do not see this as a "requirement" to fully connect to someone, but for this story, it is needed).

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 31

Even though it had happened near four in the morning, neither of you could go back to sleep. The images that bombarded Dean’s mind had his nerves on edge just as badly as if he had had the nightmare himself. He must have held you for an hour before the both of you finally made your way to the kitchen for coffee, then lots of cuddles on the couch. Calling Crowley had gone far easier than you had pictured it. 

You explained the first nightmare, then the second one, adding what Pamela had told you. At first, you weren’t sure if Crowley was going to be of any help with as silent as he got on the other end of the line. Then, he said something that brought both hope and fear. “You’ve had two, both involving Cole. I’ll take care of it.” He didn’t give you more than that before he hung up.

With a sigh and a frown, you looked up at Dean, who placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “It’ll be alright,” he tried to reassure you, even with the knot in his stomach.

“It’s not fair. Why can’t they just leave me alone?” it was a question you both already knew the answer to, but neither of you wanted to speak it out loud. You were partially relieved that you didn’t know more of what was going on with Cole, but only partially.

Dean set your cup and his on the coffee table before he pulled you into full-on cuddles on the couch, something you both needed. There was so much he wanted to say, but none of the words that went through his head seemed right. The last thing he wanted to do was brush off what you were going through. —------------------------------

Crowley had spoken to Pamela the day you had visited her. Now, he was sitting in one of his studies, leaning back in the chair and sipping his drink. The computer in front of him was on, but his gaze was elsewhere. Cole had been released only a day ago. There wasn’t enough against him to hold or charge him with anything. Abaddon had made sure of that.

He was currently debating how he wanted to deal with this. It wasn’t like the authorities did anything in a timely manner, and Crowley hated red tape. “Sir, Mr. Winchester is here,” the butler stated, standing in the doorway.

“Show him in,” Crowley sighed. With Meg staying in Sioux Falls, he was down one of his best helpers. He knew Ketch could easily handle this job, but that was far riskier. Ketch had a tendency to enjoy his work far too… deeply.

After Dean’s phone call almost a week ago, Sam had been trying to help Crowley find a way to keep Cole locked up. That had led from one dead end to another. Since Cole hadn’t left any sort of paper trail, there was literally no evidence that he was anything more than a victim of what his father had started over twenty years ago.

“Alright, Crowley. What the hell is going on?” Sam demanded as he burst into the study past the butler, who hadn’t even had the opportunity to announce him.

“Nice to see you too, Moose,” Crowley muttered before sitting up. “She’s had another premonition, and Pamela confirmed it.” The bombshell hit Sam hard, causing him to sit in one of the chairs as his mind began racing. “Where’s Cole now?”

“According to my informants, he’s in Madison. His jeep is parked outside a Super Eight motel off Second Street. I’ve already confirmed that he’s there, room seven,” Crowley replied, still figuring out how he wanted to proceed and the repercussions of his options.

All Sam could do was stare at Crowley in utter disbelief. Cole’s location was only an hour from Sioux Falls. The silence stretched between the two, neither ready to speak the things circling their thoughts. “Coffee, Mr. Winchester?” the butler asked from the doorway, pulling Sam from his thoughts.

“Uh, yeah,” he answered absentmindedly, then turned back to Crowley. “So, what are you doing to stop him?”

Crowley looked over at Sam, debating just what information to share and what to keep to himself, then leaned back in his chair. “I’ve already alerted the main office here. They said they would take care of it, but I don’t trust them.” He paused, taking a sip of his drink, studying Sam. “I contacted a few other places, to speed things up. Ketch will be flying out in a few hours.” Sam didn’t have to ask who Crowley contacted. There was an intricate system in place for those who had premonitions, and Pamela was well-known within that system. Ketch had already packed, and he was waiting to board his flight. His assignment was simple: follow Cole and keep Y/N and Dean safe.

“Then why am I here? You could have told me all this over the phone,” Sam finally asked Crowley, quite bluntly as the butler returned with his coffee.

For a moment, Crowley let the silence stretch between them as the tension built in the small room. It was cases like this that got to him, even if he never let it show. He had a reputation to uphold. “Pamela wanted me to pass on a message. Don’t go to Sioux Falls till after your brother’s birthday.” With a sigh, Sam leaned back in the chair. He knew what that meant. Pamela had seen something, and had been cryptic on purpose. Running a hand down his face, he sighed, lost in thought. This was supposed to have been easy. Cole was supposed to go down with his father and grandfather, but Abaddon had found enough of a loophole and gotten him released. Now, you and Dean were in danger, again. “I’ll reschedule my flight,” Sam finally mumbled out before heading for the door. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“It’ll be taken care of, one way or another,” Crowley muttered, causing Sam to pause for a brief moment before leaving. 

