#and I want to keep watching for the mystery

[sonarspace]

࣪ ˖⟡ BREAKING POINT (FT. TOJI)

꒰ synopsis. toji’s job was simple: watch, report, and move on but when the lines between his mission and his desires blur, he’s forced to confront a breaking point he never saw coming. content. potentially dark themes. (stalking. mention of death.) nsfw. (cunnilingus) wc. 8k–ish. (oops) an. it’s very late so i’m sorry if certain things don’t make sense. there will be a part two, hopefully soon.

toji never liked simple jobs. the thrill was always in the hunt, in the unpredictability of his targets. but this time? this time felt... different. he’d tracked down his mark to a small, unassuming neighborhood, half-convinced he’d been sent on some kind of wild goose chase. this place wasn’t exactly a breeding ground for threats.

and that’s where you come in.

you’re not what he expected—at all. no training, no hint of power, no connection to the dangerous world he roams. just... you, living your life, completely unaware that a man like him is lurking in the shadows, keeping an eye on you. it’s almost a joke. the ease of it should make him itch to move on, to wrap things up fast. but instead, he finds himself sticking around, watching from a distance as you go about your day.

and damn, you’re making it hard to leave.

there’s something about the way you carry yourself—unconcerned, relaxed, like you know nothing about the danger he could bring into your world. it almost makes him feel... invisible, and that’s a feeling toji hasn’t had in years. the way you look at the world, unguarded, it’s like you don’t know people like him exist. you’re a mystery that’s more enticing than he wants to admit.

then, one night, you catch him.

it’s a fluke, really—a careless mistake on his part. he’s standing in the shadows outside your apartment, watching as you lock up, but tonight you linger, glancing around as if sensing something’s off. and then your gaze lands on him.

“you gonna stand there all night or what?” you ask, your tone half-amused, half-annoyed. it’s bold, like you’re talking to some stray cat on the sidewalk instead of a trained killer.

toji feels a flicker of irritation, mixed with something else he can’t place. usually, people run when they see him, or at the very least, they freeze. but you? you look at him like he’s just another random inconvenience, and that almost pisses him off. almost.

he steps out of the shadows, crossing the distance between you in a few strides, his figure looming over you. “didn’t know you were waiting for an invitation,” he murmurs, voice low, watching as your expression shifts, just a little hint of caution now, mixed with curiosity.

“what, do you follow everyone home?” you challenge, crossing your arms as if you’re unbothered by the proximity. “or am i just that special?”

toji smirks, something dark flashing in his eyes. “depends. maybe i just like the view.”

it’s a cheap line, but it gets the reaction he’s looking for—your eyes narrow, a spark of annoyance flickering across your face. you’re not scared, though, not really. if anything, you look like you’re ready to push back, and that... that’s something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“you’ve got a weird way of complimenting people,” you shoot back, the faintest smirk playing at your lips.

“toji,” he says suddenly, the name rolling off his tongue like it’s an afterthought. “figured it’s only polite to introduce myself.”

your brows lift slightly, but you recover quickly. “well, toji, you’re still creeping around outside my building.”

“and you’re still talking to me,” he counters smoothly, tilting his head just enough to give you the impression he’s sizing you up. “guess that makes us even.”

you narrow your eyes at him, irritation sparking, but it’s laced with a strange flicker of curiosity you can’t quite push down. “you’re weird,” you mutter, your voice losing some of its edge. “you know that, right?”

toji chuckles low, the sound rough but not entirely unkind. “i’ve been called worse,” he says, stepping back, his gaze still locked on you. “don’t stay out too late. wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

you blink at him, caught off guard by the unexpected hint of... concern? but before you can respond, he’s already turning on his heel, his hands shoved into his pockets as he strides off into the dark.

────

over the next week, his presence becomes almost predictable. every evening, when you glance outside, he’s there, leaning against the streetlamp or pacing the sidewalk. it’s unsettling at first, but eventually, you find yourself getting used to it. you even start thinking about how to break the tension. maybe if you offered him something, this strange game would become a little less unnerving.

so you bake cookies—just a simple gesture, something to bridge the gap. but when you head downstairs, holding the small jar of freshly baked cookies in your hands, his usual spot is empty.

you glance around, half-expecting him to emerge from the shadows, but there’s nothing. just the dim streetlight and the quiet hum of the city. for some reason, the absence stings more than you expect. had he moved on? stopped stalking you? the thought should bring relief, but instead, it leaves a pang of disappointment.

────

a week later, you’re walking home from work, the late evening air cool against your skin. it’s a quiet night, uneventful—until you feel the faint prickle of unease. someone is following you. the footsteps behind you are too deliberate, too measured, sending a shiver up your spine.

you quicken your pace, your keys clutched tightly in your hand, your mind racing as you glance over your shoulder. the man trailing you is nondescript, but his intent is clear in the way his gaze locks onto you, unyielding.

just as he closes the distance, a shadow moves faster than you can process. the air shifts, heavy and violent, and before you can even register what’s happening, the man’s feet leave the ground. a dull thud echoes through the night as he crumples to the pavement, his body limp, unmoving.

you freeze, your breath catching in your throat, your eyes wide as the shadow that felled him takes shape. “toji...” you gasp, the name tumbling from your lips as your gaze darts from him to the man sprawled on the ground. “did you—did you kill him?!”

toji steps forward, brushing his knuckles against his shirt, his expression calm, unbothered. “no,” he mutters, glancing down at the unconscious man.

you stare at the scene, your chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. then your eyes lock onto him, and for the first time, you notice the state he’s in—bruises darkening his cheekbone, a shallow cut near his temple. there’s a stiffness in the way he moves, like every step costs him something.

“toji...” you breathe, softer this time, the concern in your voice impossible to hide. your hand twitches at your side, almost reaching for him, but you stop yourself just before you do. “are you okay?”

he tilts his head, his smirk faint, almost weary. “you’re worried about me princess?” he asks, his tone laced with faint amusement.

but your questions spill out before you can stop them, each one tripping over the next. “what happened to you? where were you all this time? who is that guy? why was he—”

toji’s hands come up, his fingers gripping your arms gently but firmly, grounding you. “breathe,” he says, his voice low but steady, his gaze holding yours. “just... breathe.”

you blink up at him, startled into silence, your chest still heaving as you try to process everything at once. his touch is warm, solid, a tether pulling you back from the edge of your spiraling thoughts.

“i’ll tell you everything,” he murmurs, his grip loosening slightly, though his hands stay on you. “but first, you need to calm down.”

you swallow hard, nodding, your breaths coming slower now, though the weight of the moment still presses heavy against your chest. toji’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he steps back, his expression softening ever so slightly.

toji’s hands fall from your arms, but his gaze doesn’t waver. there’s something steady, almost unshakable, in the way he looks at you, like he’s already made up his mind about what comes next.

“i need you to trust me,” he says, his voice low but firm, the weight of his words settling between you.

you blink, your breath catching for a moment. “trust you?” you repeat, incredulous, your eyes darting between him and the man still unconscious on the ground. “toji, i don’t even know you.”

he huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head slightly. “you don’t have to,” he mutters, his tone lighter but edged with something darker, something urgent. “just please, trust that i know what i’m doing.”

“why?” you ask softly, your voice trembling.

toji’s gaze lingers on the man sprawled on the ground, his expression grim, tension radiating from his frame. when he looks back at you, there’s no trace of humor left in his eyes.

“because this man was here to kill you,” he says flatly, his voice low and heavy, the weight of the words sinking into your chest like stones.

your breath catches, your mind scrambling to keep up. “kill me?” you repeat, your voice rising slightly. “how do you even know that? who are you?”

he exhales, dragging a hand down his face, his knuckles brushing against the fresh bruise on his jaw. “just—please,” he mutters, his voice thick with frustration, “let me take you somewhere safe. i’ll explain everything, but not here.”

you shake your head, your arms crossing tightly over your chest, as if that alone can keep him from pulling you into his orbit. “my apartment is safe,” you insist, your voice steadier than you feel. “we can go there. but i’m not going anywhere else.”

toji groans softly, muttering something under his breath, his jaw tightening. “no, you’re not safe here,” he argues, his tone sharper now. “people are coming. more of them.”

your stomach flips at his words, dread curling in your gut. “who’s coming?” you demand, your voice trembling despite your best efforts.

he doesn’t answer right away, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. finally, he shakes his head, his voice softer now but no less urgent. “please,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours, his voice dipping into something almost pleading. “just—”

“no,” you cut him off, your tone final. “if you want to talk, we’re doing it in my apartment. i’m not going anywhere.”

toji lets out a sharp exhale, his shoulders slumping slightly as he stares at you, clearly debating his next move. after a moment, he relents, jerking his head toward your building. “fine,” he mutters.

inside, your apartment is warm and inviting, a cozy little sanctuary from the chaos outside. the faint scent of vanilla lingers in the air, mingling with the soft glow of a small lamp on your end table. the space is lived-in, filled with personal touches—books scattered across the coffee table and a throw blanket draped over the back of the couch.

toji steps in, his sharp gaze sweeping over the room, taking in every detail. his expression softens briefly, the faintest flicker of something almost fond crossing his face. “cute place,” he mutters, the words gruff but genuine.

before you can respond, a tiny, black-and-white blur darts across the room, a soft, rumbling purr filling the air as a fluffy cat weaves around toji’s legs. its bright green eyes gleam mischievously as it nudges against his boots, its tail flicking with casual arrogance.

toji tenses, jerking his foot back like he’s just stepped on something dangerous. “what the—?”

you can’t help the laugh that escapes you as you kneel to scoop the cat into your arms, its purring growing louder as it nuzzles into your neck. “oh, ninja, meet toji. toji, this is ninja,” you say, grinning up at him as you scratch behind the cat’s ears.

“ninja,” he repeats flatly, glaring at the tiny creature like it’s somehow offended him. “you named it ninja.”

“he’s stealthy,” you reply with a shrug, holding the cat up to face him. ninja blinks lazily at toji, his green eyes half-lidded as if bored by the entire exchange.

toji sighs, muttering something under his breath about “useless little nuisances,” but he doesn’t move, watching as you set ninja down. the cat trots off, tail high, completely unbothered by the towering man now occupying his space.

toji exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “we don’t have much time,” he says, his tone sharpening as his gaze snaps back to you. “we need to go.”

but you plant your feet, crossing your arms over your chest, your expression firm. “not until you tell me what’s going on,” you say. “from the beginning.”

he groans, his head tipping back briefly before he looks at you again, his jaw tight. “this isn’t the time for a story,” he mutters. “you want answers, fine. but we need to move.”

“i’m not going anywhere until you explain,” you reply, your voice steady. “start talking, toji.”

toji groans, pinching the bridge of his nose before leveling you with a steady, unreadable gaze. “fine. you want to know what’s going on? here it is,” he says, his voice low and measured, like he’s choosing every word carefully. “i was assigned to gather intel on you. you’ve been classified as a threat.”

“a threat?” you repeat, your brows furrowing in disbelief. “me? why?”

“because of your father,” he replies, his tone clipped. “he was involved in some... shady business.”

you take a step back, your pulse quickening. “my parents are dead,” you say, your voice trembling, the words scraping against your throat. “they died in a car accident years ago.”

“i know that,” toji says, his voice softening just enough to make the tension in the room feel heavier. “but how do you think they died?”

the question hits like a hammer to your chest, the room tilting slightly as his words sink in. “you’re saying...” you trail off, your voice barely above a whisper. your thoughts race, piecing together fragments of a past you’d never questioned. “their car crash wasn’t an accident?” your stomach churns as the realization dawns on you, sharp and cruel.

toji doesn’t answer immediately, but the look in his eyes is enough to confirm it. you feel frozen, your legs unsteady beneath you, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.

“breathe,” toji says softly, stepping closer. “look, i know it’s a lot. but we don’t have time to unpack all of this right now.” his voice is firm but not unkind, his gaze steady as he watches you struggle to process everything. “i need to get you out of here before they come.”

he turns toward the window, pulling the curtain back just enough to peer outside. his shoulders tense, his jaw tightening as he spots something in the distance. “shit,” he mutters under his breath. “they’re already here.”

“who’s here?” you ask, your voice barely steady.

“people who won’t hesitate to finish what they started with your parents,” he replies grimly. “we need to leave. now.”

you hesitate, your hands trembling as you clutch the back of a chair for support. “i can’t leave ninja,” you say, your voice breaking slightly.

toji glances at you, his expression hard, but then he sighs. “fine. bring the damn cat,” he mutters. “but grab your essentials. only what you need.”

you nod, swallowing hard as you rush to your bedroom. ninja’s carrier sits by the door, and you quickly scoop him up, his soft purring a faint comfort against the chaos unraveling around you. you throw a few shirts and pants into a small bag, along with your phone charger, some cat snacks, and ninja’s favorite toy. your hands tremble as you zip it shut, your mind spinning with questions you don’t have time to ask.

toji meets you at the door, grabbing the bag from your hands with ease. “stay close to me,” he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. you clutch ninja’s carrier tightly, nodding as he leads you toward the stairs instead of the elevator.

he pulls out his phone as you descend, speaking in a low voice. “gojo,” he mutters, his tone urgent. “send backup. now.”

you can’t hear the response on the other end, but the name lingers in your mind. gojo. another question for later.

toji suddenly halts, his body tense as he peers through the narrow window on the stairwell door. you follow his gaze, your heart stopping as you see men entering your floor, their movements calculated, their intentions clear.

he turns to you, his hand firm on your shoulder. “stay quiet. stay behind me,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

you watch as the men fan out on your floor, their presence clearing the stairwell for now. toji gestures sharply, and you follow him as he moves quickly, leading you downward again. your heart pounds in your chest, every creak of the stairs feeling impossibly loud.

you reach the basement parking lot, the space eerily quiet except for a single man stationed near the exit. toji moves like a shadow, closing the distance before the man can react. one quick strike, and the guard crumples to the ground, unconscious.

“come on,” toji urges, his voice low as he glances back at you. you hurry after him, clutching ninja’s carrier as your legs shake beneath you.

a sleek car pulls up, its headlights cutting through the dimness of the garage. the driver’s side window rolls down, revealing a man with dark hair tied into two buns and faint dark circles under his eyes. he peers at you briefly before addressing toji. “you’re late.”

“shut up, choso,” toji mutters, opening the back door and motioning for you to get in. you slide into the back seat, holding ninja close as the carrier shifts in your lap. toji closes the door behind you before sliding into the passenger seat. “drive.”

choso doesn’t hesitate, pulling out of the parking lot with practiced ease, the car gliding into the quiet streets. the tension in the air is thick, but no one speaks. the black cars you feared never materialize behind you, the route clear as choso expertly navigates the city streets, heading toward the outskirts.

you sit silently in the back seat, your arms wrapped protectively around ninja’s carrier, your eyes fixed on the shifting shadows outside. your mind races, replaying toji’s words over and over. their car crash wasn’t an accident. the weight of it settles heavily in your chest, your breath shallow as you try to process what it all means.

toji glances at you through the rearview mirror, his expression unreadable. he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t press. he knows this is a lot to take in—too much, even—but he also knows there’s no way to soften the truth.

the car slows as they pull into a small gas station, the bright fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows across the cracked pavement. choso cuts the engine, nodding toward a second car parked discreetly in the lot. “switching vehicles,” he says simply, already getting out.

toji turns in his seat, his gaze landing on you. “you need anything?” he asks, his voice low but steady.

you shake your head, your grip tightening slightly on ninja’s carrier. “no,” you murmur, your voice quiet, barely audible.

he watches you for a moment longer before stepping out of the car. you don’t move, your thoughts still tangled and heavy, the soft rumble of ninja’s purring the only thing grounding you.

when toji returns, he opens the back door and hands you a cold bottle of water and a small pack of citrus-flavored candy. your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you take the items, your gaze darting up to meet his. “how did you—” you start, but then it hits you. he’s been watching me. the thought stings, a strange mix of discomfort and something else you can’t quite name.

toji leans against the doorframe, his smirk faint but noticeable. “figured you’d need something,” he says simply, not offering more than that.

you exhale softly, your fingers brushing over the pack before tucking it away. “thanks,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

“don’t mention it,” he replies, stepping back to let you out of the car.

the three of you transfer into the second vehicle, ninja settling in your lap once more as you strap in. the silence follows you as the new car pulls onto the highway, the city lights fading behind you, replaced by the sprawling emptiness of the outskirts. it feels surreal, like the ground beneath your life has shifted, leaving you grasping for something solid.

────

the car pulls off the main road onto a narrow dirt path, winding through dense trees until a modest house comes into view. the structure is secluded, its exterior unassuming, the kind of place that could disappear into the background without much effort.

as the car rolls to a stop, the front door swings open, and a man with white hair steps out. he’s tall, his posture relaxed, and there’s a boyish grin on his face as he approaches, completely unfazed by the tension hanging in the air.

“welcome, welcome,” he says brightly, pulling open the back door before you can even unbuckle. his eyes immediately land on ninja’s carrier, and his grin widens. “and who’s this little guy?”

you blink, caught off guard as he leans down, cooing softly at the cat. “hey there, buddy,” he murmurs, lifting the carrier carefully from your lap. ninja lets out a soft meow, pressing his nose against the mesh, and the man chuckles. “oh, i like him already.”

