#and has earned that title since the beginning

[livinghalfway]

Look-alike

In recent years there is a charity look-alike competition based around the Wayne family, and at the end a big picture is taken with the family and the look-alikes standing next to each other. Now, the thing about this competition is that everyone jokes about it being a way for Bruce to scope out any black haired blue eyed children that he might want to adopt.

Danny entered as a joke, 100% not expecting for anything to come out of it. Sure he matched the signature look, but so did a hundred other people in Gotham. There was no reason for him to be picked out of everyone that applied. Of course that is what he thought before he was standing on stage next to his look-alike.

It gets even worse for Danny when everyone starts saying that he is the closest doppelganger they’ve ever seen, and questioning if the two are actually related to one another. These comments would be something he would just sweep under the rug, but now the whole Wayne family is looking at him with curious eyes.

[harrysfolklore]

So since the Oscars are happening next week I wanted to ask if you could please write something about charles leclerc and actress!reader where she's been nominated many many times before but never won (kind of like saoirse ronan) but this time she finally breaks the curse and win her first Oscar and Charles being just proud husband

u know you can always count on me for a charles x famous!reader fic and honestly i loved this one 🥺 i hope you like ittt

The Dolby Theatre buzzes with anticipation as you sit between Charles and your co-star. This scene is familiar - the sixth time you've been nominated, the same butterfly-inducing wait during the Best Actress category. Your first nomination came when you were just twenty-three, and now at thirty, you've earned the title of 'most nominated actress without a win.'

Charles has been there for four of those nominations, watching you smile gracefully through each loss. You remember how devastated he was last year - more than you, even - when you lost for what critics had called 'the performance of the decade.' He'd held you all night, whispering about how the Academy didn't deserve you anyway.

Tonight, though, feels different. Maybe it's the way Charles keeps pressing soft kisses to your temple, or how he hasn't stopped playing with your wedding ring - a nervous habit he picked up during particularly tense races.

"Mon coeur," he whispers as the Best Actor category wraps up, "no matter what happens, you're already the winner in my eyes. But tonight... tonight feels like magic, no?"

You're gripping Charles's hand so tightly you might be cutting off his circulation, but he doesn't seem to mind. Your heart is pounding as Emma Stone opens the envelope on stage, the same way it has during the previous ceremonies where you'd left empty-handed despite the nominations.

Charles leans closer, his lips brushing your ear. "I'm proud of you, no matter what happens," he whispers, his thumb stroking soothing circles on your hand.

"And the Academy Award for Best Actress in a Leading Role goes to..."

Charles's grip tightens imperceptibly. You feel him holding his breath alongside you.

"YN!"

For a moment, you're frozen. The applause sounds distant, like you're underwater. Then you feel Charles's hands on your face, see his beaming smile through your blur of tears.

"You did it, mon coeur!" he exclaims, his own eyes glistening as he pulls you into a kiss. "You finally did it!"

You're trembling as you stand, Charles helping you up. He's looking at you the way he does after winning a race - no, even more intensely than that. Like you've just won every championship in existence.

The walk to the stage feels surreal. You can hear the announcement echoing: "This is YN's sixth nomination and first win..." Through your tears, you see the standing ovation, catch glimpses of familiar faces who've been on this journey with you.

Your hands shake as you accept the Oscar, its weight both foreign and familiar after years of dreaming about this moment. You take a deep breath, looking out at the sea of faces until you find those green eyes that have been your anchor through every high and low.

"Wow," you begin, your voice trembling. "They say sixth time's the charm, right?" The audience laughs warmly. "I've had this speech written in my head since I was a little girl playing pretend with my mom's hairbrush, but now that I'm here, those words don't seem enough."

You pause, gathering yourself. "To the Academy - thank you for not giving up on me. To my incredible director who trusted me with this role that scared me as much as it thrilled me. To my amazing co-stars who pushed me to dig deeper, be braver."

Your eyes find Charles again, who's watching you with such pure adoration it makes your heart swell. "To my husband, who has sat through more award shows than F1 races this year so far, who runs lines with me even though he says my accent is better than his, who believes in me more than I believe in myself - ti amu. You've watched me practice acceptance speeches in our kitchen, held me through the disappointments, and somehow made me feel like a winner every single time. You told me once that in racing, it's not about how many times you don't make the podium, it's about never stopping until you do. Well, my love, we finally made it to the top step."

You can see Charles openly crying now, nodding proudly through his tears. "To my parents who let their little girl dream big, to my team who've been with me through every 'maybe next year,' to every young actor who's been told 'not yet' - keep going. Your time will come."