—-----------------------------------

When the plane touched down at the Sioux Falls airport, Ketch was attempting to stay patient. Flights always took far too long, but they were faster than driving, and right now, time was of the essence. He had wanted to follow Cole the moment he’d been released, but Crowley had forbidden it. 

Going through the airport, he paid no attention to the people passing by, living their lives in their own bubbles. Ketch was focused on his current assignment, bag slung over his shoulder. It was already early afternoon, and he still had driving to do. At least his contact was parked outside in a relatively inconspicuous black car. Ketch didn’t even bother noting its make or model as he placed his bag in the trunk and then slid into the passenger seat.

“Your rental is already at the motel, waiting,” Mick began before popping the glovebox and handing him several items. “That’s your new ID-” but Ketch cut him off.

“Just drive, Mick. I don’t have time for this. I know the drill,” Ketch’s words were pointed, taking the papers and giving them a quick once over before slipping them into the inner pocket of his suit.

Mick was more talkative than Ketch preferred, wanting to make small talk. Ketch’s focus was on his next ten moves, like in chess, letting his thoughts drown out Mick’s voice on the nearly forty-five-minute drive to his motel. He didn’t need anything fancy. He was there for an assignment, and the less conspicuous his accommodations were, the better.

A slight smirk formed when he saw the motorcycle parked in the lot outside the motel. It would serve his purpose perfectly, allowing him to go off-road if he needed to in order to follow Cole. Even as Ketch got out of the car, Mick was still talking, something about a tracking device on Cole’s Jeep. “I’m aware,” was all the reply he gave, closing the door and grabbing his bag out of the trunk. Mick sighed, then held out the key to Ketch’s room. “I think you’ll need this.”

Ketch gave him an annoyed look, grabbed the key from Mick’s hand, and went to his motel room, ignoring Mick’s amusement. The motel room was basic, but Ketch wasn’t concerned with creature comforts. He had a job to do. 

The sounds of engines came and went outside with the traffic, but his focus was on his laptop, now watching as the tracker made its way along a backroad toward Sioux Falls. With the roads Cole was choosing, Ketch made a projected route to your house. About two more hours. He glanced over at his bag as he leaned back in his chair. Time to go.

His focus was on his assignment as he made his way through town. The chill of January not bothering him through the layers of clothing he had adorned before heading out. Ketch didn’t go directly to your home. He pulled off the side of the road, heading into the forested area. This was a stealth mission. Once his bike was hidden well, he went back, covering his tracks, his tactical bag slung over his shoulder. It was well past noon, nearly evening, and the sun would be setting soon. Good. The night would be his friend. Ketch weaved through the forest toward your home, the only sound was the crunching of the leaves under his feet and the occasional bird. The trees had already lost their leaves, making the area look desolate. 

Ketch stopped just inside the treeline and pulled out his phone. Cole wasn’t far now. He turned off his phone after setting it to silent, then slipped it into one of his pockets and zipped it shut. This way, even a simple notification wouldn’t give him away. Ketch took in the area, needing to find not only a decent location to keep an eye on Cole but also a place he could easily slip inside your home if need be. 

The shed in the back was a no-go, as it was too far away from the front, and he wouldn’t have a clear line of site. The tree line was too far away, and it would take too long to get to one of the doors if Cole went inside. Ketch let his gaze fall on your home. The roof was typical for places with snow, and it clearly had an attic. Crossing the distance in quick strides, he listened carefully to the sounds that seemed to echo in the area. So far, though, no indication that Cole’s Jeep was nearby. Using your porch, he climbed up on the roof with ease, using skills he’d perfected over the years. Ketch carefully inspected the roof, finding two different ways inside if he needed to. One of those was your bedroom window, which he could easily slip down to.

Ketch crouched down, watching your driveway as the early moments of twilight set in. With you living outside the city, he could hear things for what felt like miles as they echoed off the sleeping forest. It wasn’t long after that when an engine rumbled in the distance. Ketch lifted his head slowly in the direction of the sound. It was coming from the opposite direction he had taken. Clever.

Setting his tactical bag down in front of him, he opened it, then went through the motions he’d done hundreds of times as he assembled the sniper rifle. It was only a precaution. His sidearm was what he knew he’d probably end up using. Ketch stowed the empty bag near the chimney before nestling himself behind it, watching the driveway that weaved through the forest.

—---------------------------------

Dean had heard the alarm go off, quickly making his way to the security room before you and sliding into the seat. Just as you were about to join him, having only made it to the doorway, he got right back up and blocked you from going further. “Let’s just go watch another movie,” he suggested, wanting to shield you from what was taking place outside.