“give it a rest, gojo,” toji mutters as he rounds the car, his tone laced with faint irritation. “you’re here to help, not adopt a cat.”

“who says i can’t do both?” gojo replies, turning to you with an easy smile. “satoru gojo,” he says, holding the carrier with one hand as he offers the other to you. “pleasure to meet you.”

you hesitate for a moment before shaking his hand, your grip tentative. “uh... thanks,” you manage, your voice soft.

toji falls into step beside you, his presence a steadying weight as gojo leads you toward the house. the air feels heavier as you step inside, your eyes immediately drawn to the two figures waiting in the living room.

the first is a tall woman with blonde hair tied into a loose ponytail, her arms crossed as she leans casually against the back of a worn-out couch. her gaze shifts to choso as he enters behind you, and a slow, easy smile spreads across her face.

“took you long enough,” she says, her tone teasing.

“had to pick up stragglers,” choso replies, his voice softer now as he steps forward and kisses her, his hand resting lightly on her waist. she leans into him with an ease that makes you feel like you’re intruding on something private.

you shift on your feet awkwardly, but before you can decide where to look, the woman turns her attention to you, her smile softening. “you must be exhausted,” she says gently, her tone warm and disarming. she steps forward, her hand resting lightly on your arm. “yuki tsukumo,” she introduces herself. “don’t let the boys intimidate you. they mean well. mostly.”

her kindness catches you off guard, and you manage a small, hesitant smile. “thank you,” you murmur.

toji’s voice cuts through the moment, his tone gruff. “don’t let her fool you,” he says, motioning toward yuki with a slight tilt of his head. “she’s dangerous.”

“only to people who deserve it,” yuki replies, her grin returning, her tone light but edged with a quiet confidence that makes you believe her.

beside her stands another figure, a man with long black hair pulled back into a neat bun. his features are sharp but composed, his expression calm as he steps forward, offering you a polite smile.

“suguru geto,” toji says, motioning toward him. “don’t let the nice guy act fool you.”

“ignore him,” suguru says, his tone carrying the faintest trace of humor. “he likes to pretend he’s the only one you can trust.” his eyes soften as they meet yours. “it’s nice to meet you. i know this must all feel... overwhelming.”

you nod wordlessly, still clutching ninja’s toy in your hand, your mind struggling to process everything. suguru’s voice is calm, measured, and there’s something about the way he speaks that makes you feel just a little more grounded.

meanwhile, gojo sets ninja’s carrier down, popping the door open to let the cat stretch out onto the floor. ninja lets out a soft meow before trotting over to inspect the room, his tail high and proud.

“so,” gojo says, straightening up and clapping his hands together. “what’s the plan? because i’m assuming you didn’t bring her here just for the company.”

toji sighs, running a hand through his hair as he looks at you. “the plan,” he says slowly, “is to keep her alive.”

────

“come on,” yuki says, her tone gentle as she motions for you to follow her. “i’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

yuki leads you down a narrow hallway, the wooden floorboards creaking faintly underfoot. the house is surprisingly clean and cozy inside—nothing like its rugged exterior. the walls are painted a warm beige, and small touches, like neatly arranged bookshelves give the space an unexpected charm.

yuki stops in front of a door, pushing it open to reveal a small, simple room. “here you go,” she says, stepping aside to let you in.

the room is bland but functional. a bed sits in the center, flanked by two plain side tables. there’s a narrow windowsill with a view of the surrounding trees, and the soft yellow glow of a table lamp casts a warm light over the otherwise bare space. it’s not much, but something about it feels oddly grounding—like a blank slate.

you set ninja’s carrier down and open the door. he stretches his little body out, his back arching and his paws spreading wide, before he begins mapping the space with his usual confidence, tail flicking as he investigates every corner.

“he’s cute,” yuki says with a soft smile, leaning against the doorframe. “you okay?”

the question hangs heavy in the air. she knows the answer before you say anything—it’s written all over your face. still, you appreciate the softness in her tone, the way she gives you space to process everything.

“it gets better,” she says quietly, her smile small but reassuring. “i promise. we’ll keep you safe.”

her words settle over you like a blanket—not enough to erase the weight in your chest, but enough to remind you that you’re not alone. she straightens, stepping back into the hallway. “take your time settling in,” she adds. “oh, and just a heads-up—there are only two bathrooms, and neither of them lock. so if you’re using one, just stick a towel under the door. it’s an unspoken rule for when we stay here.”

“got it,” you reply, managing a faint smile.

she nods once before disappearing down the hall, leaving you alone with ninja, who’s now perched on the bed, lazily cleaning his paw. you glance around the room again, sighing as you take it in. it’s bare, unremarkable—but maybe, just maybe, you could see yourself living here.

you grab a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt from your bag and step out of the room. the hallway is quiet as you make your way to the bathroom, pushing the door open. it’s clean, the tiles worn but scrubbed spotless, and the mirror above the sink reflects the exhaustion etched into your face.

remembering yuki’s advice, you grab a towel from the rack and slide it under the door, pressing it into place with your foot.

the warm water feels like a balm against your skin, washing away the grime and tension of the day. for a brief moment, you let yourself relax, closing your eyes and letting the steam envelop you. but then the weight of everything crashes back down—the truth about your parents, the sudden upheaval of your life, the danger still lurking somewhere outside the walls of this house.

after a while, you turn off the water, wiping your face with trembling hands before stepping out. you change quickly, pulling on the sweatpants and shirt, the soft fabric a small comfort against your damp skin. you gather your things, pulling the towel from beneath the door as you prepare to head back to your room.

“shit!” you yelp, your heart leaping into your throat as you clutch your chest. “what the hell—”

“sorry,” he murmurs, holding up a hand. “didn’t mean to scare you.”

you stare at him, your pulse still racing as you take in his expression. his voice is quieter than usual, the sharpness dulled, and there’s something in his gaze—concern, maybe, or something close to it.

toji watches you for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for something. “you okay?” he asks, his voice low but steady.

you hesitate, your hands tightening around the clothes you’re holding. “yeah,” you murmur, though the word feels hollow. “i’m fine.”

his brow furrows slightly, but he doesn’t press. instead, he gestures down the hallway. “come on. let’s talk,” he says, stepping aside and waiting for you to follow.

you trail after him, the quiet creak of the floorboards the only sound between you as he walks you back to your room. ninja is curled up on the bed when you enter, his tail twitching lazily as he stretches out, completely undisturbed by the tension hanging in the air. toji closes the door behind him, leaning against it as you sit on the edge of the bed, clutching the fabric of your sweatpants for something to ground you.

“i owe you an explanation,” toji begins, crossing his arms over his chest. his voice is even, but there’s a weight to it, like he’s been carrying this for a while. “about what’s going on. and about me.”

you nod silently, your gaze locked on him as you wait for him to continue.

“my crew, we’re... mercenaries, more or less. we take jobs—tracking people, running interference, whatever the client needs. and our clients? not the kind of people you’d ever want to meet.”

you stay quiet, your heart beating faster as you wait for him to continue.

“there are two big players we work for—naoya zen’in and ryomen sukuna,” he explains, his tone matter-of-fact. “naoya’s got power, connections, influence. he thinks that makes him untouchable. sukuna? he’s just pure strength. nobody crosses him and lives to tell about it.”

you can’t help the question that slips out. “so... who do you work for?”

“both,” toji replies with a slight shrug, as if it’s no big deal. “it’s a balancing act. naoya’s got more reach, but sukuna’s stronger. we take jobs from both of them, depending on what’s on the table.”

“and me?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly. “how do i fit into this?”

toji’s jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment, as if weighing his words. “naoya gave me your file,” he says finally. “he wanted you followed. didn’t say why—just that he’d pay well.”

your chest tightens, the reality of his admission hitting you like a blow. “that's why you were... stalking me,” you say, trying to keep up.

“yeah,” toji replies bluntly, his tone unwavering. “but here’s the thing—i told sukuna about the job. figured he’d want to know what naoya was up to.”

“and what did he say?” you ask, your pulse quickening, the pieces of this twisted puzzle refusing to fall into place.

“he told me to keep it up,” toji says, his voice quieter now. “but not for naoya’s sake. for yours.”

you blink, confusion clouding your thoughts. “for me? why would he care about me?”

toji exhales, dragging a hand through his hair, his frustration evident in the way his shoulders tense. “that’s the part i don’t know,” he admits, his gaze flicking back to you. “but sukuna doesn’t do things without a reason. if he wanted me to keep you safe, there’s a reason for it. so that’s what i did.”

your hands grip the edge of the bed, your thoughts racing. “and naoya?” you ask, barely above a whisper. “what does he want with me?”

“we’re not sure about that yet,” toji admits, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant. “we’re trying to figure it out. but whatever it is...” he pauses, stepping closer. “you’re safe,” he whispers, the words carrying a weight you didn’t realize you needed to hear.

his eyes soften as he crouches in front of you, his movements careful. when he notices the tears slipping down your cheeks, he reaches out, his thumb brushing gently against your skin to wipe a stray tear. “i won’t let anything happen to you,” he vows softly.

ninja pads over, his little paws silent against the bed as he hops up, settling into your lap. his warm weight presses against you, his soft purring vibrating through your legs, as if he can sense your spiraling emotions and wants to anchor you in his own quiet way. you stroke his fur absently, your fingers trembling slightly as you try to process everything.

toji watches you for a moment, his expression unreadable. then he tips your chin up with a finger, his touch firm but gentle, forcing you to meet his gaze. “i mean it,” he says, his voice low, insistent. “i won’t let anything happen to you.”

his words settle over you, and for the first time in what feels like hours, your breathing evens out. the faintest flicker of something close to relief creeps in, though the fear and uncertainty linger.

before you can respond, toji leans in, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. the gesture is brief, almost hesitant, but it sends a warmth through your chest that you can’t explain.

“get some rest,” he murmurs, pulling back slightly. “we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

you nod silently, your grip on ninja tightening as the door clicks softly behind him. the weight of the day still presses on you, lingering like an invisible force bearing down on your chest. you slump back on the bed with a heavy sigh, your head sinking into the pillow as the tension slowly drains from your body.

ninja curls up beside you, his small body warm and steady against your side, his soft purring filling the quiet room. you stroke his fur absentmindedly, your thoughts a tangled mess of confusion, fear, and exhaustion.

the room feels both too small and too vast, the events of the day replaying in your mind like a loop you can’t shut off. the truth about your parents, the danger lurking just outside this house, and toji’s quiet promise—it all feels too big, too overwhelming to process.

but then you think of his words, the way his voice softened, the steady conviction in his gaze as he said, i won’t let anything happen to you. and for a moment—just a moment—you allow yourself to believe him.

ninja shifts slightly, nudging his head against your hand, and you sigh, closing your eyes. 

────

it’s been two weeks since your world turned upside down. two weeks of secrets, half-truths, and trying to convince yourself you’re safe in a house full of strangers who know more about your life than you do.

you’d emailed your boss a vague explanation—an “unforeseen emergency” that would keep you away for an indefinite period. they’d been understanding enough, though your phone buzzed with missed calls from coworkers curious about what happened. but it wasn’t until your best friend’s name lit up your screen that you faltered.

you’re curled up in the corner of the couch, staring at your phone as it buzzes with your best friend’s name flashing across the screen. you hesitate, your thumb hovering over the answer button. toji is seated nearby, leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed as he watches you with that unreadable expression.

“you need to keep where you are to yourself,” he says, his voice calm but firm. “don’t tell anyone anything.”

you exhale softly, nodding as you press the green button and lift the phone to your ear. “hey.”

“oh my god, finally!” your friend’s voice bursts through the line, light and frantic all at once. “do you know how worried i’ve been? you just dropped off the face of the earth!”

you glance at toji, his gaze unwavering, a silent reminder. “i’m fine,” you say, forcing your voice to stay steady. “i’ve just been... out of town. for work.”

“work? since when do you travel for work? where are you?” she asks, her tone sharp with concern.

“it’s nothing exciting,” you reply quickly, your words tumbling over each other as you try to sound nonchalant. “just some last-minute project they needed me on. i’ll be busy for a while—probably won’t have much time to talk.”

there’s a pause, the silence on the other end stretching long enough to make your stomach twist. “are you sure you’re okay?” she finally asks, her voice softer now. “you sound... off.”

you glance at toji again, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tilts his head. “i’m okay,” you lie, your fingers curling into the hem of your shirt. “just stressed, you know? new place, new schedule. it’s a lot to adjust to.”

she sighs, the sound laced with doubt. “okay, fine. but promise me you’ll call if you need anything. i don’t care how busy you are.”

“i promise,” you say, the guilt clawing at your chest. “i’ll call when i can.”

when the call ends, you set your phone down on the table, staring at it as if it might ring again. toji doesn’t say anything at first, his expression unreadable as he pushes off the counter and approaches you.

“that wasn’t easy, was it?” he murmurs, his tone softer now, almost like he’s trying to offer reassurance.

you shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “no,” you admit quietly. “it wasn’t.”

toji sighs, running a hand through his hair before sitting down across from you. “i know it feels wrong. but you did the right thing,” he says, his voice steady, firm. “keeping her out of this? it’s for her safety too.”

you nod, though the words do little to ease the ache in your chest. you pick up your phone again, staring at the lock screen like it holds the answers to questions you can’t even form.

“you’re not alone, you know,” toji adds, his voice breaking the silence. “even if it feels that way.”

you glance at him, his gaze meeting yours for just a moment before he stands, walking back to the kitchen. his words linger long after he’s gone, a small comfort against the growing weight of isolation.

────

you stood in front of the mirror in your room, adjusting the borrowed crop top yuki had tossed your way earlier in the week. it fit snugly, the hem brushing just above your waistline. the sweatpants hung loosely on your hips, comfortable but far from modest. you felt... exposed.

maybe it was the heat building in your chest—the restless energy that had been simmering all day—or maybe it was the way you’d caught yourself stealing glances at toji earlier during dinner, your thoughts wandering to the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his muscles flexed when he moved.

you shook the thoughts away, grabbing a water bottle and heading downstairs to the makeshift gym in the basement.

toji was already there, his back to you as he adjusted the straps on a punching bag. his black tank clung to his broad shoulders, the curve of his biceps catching your attention before you tore your gaze away.

he turned, his expression neutral before a faint smirk curved his lips. “you’re early,” he said, his voice low.

“let’s just get this over with,” you muttered, stepping onto the mat and stretching your arms, pretending not to notice the way his eyes lingered.

the session started like any other—jabs, kicks, counter-movements—but tonight, there was an edge to your strikes, a force that wasn’t usually there. toji caught on quickly, his movements fluid as he blocked each attempt, his brow furrowing slightly.

“you’re tense,” he said, stepping back and holding up a hand to pause.

“i’m fine,” you huffed, brushing a strand of hair from your face and resetting your stance.

“no, you’re not,” he countered, his voice steady but probing. “what’s going on?”

you didn’t answer, instead lunging forward with a punch he caught easily, his grip firm around your wrist. he twisted, flipping you onto your back with a controlled motion that left you breathless.

you gasped as your back hit the mat, your pulse quickening as he pinned you down. one hand pressed your wrist to the floor above your head, while the other braced against your hip, holding you in place.

“talk to me,” he said, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. “what’s wrong?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. all you could focus on was the heat radiating from his body, the way his hips pressed against yours, the weight of him holding you down.

“nothing,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

toji’s gaze searched yours, his green eyes darkening as they flicked down to your parted lips, then back up. “you sure about that?” he murmured, his grip on your wrist loosening slightly, but not enough to let you go.

your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest as the tension between you crackled like a live wire. you felt his thumb brush against your hip, the movement so slight you almost thought you imagined it.

“toji...” you breathed, your voice barely audible, your body instinctively arching just slightly beneath him.

he didn’t move, didn’t break eye contact, his jaw tightening as he seemed to wrestle with himself. “you’re not focused,” he said finally, though his tone lacked its usual bite. “what’s got you so distracted?”

“you,” the word slipped out before you could stop it, the confession hanging in the charged air between you.

toji stilled, his expression unreadable as the tension in the room reached its breaking point.

his grip on your wrist tightened, but his other hand moved, brushing against your waist, fingers pressing into the soft fabric of your sweatpants. his thumb tracing an absentminded circle that sent sparks shooting up your spine.

“me?” he murmured, his voice low, like he wasn’t entirely sure he’d heard you right.

you nodded, the motion barely perceptible, your lips parting as you tried to catch your breath.

he huffed out a low laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching as if supressing a mirk. “you’ve been all worked up over me, huh?”

you squirmed under his gaze, the heat rising to your cheeks making it impossible to deny. “just—don’t make this a big deal,” you muttered, turning your head away.

but toji wasn’t about to let you off that easy. his hand slid down, resting lightly on your hip, his touch warm and deliberate. “you sure about this?” he murmured, his voice quieter now, the teasing edge replaced with something softer, more serious. “i’m not doing anything unless you want it.”

your breath hitched, your body betraying you as your hips shifted under his touch. “i want it,” you whispered, your voice shaky but firm.

his smirk returned, slow and deliberate. “good.”

toji’s hand moved lower, brushing over the waistband of your sweatpants. “these,” he muttered, his tone dipping into something almost amused as his fingers hooked under the elastic, “are covering way too much of you.”

your breath hitched, the rasp in his voice sending a shiver through you. “they’re just sweatpants,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice steady, but the way his fingers toyed with the fabric had you faltering.