Looking down at the golden statue in your hands, you smile through your tears. "And finally, to every person who's ever felt like they're always the runner-up, who's heard 'better luck next time' so many times they've lost count - this is for you. Because sometimes the longest waitings lead to the sweetest victories. Thank you, thank you so much."

Later, at the Vanity Fair after-party, Charles hasn't let go of your Oscar once. He's been carrying it around, showing it off more proudly than any of his race trophies.

"My wife," he keeps saying to everyone who'll listen, his accent thick with emotion, "she's brilliant, no? I told everyone she would win. I knew it."

"Charles," you laugh, watching him polish the statue with his pocket square for the third time. "You're going to wear it out."

"Non, I'm protecting it. It's very precious." He looks at you with those soft green eyes. "Like you."

You lean into his side, feeling the familiar warmth of his arm around your waist. "You know what this means, right? Now we both have something gold to polish obsessively."

He chuckles, finally setting the Oscar down to pull you closer. "Oui, but unlike my trophies, this one was a long time coming." His expression softens. "You deserved this years ago, mon coeur."

"Well," you say, straightening his bowtie, "someone once told me that the sweetest victories are the ones you have to fight for."

"Sounds like a wise man," he grins.

"He's alright," you tease. "Bit of a show-off though. Keeps trying to steal my Oscar's spotlight."

Charles laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Never. Tonight is all yours, my love. Though..." he adds with a mischievous glint in his eye, "I might need to win another race soon. Can't have you being the only champion in the household."

You reach up to wipe a smudge of your lipstick from his cheek. "Race you to the next gold trophy?"

"Deal," he says softly, pulling you into a proper kiss. "But you've already won the most important race."

"Oh? Which one is that?"

His smile is tender as he touches his forehead to yours. "The race to my heart."

"That was terrible," you laugh, but you're already pulling him closer.

"Terrible but true," he murmurs against your lips. "Now, shall we go home? I need to practice my 'proud husband watching his wife's Oscar-winning performance' face for when we rewatch your movie for the hundredth time."

"You love that movie."

"I love you," he corrects.

And as you watch him carefully wrap your award in his suit jacket for the journey home, you think that maybe this victory is sweeter than you imagined - not because of the golden statue, but because of the golden heart beside you who never stopped believing it would happen.

[cherry-coffees]

Love, Sweat, and Queers

gym!Caitlyn x pilates princess!reader

cw: 2.6K words | gym AU, meant to be s2 act 2 Caitlyn, hints of sun x moon dynamic, reader is a cute pilates princess, she also works there, Caitlyn does NOT want to be there, then she meets you and it's allll better, Caitlyn/Jayce sibling dynamic, mutual pining, confessions, title is like blood/sweat/tears but WLW VER.

"You can't be serious, Jayce." Caitlyn scoffs at him.

She strides into the gym as if she's annoyed to be in the presence of sweaty strangers and loud machines. Which she is. She has no issue with public gyms, but she just can't understand why she would go to one when she has all the exercise equipment she could ever ask for at the Kiramman manor.

"Oh, relax," Jayce rolls his eyes in response. "I didn't want to go alone. Besides, you need to get out of that house every so often."

"What?" Caitlyn huffs, her posh accent prominent in her indignation. "I get out quite enough, thank you."

Jayce has a point, though, and she knows it. She's been locked up in her office ever since her mother's death — ever since Ambessa had come into the picture. She needs to get out of her office, even if it's to a gym that she has no reason to go to. Now, having broken up with Maddie a few weeks ago, she also needs to be surrounded by people other than the Noxian warlord on her shoulder.

"Cait," Jayce sighs, swinging the main door open and gesturing for her to walk through first. "Just trust me, okay?" And with that, he enters behind her and makes his way up to the front desk.

The front desk where you are sitting.

"Hi," you smile, all bright eyes and cheerful tone. "Go ahead and swipe your membership card on the scanner in front of you."

Jayce swipes his card, returning your smile. "I have a guest with me, today."

"Okay," you nod, typing something into the computer that sits on the desk in front of you. "How many?"

"Just one."

"Perfect," you hum, grabbing the receipt as it prints out and sliding it across the desk along with a pen. "We do have a small fee for each member that brings a guest, so if you'll just sign here. Is she a first time guest?"

Jayce taps Caitlyn's shoulder, motioning her forward from where she had been looking around the building. "Yes, she is."