You could feel that he was hiding something, his worry trickling through the connection between you. “What are you hiding from me?” It was a simple question, but your fears were creeping in again.

He sighed and pulled you into his arms. “Please, Sweetheart. Can we just go watch a movie and cuddle?” Dean asked again, and even though his tone was soft, you felt the plea within his words. 

Reluctantly, you gave in, even with that nagging fear, and let him guide you back into the living room. It had already been a long day after the nightmare you’d had, and now Ketch was here, on the roof. Dean knew that could only mean one thing- Cole was on his way. Trying to push his thoughts away, he focused on the movies, needing one that would completely distract you and him from everything. Batteries Not Included it is.

Dean steadied his emotions as he slipped the VHS into the player and joined you on the couch. You kept trying to feel what he was trying to hide, but he was doing a far better job of it than you cared to admit. Something was going on, and whatever it was, he knew. Even as the movie began playing and you snuggled against him with him holding you close, he felt… off. 

I wish you’d just tell me.

Please. Just be here with me, in this moment.

As those words whispered through your mind, that knot returned to your stomach, the fear that never seemed to truly leave you. Dean felt it, twisting his insides. Relax. We’re safe. There’s nothing to be afraid of. It took everything in him to calm his stomach, letting out several shaky breaths. You wanted to apologize but didn’t, remembering what he’d asked of you in the beginning. So, instead, you focused on the movie, on being in his arms, and how his heartbeat finally evened out in a steady rhythm. That finally allowed Dean to relax, just not all the way. He didn’t need to be in the loop to know what was going on. Cole was on his way there, for you, and Ketch had been sent to stop him. Which also meant that the authorities that were supposed to take care of this, hadn’t moved fast enough. Or, they simply hadn’t thought it was a high priority.

You allowed the movie to completely distract you, remembering how Pamela had told you that you let fear run your life. Even if it was hard, you’d been trying to push past it, to truly hope for a normal life with Dean. His presence steadied you. His embrace comforted you. And halfway through the movie, you were finally able to let go of the fear that had gripped you earlier. 

—--------------------------

Ketch watched as Cole parked twenty feet from your porch, then sat in his Jeep after turning everything off. Cole’s movements inside the Jeep were easy to watch with the overhead light on inside. He has a handgun. Ketch cocked the sniper rifle but knew he would need a damn good reason to use it. For now, neither of you were in direct harm. He watched Cole slip on a bulletproof vest, then a heavy jacket, and double-checked his gun, keeping it in hand.

Just as Cole stepped out of his Jeep, Ketch heard the sound of several vehicles in the near distance, pulling his attention to the darkness beyond the Jeep. Six sets of lights were rabidly approaching down your winding driveway. He quickly looked through the scope, keeping it trained on Cole. The moment Cole went to move back to his Jeep, Ketch fired a warning shot at the ground, effectively keeping him from going further.

Cole glared up toward the roof of your home, making Ketch smirk. He would have happily shot him, but now he wouldn’t have to. The six vehicles surrounded the Jeep and Cole before over a dozen people quickly got out with weapons drawn.

“Cole Vaught, put the gun down and put your hands behind your head,” one of the men barked the order at him. 

He did as they told him, knowing they’d shoot him without a second's hesitation. Ketch just smirked at Cole’s predicament but kept the sniper rifle trained over the man’s face. Four men rushed Cole while another retrieved his gun. With Cole in handcuffs, they hauled him toward one of the vehicles, and Ketch watched as he disappeared into the back seat. 

Ketch stayed there on your roof, even after they had driven away, one of them driving Cole’s Jeep. Silence had fallen on the area again before he disassembled his rifle and placed it back into his bag. With a disappointed sigh, he pulled out his phone, “Looks like they weren’t completely incompetent. Cole has been taken into custody.”

“Stay there for a few days, just in case. I don’t trust those people,” the voice on the other end replied before hanging up.

He had no plans of staying on your roof all night, so he made his way back to his bike and then back to the motel, already planning his next moves off of numerous possibilities. He had one job, to keep you and Dean safe.

—----------------------------

The following day, you woke to those beautiful green orbs watching you, pulling a smile to your lips. “Morning, beautiful,” he said softly, leaning down, placing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Mmmm…” you hummed, snuggling a little closer to him. “How long have you been awake?” you asked sleepily, enjoying the warmth of his body and the comfort of his embrace.

“Not long,” he murmured, letting his hand slide down your back before finding your hip.

You tried not to let your mind wander, but his hands always felt so inviting, and he had always been so considerate that it was getting harder and harder not to let go. “Tease,” you mumbled, a bit playfully.