“just sweatpants,” toji muttered again, shaking his head as his fingers hooked under the waistband. “covering so much of you…” his smirk widened, dark and teasing. “nah, princess. these things have been pissing me off all night. hiding all this from me.”

he tugged them down slowly, deliberately, letting the fabric drag against your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. his dark eyes followed every inch he revealed, his gaze growing hungrier as the sweatpants pooled at your ankles. “knew it’d be worth the wait,” he muttered, his voice low, rough.

you squirmed under the intensity of his stare, the cool air raising goosebumps on your skin. toji’s hands returned to your hips, warm and firm, his thumbs brushing over the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“you’re so damn shy all of a sudden,” he teased, his voice dipping into that low rasp that made heat pool in your stomach. “you’ve been fighting me all night, and now you’ve got nothing to say?”

“toji,” you breathed, your voice barely steady, your hands gripping the mat beneath you as his hands trailed higher.

“what?” he murmured, his tone dripping with mock innocence. “just trying to help, princess. you said you needed this, didn’t you?”

before you could answer, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. “then let me make you feel good,” he whispered, his voice low, deliberate, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

his fingers slid lower, hooking beneath the edge of your panties. he paused, just for a moment, his gaze meeting yours, giving you the chance to stop him. when you didn’t, he smirked, tugging them down with the same maddening slowness, exposing you completely. his eyes darkened as he tossed the fabric aside, and the air between you seemed to grow heavier.

“fuck,” he muttered, his hands gliding over your thighs, parting them as he settled between them. “look at you.” his voice was low, rough, filled with something that made your pulse race.

he didn’t hesitate, his fingers brushing over your folds, gathering the slick there as he let out a low, appreciative groan. “so wet already,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “you’ve been holding out on me, haven’t you?”

your cheeks burned, and you turned your head, trying to hide the heat rising to your face. but toji wasn’t having it. his free hand caught your chin, tilting your face back toward him, his grip firm but gentle.

“nah, princess,” he said, his voice quiet but commanding. “i want to see that pretty face when you come.”

his fingers moved again, teasing over your clit in slow, deliberate circles. the light, teasing touch sent sparks shooting through you, your hips shifting involuntarily beneath him. “toji,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as you tried to stay grounded.

“yeah?” he muttered, his lips curling into a smirk as he watched you squirm under his touch. “what do you need, princess? tell me.”

“don’t stop,” you breathed, your voice catching as his movements grew firmer, more insistent.

“wasn’t planning on it,” he murmured, lowering his head. his tongue flicked out, tracing a slow, deliberate circle over your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. your back arched off the mat, a soft cry spilling from your lips as he settled into a rhythm, his tongue and fingers working in perfect tandem.

he groaned softly against you, the sound vibrating through your core as he slid a finger inside, the stretch making your breath hitch. “fuck,” he muttered, his voice muffled against your skin. “so tight, princess. you’ve been needing this for a while, haven’t you?”

you couldn’t respond, your voice caught in your throat as he added another finger, curling them just right, hitting that spot that made your vision blur. his pace was unrelenting, his fingers moving in steady, deliberate thrusts while his tongue worked your clit with maddening precision.

“toji—” you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as your thighs trembled against his shoulders.

he hummed against you, his tongue pressing flat against your clit before flicking up again. “that’s it,” he murmured, his voice dark and rough. “let go for me. i want to feel it.”

his words sent you spiraling, your body arching as the tension in your core snapped, waves of pleasure crashing over you. you cried out, your voice breaking as your fingers tightened in his hair, holding him against you as you rode out the high.

toji didn’t let up, his tongue and fingers moving slowly now, coaxing every last aftershock from your trembling body. when he finally pulled back, his lips were swollen, his chin glistening as he looked up at you, his expression smug and satisfied.

“sweet as hell,” he muttered, his voice rough as he brought his fingers to his lips, licking them clean with deliberate slowness. his dark eyes stayed locked on yours, the heat in them making your cheeks burn.

toji finally eased back, his lips glistening and swollen, his smirk impossibly smug as he looked down at you. your chest was still rising and falling with the aftermath of your release, your limbs heavy, your thoughts a jumbled mess.

“feel better now?” he asked, his voice low, teasing.

you nodded weakly, your voice too shaky to respond. his smirk widened, and he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple before pulling back, his hand resting lightly on your thigh.

he reached to the side, grabbing a few tissues from the small box nearby. “hold still,” he murmured, his voice softer now as he gently wiped you clean, his touch uncharacteristically tender. the contrast to his earlier intensity made your cheeks flush all over again.

he reached for your sweatpants. his hands slid them back up your legs with care. his thumbs smoothed over your hips as he adjusted the waistband, his gaze flickering up to meet yours.

“there,” he said, his voice low and almost fond. “back to being all covered up.”

but then his hand slipped to the side, grabbing your discarded underwear from the mat. he balled the fabric up in his hand, slipping it into his pocket without hesitation.

“toji,” you said, sitting up slightly, your voice a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “my underwear?”

he grinned, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth before standing. “i’ll give it back… maybe,” he said, his smirk widening as he glanced back over his shoulder.

“you’re insufferable,” you muttered, glaring at him, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed the way your heart raced at his audacity.

“you like it,” he called over his shoulder, already halfway out the door. “next training session, sweet girl. don’t be late.”

an. peep the nickname change after he got a taste of that thing.. mhm. what a good man.

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[soo0hee]

Fun Time

Pairing — Chwe Hansol x afab!Reader

Summary — Visiting your brother you met one of his member. To bad that you liked to have a little fun... Requested by @cyd0129 , i hope you like it!

Genre — fluff

Warnings — none

Word Count — 1.1k

Rating — sfw

A/N — @tusswrites & @svtiddiess thanks for brainstorming this with me <3

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

Visiting your brother at his job was always fun. Watching him turn simple melodies and beats into full fledged songs that would maybe, possibly, end up on an album of their group always gave you a sense of calmness that you rarely ever got to feel.

And while the Universe Factory was almost like a meeting point of Seventeen members, you had never gotten to meet every single one of them. It was funny almost but Woozi had always been a little mysterious when it came to his family, so neither you, nor the members who knew about you were surprised about their producer keeping this detail to himself.

And Woozi wanted to protect himself from the chaos that was doomed to happen if you and certain members of his were to ever meet eachother.

To protect his piece of mind, is what he told you once over dinner at your apartment. You had cackled at his serious expression but accepted his reasoning knowing that you indeed could be a little menace if you wanted to.

With your from your brother requester personal lanyard dangling from your neck and bubble tea in your hand you walked through the lobby of the Hybe Building. It surprised you how well recognition system worked as you remembered last times visit where you had needed almost 20 minutes and a staff members help to actually get inside.

Walking up to the elevator with your earbuds blasting music straight into your brain, you took out your phone to text your brother of your incoming arrival when you noticed the text he had send you a bit ago.

Universe Factory is empty. Am in Studio 7. Meet me there? – received 2:31 pm

For a moment your brain blanked just as the Elevator arrived with a Ding.

The Universe Factory you knew where to find, Studio 717 however you had no idea. It was a practice room, that much you knew, but when it came to the location, you were absolutely lost.

Maybe you should ask someone? One of the staffs? No, they had already stared like you had frown to heads when you walked in with your own Lanyard! There was no need for you to receive those stares a second time.

So you pressed the Button with the number 7, hoping that the first number of the studio was the indicator of the Level you had to go to.

The doors closed and you went up just to stop at the second floor.

A familiar face appeared behind the door. A face that you had seen a million times already on press pictures, photo shootings or the group selcas Woozi loved to send you every then and now.

A few that had yet to meet you however.

Vernon was one of those members that you were being hidden from, until now.

The hip hop team maknae only nodded in acknowledgement, eyes fixed on the lanyard to verify that you had the right to be there.

He pushed the button to the 9th floor.

“You going to the finance department?” Vernon asked smoothly in korean.

An idea struck you that couldn’t passed up.

Fanning confusion you stared back at him and answered in perfect English with, “I’m sorry, what?”

It took Vernon a second to make the switch in language before asking again if you were going to the finance department. This time in english.

“Uhm, no. I was actually searching for the Studios… I have an appointment there.” You said without feeling bad for lying, internally groaning that your hopes of your destination being on the 7th floor had been crushed just like that.

“The Studios are on the 8th floor.” Vernon answered, eyebrow raised in suspicion.

That one you knew. But-

“And the practice rooms? I need to be in 717 to meet someone.”

Now that made the Rapper curious. 717 was their Practice room! What was a stranger like doing in their practice room?!

Admittedly, a very beautiful stranger, but a stranger none the less.

“Uhmm, I could take you? It’s where I’m headed right now! But only if you tell me what kind of business you have there.” He offered. You could clearly hear the teasing tilt in his voice.

You played along.

“I’m a new choreographer. They called me to take a look at a choreography for what I’m guessing is your group if you are headed there. Preparation for a new comeback?”

The elevators door opened on the 7th floor.

Vernon swallowed. A new choreographer meant changes to the already existing choreo and he prayed that wasn’t the case.

The elevator closed.

He hummed quietly, agreeing with the last part.

“Yeah, I’m from Seventeen. Vernon.”

“Nice to meet you Vernon. I’m y/n. Pleased to meet you.” You grinned and bit your lip to prevent laughing out loud at the dumbfound face he made.

Vernon on the other hand had trouble to keep his composure. Something about the way you smiled at him and the accent of your English had his ears heat up.

Once the Elevator opened again, he almost fled out into the hallway while you slowly followed with a snicker hidden by your head over your mouth.

“This way please!”

The member od Seventeen were known to be a magnet for chaos and this was proven again when you could hear the loud screams of who you guessed would be Seokmin and Mingyu behind the closed door.

Vernon snorted at the sounds his members made inside. Reminding him of a seal at times like this.

Like a gentleman Vernon opened the door and let you inside. There were only a few members of the group, one being your brother and almost none of the staff.

“Did someone know that we have a new chorographer?” he yelled in korean towards the guys, thinking that you weren’t able to understand him like this.

It was comical how fast all heads whipped around to stare at him.

Woozi groaned upon seeing you standing behind Vernon while grinning like a cat.

The few members who had recognized you smiled in amusement.

“Aish! Lee y/n! Did you prank him? Vernon-ah, this isn’t a choreographer. She’s my sister.” The producer sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“Ah Jihoon-ah, why rat me out so fast?” you complained with a whine.

Vernon, confused and a little dazed at the turn of events had to pick his jaw up from the floor. Stammering at you with a pout. Joshua patted his back while passing him.

“I see you have met y/n.”

“She- she’s not a-“

“All she is, is a brat!” Jihoon answered and slapped the back of your head gently with his bag slung over his shoulder, ready to leave.

“You’re no fun Jihoon-ah.” You called after him.

“Just come with me so we can get some food!” was the response echoing from the hallway.

You turned back to Vernon.

“It was nice to meet you, Vernon. I hope I’ll see you soon.”

With a wink and a flip of your hair you were out the door and gone.

The American slowly turned to Seokmin who didn’t bother holding back his laughter.

“And? What do you say?”

“Hyung…” the younger forced out star struck. “I think I’m in love…”

[lovehotelreservation]

chapter one: hi it's me you're all in danger summary: worldwide fame and a political tie or two has you--one of the biggest pop stars around--in dire need of reliable protection. thankfully you had four ex-military retirees to entrust your wellbeing to. but what happens when that protection turns possessive? rating: pg-13 (rating will increase across certain chapters) pairing: f!reader/task force 141

as a longtime charli xcx fan, can't say i expected my brat autumn to be spent writing about the cod mfs 😭😭

-----------------

10 AM. London. Shangri-La. Hotel bar.

Somehow, being surrounded by opulence, prestige, and elegance made particular four men currently seated in the back of the space feel a bit out of place.

But they were here on a mission.

Or rather, a job now.

The days of being out on the field in camo fatigues were of the past. Now they were all seated together in suits–black and white, jacket, tie, pants and polished shoes–gin and lemon water on the table.

There was a bit of restlessness in the air and it was starting to spill out in the conversations shared amongst the four.

“Simon, would it literally kill ya to show yer mouth, man? Dae ya want the lass to think yer sick as a first impression?”

“A bit of mystery could be fun, no?”

“Are ya Scooby fuckin’ Daee or somethin?!”

“Johnny, can you keep it down? Your mohawk’s already gotten us enough looks as it is.”

“And what’s so wrong with a lil’ business casual, Kyle?!”

“Can you muppets keep it down!?”

The harsh lash of Price’s tongue had postures straightened and lips hushed.

With a sigh, he brought his fingers to his temple, wondering how he managed to save the world over and over again with these three. Still, his eyes flickered to his watch as he checked the time, a conversation from a month ago coming to mind.

“Price.”

A hand was extended out to him. Fluorescent lights at the American embassy in Paris hung above. Murmurs of French and English lingered in the air as the day proceeded.

Price grinned, returning the exchange with a firm handshake. “Miller. Good to see you standing, old friend.”

Moments later the conversation was held at Miller’s office, a familiar place during the times Price had visited. What stood out to him most was the newly framed photo of Miller and his blushing bride, Priscilla.

A miraculous matrimony all things considered.

Miller, an American ambassador. Priscilla, an activist whose loud and mighty voice helped push for change within socio-political and environmental spaces.

It wasn’t as if it was absolutely impossible for the two to meet–rather, it was just the fact they met after being held hostage alongside other world leaders and activists during a goodwill gala held at Berlin. Terror wished to deliver a haunting message to all of the world, with similar sieges held at other massive events, but thankfully the work of 141 and other allies blocked the reception.

Price glanced down at Miller’s desk, where a few pictures of a glamorous woman were splayed across files: a pop star by the name of Dollface. Formerly part of beloved girl group 4EVA, now setting the music scene alight with impeccable music production, godly vocals, and captivating choreography.

Or so he’s heard.

Right beside her was a clipped out headline from a newspaper:

Glastonbury Saved! Tragedy Averted from Terrorist Threat!

A job well done–courtesy of a certain phantom soldier.

“–I know your days of military campaigns are over, but this has been tearing Priscilla apart,” Miller sighed morosely. “While I know this is the fault of no one and she understands that change in the world comes at a cost, the fact that terrorists would target her niece’s festival performance has been haunting her.”

“Revolution does not come easy, that’s for certain,” Price mused as he glanced over at his friend’s face with an affirming nod. “Even so, it’s something still worth fighting for.”

Miller sighed out in agreement. “Of course.”

“So then.” Adjusting his posture, Price then continued, his tone light, “What can I and a few recently retired soldiers do for you, mate?”

His shoulders relaxing, Miller then reached down for one of the photos of the pop star, pushing it over towards Price. “Watch her. Protect her, please. She’s been an anxious mess ever since Glastonbury.” Gazing down at the newspaper headline clipping, he continued, “Her career’s at such a critical point and her first solo world tour’s been delayed enough as it is. Pressure’s everywhere–label, fans, the media. I know she wants more than anything to finally move forward. But–”

Gingerly picking up the photo, Price took in every single detail of the woman.

Of you.

Turning his focus back to Miller, he grinned, brows raising. “A bit of Price Protection and Co. could do wonders, yeah?”

“You’d be doing miracles, friend” was the response received, along with a vigorous nod.

Price held out his hand.

“It’s a deal.”

And now, the gang was all here, even though the gang was currently driving Price up the wall. Still, if there was anyone who he trusted to get the job done on behalf of a dear old friend, it was Gaz, Ghost, and Soap.

Or rather, from here on out: Kyle, Simon and Johnny.

It didn’t hurt that the gig paid quite handsomely–your label desperately wanted you to get back on stage one way or another. Since the Glastonbury incident, you’ve since been spending your days in London, far too afraid to leave anywhere. The plan was to slowly draw you out of your shell by planning all promotional endeavors around the UK before you would travel the world as intended.

Before any of that however, the first key matter of business is for the five of you to meet together.

10:15 AM. London. Shangri-La. Hotel bar.

“What do you lot think? Full glam or lowkey?” Kyle spoke up, now peering over to look at Johnny’s phone, who had brought up one of your music videos.

Price glanced over, seeing slick skin, big curls, gyrating hips, rouge lips, white heels, and sparkling eyes.

Such visuals were definitely not on Miller’s desk when discussing the job.

“Like right now?” Johnny queried back.

“Lowkey without question.” Simon folded his arms across his chest, his eyes peeking at Johnny’s phone, his expression reflective.

A sudden tap on the back of Price's shoulder just a moment later soon caught his attention. 

“Mr. Price…?”

He immediately turned back, the others following suit.

Johnny’s eyes widened, immediately switching off his phone to shove into his pocket.

Lowkey was correct.

A cap, oversized t-shirt with shorts hidden beneath, hair down, tennis shoes, a pair of sunglasses that were soon slipped off.

The contrast between who they saw on screen to who they were seeing now couldn’t be any more apparent.

Still, even by the way you stood before him, posture shrunken back slightly, eyes a bit downcast, voice softer than the usual bubbly vocals of your music, there was this grace, this aura that you exuded–one that spoke of a true bonafide performer rather than a mere average person.

Smiling warmly, Price held his hand out towards you for you to shake. “That would be me, dear.”

“Uncle Miller’s told me lots about you.” You smiled, bringing your hand up to take his.

So much smaller than his, he noted to himself, chuckling as he responded with, “I hope they’re my finer moments.”