"Oh, hi," you beam another smile as her eyes lock onto yours for the first time. "I'll just need you to fill out a form so we can make sure we have your information."

"Ah—" Caitlyn's breath catches in her throat. The way you're beaming up at her, so sweetly that it's almost innocent, steals the words from her lips. You're really cute, she notices. "Okay, sure."

You reach under the desk to grab a form before handing it to her over the desk. "Just fill this out and then you're all good to use the gym."

Caitlyn merely nods, forcing herself to not glance back up at you as she answers the questions on the paper. She's done in a minute or two, sliding the form back to you, earning yet another smile. "Perfect, you're all set," you tuck the form into one of the drawers in a cabinet under the desk.

"Thank you—" Caitlyn trails off, lacking your name.

"Of course!" You glance between her and Jayce. "Let me know if you have any questions."

"Yeah," Caitlyn responds, almost dazed as she follow Jayce away from the desk and fully into the gym. The moment Jayce heads off for the leg extension curl up machine, she's right beside him. "Who is that?" she whisper-shouts: enough to be audible in the loud building without being overheard.

"Her?" Jayce sets his water bottle down, stating your name like it's obvious. "She works at the front desk a few nights a week. Don't think she lifts much, but I've seen her doing pilates sometimes."

"Is that so?" Caitlyn murmurs to herself, casting a sidelong glance back at you. She doesn't notice Jayce as he begins to work out, too preoccupied with thoughts of meeting you again. Preferably when you're not checking her into a gym she doesn't want to be at.

Well. She didn't want to be at. That's quickly changing — whether she wants to admit it or not.

|------» ~~~ «------|

Caitlyn's back at gym the next day.

This time, she's here alone. She strolls in through the main doors with an almost aloof expression: her face betraying none of her nerves. She's all dressed in her expensive navy leggings with a loose, white tank top clinging to her tall stature. She heads straight for the front desk, her eyes locked on you.

You glance up from your phone as she approaches. "Oh, hi! Are you here with Jayce again?"

"Actually, I'm here alone," Caitlyn's icy-blue stare doesn't waver. "I was hoping to get a membership?"

"Oh!" Your smile feels like beams of warmth, like if the sun itself decided to smile upon Caitlyn. "Sure, I can help you with that! Do you know which plan you'd like? They have different perks, but they also cost differently, and—"

Caitlyn doesn't really hear what you say, too focused on the slight movement of your hair and the change in your expression as you talk. She blinks back into reality when you tilt your head questioningly, as if expecting an answer. "Um," she mumbles. "I'll do the top one."

"Okay," you type something into her computer, and Caitlyn tracks the movement of your fingers tapping across the keys. As the Kiramman heir, she's beyond rich, but she's also classy with it. She wasn't going to spend her money on something she'd never use.

A membership at the gym her now-crush works at, though? She can make an exception.

"Okay, now just a few questions," you click something, then shift your gaze back to her.

When Caitlyn nods, you resume. "Well, I would ask your name, but—" you cut yourself off, cheeks tinging a rosy pink.

"Oh," Caitlyn blinks, suddenly remembering that everyone in Piltover knows her name. Especially now, with her being a commander: earning the legacy passed on to her by the recently deceased Cassandra Kiramman. She takes in your blush with a hint of hope, though she remains her usual composed self. "Yes. Are there any others?"

You rattle off a few more of the usual questions before you motion for her to swipe her card. She does without a second thought, and you can't help but briefly wonder what someone of her status is doing at a public gym in the middle of Piltover. Surely someone of a commander status — especially with her wealth — has more than enough for their own private training areas. Why is she here?

"Thanks," Caitlyn flashes you a smile of her own, and you're a little embarrassed to register how it makes your heart flip. She must give it to all the Piltover citizens, you remind yourself. It's practiced for the public.

"Of course," you maintain your cheerful demeanor. That marks the end of this conversation, or so you think.

Instead, Caitlyn lingers, taking more time in front of the desk than she needs. "So, what do you like to do here?

You look up at her again, surprised that she hasn't disappeared into the depths of the gym yet. "How do I...work out?"

"Um, yeah," she mumbles, scratching at the tiled floor with the tip of her shoe. "It's only my second time here, so I'm looking for recommendations, you know?"

"Right," you consider. "I usually stick to pilates. I know it's a little cliché since it's super popular, but I really like it."

"I don't think it's cliché," Caitlyn's quick to reassure you. Gods, the last thing she needs is you thinking you can't share your hobbies with her. "Maybe I'll try it sometime."