Dean loved mornings like this, when you were completely relaxed, and the weight of everything was far from your thoughts. You were playful, receptive, and the love in your eyes when they met his had his heart racing. That smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, tightening his grip on your hip just a little before he pulled you flush against him.

“And that’s all I’ll be, till you’re ready,” he teased before kissing you. 

When his lips met yours, you closed your eyes, getting lost in the way your emotions danced with his. You set your hand on his side, taking a deep breath through your nose, but allowed yourself to let go of everything but what you felt at that moment. His lips teased yours, occasionally letting his tongue taste you, and you didn’t pull away. He stifled a groan when you reciprocated his movements, and he shifted his body so he was lying more on his side as you let him lie you more on your back. The feeling of safety enveloped you like a warm blanket. These were the moments you wanted just to let go in, but the outside world always seemed to interfere as your phone began ringing on the nightstand.

You groaned, loudly at the interruption while Dean just sighed, lying back and staring at the ceiling, attempting to hide his frustration. It was a number you didn’t recognize but answered it anyway; it could be important.

“Hello?” you asked, sitting up in bed.

“Y/N, I know you’ve been told not to leave your home for at least four more days. Cole is in our holding facility. He’ll be transferred to the main security hold this afternoon. I’d like to meet with you today. Would it be okay if I came by?” the woman with a southern accent explained as your anxiety spiked.

“Who is this?” was all you could get out while Dean quickly shifted in the bed so he was now sitting up and as close to you as he could get.

The woman let out a sigh, “I’m Missouri. We need to meet. Pamela gave me your number.”

----------------------------------------- Chapter 32

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[luv-y0urself]

18 headcanons for woon's 18th !

day 2 : professional woon . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

army officer!woon x fem nurse!reader , baseball player!woon x fem!reader , barista!woon x fem!reader ♫．genre : slice of life, a little bit of angst for baseball!woon... | wc : 1725 | warnings : third person pov ! usage of y/n, l/n, and noona (only for the barista one). woon is a high schooler in the baseball one, but all others he is an adult (at least 18). mentions of injuries ⏤ nothing specific except woon does receive a knee injury in the baseball one. 𖤐．second post of the series ! sorry this one is a little late; i got a little bit carried away with all of the headcanons :> make sure to let me know which one you guys like the most for the full fic on the seventh day ! more details on the masterlist linked below ↓

ᵔᴗᵔ﹕masterlist | the day before . . . [posted] ! | the next day . . . tba !

army officer woon

army officer x military nurse oh my GOD hear me out guys–

woon is a part of this regiment that often goes out on dangerous missions that often lead to many injuries, which is why the girl would know him so well.

they know each other so well to the point where if he walks in (if he’s walking in; sometime’s he’s on a stretcher with something sticking out from his leg) she recognizes his face and sighs.

“again, officer kim?”

“same ol’, same ol’, nurse l/n. fix me up so i can get out asap, yeah? i don’t like this place very much.”

“i could say the same for the field, officer kim – no need to be stingy about our workplaces.”

he merely laughs, shaking his head as he nearly collapses onto the hospital bed, clutching his wound. 

he’s in the medical room so often that she begins to speculate that he gets hurt on purpose so he can come in just to see her – and once she actually accuses him of doing so.

“officer kim,” she says.

“mm?” he has his arm over his eyes while the other is being treated; another gash from an incident that she didn’t want to know specifics about.

“do you get hurt on purpose on the field?”

he takes his arm off his eyes and looks at her like she’s crazy. “excuse me?”

“i mean, if i wasn’t as pretty as i was, i wouldn’t think so, but since i am this gorgeous, it would make sense that you would want to see me every chance you get– i… nevermind.”

he laughs heartily, looking at her with amused eyes. “oh, keep going, nurse l/n. you’re so gorgeous that what?”

“forget it.”

“oh, c’mon, don’t be like that!”

playful bickering – as all military officers do – becomes playful flirting, and before they know it, they fall in love w each other.

but there’s a big mission that’s been assigned to his unit, and he has to go. 

he pays one last visit to the medical room, and she rushes out from the supply room where she was checking inventories, her eyes conveying all the worries she has for him.

but officer kim is stoic when he says, “out of all of the worries you have right now, worries about me should be out of the question."