Giggling in response, you affirmed, “As he said, only the best unclassified stuff. I’m Doll–” You quickly stopped yourself, opting to give your first name instead.

“Face pretty like a doll’s still,” Johnny murmured over to Kyle, who nodded in agreement.

Simon didn’t say anything but instead allowed his arms to rest by his sides, continuing to quietly observe you.

A world-renowned pop star with four former soldiers tasked to serve as her bodyguards.

Should be an easy enough job.

-----------------

thank you for reading !!! i know i tend to not really do multi-chapter pieces but idk the ghost of brat summer took over me after seeing a clip of soap and simon banter so i've been genuinely locked in with writing out this tale 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

subsequent chapters are going to be loosely tied together but i hope you enjoy my take on cod yumejo with this pop star otome 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

next chapter's up next friday !!! 🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️

[hollowed-theory-hall]

i remember you mentioned Harry loves spending time with Diary bc of his connection with Voldemort (or i think so) but what about Voldemort in his head? does he loves it or not? i also think after death-and-rebirth he kinda feel more lighter and even sad about it

Like, it's canon Harry likes to just hold the diary becouse he feels drawn to it, even before knowing how it works:

Harry couldn’t explain, even to himself, why he didn’t just throw Riddle’s diary away. The fact was that even though he knew the diary was blank, he kept absentmindedly picking it up and turning the pages, as though it were a story he wanted to finish. And while Harry was sure he had never heard the name T. M. Riddle before, it still seemed to mean something to him, almost as though Riddle was a friend he’d had when he was very small, and had half-forgotten. But this was absurd. He’d never had friends before Hogwarts, Dudley had made sure of that.

(CoS, Ch13)

That's an actual quote from the book.

Also, later on, Tom has to literally spell out that he's Voldemort because Harry was just completely unwilling to accept that his new BFF Tom who he might have a baby crush on is evil:

“Tom — Tom Riddle?” Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry’s face. “What d’you mean, she won’t wake?” Harry said desperately. “She’s not — she’s not — ?” “She’s still alive,” said Riddle. “But only just.” [...] “Are you a ghost?” Harry said uncertainly. “A memory,” said Riddle quietly. “Preserved in a diary for fifty years.” He pointed toward the floor near the statue’s giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Harry [...] For a second, Harry wondered how it had got there — but there were more pressing matters to deal with. “You’ve got to help me, Tom,” Harry said, raising Ginny’s head again. “We’ve got to get her out of here. There’s a basilisk . . . I don’t know where it is, but it could be along any moment. . . . Please, help me —” Riddle didn’t move. [...] But his wand had gone. “Did you see — ?” He looked up. Riddle was still watching him — twirling Harry’s wand between his long fingers. “Thanks,” said Harry, stretching out his hand for it. A smile curled the corners of Riddle’s mouth. He continued to stare at Harry, twirling the wand idly. “Listen,” said Harry urgently, his knees sagging with Ginny’s dead weight. “We’ve got to go! If the basilisk comes —” “It won’t come until it is called,” said Riddle calmly. [...] “What d’you mean?” he said. “Look, give me my wand, I might need it —” Riddle’s smile broadened. “You won’t be needing it,” he said. Harry stared at him. “What d’you mean, I won’t be — ?” “I’ve waited a long time for this, Harry Potter,” said Riddle. “For the chance to see you. To speak to you.” “Look,” said Harry, losing patience, “I don’t think you get it. We’re in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later —” “We’re going to talk now,” said Riddle, still smiling broadly, and he pocketed Harry’s wand. Harry stared at him. There was something very funny going on here. . . .

(CoS, Ch17)

Like, it takes Harry forever to get to the realization something is wrong even though Tom steals his wand and says mysterious evil shit because Harry was so desperate to keep Tom as his friend.

I mentioned here, how Harry does like his mental connection to Voldemort in DH in a way because it gives him a sense of purpose.

Harry is the one to decide they should be wearing the locket after he sensed life from it:

“Can you feel it, though?” Ron asked in a hushed voice, as he held it tight in his clenched fist. “What d’you mean?” Ron passed the Horcrux to Harry. After a moment or two, Harry thought he knew what Ron meant. Was it his own blood pulsing through his veins that he could feel, or was it something beating inside the locket, like a tiny metal heart? “What are we going to do with it?” Hermione asked. “Keep it safe till we work out how to destroy it,” Harry replied, and, little though he wanted to, he hung the chain around his own neck, dropping the locket out of sight beneath his robes, where it rested against his chest beside the pouch Hagrid had given him.

(DH, Ch14)

He's also the one of the trio that insists they should be wearing the locket even after they learn of it's effects, while Hermione suggests that maybe they really shouldn't:

“Hmm,” said Hermione, looking down at the heavy gold locket. “Well, maybe we ought not to wear it. We can just keep it in the tent.” “We are not leaving that Horcrux lying around,” Harry stated firmly. “If we lose it, if it gets stolen — ”

(DH, Ch15)

Ron is also against wearing Horcruxes, while Harry didn't seem to mind keeping the cup in his pocket:

Harry pulled the Horcrux from the pocket of the wet jacket he had just taken off and set it down on the grass in front of them. Glinting in the sun, it drew their eyes as they swigged their bottles of juice. “At least we can’t wear it this time, that’d look a bit weird hanging around our necks,” said Ron, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

(DH, Ch27)

So, yeah, I think Harry definitely could feel his connection to Tom and the various Horcruxes.

I do think, once he comes back to life, he feels emptier, like a part of him is gone in a way. He'd feel lighter like a weight was taken off his shoulders, but I think he'd also feel off and aimless. I talked about it more here.

It's why I think Harry should've gone back for 8th year, I think getting his NEWTs and the familiar environment at Hogwarts would do him good after everything. Give my boy a break.

[beautification-tales]

The Wereslut

A tale of periodic transformation

Ginger's heart fluttered like a caffeinated butterfly as she approached Sam's door. She clutched the stack of anime DVDs to her chest, feeling their plastic cases dig into her skin. Her cheeks flushed a shade of red that could put a ripe tomato to shame. She had met Sam only a few months ago when he moved into the apartment next door. Tall, with a mop of chocolate-brown hair and a smile that could light up a room, he was the kind of guy she had always admired from afar. He was cool, athletic, and had a mysterious aura that she just couldn't resist.

The hallway was eerily quiet, the only sound the muffled thump of music from a distant apartment. Ginger took a deep breath and rapped her knuckles against the door. It swung open, revealing Sam in all his glory, dressed in a casual tee and sweatpants. His eyes widened in surprise, then a warm smile spread across his face. "Hey, Ginger! What's up?"

Her voice quivered slightly. "Hi Sam, I... I was wondering if you wanted to come over and watch some anime with me?" She held out the DVDs like a peace offering. "I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but I thought you might enjoy it."

Sam's smile grew as he looked over the titles of the top DVD. "Attack on Titan, huh?" He chuckled. "You're trying to convert me into a weeb, aren't you?"

Ginger's blush deepened. "Only if you want to be," she replied with a nervous laugh. "But I promise it's really good."

Sam's smile remained as he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes searching the room behind him. "Actually, Ginger, I'm kind of in the middle of something." The words hit her like a brick wall. Her hopeful expression crumpled slightly, and she took a step back. "Oh, I see. That's okay. I just thought—"

But before she could finish her sentence, the sound of giggling and high heels clicking on the floor grew louder. A moment later, a beautiful brunette with a figure that could make any magazine cover jealous sailed into view, her arms laden with shopping bags. "Sammy!" she cooed, planting a kiss on his cheek. "You didn't tell me you had company!"

Sam's expression grew sheepish as he took in Ginger's downtrodden look. "Ginger, this is Tiffany," he said, his voice tight. "Tiff, this is my neighbor, Ginger."

Tiffany's eyes swept over Ginger's unassuming attire and the anime DVDs before her smile grew strained. "Hi there," she said, her voice dripping with forced sweetness. "Sam's told me all about your... hobby."

Ginger felt a sudden urge to shrink away, her excitement replaced by a sinking feeling of embarrassment. She had hoped, maybe even for a second, that Sam would see her in a different light, that maybe he'd want to share in her love of anime. But now, with Tiffany standing there, she realized how ridiculous she must look. "It's okay," she murmured, trying to keep the disappointment from seeping into her voice. "Another time."

Tiffany's laughter was like a tinkling bell, but the sound grated on Ginger's nerves. "Oh, I don’t think so. Sam isn’t into geeky loser things.," she said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. Sam’s eyes widened at Tiffany’s cruel comment. He took a step towards Ginger, his hand reaching out as if to apologize.

"Tiff, that's not nice," he admonished gently. “What it’s true isn’t babe? You don’t want to give this girl any false hope… right?” she said with a knowing smile, her voice as sweet as honey-laced venom.

Ginger's eyes filled with tears, and she took a shaky step back. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her cheeks burned as the words echoed through the hallway. The stack of DVDs grew slippery in her grip, and she fumbled to keep them together. "It's fine," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I should go."

Sam's hand hovered in the air, his expression torn between guilt and frustration. "Tiff, that's not—" he began, but she placed a hand on his chest, cutting him off with a look that was both seductive and commanding.

Ginger didn't wait to hear the rest of the conversation. She turned on her heel, her heart feeling as if it had been crushed under Tiffany's expensive stilettos. Tears blurred her vision as she hurried back to her apartment, the DVDs clattering against each other in her trembling grasp. She could feel the weight of Tiffany's gaze on her back, but she refused to look back. Once inside the sanctuary of her own four walls, she let the tears fall freely, her shoulders shaking with sobs that seemed to come from a place of pain she didn't know existed.

Her room was a testament to her love for anime: posters of her favorite characters adorned the walls, plushies lined the bed, and a bookshelf groaned under the weight of countless manga volumes. Normally, the sight of her collection brought her comfort, a reminder of the fantastical worlds she could escape to whenever reality became too much to bear. But now, as she stared at the poster of a fierce heroine holding a sword aloft, she felt nothing but a hollow ache.

Something in Ginger snapped as she screamed in pain. The sound echoed through her room, a cathartic release of the agony that had been building inside her. She took a deep breath and turned to face the poster of the heroine she had once admired. With trembling hands, she reached up and tore it from the wall. The paper ripped under her fingernails, sending a thrill of anger and adrenaline through her body. One by one, she yanked the posters down, each tear echoing her own shattered illusions.

Her vision blurred with unshed tears, she stumbled out of her room and into the hallway, the DVDs scattered on the floor behind her. She needed air, needed to get away from the suffocating reality that was her life. Without bothering to change out of her sweatpants and oversized t-shirt, she grabbed her phone and keys and left the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

The cool evening breeze kissed her flushed cheeks, and she took deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. She quickly walked past Sam’s door and could hear his groans of pleasure, which grew louder as she approached the stairwell. Her steps slowed, and she leaned against the wall, her knees threatening to buckle under the weight of her own mortification. Through the thin barrier, she could make out Tiffany's high-pitched giggles and the unmistakable sounds of passionate lovemaking.

Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the sweat that had formed from her earlier exertion. Ginger felt like a fool for thinking that someone like Sam would ever be interested in someone like her. The geeky girl next door, with her unruly red hair and glasses, was no match for a goddess like Tiffany. She stumbled down the stairs, her eyes blinded by the tears, and pushed through the heavy front door of the apartment building.

The street outside was alive with the sounds of the city: cars honking, people laughing, and music playing from various windows. Ginger didn’t register any of it as she started walking, her legs moving on autopilot. She didn’t have a destination in mind, just a desperate need to put distance between herself and the apartment complex that now felt like a prison of humiliation. The sidewalk was a blur of concrete and shadow as she stumbled down the block, the neon lights of the nearby convenience store reflecting off the wet pavement.

Her thoughts were a tumultuous storm, each memory of Sam and Tiffany’s encounter striking her like a bolt of lightning. She couldn’t shake the image of Tiffany’s smug smile, her words cutting through Ginger like a hot knife through butter. The pain was unbearable, a reminder of every time she had been dismissed or belittled because of her hobby, her looks, her very essence.

As Ginger walked, her eyes remained cast downward, avoiding the glances of passersby. The world felt too harsh, too cruel to face. The sidewalk grew crowded, and she felt the press of bodies around her, a stark contrast to the loneliness that engulfed her. Without warning, she collided with someone, her body bouncing off them like a pinball.

Ginger's eyes shot up to see a gorgeous brunette woman standing in front of her, dressed in a stylish outfit that screamed confidence. For a split second, she thought it was Tiffany, come to twist the knife even deeper. But the woman's eyes, a soft brown, were filled with concern rather than the malice she had just encountered. "Oh, I'm so sorry," the stranger said, her voice as sweet as it was sincere. "Are you okay?"

But Ginger was beyond okay. The anger that had been simmering inside her boiled over, and she took it out on this unsuspecting bystander. "What the hell is your problem, watch where you're going!" she snarled, pushing the woman away. The brunette staggered back, her eyes wide with shock.

“Umm excuse me?” The brunette woman’s eyes narrowed, the sweetness replaced by a hint of annoyance. “You’re the one who practically bulldozed into me!” Ginger’s heart was beating fast as she unleashed all of her pent up rage. “Fuck you bitch! Women like you think you can do anything you want! Why? Because you got blessed with big titties? So just get out of my fucking way you empty headed bimbo.”

The woman took a step closer, her expression morphing from anger to curiosity. "Bimbo?" she repeated, one eyebrow quirking upwards. "You've got quite the mouth on you, little girl. You know what they say about calling someone a bimbo, don't you?"

“What ?” Ginger sniffled, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand. She hadn’t meant to let it all out like that, but the pain was too much. The stranger smiled as she whispered. “It takes one to know one.”

Before Ginger could respond, the brunette leaned in closer and licked the palm of her hand. It was a quick, almost imperceptible gesture, and Ginger’s eyes widened in shock. The woman’s tongue was warm and wet, leaving a strange tingle in its wake. She stepped back, trying to shake off the bizarre sensation, but the stranger’s gaze held her in place. Her eyes had changed, the pupils dilating to almost swallow the irises whole.

"By the power of the moon," the woman began, her voice low and hypnotic, "I bestow upon you a gift, a transformation." Her words were laced with a mysterious power that seemed to resonate through the very air around them. Ginger felt a strange energy coil around her, tightening like a noose with every syllable spoken.

Ginger’s hand burned with pain as a burn mark appeared where she was licked. “Ah what the fuck!” she yelped, staring at the hand in horror. The brunette’s smile grew wider, revealing her white teeth. “It’s a small price to pay for what’s to come,” she said cryptically. “I’m sure you’ll have so much fun…tomorrow.” The woman laughed as she walked away, leaving Ginger trembling with confusion and fear.

The cold evening air seemed to pierce through Ginger’s skin, and she felt a sudden, inexplicable chill run down her spine. Shivering, she turned and hurried back towards her apartment building, her legs moving faster than she thought possible. The sounds of Sam’s lovemaking had faded into the distance, and she was grateful for that small mercy. As she reached the safety of her own hallway, the chill grew stronger, and she could feel a strange energy pulsing through her veins, setting her nerves alight with anticipation.

Her trembling hand fumbled with the keys, and she finally managed to unlock the door, stumbling into the relative sanctuary of her apartment. The mess of DVDs and torn posters greeted her like a sad reflection of her shattered heart. She didn’t have the strength to clean up the mess or even change out of her tear-stained clothes. Instead, she collapsed onto her bed, the mattress welcoming her with a comforting sigh. Her hand throbbed where the brunette’s saliva had burned her, the pain a constant reminder of the bizarre encounter.

“Forget Tiffany. She’s a bitch and I love anime. I love you.” Sam said as he looked deeply into her eyes. Ginger felt a spark of hope flicker inside her chest. Could it be that he felt the same way? That he didn’t care what anyone else thought about her hobby? She took a tentative step closer to him, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. Sam embraced her and kissed her deeply, his arms wrapping around her in a warm embrace. The passion between them grew stronger, and soon they were both lost in a whirlwind of desire.

But the dream shattered as abruptly as it had begun. The sound of knocking on her door yanked Ginger from her fantasy world, and she bolted upright in bed. The room was bathed in the cold light of dawn, the curtains fluttering gently in the breeze from her open window. Her heart raced, the remnants of her dream clinging to her like a stubborn fog.

Ginger frowned in disgust as she was covered in sweat. She reached down and felt that her panties were drenched. The dream had been so vivid, so real. But it was just that, a dream. A sad, sad dream that taunted her with the one thing she wanted most - Sam's acceptance and affection. She wiped her eyes, trying to scrub away the last traces of hope that had lingered from her slumber. The knocking grew more insistent, echoing through the silent apartment. She threw off the covers and stumbled towards the door, her legs feeling like jelly.

When she opened it, she was surprised to find Sam standing there, his eyes red-rimmed and his hair sticking up in every direction. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all. "Hey, Gin," he said, his voice low and gruff. "Can I come in?"

Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t expected to see him today, let alone this early in the morning. She stepped aside, allowing him to enter. His presence filled the room, making it feel smaller and more intimate than it had just moments before. The smell of his cologne, faint but noticeable, tickled her nostrils and brought back memories of their awkward encounter in the hallway.