You think for a moment, as if mentally going through your schedule in your head. "I usually do it on Mondays and Thursdays, so I don't know about the other days, but there's usually not as many people wanting to do it those evenings."

Aha.

You just explained what Caityn had wanted to know since she stepped foot in the gym and saw you. Monday and Thursday evenings. Not as specific as she'd have liked, but still far more information than she ever expected to get. She would just have to be sure she caught you at the right time.

|------» ~~~ «------|

For the next week, you catch sight of Caitlyn coming into the gym nearly every day you're working. She's always dressed in expensive workout clothes with what you're sure is the finest quality fabric, casually gracing your presence at the front desk before heading off to work out. Her tops always exposed her toned arms, and they occasionally lifted from her stomach to showcase her abs, and gods, is the universe trying to kill you by giving you the hottest women to ogle at while you're supposed to be working?

It doesn't take long, though, for you to run into her in a far more casual setting.

You're in one of the gym's studios — off of work today. You lay back on the mats, stretching out your right leg for one of your stretches to cool down from your pilates workout. You roll over to do your next exercise, pushing yourself off the mat, facing the mirror in a side plank. Your gaze is downcast in concentration, so don't notice the hint of navy hair that flashes in the doorway before a familiar face appears.

Caitlyn watches you exercise from just outside the studio door. Her mouth goes dry at the sight of your legs and backside in your leggings. You're wearing a cute, blush pink workout set that hugs all your curves in just the right ways, much to her appreciation. You're a cute little pilates princess, and she loves it.

And oh, how she'd love to run her hands over your body and—

After a minute passes, you lower yourself back onto the mat, happening to glance up at the mirror and catch sight of Caitlyn's reflection. "Hey, Caitlyn," you smile at her in the mirror. "Did you want to use the studio?"

"Oh, no," Caitlyn rushes her words, stepping into the space before letting the door close. "Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I was—" she fumbles for a moment before regaining her usual composure. "Would you mind teaching me some stretches? I feel like I need more before I work out."

"Sure," you blink, a little surprised that the Caitlyn Kiramman is not only regularly visiting the gym you work at, but now also asking you for help. "I was just finishing up, anyways."

You sit up straight, crossing your legs on the mat in front of you and turning your back to the side as far as your flexibility will allow you. Caitlyn sets her bag down and joins you on the mat, mirroring your actions. "I like this one for stretching my back, but I also like to do lunges for my legs," you continue to explain.

Caitlyn, meanwhile, continues to hyper fixate on how kind you are to help her with whatever she needs — even when you're not working. She notices how your eyes narrow when you're focused, how you carefully position yourself for the next exercise, how pretty your cheeks look when they're a little flushed.

The next few minutes go by with Caitlyn quickly picking up every stretch you teach her. It's not surprising: she's toned and athletic both from her years of sharpshooting and the training she does now as a commander. She completes the stretches with ease, her body moving languidly like a cat's. And, in return, you can't help but notice how good she looks like this, too.

When you call it, standing to clean the mat with a wipe and roll it back up, Caitlyn stands right along with you. Her dark eyebrows furrow, trying to figure out how she can make this moment with you last even longer. As you bend to pick up your bag and water bottle, you feel a hand on your shoulder.

You turn, eyes widened, to see Caitlyn shifting on her feet. "Hey," she murmurs. "I know we haven't known each other long, but I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner? If you haven't already eaten, that is."

"You—" You freeze, unsure if this is some kind of joke or misunderstanding. "You want to have dinner with me?"

"Yes, with you," Caitlyn smiles down at you. She's much warmer under that professional, stoic demeanor she always puts up. "I've grown quite fond of you."

"Thank you," you mumble, your eyes darting between hers and your shoes as an act of sudden shyness. "Yeah, dinner sounds nice."

"Take it as my way of asking you out," Caitlyn's long fingers brush yours. You wish she'd hurry up already and just hold your hand, but she's taking her time — that much is clear. Respectful: yet another thing you like about her.

You fluster even more at her comment, almost disbelieving. "Asking me out?"

"Yes," Caitlyn tilts her head, icy eyes imploring yours in curiosity. "You haven't figured that out? I feared I was being too obvious about my infatuation."

This draws a quiet laugh from you, amusement spilling from your lips. Only Caitlyn Kiramman could manage to sound so properly formal and also be so endearingly unsure at the same time. "Well, I was probably too worried about my feelings to notice yours."

Caitlyn blinks once. Then twice. "You like me too?"