"i’ll be back.”

and he grabs her hand, nods his head to her, and leaves the room. her hand is heavy; she opens it up to find his dogtag with his name and birthdate written on it and a single tear falls from her eyes, praying that he comes back home safely and in one piece.

baseball player woon

i feel like woon would have been such a good baseball player… but unfortunate things have happened to him, causing his career to end early. too early, in fact.

he was on the youth national team and was so good that clubs were lining up to get ready to sign him as soon as his high school career was finished – but at the finals of his high school baseball games, a wild pitch struck him in the knee.

he had to go through surgery but his parents were often busy, which meant that his girlfriend was the one always waiting for him to come out. she had been friends with him ever since they were little, since she lived next door. his parents often told her to go back home, but she refused. she knew that he needed someone by his side, no matter how tough he might act in front of everybody else.

after his surgery ended and he was moved to his hospital room, she didn’t realize the tears that were falling from her cheeks. tears kept rolling down her cheeks as she stared at his leg, covered with bandages and all kinds of medical equipment beeping around her. she was worried – worried for his reaction to his situation, as all he ever knew about was baseball.

he was the one always pulling her out during the week to play catchball with him at the park. he was the one always begging to go to baseball games during the weekends. he was the one who had smiled the brightest when he had gotten a baseball uniform on the day he entered middle school, wearing it to sleep and placing it gently in a case that he kept in his room. 

when he wakes up from the anesthesia later in the day and sees his leg covered in all those bandages, i think it would frustrate him a lot – and scare him all at the same time.

i’ve done this for my entire life.

… but i don’t think i can do it anymore.

then what should i do?

what can i do?

“... woon–”

“i… w-why are my legs like this?”

“...”

“i can’t- i can’t move them–”

“woon…”

“it hurts, y/n, it hurts… what do i do? what am i supposed to do? can i not play baseball anymore?”

watching him break apart, crying and asking over and over again what he should do broke her heart. there was nothing she could say that would console him – there was nothing she could do that would make herself understand the pain that he was going through, because that was truly all he knew how to do.

— — —

“although your senses may not be fully restored and you may not be able to move well now, if you continue to rehabilitate and exercise, you should be able to go on with your daily life, but... i think it's better to think that you cannot play on the field anymore.”

“i can’t– i can’t play at all?”

“it seems impossible at this time.”

soon after recovering consciousness, woon’s baseball career was pronounced dead by the doctors who came by during the first rotation. woon had no choice but to accept the fact helplessly in front of the stern doctor, who told him it was impossible for him to continue playing at this stage.

— — —

“y/n.”

“mm?”

“do you think i can go to the college that you want to go to too if i started studying now?

“... of course! you can start now.”

“there has to be something i can do instead of baseball, right?”

“... of course.”

“right? …”

“you’ll be good at anything, woon. i know it.”

woon just stares blankly outside the window. 

she’s seen him for over a decade now… but she’s never seen his eyes look so empty.

barista woon

he's friends w this girl that comes to the cafe regularly during his shift – he's too shy to make a move first, but would prolly do it bc his bros told him to (probably myungjae LMFAO)

he would prob use the cup and say like a cheesy ass thing like 'ur cute can i hav ur #?' 

anywho. turns out this girl is older than him by a year or two, which makes him call her noona.

they're talking in the cafe during his free time (still platonic friends) but then the latte that she's drinking causes foam to stay on her upper lip. woon, obvi not thinking much of his actions, leans forward and brushes the foam off of her lip, his thumb warm and his touch soft. 

“noona, why're you so clumsy?” his smile is shown, and the girls heart goes crazy.

BUT the thing is that this gal already has a boyfriend!!! and she talks about him a lot w woon bc she thinks woon is a true friend :(( 

okay, but its a rainy day and woon is getting ready to close the shop. he's cleaning the tables at the cafe when he hears the all-too familiar shop bell ring behind him. 

he calls out to the person without looking: "the shop is closed right now." 

he can hear the footsteps of whoever just decided to come inside anyway and doesn’t turn around, guessing that they would just leave after a minute or two. the rain was pouring outside today, and the cafe was cozy from the heater that he had left on.

warm hands circle around his waist.

something soft falls on his shoulders, and woon freezes like a deer in headlights. he glances at the hands around his waist ⏤ female fingers? they look just like the nails that his noona had shown him a few days ago⏤

woon moves immediately, turning around in her arms, her face looking up at him. 

oh... she's drunk. 

he can smell the soju coming off of her body. how much had she drunken? woon checked the clock hung across the cafe. it was barely nine thirty... woon hurriedly pulled out a chair, gingerly helping her sit down while kneeling down in front of her. 

with his eyebrows knit tightly together, and his voice soft, he asked her calmly, "you okay?"

“woon, he…” a tear slipped down her cheek. “he broke up with me.”

woon narrowed his eyes to figure out who it was for a second before it all made sense. 

her boyfriend.