“Did.. Did you just wake up? I’m sorry if I woke you,” Sam said, his eyes darting around the room, taking in the mess from the night before. “Umm it’s ok it’s early.” Ginger responded trying to hide the mess. “You’re joking… right? It’s evening Ginger.” Sam said, a look of confusion crossing his face.

Ginger looked at the clock, it read 7:30 PM. “Oh my god, I totally lost track of time,” she said, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She had been sleeping the whole day away. Yet her body still ached as if she had not rested enough. Sam looked at her with concern, his handsome features etched with a frown. “So I wanted to come over and apologize. Tiffany is kind of…”

“A bitch!” Ginger exclaimed, interrupting Sam before he could finish his sentence. “You don’t have to apologize for her, Sam. She’s not worth it.” The anger in her voice was palpable, but she couldn’t hold back the hurt that bled through her words. “Yeah well it won’t happen again.” Sam said, his voice tight with frustration.

“Oh really you’re not going to fuck her again?” Ginger couldn’t hold back her feelings. She felt bolder for some reasons as the ache stayed throughout her body. “Huh?” Sam looked surprised. “No, I meant what she said to you. It was wrong. She shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” He stepped closer, his eyes searching hers for any signs of residual pain. Ginger felt the pain increase as she winced at his words. The anger and embarrassment from the encounter had not fully dissipated, and his apology was a salve that didn’t quite cover the wound.

“Hmmm let me guess you used that big fat cock to punish her and now she’ll be a good girl.” Ginger’s eyes widened as she surprised herself. She immediately looked down embarrassed at how explicit her words were. “Yeah… wait, how do you know this?” Sam’s eyes narrowed.

“Cmon Sam. The whole building could hear you two.” Ginger mumbled, avoiding eye contact with him. She felt a strange mix of emotions, a cocktail of anger, embarrassment, and something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “I’m not mad at you, I just don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“Well I meant it. I would love to watch Attack on Titan with you.” Sam said, his voice gentle and sincere. Ginger's heart did a little dance in her chest. Could it be that he was actually interested? “No Sam, I think you’d rather watch me attack that cock!” Ginger’s mouth hung open, shocked at the words that had tumbled out of her mouth. It was as if the pain from the day had turned her into a completely different person, one that was not afraid to speak her mind.

Ginger could feel the pain increasing in her chest as she looked at Sam, unsure of what to say. “Whoa Ginger! Are you ok?” Sam asked, taking a step closer. The genuine concern in his voice was like a balm to her soul, soothing some of the raw anger she felt. It was like something else was in her itching to come out. “I… I’m sorry I don’t feel so great.”

Without warning, the memory of the brunette's spell crashed over her like a wave. She glanced outside, the curtains billowing in the evening breeze. The sun had set, and the moon was a silver sliver in the dark sky. The ache in her hand was now a pulsing throb, a reminder of the mysterious encounter. Her eyes grew wide with realization. “Yeah you look like you’re burning up.” Sam said as he placed his palm on her forehead. “Whoa you definitely have a fever! You’re hot!”

“About time you noticed me!” Ginger exclaimed, her voice laced with seduction. Sam stepped back, his eyes searching hers, his hand still hovering near her forehead. He had felt the heat, but now he could see it. Her eyes had changed, the green of her irises swirling with gold, a fiery dance that seemed to reflect the intensity of her emotions.

Ginger stepped away and shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I think you should go ah ah” Ginger grabbed her stomach as the pain was unbearable now. She felt a warmth spread through her body, starting from her hand and moving up her arm. Her heart raced as the heat grew stronger, and she could feel something happening to her. Her skin began to tingle, and she watched in horror as her nails grew longer, sharper, and a deep crimson color.

“Sam what’s happening to me?” she whispered, her voice trembling as she held out her hand for him to see. But instead of fear, Sam's eyes lit up with something akin to excitement. His gaze roamed over her body, and she felt a strange sensation, as if his eyes were physically caressing her. Her body responded to his gaze, her breasts growing heavier, her nipples hardening into points that pushed against the fabric of her shirt. She felt her body stretch and change, her curves becoming more pronounced, and her skin taking on an ethereal glow.

Her sweatpants grew tighter, the fabric straining against her expanding ass. She looked down to find that her buttocks had swelled to an impossible size, the material of her panties stretching to the point of transparency. It was as if she had been blessed with the voluptuousness of a goddess overnight, and the sight of her own transformation was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. The pain in her hand had spread throughout her body, but it had morphed into a pleasurable ache that made her want to moan with each movement.

Ginger's short hair grew longer with every passing second, cascading down her back in fiery waves. Her cheekbones sharpened, and her eyes grew brighter, the green now a mesmerizing emerald that seemed to sparkle in the dim light of her room. Her glasses slipped off her nose, no longer needed as her vision corrected itself. She watched in the mirror as her body continued to change, her arms and legs filling with a newfound strength and feminine muscle that rippled under her skin like living art.

“Ungh fuck this feels so good!” Ginger couldn’t believe the words that slipped from her lips as her body continued to change. Her skin tightened over her newfound muscles, the sensation a delicious mix of pain and pleasure. The tingling grew more intense, moving down her spine and into her legs, making them longer and more powerful. She watched in the mirror as her thighs bulged and her calves grew defined, every muscle fiber standing out in sharp relief.

Her ears grew pointed and sensitive, picking up sounds she’d never noticed before. The distant hum of the city, the rustle of clothes as Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and the unmistakable sound of his breathing growing heavier. She could feel his eyes on her, and it was as if they were caressing her skin, setting it alight with a burning need for his touch. Her nose twitched, and she caught a whiff of his arousal, the musky scent making her heart race even faster.

Her eyes zeroed in on the bulge in Sam's pants, and she felt a strange power surge through her. The room grew hotter, the air thick with the tension that crackled between them. Ginger’s breath came in short, ragged gasps, and she could feel a wetness growing between her legs, her panties now sticking to her swollen sex. She was aware of her own beauty in a way she never had been before, and she knew that Sam couldn’t resist her.

The smell of his desire was intoxicating, a heady aroma that seemed to fill the room. She took a step closer, her hips swaying in a way she had never allowed them to before. The pain in her hand had become a pulsing beat, matching the rhythm of her own heart. She reached out and took his hand, her eyes never leaving his, and led him to her bed. His eyes were wide with shock, but he followed her without protest, as if under a spell.

Ginger felt her own body responding to his touch, her skin growing more sensitive with every brush of his fingers. Her breasts heaved with every breath, the fabric of her shirt now stretched to its limits. She watched as his gaze followed the movement, his pupils dilating even further. She felt a smug satisfaction at the power she now wielded over him, a stark contrast to the helplessness she had felt just hours ago.

Sam's hand hovered over her chest, and she could feel the warmth of his palm even before he made contact. His breath hitched as he finally touched her, his thumb brushing over the peak of one breast. The sensation was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core. Her knees buckled slightly, and she leaned into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. His eyes never left hers, the intensity of his gaze making her feel exposed, yet somehow seen for the first time.

The air grew thick with their mingling scents, the sweetness of her arousal and the musk of his desire. Ginger could hear the rapid thud of Sam’s heart, the erratic beat matching the tempo of her own. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the warmth of his skin beckoning her closer. Every inch of her was alive with sensation, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

Her eyes locked onto Sam’s, and she could see the hunger in them, the need that mirrored her own. His hand trailed down her arm, the calluses on his fingers sending a delicious shiver up her spine. She watched his pupils dilate further, his gaze dropping to her mouth, and she knew he wanted to kiss her. To claim her. And she wanted it too, with a ferocity that surprised even herself.

The scent of his arousal grew stronger, filling her nostrils with a heady musk that made her core throb with need. She could hear the quickening of his breath, feel the heat radiating from his body as he stepped closer. It was intoxicating, a siren's call that she couldn’t resist. Her hand reached up to cradle his face, pulling him down to her, her heart hammering in her chest like a drum.

The moment their lips met, it was as if a dam had burst. The kiss was explosive, a conflagration of passion that consumed them both. Sam’s arms wrapped around her, his hands exploring her newfound curves with a desperate hunger that matched her own. Ginger’s skin was a canvas of sensation, each caress setting her alight with pleasure. Her body felt alive in a way it never had before, every nerve ending singing with a symphony of desire.

Her nose twitched again, the scent of his arousal now so potent it was almost overwhelming. It was a heady mix of musk and sweat, a pheromonal beacon that drew her closer. She could feel his cock, thick and hard, pressing against her stomach, demanding release. The ache in her hand had transformed into a throbbing need that traveled through her entire being, a hunger that could only be satiated by the taste of him.

Her tongue flicked out, tasting the salty sweetness of his skin as she traced the line of his jaw with a gentle nip. Sam groaned, the sound vibrating through her body, setting every nerve ending alight. His hands slid up her back, his strong, calloused fingers digging into her flesh. The sensation was exquisite, a delicious blend of pain and pleasure that had her arching into him, her breasts pushing against his chest.

Her heightened sense of smell picked up on the scent of his desire, a potent aphrodisiac that made her head spin. It was intoxicating, a siren's song that grew louder with every beat of her heart. She could feel the heat of his arousal through the fabric of their clothes, a testament to the power she had over him.

The sound of his breath grew more ragged, the air in the room seeming to thicken with every shallow intake. Ginger's own breathing matched his, as if they were two animals caught in the throes of an ancient mating dance. Her body responded to his proximity, her skin a live wire of sensation that begged for his touch.

Her eyes narrowed, her heightened vision taking in every detail of Sam's face. The way his pupils dilated with desire, the flush that spread from his cheeks to his neck, and the slight tremble of his bottom lip as she traced it with her teeth. She could smell his arousal, a potent scent that seemed to coat the very air they breathed. It was a heady mix of musk and sweat, a scent so primal it made her want to purr with need.

The fabric of Sam’s jeans grew damp as her hand brushed against the bulge in his pants, and she could feel his cock pulse with every beat of his heart. The sensation was exquisite, a silent communication that told her exactly what he wanted. She felt a thrill of power, a delicious sense of control that she had never felt before.

Her heightened hearing picked up the sound of his racing heart, the wetness of their kisses, and the faint rustle of their clothes as they moved together. The symphony of desire grew louder with every passing second, drowning out the world outside their bubble of passion. Ginger’s body was a maelstrom of sensation, her newfound strength and agility guiding her every move.

Her eyes, now a fiery gold, locked onto the pulsing vein in Sam’s neck, the lifeblood of his desire beckoning to her. She felt a hunger stir within her, a craving that was both terrifying and thrilling. Her fangs elongated, a reminder of the spell that had transformed her. She hadn’t noticed before, but now, they were all she could focus on.

Sam’s breath was hot against her neck, his teeth grazing her skin, and she felt her body respond with a tremble. The pressure grew as his teeth scraped against her flesh, and she knew he could feel the pulse of her vein beneath. It was as if her body was begging for his bite, craving the connection that would seal their bond.

Her hand slid down his chest, her fingertips tracing the lines of his muscles before finding the button of his jeans. With a quick flick, she undid them, her hand sliding into his boxers to grasp his cock. It was hot and heavy in her palm, a testament to his desire for her. She stroked him gently at first, watching his eyes roll back in his head with pleasure. His hands tightened on her hips, urging her closer.

Ginger felt a rush of power as she realized she had Sam exactly where she wanted him. She straddled his waist, her knees pressing into the soft mattress on either side of his hips. He was so big, so powerful, and yet she had him at her mercy. With a seductive smile, she guided him to her entrance, her wetness coating his shaft. The anticipation was unbearable, the ache in her core demanding release.

With one swift motion, she sank down onto him, her tight pussy enveloping his length. Sam’s eyes rolled back in his head, a guttural moan escaping his throat. The sensation of his hard cock inside her was unlike anything she’d ever felt. The pain from her transformation had given way to pleasure, and she reveled in the feeling of being filled by him.

Ginger’s body moved on instinct, her hips rocking back and forth in a rhythm that was as old as time itself. Sam’s hands were everywhere, gripping her ass, her hips, her breasts. He was lost in the moment, and she reveled in the power she had over him. Her newfound strength made every thrust feel more powerful, more intense, and she knew he could feel it too.

With each movement, she could feel the energy from the spell coursing through her, heightening her senses. The scent of their mingled arousal was intoxicating, making her want to devour him whole. Her fangs ached, and she knew the urge to bite was growing stronger. She leaned in, her teeth grazing the soft skin of his neck, feeling the pulse of his vein beneath her lips.

Sam's hands found their way to her breasts, kneading them with a desperation that matched the rhythm of their hips. The sensation was overwhelming, and she couldn’t hold back the loud moan that escaped her. It echoed through the room, a sound that seemed to resonate in the very fabric of reality itself. His own moan grew deeper, his hands moving to her hips to help guide her movements.

With every moan, Ginger felt the power of the transformation coursing through her, fueling her desire and her need to claim Sam. Each stroke of his cock against her walls sent waves of pleasure through her, and she could feel herself getting closer to the edge. The room spun around her, the colors more vivid than she had ever seen them. She threw her head back, her moans growing louder, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to fill the entire space.

Her hips moved faster, her movements more erratic, as she chased the orgasm that was just out of reach. Sam’s grip on her tightened, his own breathing growing more ragged. She could feel his muscles tensing, his body preparing for his release. Ginger knew she had him, knew she had him under her spell. The thrill of it was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

With a final, powerful thrust, she sank her teeth into his neck. Sam's body tensed, and a strangled cry of pleasure ripped from his throat. The taste of his blood was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, a heady cocktail of life and passion that set her ablaze. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she came, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. Her body convulsed around him, milking his cock with every pulse of her orgasm.

The room was alive with the sound of their mating, the wet slaps of their bodies coming together melding with their guttural moans. Ginger’s newfound strength allowed her to ride Sam with a fervor that bordered on the bestial, her hips moving in a frenetic dance that seemed to shake the very foundation of the apartment. His own cries grew louder as he matched her rhythm, his hands clutching at her ass, his nails digging into her flesh.

The scent of their union grew stronger, a potent mix of sweat and blood that seemed to feed the transformation. Ginger’s eyes never left Sam’s, the gold in her irises burning with an intensity that seemed almost supernatural. Her nails, now claws, scored lines down his back, leaving trails of crimson that stood out starkly against his pale skin. His own cries grew more desperate, his hips bucking up to meet hers, driving himself deeper inside her.

Ginger’s moans grew louder, filling the room with a cacophony of pleasure that seemed to resonate through her very soul. She could feel the power of the spell building within her, each gasp and whimper a release of energy that seemed to fuel her further. Sam’s eyes widened with a mix of fear and desire as she took his face in her hands, pulling him closer.

With a final, desperate thrust, Sam climaxed, his body shuddering beneath her. His cock pulsed inside her, sending waves of ecstasy crashing through her body. His blood flowed into her mouth, the metallic tang of it mixing with the sweetness of his release. Ginger swallowed greedily, the taste of him a powerful elixir that seemed to complete the transformation.

Her eyes rolled back in her head as the orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, the power of it stealing her breath away. Her body spasmed around him, her muscles tightening and releasing in an endless symphony of pleasure. They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies entwined in a tangle of limbs and passion. Sam’s blood coated her tongue, and she felt a sense of satisfaction that was almost primal.

As the waves of pleasure receded, Ginger pulled away, her teeth retracting and her eyes returning to their usual emerald hue. She looked down at Sam, his body now limp and still beneath hers, his chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. His eyes fluttered open, and she watched as confusion clouded his gaze. She watched as he passed out on her bed.

Ginger awoke to the sound of her alarm. Her body felt sore in places she hadn't felt before, and she was momentarily disoriented. She sat up, her head swimming with memories of the night that had just passed. But as she looked down at herself, she realized that she was back in her plain, geeky body. Her breasts were no longer swollen, and the fiery red hair had retreated back to its usual mousy brown. The pain in her hand was gone, and she was once again bespectacled. It was as if the whole thing had been a dream.

But then she saw him—Sam, sprawled out on her bed, his shirt hiked up, revealing a trail of teeth marks and scratches on his back. The reality of the situation crashed over her like a cold shower. It hadn’t been a dream. Her heart raced as she took in the sight of him, his handsome face relaxed in sleep, the smell of sex still lingering in the air.

Ginger’s cheeks flushed as she recalled the feral passion of their encounter, the way she had claimed him, marked him as hers. Her eyes fell to the crimson mark on her hand, a stark reminder of the spell that had transformed her. The giggle that had bubbled up in her chest died in her throat, replaced by a low growl of desire that seemed to resonate through her very bones. It was a thrilling thought—every full moon, she’d become this all-powerful creature of beauty and passion, capable of ensnaring any man she chose.

[pricegouge]

I'm dogshit at writing convoluted drama because people are a mystery to me and I get character motivations mixed up so this will never happen BUT I did binge rivals after that anon suggested (also cause that Declan guy can get it) and yeah they were right about it the daddaughter potential but let's simplify it just a smidge.

cw: you guessed it. Age gap and stepcest cause I'm apparently gonna die here. Unwanted touches, but not from John. Nothing happens here cause it's just a concept but still, MDNI

Like imagine your mom started dating John when you were older and you know he's a perv because you see the way he kisses your mom far too passionately for the middle of the day in the damn family room with his eyes fully open so he can stare at you while actually trying to forcefeed your mom his tongue, it seems. But you've nowhere really to go be cause times are tough so day in and day out you have to watch him struggle to snuff out his obvious desire for you so he can be a father figure. And it's not even like that's really what you want from him because you're an adult yourself, but unfortunately - when he does get it right - he is very good at being a father figure. Like keeping all his lads at bay, each of them dirtier than the last, it seems. They frightened you the first time you found yourself playing hostess to them, left alone in the sitting room for too long while your mom distracted John in the kitchen. But when he resurfaces, John takes one look at the hands of his overeager sergeants climbing dangerously high on your thigh and the look of sheer panic on your face as his lieutenant hulks over you and he puts the fear of God in them, every subsequent visit the very picture of respectful.