“noona, look, i…” woon pauses, watching her as she tries to stop the tears from falling before he continues to speak. “it’s okay to cry.”

almost immediately, she begins to cry, tears falling freely down her cheeks and her form crumbling. he awkwardly slides into the seat next to her and puts his arm around her, patting her back softly.

“sorry,” she began saying. “i shouldn’t be bothering you when it’s so late.”

“don’t be sorry; what are you sorry about? you’re absolutely fine.” woon watches her shaking form and his heart falls, using his warm hands to wipe the tears from her cheeks, trying to think of something that would make her feel better.

"... you know, noona, when i first saw you, i thought i fell in love," he said, reminiscing. "you were this really pretty, confident woman that lit up the room. you were never rude, and never overstepped someone's boundaries. heck, you didn't even find the note i wrote on the top of your drink weird," he added with a small chuckle.

“... see, what i'm trying to say is, basically, you're amazing. you're confident, kind, pretty, smart – you're everything a person could want from their significant other."

"it's his fault for not seeing that in you. don't blame yourself."

© luv-y0urself / 2024 | taglist : @onedoornet

[ninjastormhawkkat]

Evangeline could sense this hero was being genuine, but she couldn’t go with him. Not now. Evangeline shook her head. “I can’t go with you. See this place, this is where the others have been trapped like I was. I need to free them now before Drake and Myra do something horrible to them.” Tristan raised an eyebrow in confusion and surprise. “Myra? Drake? Are you referring to Matthew’s mother and uncle? I’m afraid what you have said is impossible. Myra is likely dead now and so is Drake. I know since Matthew admitted he killed Drake.” Tristan explained. Evangeline looked shocked. “Drake..is dead?” She spoke with a stunned voice. Tristan nodded. Evangeline looked down as she tried to process what Tristan said. It was clear to her that he knew Matthew as well, but what he said, it shouldn’t be accurate. “That’s…that’s impossible.” Evangeline uttered. “Drake and Myra can’t be killed! Matthew shouldn’t have been able to kill Drake..unless.” A strange, hopeful expression appeared on Evangeline’s face which further confused Tristan. ‘What is she talking about? Why does she think Drake and Myra couldn’t be killed?’ Evangeline looked at Wordman with a hopeful expression. “Listen, I was originally planning on storming this place and save as many lives as I can. But what you just said is true, then that means Matthew is the key to freeing all those hostages left. I didn’t want to drag him into this mess, but he may be the only one who can help. I need you to take me to him, please.” Evangeline pleaded. Tristan frowned. “I do plan on taking you to a place where we can talk, but I agreed that Matthew would not have to be near you, nor his family. I am aware of what you have done under Drake’s command.” Tristan growled. Evangeline frowned, looking guilty and ashamed. “I know. I can’t begin to make up for the horrible things that happened to him. Matthew didn’t deserve the torment he went through. Still, if I’m right about what Matthew might be, then he could be a threat to Myra and her allies. It would also explain why Myra and Drake kicked him out after Sebastian was killed. Please. You have to trust me.” Gene wasn’t sure what to expect when the door to his home opened. He hoped Tristan returned safely once again. He didn’t expect to see Hugh carrying Patricia who was missing a leg. He definitely didn’t expect Archie to carry what looked like a zombie dog who was holding Patricia’s leg. Matthew let out a fearful yelp and hugged Carl tightly when he saw the decaying dog. “Why is there a zombie dog here?” Matthew exclaimed fearfully. “It’s not a zombie dog. He’s a Church Grimm. The reason why he’s here is because he won’t let go of my leg.” Patricia exclaimed in a slightly frustrated tone. Gene blinked as he tried to process what he was seeing and hearing. The dog was still holding Patricia’s leg and seemed to be growling at the woman. “Um…why did the Church Grimm steal your leg?” Gene asked hesitantly. “Hey, this little guy was just doing his job. A very good job I must admit. You see, Church Grimms are the dead spirits of animals buried in graveyards. Their job is to protect the souls and bodies buried in cemeteries. I believe he’s upset because I’m technically undead and not laid to rest. He’s trying to drag me back to whatever grave I’m supposed to be buried in.” Patricia turned to the dog. “I’m sorry boy, I’m still alive also.” The woman cooed. The decaying dog ruffed at her, not looking happy. Patricia then frowned. “Though I am confused as to why a Church Grimm is in America. His species are found in Northern Europe mainly.” @dualnaturedscientist