Until a charming American comes by, all easy smiles and infectious charm. He doesn't listen when John warns him off, especially not when you can't help being drawn to him.

John warns you about Phil that night after the party's wound down but you don't exactly take his taste in character very seriously, all things considered, so you mettle, find a way to keep in touch -.

And watch in horror as John lays him out across the front lawn the next time he comes by, screaming something about Phil having promised not to touch you. In your fury you wind up with Phil, John's own actions driving you further into the arms of the man he hates. You don't get it, their rivalry, don't see all the faults John had raised. Maybe you're just a silly little girl like he said, but you don't see Phil knocking down visitors either, so you're inclined to believe your own instincts for a time.

But pick your poison because something goes wrong. Maybe you find out something about his past, or you catch him in one-to-many small lies. Maybe you catch him in a very big lie, his pants around his ankles as his secretary's head bobs in his lap. It doesn't matter, its all the same, because it just means John was right, and you crawl back home all shame-faced and dejected, trying to ignore the leer John gives you through the haze of his cigar as your mom wipes your tears and tuts at you about well, father knows best.

[hahnshands]

~ rumours ~

agathario one shot

Context: Agatha Harkness and Rio Vidal, secretly dating and the frontwomen of the band ‘The Road’, are backstage before a show. The tension between them is thick, and their fans are convinced they’re a power couple, though neither has publicly acknowledged it. As the heat between them grows, they tease and flirt, playing a dangerous game of keeping their relationship under wraps. But when the lights go down, their chemistry can’t be ignored any longer.

Parings: agatha x rio rockstar!agatha x rockstar!rio

Authors Note: A longer one this time, i hope you enjoy it :)

Backstage, the thumping bass of the crowd’s anticipation leaks through the walls, but inside the dressing room, it’s just Agatha and Rio. The quiet before the storm feels heavier than usual, charged with a tension that’s been building between them for months. It’s not just the music that has their hearts racing—it’s each other.

Agatha leans against the mirror, her eyes carefully watching Rio as she readies herself for the show. She knows how the fans see them—how they think they know it all, but Agatha and Rio know better. Their connection? It’s deeper than anyone can guess, something they keep hidden from the world. A secret they’ve perfected.

“So,” Agatha begins, voice laced with something wicked. “Have you seen the latest fan theories about us?”

Rio, busy adjusting her leather jacket, glances up at Agatha, pretending to be disinterested, but she can’t quite hide the curiosity in her eyes. “The usual, I assume?” she replies, her tone cool, but there’s a hint of something almost… teasing. “That we’re dating?”

Agatha smiles, a slow, confident smirk. “Oh, it’s more than just dating now,” she says, stepping closer, making sure the words hang heavy in the air. “They’re convinced we’re this… witchy, dark power couple. You know the kind—mysterious, dangerous, and completely in love.” Her voice drops to a murmur, the words meant for Rio’s ears only. “They think we’ve got this twisted, secret love affair going on.”

Rio laughs, but there’s no real humour in it—just the sound of tension trying to crack under the surface. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but there’s an undeniable flicker in her eyes. “You really think they have us figured out that well?” she asks, the challenge in her voice impossible to miss.

Agatha leans in, the space between them shrinking, her lips barely an inch from Rio’s ear. “I think they’re getting closer. The way we look at each other? The way we touch when no one’s around?” She brushes a finger lightly across Rio’s arm, the lightest, most intimate touch, but it sends a jolt through both of them. “They’re getting the idea.”

Rio’s breath hitches, and she can’t suppress the shiver that runs down her spine at Agatha’s words. She turns to face her fully, the distance between them evaporating. “We’re not exactly… public about this, are we?” Her voice is lower now, huskier, the facade of indifference slipping just a little.

Agatha takes another step forward, the space between them so close it’s almost unbearable. “Not yet,” she whispers, her breath warm against Rio’s skin. Her lips hover dangerously close to Rio’s, and she can feel the way Rio’s pulse quickens in response. “But we don’t have to be. Not now. Not when we’re having so much fun keeping them guessing.”

Rio’s lips curve into a smirk, the tension making her pulse race. “Oh, we’re having fun, are we?” she says, voice dripping with sarcasm, but the heat in her eyes tells a different story. “And what exactly are we doing, then? Teasing them for our enjoyment?” She steps closer, pushing the boundaries of their space, almost daring Agatha to cross the line.

Agatha lets out a soft laugh, but it’s dark and full of promise. “Teasing them? Teasing you, Rio.” She’s close now—so close that she can feel the heat radiating off Rio’s body. “Every time I get near you, I know what you want. You just don’t want to admit it.”

Rio meets her gaze, the challenge in her eyes sharpening. “And what exactly do I want, Agatha?” she asks, her voice breathless, but she holds her ground. “You think you know, don’t you?”

Agatha leans in, her lips brushing against Rio’s ear, barely touching, but it’s enough to make Rio’s knees feel weak. “I think you want me,” she whispers, each word wrapped in an undeniable truth. “I think you’ve wanted me for a long time.” She pulls back slightly, her eyes locking onto Rio’s with an intensity that burns. “And I think you’re just waiting for me to make the first move.”

Rio’s chest rises and falls as she fights for control, but she can’t hide the way her body betrays her, reacting to Agatha’s words. She takes a breath, then steps back, her eyes flashing with something more vulnerable. “You always make it hard to pretend this isn’t real,” she admits, her voice rougher now, raw. “You make it impossible, Agatha.”

Agatha’s lips curl into a wicked smile, her eyes dark with desire. “Maybe that’s the point,” she says softly, stepping closer once again, her body nearly pressed against Rio’s. She doesn’t back away, doesn’t hesitate. “Maybe I’m tired of pretending, too.”

Just then, a knock at the door shatters the moment.

“Five minutes,” a stagehand’s voice calls out from the hallway, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps fading away.

Agatha and Rio exchange a look, their hearts racing, but neither of them moves. They know the show is about to start, but the heat between them is still there, simmering just beneath the surface. The knock may have interrupted them, but it hasn’t broken the connection. Not by a long shot.

Rio takes a step back, trying to shake off the tension, but there’s a visible struggle in her eyes. “Guess we’ll have to save it for later,” she says, her voice tinged with frustration and something more.

Agatha smirks, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “You say that now,” she teases, “but you and I both know how hard it’ll be to keep our hands off each other later.”

Rio glances at her, the smirk never leaving her face. “Fine. But when the show’s over…” she says, trailing off, leaving the words to hang in the air.

Agatha just smiles, her gaze full of knowing. “When the show’s over,” she agrees, her voice thick with anticipation, “we’ll see who’s really in control.”

The door swings open, and both women snap back to reality, their secret still hidden from the world. The tension remains, thick and palpable, as they prepare to step out onto the stage—together, but still apart. For now.

The stage is set. The lights are blinding as they walk on stage, the roar of the crowd crashing against them. The energy is electric, but it feels different tonight. Agatha can feel Rio’s eyes on her as they step into position, and Rio knows Agatha’s presence is like a gravitational pull she can’t escape, even in front of thousands of screaming fans.

The moment the music starts, Agatha and Rio are in their element, lost in the rhythm of the song, but it’s the glances they exchange between lyrics, the way their movements seem to be in perfect sync, that makes everything too real. Too personal. Agatha’s hand brushes against Rio’s, an accidental touch—or maybe not.

The crowd doesn’t know it, but every single glance between them speaks volumes. The way Agatha’s fingers graze Rio’s neck during the solo. The way Rio leans in just a little too close during the chorus, lips almost brushing against Agatha’s ear as she belts out the lyrics. It’s a performance, yes, but it’s more than that—so much more.

Between sets, when the lights dim and the band takes a brief break, Agatha watches Rio from across the stage, her eyes tracing the sweat clinging to Rio’s skin, the way her chest rises and falls with every breath. Agatha’s body aches for her, but she forces herself to look away, to pretend it’s just the music they’re sharing.

But Rio, ever perceptive, catches the look. She meets Agatha’s eyes with a smirk, a challenge in her gaze. They both know what’s between them is impossible to ignore—but for now, the show must go on. Their bodies might be a breath away from each other, but they remain in their separate corners of the stage, playing to the crowd, dancing their dangerous game in front of thousands who’ll never know how deep the real performance runs.

The final chorus hits, and for a brief moment, their gazes lock. The crowd is loud, the lights are flashing, but for Agatha and Rio, it’s just them. A small, dangerous world where everyone else is left on the outside looking in.

As the final note rings out, they finish with a flourish, and the crowd erupts in applause. But the connection remains, thick and taut. Rio’s fingers brush against Agatha’s again as they exit the stage, but this time, there’s no pretending it’s just part of the show

The moment they’re behind the curtain, Agatha grabs Rio’s arm, pulling her into the shadowed corner of the backstage area.

“You can’t keep looking at me like that,” Agatha says, her voice thick with desire, her hands trailing down Rio’s arm, feeling the heat radiating from her.

Rio’s breath catches, eye dark with unspoken promises. “I’m not the one who’s been teasing all night,’ she replies , stepping closer, her voice nothing but a whisper at this point, her lips almost brushing Agatha’s. “You’ve been playing a game. And i’m done waiting, Agatha.”

Agatha smirks, her heart pounding in her chest, the pull between them too strong to ignore any longer. “Done waiting?” She repeats, arching an eyebrow. “What makes you think you get to call the shots?’

Rio’s hand slides down Agatha’s side, fingers brushing the curve of her waist, sending electricity through her bandmate. “Because,” Rio purrs, “I know what I want. And I want you. Now.”

The words hang in the air, the tension almost suffocating. The reality of the show, the fans, the rumours, the chaos of the backstage words- they all disappear. It’s just them now, the secrecy of the forbidden need that’s been bubbling under the surface for too long.

Before Agatha can say anything, Rio pulls her in by the collar of her outfit, lips crashing into hers with a fervent hunger that’s been festering for centuries. It’s messy, it’s raw and it’s everything they’ve been holding back from each other. The kiss is fierce, a silent acknowledgement of everything they’ve kept hidden and everything they’re about to lose.

When they finally pull apart, breathless and flushed, Rio’s smile is slow, almost smug. “You don’t think I know what’s been between us all along?”

Agatha, heart still racing, looks at her— wide-eyed. “You’re sure you want this? We’ve got a lot to lose”

Rio pulls her closer again, hands sliding to the back of Agatha’s neck. “I willing to do risk it all. Do some damage, for you.”

Agatha’s lips curl into a smile, her breath shaky with the weight of everything. She leans, her voice a whisper against Rio’s swollen lips. “Then let’s make this risk count.”

Before Rio can respond, Agatha pins her up against the wall, the urgency between them ramping up once again, their hands roaming like they’ve been waiting for this moment since the beginning of time. The rest of the world ceases to exist— just the feel of Rio’s soft lips on hers, the gentle nipping of Rio’s teeth, the heat of their bodies pressed together, the wildness of breaking every unspoken rule they’ve set for themselves.

[flowersdiceandlove]

Please tell me about your Eminence in Shadow!SY AU, that sounds really interesting and badass

Okay, so, in case you don’t know “Eminence in Shadow” is a reincarnation, isekai anime where a guy named Cid Kageno ends up in a world with magic. He likes playing as “Background Character A” by day and being “The Eminence in Shadow” by night. I was watching this anime and while I was watching, I felt like Cid and Shen Yuan were a lot alike. (I’ve only watched the anime which only has two seasons, so anything beyond that in the manga I have no idea about)

Now, onto the idea (I og had this written out as a prompt and then thought, huh, this might actually be fun to write, so just…didn’t post the prompt. I think I’ll come back later and post an actual prompt for this though. But, I'm literally just copy/pasting what I already wrote for this.)

Imagine, Shen Yuan transmigrates into Background Character A in PIDW, and, just like Cid, throws himself into the role. He just wants to get through the plot without drawing attention to himself so he can avoid Bingge's ire. But! But! This is Shen Yuan who has always dreamed of transmigrating into this type of story. How can he just pass up the chance of becoming a cool cultivator??? He can't, that's how! So then, how does one remain Background Character A while also being a Mysterious And Cool Cultivator? By acting out his role as Background Character A during the day and growing his power to become a cool cultivator in secret! That's how!

He'll spend his days idling and playing his role as Just Some Guy to perfection, but in secret, he'll hone his cultivator abilities, slay monsters, study demonic beasts, and live out his cultivator fantasy! He transmigrates early, maybe as a baby, and uses all his knowledge of reading PIDW and other cultivation stories to work out how to cultivate in secret. He won't interfere with the plot, making sure he blends into the background so as not to draw attention to himself, and will be able to survive the merging of the realms with his cultivation abilities when that time eventually comes.

But, of course, this is Shen Yuan we're talking about. He stumbles his way into trouble and wifebeams people. He plays up his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator act like Shadow/Cid does and ends up amassing his own Shadow Garden (harem of highly trained women dedicated to Shadow and his cause, for those of you who haven't seen Eminence in Shadow) but the gay xianxia version. We're gonna get Zhuzhi-Lang, Liu Qingge, ect. But, just like Shadow/Cid, Shen Yuan does not realize he has amassed this massive harem who would literally do anything for him and have created an entire clandestine organization (that's really more of an empire) with him as the head. He thinks they're all just Really Good Friends who are helping him live out his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator dreams.

Just like Shadow/Cid bullshits the Cult of Diablo, Shen Yuan is gonna bullshit his own stuff. And, just like with Shadow/Cid's stuff, Shen Yuan's words are gonna turn out to be true. I'm thinking he ends up uncovering all the corruption and drama surrounding the Old Palace Master and Huan Hua Palace. It'll probably end up being a whole big thing and once they start digging, they just find more and more sects, companies, people, etc. involved in this. Part of the corruption and wrong-doings they find, is a lot of provoking of demons. Shen Yuan, of course, knows none of this, and always ends up on the outskirts of the investigations bullshitting some Wise Nonsense that has everyone in awe before kicking the Bad Guy's butt, not knowing what's Really Going On.

He remains oblivious to all the Drama going on and what he's leaving in his wake. One thing he is absolutely certain he must do is Keep A Low Profile and remain Background Character A, so all his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator adventures are done in secret and he makes sure that his version of Shadow Garden knows that This Is SECRET!! Do Not Tell. shhhh.

Just like in Eminence in Shadow, Shen Yuan's harem (that he still doesn't know is his harem) venture out on their own to gather more people to add to the harem join their cause.

Shen Yuan had to have met Liu Qingge before he entered CQMS. Maybe Shen Yuan's Background Family is from the same village/city the Liu Family is from and so they grew up in the same social circle. When Liu Qingge eventually goes to join CQMS Shen Yuan sighs and thinks What a good guy, playing with me all this time. Now he's off to be a Great Cultivator himself. I hope we can still see each other again sometime. Not at all knowing that Liu Qingge has the BIGGEST crush on him and once in CQMS is trying to recruit more people to join Shen Yuan's harem organization. He probably convinces at least half of the future Qing generation in time as well as many disciples from various peaks. It helps when on a couple night-hunts Shen Yuan, in Mysterious And Cool Cultivator mode, showed up out of nowhere and solved the problem like a Wise Immortal and effectively wifebeaming all present.

For Zhuzhi-Lang, Shen Yuan definitely found him hurt and cooed over him, nursing him back to health. Eventually Zhuzhi-Lang had to return to the Demon Realm and Tianlang-jun, but tells Tianlang-jun about the Nice Human Cultivator who took care of him. Tianlang-jun clocks Zhuzhi-Lang's crush immediately, and tells him that he can go woo his human all he wants as long as it doesn't interfere with work, and also, he would like to meet this human.

Shen Yuan nearly has a heart attack when the DEMON EMPEROR (and Luo Binghe's father!! Ahhh!) shows up at his house to invite him to a picnic (thankfully no one else saw this so his cover as Background Character A is still in check). He doesn't turn him down though, that would be stupid, Tianlang-jun could kill him in a heartbeat if he offended him. So, he goes on the picnic. Tianlang-jun thanks him for taking such good care of his nephew, and Zhuzhi-Lang is a blushing mess the entire time. Tianlang-jun as being Tianlang-jun keeps trying to set Shen Yuan and Zhuzhi-lang up. Shen Yuan laughs it off. Clearly Tianlang-jun is quite the jokester and eternally flamboyant (and you know how Tianlang-jun is), and thinks all his suggestive comments are just his weird sense of humor. Tianglang-jun is most definitely trying to get both Zhuzhi-Lang and himself into Shen Yuan's pants. Shen Yuan is, of course, oblivious to this.