"Hold on a minute, some weird guy is staring at me. Probably some bum trying to get change off of me." Comments like that had ensured he would absolutely be relieved of guilt for what was to happen next. A smile spreads across the figure's facial features, revealing inhumanly sharp teeth glinting in the street lights. A hand quickly shot out, taking a hold of the rather obnoxious man. "What the hell are you doing-" A scream soon pierced the quietness of the night. It quickly became a horrendous gurgling noise. The cellphone in the man's hand had fallen in the process. Leaving the person on the other end to become worried and confused about what was happening to the man. It didn't take very long for the man to become completely still. The figure allows him to finally fall to the cement below, licking at his blood stained lips in satisfaction. "The night, it is still so young. I don't think I shall waste another minute on you." Like a ghost in the night, he had vanished. As if he were never there. Leaving only the grotesque mess he had made for others to find. Unknown to him, there was a witness to this who had seen the whole thing. Watching in complete and utter fear. The figure grinned, it was as if he were seeing the world through different eyes. The opportunities that awaited him. It sent a shiver of excitement up his spine. His thirst might have satiated but he wasn't satisfied with only that. Oh no. There was so much more he had in mind for this city. Just wait till morning until they discover his little surprise for all to see. It wasn't until hours later did he finally return to the house. Feeling pleased with himself. Carl shot up in bed, heart racing so fast within his chest. Calming down once realizing he was in bed with Matthew. It took the retired scientist to recognize his surroundings. "That's right.. we're at Gene's place." The dream he had woken up from was already fading from his memory. It was rather absurd, recalling what he could. He could've sworn the dream was incredibly vivid and felt so real. But the little bits of the dream that he did remember became fuzzy and distant in his mind. Carl wasn't as quiet as he thought. Matthew had woken up. "Love, are you okay?" His voice had brought Carl from his thoughts. "Matthew, dearest. I hadn't meant to wake you up." He frowned, feeling guilty as he wanted his husband to get as much rest as needed. "It's alright, I needed to get up early anyway. Don't feel bad, my darling. I'm worried about you, though.” He gave Matthew a smile. “It was just a dream. I was just startled from a dream. I don't even remember what happened in it anymore. I'll be fine.” Matthew pulled the other into his arms, holding him in such a comforting manner. Placing a loving kiss to Carl's forehead. “Even so, I've still got you.” The former scientist blushed. Matthew still had such an effect on him even after all this time. “Thank you, my love.” They had stayed like that for a good while. It wasn't until Carl noticed the time that he forced Matthew to get out of bed and to get ready for his community service. Though there was something that had been bothering Carl since waking up. He had not remembered going back to bed after his conversation with Gene last night. No matter how much he tried to, it just kept coming up blank to him. Carl sighed, he must've been that tired that he didn't remember. He was getting up there in age. “I could stay back. Margaret won't be very happy about it but I don't want to leave you if you're not okay.” Carl smiled once more. “I'm not going to be responsible for what she'd do if you tried. You're also expecting a new face there, aren't you?” Matthew looked surprised at that. He had completely forgotten about that. And Carl did make a point. Wincing at the thought of what Margaret might do if he actually did skip out on it. Though for Carl, it would've been absolutely worth it. Whatever punishment she'd dole out, he'd endure for his dearest husband. “Go get dressed now.” Matthew chuckled at that before doing as he said. Leaving Carl to this thoughts.