After the picnic Tianlang-jun and Zhuzhi-Lang leave but have secured invitation from Shen Yuan to return as they please so long as they keep it hush hush. Zhuzhi-Lang will actually visit a lot and spend a lot of time in tiny snake form curled up around Shen Yuan's arm under his sleeve or in his robes. Shen Yuan idly pets and strokes him, feeling the cool texture of his scales without thinking about it. When he does realize, Zhuzhi-Lang tells him that it's fine and he can keep petting him as much as he wants. Sometimes people will see Shen Yuan, Background Character A, with a green snake on his arm, or in his robes, or draped across his shoulders, but never really think too much about it, thinking he just has a normal pet snake.

Since this initial meeting, there are a lot more snakes around the Shen Estate, and Shen Yuan's parents tell him to get it under control, thinking that his pet snake is attracting them. Shen Yuan apologizes and says he will. Zhuzhi-Lang then tells his snake underlings to hide better. They were there to make sure Shen Yuan was safe, not get him in trouble.

When Zhuzhi-Lang is back in the Demon Realm he talks about Shen Yuan. He also knows about the Mysterious And Cool Cultivator thing and is also trying to recruit demons to his harem cause. Tianlang-jun knows about this and is fine with it. He's long decided that he's gonna get Shen Yuan into his bed family service and so him having his own underlings and support of demons would only make it easier to do so down the road.

Despite Shen Yuan's meddling, the Tianlang-Jun and Su Xiyan thing still happens and the Old Palace Master stuff leading to Tianlang-jun being sealed. Even with Shen Yuan and his harem friends taking down branches of corruption, they weren't able to take down the Old Palace Master (not yet at least). So, that whole Fiasco happens. Shen Yuan feels guilty about it. Tianlang-jun and Zhuzhi-Lang had become his friends and he knew what was coming. He was confused though because Tianlang-jun did not seem like he was trying to take over the Human Realm and that was why he was sealed. Maybe the System finally decided to pop in and say he couldn't interfere in it, and that some things just had to happen for plot reasons (like with the Endless Abyss). Or, Maybe Shen Yuan didn't see it coming, thinking that he had somehow influenced Tianlang-jun to not want to invade the Human Realm, not knowing that it had always been a lie and set up, the truth never being revealed in PIDW.

Zhuzhi-Lang flees to Shen Yuan, hurt from the attack, and, of course, Shen Yuan accepts him even in his half snake, half humanoid form. It took him a moment, but then he recognized it was Zhuzhi-Lang by his eyes and tended his wounds (again). Zhuzhi-Lang tells him the story of what he and Tianlang-jun believe to be true. By the time he's well enough to do that though, Shen Yuan isn't able to do anything about Su Xiyan's situation. She's already long vanished. Shen Yuan also decides that once Bailu Forest isn't under such careful observation after Tianlang-Jun's sealing, he'll go see the man with Zhuzhi-Lang to see what his state is. Despite it all and Tianlang-jun's...unique personality, Shen Yuan still considers him a friend and wants to help where he can.

It, unfortunately, takes a while for things to cool down around Bailu Mountain and then again to find a way to Tianlang-jun's prison without setting off any alarms. By the time Shen Yuan finally sees Tianlang-jun again, years have passed. He's alive, but not in a great state what with being crushed under a mountain and all. Shen Yuan is in awe of the resilience of Heavenly Demons. When Tianlang-jun sees Shen Yuan he's like "ah, if it's the only human who hasn't betrayed me. What brings you to this place?" all casually. Shen Yuan actually brought him some trashy books and food that he knew Tianlang-jun would like and Tianlang-jun is overjoyed by it. You wouldn't even think he was being squished under a mountain with how happy he was.

Shen Yuan works with Zhuzhi-Lang to figure out how to get Tianlang-jun out, but only after he makes Tianlang-jun promise not to slaughter everyone (probably saying some Wise Nonsense, but is really just trying to get Tianlang-jun to not obliterate humanity). Tianlang-jun pouts, but does. Shen Yuan appeases him by getting him more trashy books and human paraphernalia. During this time, Shen Yuan mentions (intentionally) that he heard rumors that Su Xiyan may be pregnant—Shen Yuan doesn’t think Tianlang-jun’s as interested as he should be in this development; this is Luo Binghe after all—and also that he thinks there’s more to this than they originally thought. Tianlang-jun’s attention is then fully shifted from killing all humans except Shen Yuan, to figuring out what’s going on because hm, you’re right, A-Yuan, this doesn’t make much sense.

With Shen Yuan also working on how to get Tianlang-jun out, Zhuzhi-Lang is able to go back to the Demon Realm to keep things in order. At least to an extent. They keep the fact that they’re trying to free Tianlang-jun a secret bc you never know where there are eyes and ears. Shen Yuan helps Zhuzhi-Lang keep his more humanoid appearance since Tianlang-jun isn’t able to, so that helps Zhuzhi-Lang keep the demons under control, but doesn’t help a whole lot. Things still kinda fall apart there. Shen Yuan’s harem organization is still holding up there and work in secret despite the shakiness in the Demon Realm and the demons in it even use the political uncertainty to their advantage to gain more power.

Maybe Shen Yuan figures out how to make the Sun and Moon Dew Mushroom compatible with demonic qi or maybe he finds another solution. But, either way, he gets Tianlang-jun’s soul out from under the mountain. There is just one caveat of this new body. It must grow from infanthood again at a normal rate. They grow the body, and then Tianlang-jun’s soul pops over to it when it’s a baby, freeing him from his prison. Since the Demon Realm has grown unstable and Tianlang-jun is in a vulnerable state, they decide that the best and safest course of action is for Shen Yuan to keep Tianlang-jun in his care. So, Shen Yuan returns home with baby Tianlang-jun claiming the baby’s his. What better place to hide than in Background Family A, after all? Shen Yuan’s been doing it for decades at this point and thinks it’s the perfect way of living. Thankfully, Tianlang-jun, despite being a baby, does still know how to control his demonic qi, and is able to hide it, making himself appear like a normal human baby.

When the rest of Shen Yuan’s harem Friends find out about “his baby” they’re all seething in jealousy wondering who the mother is. (gender neutral use of the term “mother” here. That harem is definitely trying to figure out how to have Shen Yuan’s baby or get Shen Yuan to have their baby) They also start seething in jealousy over the baby itself bc Shen Yuan is doting on him to the max. He’s holding and rocking him, soothing him, patting him, feeding him, cooing over him, ect. Shen Yuan just can’t get over how cute baby Tianlang-jun is, and is wondering what baby Bingge looked like. (By this point, Binghe’s already entered CQMS)

Every time Liu Qingge leaves the sect to go on a night-hunt, he always stops by the Shen Estate to see Shen Yuan and drop off some monster head/part for him. Shen Yuan always greets him with a smile and thanks him, but asks if dropping the bloody carcass in the entry hall was really necessary. Who’s gonna clean this all up, Liu-didi, hm? Be nicer to the servants! Don’t make unnecessary work for them! The first time Liu Qingge sees the baby, he’s doing this. Shen Yuan comes out to meet him with the baby in his arms, and the sight of Shen Yuan holding a baby, smiling at him, and welcoming him back makes his brain blank for a long moment.

Shen Yuan either is super vague about the baby!Tianlang-jun’s mom or has a super detailed background story ready to go. It’s a bit of a minor scandal in the way that all bastards are, but Background Family Father A is happy to get a grandson from Shen Yuan.

As baby!Tianlang-jun grows up, he gets super smug about having Shen Yuan as his dad and attention. He’s good at playing his role as a little kid around others, but then in private just acts like his usual self, lounging around like the emperor he is, reading scandalous smut, and saying all his suggestive and lucious things. When the members of Shen Yuan’s harem Shen Yuan’s friends show up, he always plays up the act and gets Shen Yuan to let him sit in his lap, pet his hair, snuggle against his side, or something. Shen Yuan’s harem friends swear that the kid knows what he’s doing, but can only chug vinegar in silence bc it’s Shen Yuan’s son. Tianlang-jun is loving having Shen Yuan as his dad, being the only one to call him “daddy” or “baba” or “a-die” or such and has Shen Yuan curled around his finger with his cuteness. (He’s long stopped trying to get into Shen Yuan’s pants and is much happier being his adoptive son. He is still trying to set up Shen Yuan and Zhuzhi-Lang though.)

Because of Shen Yuan’s interference, Liu Qingge either doesn’t have that deadly qi deviation, or is stable enough that when Shen Qingqiu tries to help him with it, is actually able to help. So, Liu Qingge lives.

When Luo Bingge is finally out of the Endless Abyss and is working his way through conquering the Demon Realm, he starts to slowly find out about this vast and secret organization that’s in control of so much. Digging deeper, he’s able to uncover that it spans into the Human Realm and includes some well respected and high class cultivators too. Luo Bingge tries to wriggle out who the leader is, but everyone is so tightlipped and elusive that he’s actually having trouble finding info out. It drives him mad. Xin Mo is also capitalizing on this obsession. Luo Bingge can’t be the indisputable Emperor of all if there’s some shadow organization pulling the strings behind the scenes. Shen Yuan, however, is blissfully unaware that he’s caught the attention of Luo Bingge, still thinking he’s successfully flown under the radar, and tells his harem Friends to avoid getting on Luo Binghe’s bad side and to help him however they can, hoping that this will get those that would have died as canon fodder in Bingge’s rise to greatness to be able to survive it. This just drives Luo Bingge even more up the wall bc he doesn’t know why this secret organization is deciding to back him in everything and so he doesn’t know their motives and so he can’t use those motives to his advantage and so he doesn’t have absolute control! 

When he does finally get a member of the harem organization to talk to him, they just say “Our master is wise. He sees potential in you. Do not squander our master’s good will.” because when they asked why Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan said something like “I believe he’s destined for greatness. I want to see the world he creates.” or “He has great promise. I want to see what he does.” all sage like while internally panicking, hoping that that was vague enough so they don’t continue to ask why he wants to help this random demon that he’s never met. This answer does not help to assuage Bingge’s unease at this secret organization and their secret leader, and only makes it worse bc how does this man know Luo Binghe well enough to know his POTENTIAL!?!?! But he can’t ask the person more bc they vanished from their cell after Luo Bingge was called away on urgent business. And, they also somehow have a way to counteract his blood parasites. Bingge is seriously losing it over this. (He doesn’t know about Zhuzhi-Lang and Tianlang-jun, and I’m sure they both know a lot more about Heavenly Demon abilities and how to counteract them than Bingge does)

Shen Yuan and his harem friends end up leading Bingge through the Demon and Human Realms with mind games and wild goose chases, every adventure leading to Bingge gaining more power. Shen Yuan eventually learns that he’s caught Bingge’s eye and hopes that this all will show that Shen Yuan is a friend and not a foe. See! He’s helping you gain power, Bingge!! We’re not enemies!!

Luo Bingge is not put at ease by this and every encounter with the harem organization is just leaving him more frazzled. Eventually Shen Yuan and Luo Bingge meet on one of these crazy adventures when Shen Yuan had to get involved, Shen Yuan in his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator act, and disguised so that even a Heavenly Demon and the protagonist won’t be able to recognize him. (Zhuzhi-Lang and Tianlang-jun helped him test his disguise out) Shen Yuan spouts more of his Wise Nonsense at Luo Binghe to make Luo Binghe see that they’re on Bingge’s side before vanishing without a trace. After every time, Luo Bingge screams and levels some stuff in frustration. He still doesn’t know what these people are after! How are they so elusive!? 

Because of all this, Luo Binghe’s plans to infiltrate Huan Hua Palace and destroy Cang Qiong Mountain Sect are put on hold. He doesn’t know exactly how far this secret organization's power reaches, but he can’t go in blind with such a big power behind the scenes. He does know that the secret organization has reaches in CQMS, but doesn’t know how deep (Liu Qingge’s been hard at work there and all of Bai Zhan is under Shen Yuan’s command along with over half of the other peaks. Shang Qinghua is freaking out because he didn’t write this!!! Who the fuck is that guy!?!? Why is he rivaling Bingge!?!?! And, WHY IS HE WINNING!?!?!? Bingge’s supposed to reign supreme, not some rando he never even wrote! He’s wondering if he maybe wrote out this idea while high as fuck and delusional with sleep depravation which is why he doesn’t remember it, but he knows he wouldn’t do that even at his most addled bc Bingge is supposed to be unrivaled. That’s why he scrapped the Tianlang-jun vs Bingge idea.) 

Bingge gets so caught up in paranoia over this secret organization and not knowing whose a part of it and who's not and what they really want that he’s not negating Xin Mo with dual cultivation bc are the women part of the organization? Are they in on it? What do they want? What do they gain by sleeping with me? So his control is slipping.

It’s also during this time that the harem organization start getting closer to Huan Hua Palace and the Old Palace Master. Their progress is helped when Shen Yuan, during a friendly get together with one of the high ranking members of his harem organization his Friends, he accidentally slips that he’s wondering the validity of the Old Palace Master’s claims of Tianlang-jun wanting to invade the Human Realm and the story of what’s really going on there. The harem organization takes his words as Shen Yuan telling them to look into this matter, so they set their sights fully on Huan Hua Palace and the Old Palace Master.

Not long later, they uncover the Truth, and clear Tianlang-jun’s name, dragging the Old Palace Master’s through the mud. Tianlang-jun, hearing about this, swoops in and kills a whole bunch of Huan Hua Palace high ranking members and the Old Palace Master along with a bunch of other powerful people involved in the cover up and mess. The organization, at seeing the gruesome slaughter, are at first horrified bc who has this kind of power to slip past the organization's defenses and do this? But, then someone spots Tianlang-jun slipping away, recognizes him as Shen Yuan’s son, and concludes that Shen Yuan was the one to do this. Later, at another friendly get together with Shen Yuan, one of them vaguely mentions the slaughter, subtly asking if Shen Yuan knew of it and even more subtly inquiring if he was the one to do it. Shen Yuan, knowing that Tianlang-jun was the one to do it and just got finished burning the bloody robes Tianlang-jun had come back in after reprimanding him to be more careful what if someone saw you???, doesn’t pick up on this at all and is instead trying to divert attention away from them, says something vague back which only confirms in the organizations mind that Shen Yuan was the one who did it. With their firm belief that Shen Yuan knows what’s best, even if they initially thought the execution was horrific, they believe that they had deserved it if Shen Yuan would resort to such tactics.

The organization sweeps in and helps clean the mess up, CQMS and other sects and businesses affiliated with Shen Yuan and the organization distribute Huan Hua Palace’s wealth and territory, gaining more influence. Luo Binghe hears about all this, and poking around some more, finds that the organization was behind this. The fact that this clandestine organization was able to take down such a well established and reputable sect like Huan Hua Palace only sets him more on edge about them. If they can do that, they could also dethrone him too, couldn’t they?? Just because they haven't outright opposed him yet doesn’t mean they won’t. He cannot trust such a powerful organization.

Eventually, Bingge tracks down Shen Yuan and, in a great show like in Hua Yue City, Shen Yuan has to pull the “self-destruct for you” card to stop Bingge’s qi deviation while saying more Wise And Meaningful Nonsense that has Bingge realizing that this guy was really on his side. This entire time, this guy has had unwavering faith in him and his abilities. This entire time, he’s had his whole organization working to help him in any way possible simply because of that. That this entire time, his only motive was to see what Bingge would become, see the world he creates, and for him to be happy. And now he can’t even do that. Because he’s dead. For Luo Binghe’s sake!!

And, Binghe…

Binghe just can’t take it. He hasn’t had someone so staunchly on his side since his mother died when he was little. He starts bawling. He can’t help it. He hasn’t cried in so long, and he just can’t stop the tears. They just keep coming, a heartbreaking wail from his mouth, while he hugs the dead body to his chest.

Other members of Shen Yuan’s harem organization that watched the whole thing stay standing around this scene, some tears falling from their eyes too, not able to believe that Shen Yuan is really dead. Liu Qingge, and others, are getting ready to fight Luo Binghe for Shen Yuan’s body, but before more fighting can break out, Tianlang-jun struts in with Zhuzhi-Lang following meekly behind him. The harem organization members that don’t know about the truth are shocked and scared bc they were supposed to get Shen Yuan’s son away from this chaos and protect him from Luo Binghe. But, Tianlang-jun (whose like a teenager or something by this point) just ignores everyone’s shouts and deftly evades their protective grabs for him, waking straight up to the still bawling Binghe.

See, Tianlang-jun is not nearly as oblivious as Shen Yuan is—he’s the exact opposite really—so he clocked Luo Binghe starting to fall for Shen Yuan a while ago, captivated by the challenge and mind games that Shen Yuan was playing with him, and is staunchly knowing that Luo Binghe won’t attack them again.

“Luo Binghe, do not fear,” he starts seriously, then breaks out in a massive grin and gives him a thumbs up, “we have contingency plans in case of death! Many of them!” Because of course they do. They’ve long secured the Sun And Moon Dew Mushroom Seeds and started growing them to Shen Yuan’s body. Tianlang-jun also still has access to the Holy Mausoleum and the Resurrection Chamber. And, with both Shen Yuan’s PIDW knowledge and Tianlang-jun’s and with his resources, they have a vast variety of back up bodies and plans for many different circumstances. It is also revealed that this is Tianlang-jun and literally no one is surprised by this development. Of course Shen Yuan’s son is the last Demon Emperor who’s supposed to be sealed under a mountain. It also made some of them “understand” why Shen Yuan had been so ruthless in his execution of the Old Palace Master and others since they now knew he had a personal interest in the matter.

When Shen Yuan wakes up, he’s immediately tackled by a sobbing Luo Binghe who places a big, fat, wet kiss on his mouth. He tries to reel back, but Luo Binghe has him in a death grip, so he can only stare wide-eyed at Luo Binghe until he pulls back to keep sobbing against his chest. Those of the harem organization that were there were furious at this bc barely any of them have kissed Shen Yuan and they’ve been in his harem service longer!! And, instead of shoving Luo Binghe away, Shen Yuan hugs him closer and pats his head, trying to calm him down, whispering that “No, Binghe, I won’t go anywhere. Yes, I can stay with you. Please don’t apologize, Binghe, this isn’t your fault. I should have done better to make you see I was on your side. You’ve done nothing wrong.” and so on.

After this, Shen Yuan is no longer able to maintain his cover as Background Character A, but that’s okay because he only kept it so he wouldn’t get taken out as Bingge’s rival or something. Since Binghe is on his side, he can live his whole life as a Mysterious And Cool Cultivator, living out his transmigration dreams unhindered! But, Binghe, what do you mean you’re making me Empress of the Demon Realm? I’m a man! I can’t be your Empress! Pick a pretty girl for that if you want one! Tianlang-jun, why are you laughing!? Why are you supporting this!?

Binghe convinces Shen Yuan to marry him by presenting it as a political marriage since Shen Yuan is in control of so much, and if he wants Luo Binghe to be the Emperor of it all (which he knows Shen Yuan wants) then they really need to be married and Shen Yuan made Empress for his reign to be undisputed. Shen Yuan eventually figures it out, and by that point he’s also figuring out that he actually has feelings for a lot of his “friends.” Well, it’s a good thing they all want to marry him too.

There are a long line of weddings after this as so many of Shen Yuan’s friends harem demand to be formally married. Binghe fights for position of First Husband. And wins. Because of course he does.

Luo Binghe has pretty much lost interest in his own harem (which was still pretty small and shrinking when he decided to kick women out for fear they were part of the organization), and becomes nonexistent after his marriage to Shen Yuan. It’s not a problem though, because Tianlang-jun, Shen Yuan, and Shang Qinghua pull resources and knowledge to nullify Xin Mo’s effect on him, so his harem is obsolete anyway.

—Later, once things are settled, probably:

SQH: bro, wtf? You haremed my harem novel.

SY: 🤷

I just feel like Shen Yuan and Cid are so similar. They both curate their role in their new transmigration life, bullshit through so much by spouting wise nonsense, and making people fall for them left and right while being totally oblivious. Shen Yuan just gives Cid levels of oblivious vibes.

I’m not super feeling my svsss fics right now, so I don’t think I’m gonna write on them and just close the tabs for now. Idk. I’ll prbly come back to this later at some point, but 🤷‍♀️ Hoped you enjoyed this 😊

If anyone has any ideas for what to call sy's version of Shadow Garden, let me know. I was feeling stuck on that part, but like I said, I don't know when I'll come back to this.

[ashes-cinder]

The Demon's Crimson Heir

!!! DON'T STEAL !!!

I finished rewriting the first chapter of "The Demon's Crimson Heir" yesterday and posted the work on Archive of Our Own. It's created in a new series, since "Obsidian Empire" doesn't align with the story anymore. That reason will be shown soon in one of the works that I'll add soon. This alternative universe/timeline is where Tim is raised in the League of Assassins and never becomes the Robin and Red Robin as we know him today. I did a deep dive on how and why Ra's would be interested in Tim pre-Robin, and adding a few headcanons in the future soon. But if you want to know, this is how I see how and why Ra's would recruit Tim as his new targetted heir.

How Ra’s Could Notice Tim:

Tim Sticks Out in Gotham:

Tim’s habit of tailing Batman and the Bat-family catches Ra’s attention. It’s not every day a kid in Gotham manages to follow the world’s greatest detective without getting caught. That kind of resourcefulness isn’t something Ra’s would overlook.

He Stumbles Into League Business:

While following Batman, Tim might accidentally uncover one of the League of Assassins’ operations. Ra’s would definitely notice a sharp kid like Tim poking around where he shouldn’t.

Tim’s Smarts Shine Through:

Tim solves a big mystery, figuring out something about Batman, Ra’s would be intrigued (and yes, Ra's knows at this point). He respects brains, and Tim’s got plenty of that, even before becoming Robin.

Why Ra’s Would Be Interested:

Tim Reminds Him of Bruce:

Ra’s has a thing for people who are smart, determined, and capable—basically, people like Batman. Tim reminds him of Bruce in many ways, much more than his intellect, Ra’s would take an interest, no question.

Potential Future Asset:

Ra’s thinks, “Hey, this kid could be useful someday.” Whether as an ally, a pawn, or even a successor, Tim’s skills and connection to Batman make him worth keeping an eye on.

Tim’s Ambition Stands Out:

Ra’s respects people who rise above the ordinary, and Tim taking the initiative to follow and study Batman, all on his own, is exactly the kind of thing Ra’s admires.

What Ra’s Might Do About It:

Quietly Watches Tim:

Ra’s is the kind of guy who plays the long game. He observes Tim from the shadows, just to see how much potential he has.

Tests Him a Bit:

This is a spoiler, morely on how it goes down, so I'm not going into detail.

Basically, Ra’s would see Tim as a young version of Bruce—smart, determined, and full of potential. Even before Tim officially becomes Robin, Ra’s would probably keep tabs on him, thinking he might be important someday.

█▒▒▒▒▒█ ◈ 【☆】≛•★•≛【☆】 ◈ █▒▒▒▒▒█

Anyways, here are the tags of the fics.

Yes. We have baby Damian. Bamian. Also, I wanna write a Talon Dick Gray Son fic. Lemme know if you want to see how it'll go down.

[loracarol]

Went and saw Wicked pt 1 today and I just. Loved it so much.

(Somehow I managed to miss all the marketing / if there were any cast shenanigans, so this is SOLELY based on the movie itself and NOTHING else.) My thoughts, in no particular order (and with some spoilers ahead.)

My biggest fear was that the two leads would seem too old for the part, but they didn't.

I don't really listen to Ariana Grande that much? But her Glinda was PERFECT. She brought such lovely orange cat energy to the role; Glinda was so perfectly bitchy and stupid that it worked for me and I couldn't hate her, even when she was being The Worst (TM).

Also, both actresses have the "desperately trying not to cry" face down to perfection; Glinda in the opening song, trying to put on a brave face about "yes!! the witch is dead!!" but she looked like she was on the verge of tears the whole time? 10/10 no notes.

Whoever was in charge of doing the green skin did an excellent job. I don't know if it was CGI, practical, or a combo, but it looked really good IMO. They even gave her green freckles!!

THE DESERT FROM THE BOOKS.

BOQ IS FUCKING SPONGEBOB???

THE CHOREOGRAPHY. Parts of it were weird in a perfectly Ozian way! But others were gorgeous! Two scenes that got me were the ~Mysterious Stranger~ and Elphaba's mom and then Dancing Through Life esp. with the library. IYKYK.

Speaking of the library, I also liked the architecture.

It didn't feel too long to me? I was immersed the whole time, but that could just be me.

Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenowith have a cameo that is just beautiful.

There were several scenes that were shot where, if Elphie and Glinda kissed, I would have thought that was the natural progression of the scene BUT I also thought that Elphie had a spark with Fiyero which is good because 1. I'm an "Elphie has two hands" truther and 2. because if Elphie and Fiyero had no spark, that would be a problem in part 2. 🤣

(Like, they didn't fall in love which I wasn't expecting, but there was a spark. When they first meet, and she's going through her "yes, I know I'm green" checklist, "no, I didn't eat grass as a kid" is one of the things, and he's just like, "...I ate grass as a kid." Perfect. 10/10 no notes.)

I want to hold off my thoughts on Nessarose until part 2 and I see how they handle her, but there were several scenes were I thought, "you know, if she decided to go evil because people keep disrespecting her autonomy, I'd understand. I wish she'd focus on the people who were being disrespectful instead of being a despot, but like... I get it."

STOP GRABBING HER WHEELCHAIR.

I loved how they really put thought into how a goat would teach, with various foot pedals to operate his teaching equipment.

My Mom got actually sad about the lion cub. :(

Fiyero brought some "Chris Pines in Into the Woods" sluttiness. 10/10 no notes.

We need more Chris Pines in Into the Woods sluttiness.

The costuming in general made me Very Happy. I want the Shiz uniform, honestly.

Maybe I'll watch it again later and have Other Thoughts / more objective thoughts, but my first thought coming out of the theater was, "damn, this fucks."

I liked it a lot.

[one-chance-sevika]

Minors do not interact.

TW:blood,spit,biting,cigarette burn,abuse,restraining,bruises,oral s^x,explicit language

We built this tomb

A wave of cigarette smoke grazed your confused expression, it went about the edges of your open satin robe and glided on your exposed skin. The stream of thoughts that came upon you was so violent, it went against your core beliefs.

Sevika took another drag of her cigarette and looked at you from the corner of her eyes, she was making a genuine effort to decipher your expression, yet ultimately concluded that your unpredictable mood swings would always remain a mystery to her. She lunged forward and grabbed your arm.

"What could I possibly have done this time? You are so weak that it drives me insane" Sevika said as her lips curled into a snarling frown.

"How can you even ask me that?" You stood up, and as you did the material of your robe shifted and exposed your bare body embellished with bruises in different stages of healing.

"You are way too demanding, you know."Sevika spoke, displeased with your attitude.

You were drowning in the torment of Sevika's abuse, a relentless cycle that had twisted into a grotesque parody of routine. You could feel yourself unraveling, the edges of your identity fraying under the weight of her sadistic dominance. Many things kept you by her side from the fact that you knew she had a soft heart when you knew how to behave around her to the fact that she would protect you from everything and everyone if she needed to keep you safe.

The only thing that kept you remotely sane was the fact that you two built this tomb, and you will not be filling it alone. You always thought that you would never stray away from her, but your patience was starting to wear out.

Sevika finished her cigarette, and she was looking up at you with a nasty smirk on her face; you were still standing in front of her with your robe open. While you stood, she moved towards you on the floor, pushed your satin robe aside, and licked your leg with a smirk on her face.

You looked down at her, reached for your cigarettes, and lighted one up while you rolled your eyes when you saw her taking her mechanical arm off. You knew damn well what that meant. You agreed for her to take it off when she was planning something suggestive.

"Don't make things difficult, let me take charge and set things straight, the way it's meant to be."

With a smile, you looked at her and bent down, signaling for her to kiss you. You then gazed at her amputated arm before kissing her passionately and putting off your cigarette on the stump.

Sevika leaned into the kiss, her intensity growing with each passing moment. Her bites became so powerful that you felt the sharp sting of your lip splitting, a warm trickle of blood following soon after.

You commanded her to strip and pass you the cigarette that you put off on her from the floor. While you smoked, you watched her attentively with a stern expression. You despised her in this moment, but her body and essence still enticed you. You signaled her to get on her back, and you sat on top of her, straddling her hips while facing away. You wasted no time and began kissing up her thighs.

You were not surprised to see that your being a bitch to her did nothing but arouse her. You gave her what she didn't deserve:pleasure.

After some time put to good use, Sev was about to finish. You wanted her to remember this moment, so when you felt she was on the edge, you stuck your finger into her freshly burnt stump. Sevika's moans of pleasure and pain could be heard from a mile away.

A wave of anger hit Sevika and she tried to get you off of her. She didn't manage it, so she resorted to parting your thighs more with her strong, calloused hands and spitting on your hole. She watched the spit drip from your pussy and land on her abdomen.

"Told you, we built this tomb, and I will not be filling it alone."*I joke as I get off her and lick the spit off her abs*

[grimm-bot]

I don’t see the parallels between Mable and Ford and Dipper and Stan. Can you explain cause i’m really curious now.

ok ok ok so. im not gonna cite any specific sources sorry im too lazy to go back but i promise you ive watched the series too much for it to be healthy

mabel and ford are both very much similar people. they're both very artistically talented, mabel made a lifelike sculpture of stan so you cant deny this one - they also both have very similar personalities, they're extremely blunt when talking to others and outwardly weird and proud of it, they just express it in different ways. i mean how many times has mabel directly called out dipper for doing Stupid Shit in the same way Ford has to Stan ? like at least three times. at least thrice. and theres definitely a parallel between mabel embracing being a weird little girl and making sweaters every day, eating toothpaste and whatever the unicorn creature from DDAMD was - she could choose to act normal, but why in the world would she ever? and ford not having that choice, so he pursues research of the supernatural to try and find a place for himself amongst the strange and unusual. both are also called out on by society for being strange - mabel just stands up to her bullies a little better than ford does. its also important to note that neither of them socialize normally at ALL. its just that mabel is so confident in herself that when she goes up to you and says HI I'M MABEL MY EARRINGS ARE NACHOS WANNA BE FRIENDS? you're like hell yeah!!! they are!!! lets be friends!!! theyre both so trusting too which leads to them being directly screwed over by bill, it isnt their fault at all but he STILL DOES IT. plus they both briefly dated a supernatural fish creature, and had an absolutely TRAINWRECK of a relationship that altered how they'll approach their future ones - mabels was with gideon, and fords was with bill.

and hoooo their twin. stan directly sees some of his younger self in dipper, most notably in dreamscaperers, which is why he tries to toughen the kid up. the two of them also solve a lot of their problems with Punching. as soon as dipper loses access to the journal he starts swinging. bro jumped off a cliff to punch a massive robot in the eye and also swung at a massive triangle god. he was NOT hesitating he just started swinging, exactly what stan does!!! and its for their twin. soooo much of what the both of them do is in pursuit of the goal of keeping their twin safe or getting them to safety. dipper sticks up for mabel against Pacifica exactly how Stan did for his family in Gideon Rises. they're also VERY intelligent + resourceful, and can fly by the seat of their pants with random information, stan rebuilt the portal with about a third of the blueprints and with zero funding, and dipper is shown doing complex math in an instant and using what little info the journal has on various threats to thwart them - part of this is also social intelligence. mabel may be a social butterfly but dipper and stan know who to trust and when and navigate their relationships extremely carefully. theyre also hella good at convincing people to do what they want - dipper redeemed at least two people by just talking to them, the only difference between the skill they have with words is that stan uses his to convince people to keep coming back to the mystery shack so he can make money, and dipper uses his to get people to fight back against injustice. i also dont think i need to tell you how insecure the both of them are in their identities. thats not even getting into the themes of self sacrifice

sorry this was long but tl;dr: a cutiepie wearing sweaters with a book vital to the plot whose eccentricities define them, and a smart&sly guy who has a way with words, with a front meant to hide their insecurities. okay was i talking about mabel and dipper or ford and stan in that order

[dribs-and-drabbles]

Dead Friend Forever ep 5

In which I stop theorising and start wishing for a painful death for most of the characters.

This intro music slaps...in the sense of it perfectly prepares you for the mystery and suspense.

It's so funny how a different hair style can really change someone. It took a while to recognise Past!Fluke.

Also Past!Tee was a dick.

Barcode!! 😍

(Also, flashbacks to my own experience of being bullied in high school. Yep, all these lowlifes deserve everything that's coming to them.)

And that's why Future!Por and Future!Top were the first affected. Because they were the worst and loudest bullies.

Hmmm a red band on Non's wrist, and a red bag...something to keep note of?

I need to protect Non with all my being. And I want to punch Tee's moody face. And Top's smug face. Jin's ok, Jin can be redeemed. He can survive in the future, but not the others.

Oooo did Jin have feelings for Non?!

(Oh! Is that the same location as in My Ride?)

I wonder what all that medication is for...and why the subject of Non's brother hits a sore spot.

Why does it feel ominous that there's a La Madre poster in Non's room when his mother seems to be strict/overbearing?

OH. OHHHHH. TEE'S UNCLE.

Are they just stealing Non's script?! Oh. Oh no.

Ohhhh what was that detail on Por's shirt and then on the script? Was Por wearing Non's shirt? Oh, alright, it was Por's family name...

These boys are horrible.

Well, I feel sorry for Por's mum (and dad to some extent) ...she's going to have to mourn her son. But that's about it.

It's so obvious that Tee's going to get Non to open the fake account for his uncle. They need to just get on with it because it's frustrating me no end.

Of course Top's going to drop the camera and break it and then blame it on Non. I hate him and I hate this show for being this obvious. And I hate bullies.

So this is what 'they did to him'. Tee put the blame for the broken camera on to Non and basically ruined him and his family? I hate them. I hate them so much. They deserve everything they get. And I hope pure innocent White is actually the devil incarnate and will make Tee pay. Deeply.

I'm mad. This episode made me mad. I actually want to go back to the gore and horror just to see these boys get their comeuppance. But poor Non is a little on the precipice of unhinged and is also a little dumb. Come on! Don't think Tee can actually help you get free cash!! Ahhhhh.

[brucie-baby]

unnecessarily sad over the inherent tragedy of comic book characters like batman. he loves his city and he wants everybody to be safe and he hopes that one day gotham will no longer need batman but that will never happen because the story can't end. his city will never get its forever happy ending because that doesn't sell comics. quite literally doomed by the narrative because the story must go on. crazy. sucks for that guy.

[crispycreambacon]

Keep Yourself Safe!

Disclaimer: This poster is not sponsored by NordVPN. I hate sponsors.

[katabay]

this tweet & this scene from the mystery of the abyss movie