Carl still felt unsettled by the dream, it was like he was walking through a mist. Yet at the same time it was like someone or something was controlling his body and actions. The dream was scary, but also ludicrous. At one point Carl thought he saw someone who looked like his old narcissus ex boyfriend who he never thought about again until now. Carl just let out a sigh and shook his head. 'It was just a nightmare.' Carl reassured himself. He remembered how reading how the mind and senses can trick the body into thinking something is real when it isn't. His strange dream was just one of those cases. Carl decided to get out of bed and go downstairs. He was going to try and help his son and other son-in-law deal with this strange and frightening case of kidnapping. Carl pushed away the issue of the nightmare and headed downstairs, ignoring the feeling of dread in the back of his mind. Carl also did not pay attention to that fact that his mouth was no longer dry and that there was no glass cup on the nightstand when he got up that morning. Atomic Steele surveyed the area with caution and an intense gaze. He was going over the area looking for something out of the ordinary. Something that had bothered his friend and teammate Electric Blur. Something in this seemingly abandoned area affected Blur's powers. "I wasn't sure what just happened. It felt like I was suddenly communicating emotionally with a strange energy wave that was being transmitted from there. I felt uneasy and scared...but also sad for some reason." That is what Blur told Atomic when she came back to their hideout looking shaken and worried. She told him she never felt anything like that before, not even from the fallen B.E.A.W labs. Atomic Steele offered to check it out for her as the young heroine wasn't keen on returning to the spot. While Electric Blur was being comforted by her other teammates, Atomic followed the directions the heroine had given him to the location where she felt the strange and unsettling energy. What Atomic Steele found when he got there was a large but abandoned warehouse surrounded by an empty field. The area was surrounded by a rusted, wired fence. The place looked like it hadn't been used for years. Still, the normally brave yet brash young hero couldn't help but feel a child go up his spine. His gut and instincts telling him there is something dangerous here, something evil. Atomic Steele walked up to the doors of the warehouse. He grabbed at a rusted handle and tried opening it. To the hero's surprise and growing caution, the door easily unlocked. Atomic Steele took a deep breath and steadied his nerves. He then proceeded inside the warehouse in a slow pace, ready to discover what laid inside. "Oh hello there Matthew. Cutting it a bit close are we." Miss Dewey lightly teased the former villain as he just came into the library to start his community service. "Sorry about that Miss Dewey. I had some problems this morning but I'm here now." Matthew replied, feeling a bit embarrassed about cutting things close. He really didn't want to leave Carl and Gene alone during the family crisis that was happening but at the same time he really didn't want to test the limits of his second chance at freedom from prison. Miss Dewey gave the man a look of sympathy and concern. "You know, if there is a serious problem going on at home, I wouldn't mind helping you fill out some forms to request a temporary leave from your community service." The librarian offered. Matthew smiled in appreciation at her kind gesture. "Thank you Miss Dewey but I'll be alright." Matthew responded. "So has the new service worker arrived yet?", the former villain asked. Miss Dewey smiled and nodded. "Yes he is here. Matthew, allow me to introduce you to Frank Leigh." Matthew glanced over to the man Miss Dewey introduced. He looked to be a few years older than Victor but still younger than Matthew and Carl. He had dark hair and light, blueish gray eyes. The man gave a friendly wave to Matthew. "Hi nice to meet you." Frank spoke in a kind tone. @dualnaturedscientist

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

started watching the new live action avatar

it’s. It’s pretty ok I guess? But there’s a lot of things I’m not altogether happy about. It feels very. Generic. Which is kind of sad.

I’m only two episodes in though, so I won’t be too harsh. But there are a few things that I really don’t like, and number one was Aang going into the Avatar State in front of Sokka and Katara for the first time when seeing Monk Gyatso instead of when escaping Zuko, and that moment being isolated instead of the moment everyone in the world knew the Avatar had returned

in the original series, Aang goes into the Avatar State when confronted by irrefutable proof in the form of the skeleton of his best friend and mentor - the airbenders really were massacred and he can no longer deny it.

every statue of the Avatar around the globe lights up in a single moment. the legendary figure’s destined return is announced to the world by an overwhelming outpouring of grief and rage from a young child who just discovered that everyone he ever knew and loved is gone. it’s poignant. the Avatar’s return in that moment is not a triumph. that terrifying show of strength and power, enough to light up the world in its glow, is pure emotional anguish from a small twelve year old, who just saw the dead body of his mentor and now believes he is all alone

and Katara and Sokka having seen the Avatar State before means that there is less of the shock and “what is happening” in this pivotal scene (which was the main focus in the live action). of course Sokka is still concerned about them potentially getting flung off the mountain. but both of them know this reaction for what it is - mysterious power, sure, but primarily, they see and recognize his grief.

I just. what happened to “we’re your family now” and “neither of us are gonna let anything happen to you”??? :(

on a side note, I do feel like Katara and Sokka themselves have been heavily (heh) watered down. it’s a shame. Sokka’s my favourite, and I just think that I. Don’t trust writers with Katara now. (Why is her waterbending a secret? The whole reason she didn’t learn was because there was no one to teach her and she couldn’t leave… also where is her instant connection with Aang… where is their silliness… where did it go…)

however! I did like a couple things that were done and I want to be a bit positive so here

love Zuko and Suki’s actors. they did a great job

Sokka and Suki’s training together was cute ☺️ (though I wish he had worn the uniform of the Kyoshi Warriors…)

Aang himself is adorable :) (wish he got to be a little more silly but Netflix adaptations always are more serious for some reason)

I actually kind of enjoyed getting to see some of the scenes from the war’s outbreak. I prefer the way the original show portrays it, with a lot of info being learned reverse chronologically, but it was cool to see Sozin, and some of the airbenders, and a little more of Gyatso (who I also really enjoyed :’) )

Katara bending water at Aang and it reducing to them splashing each other without even trying to bend. Rare sillies!

I thought Kyoshi herself coming to defend her island was pretty sweet!!!

Katara getting flashbacks to her mother’s death on seeing firebending. Well I don’t like this, obviously, but it clearly shows how her mother’s death haunts her, and if they have Katara face off against Zuko again at the North Pole, it’ll be all the more triumphant.

Suki’s mom!!! Damn she was so cool!!!!!!