There's a moment of quiet after that, both of you just staring at each other in realization. Then, another giggle spills from your lips at the absurdity of it all, and Caitlyn's joining you in her own laughter within moments. "We might be a little dense," you smile, biting your bottom lip in thought.

Caitlyn's gaze traces the movement of your lip between your teeth, wishing she could remove your bite and replace it with hers instead. "Ah, well," she returns your sheepish smile, a hand coming up to tuck strands of navy hair behind her ear. "If being dense got me here, I'll gladly admit to it."

"Me too." You're the one that reaches out this time, taking her hand to lace her fingers with yours. "So, dinner?"

"And maybe dessert," Caitlyn mumbles under her breath as she lets you tug her out of the studio hand-in-hand. She just can't help her intrusive thoughts, sometimes.

But if her intrusive thoughts had landed her a date with you, she'd gladly admit to that, too.

|------» ~~~ «------|

A week later, when you're spawled out in her silk sheets with pink cheeks and heavy breaths, Caitlyn curls up beside you. Your legs tangle together, and it's a moment of pure bliss after your previously heated moments.

You're just about to drift off into a deep sleep when Caitlyn buries her face in your hair. "So, now that I won you over," she mumbles. "Can you cancel my gym membership?"

"Wha—?" You reel from the sudden request, incredulous how she could talk about such casual things when she had just given you the time of your life. "Your membership?"

"Yes," Caitlyn huffs, and you can feel the puff of breath against your scalp. "I know it's not a big deal, but I hate spending money on things I'll never use, and I only bought it so I could come back and see you, and—"

You lean your head up, pressing your lips to hers in a gentle kiss. When she's sighing against your lips, you pull back to tuck your head back under her chin. "Yes. Now shut up. You're ruining the moment."

The corners of her mouth tug up into a smile. "You just can't admit that you went from a pilates princess to my princess."

"Caitlyn—"

"Right," Caitlyn allows her lips to press against your forehead before her eyes slip shut. "Goodnight, my princess."

Spent ten minutes trying to come up with a title before my women-loving instincts took over. Blood, sweat, and tears MORE LIKE LOVE, SWEAT, AND QUEERS >:)

...im just proud of it okay? :(

ANYWAYS! Just posted my masterlist! This request got me out of writer's block SO hope you lovelies enjoyed!

~Cherry 🍒

[joocomics]

boyfriend

pairing: bf!hueningkai x fem!reader

genre: smut ( 18+ ) ── 1.4k words

✎… established relationship, soft!dom!reader, dry humping, unprotected sex, filming, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, overstimulation (m!rec)

( txt masterlist )

“more?” kai’s lips form a soft grin while he continues to observe you from below as you sit still on his lap.

“more,” you agree, an affectionate smile forming on your own mouth too. “there’s always room for more pictures of my cute boyfriend.”

kai’s cheeks turn warmer from your words or more specifically from the new title he’s earned himself recently - your boyfriend. the ring of it always calls for butterflies in his stomach, because it sounds so special when you say it. yeah, he feels good when he gets to introduce himself as your boyfriend, but it cannot compare to the satisfaction he gets when you do it, and how the whole air in the room shifts from the confidence you speak out the words with. this is my boyfriend… it’s huening kai, my boyfriend…

he looks up at your face again and lets you snap few more pictures without even trying to focus on the camera, to pose or anything like that. he’s smiling lazily, but he hasn’t stopped doing that since the moment you came over. his cheeks might start hurting soon.

you drop your cellphone next to you on the bed after capturing his tender gaze which still has sleepiness in it from the afternoon nap - it’s only making him look more charming, you notice, - his messy bangs that are peeking from his black hoodie, the soft plushie resting on his chest that’s moving up and down steadily with each calm breath he takes.

you cannot resist the tempting look of his lips for long, nor the way he looks at you as if he’s going through your mind.

kai sighs blissfully as you slowly pull away from the gentle kiss, but not too far, because his one hand goes at the back of your neck and pulls you back in. carefully, but with enough persistence which only causes the next kiss to get more intense in no time.

your tongues eventually meet, wet and warm, they glide against each other, making you moan softly just when kai allows his hand to slide down your back. he gets a hold of your hips as you push the plush toy away and unzip his hoodie in need to feel him closer. you both do all of these little things in order to get more from each other without actually having to separate your lips or bodies too much, because the idea sounds unbearable.

“kai—“ you mumble into his mouth, feeling your face, neck and back turning hot as he begins to grind you down on him… as if you’re actually fucking; with a firm grip that turns even tighter every time his lower body jumps up slightly against you for even better friction.

“mmm…” kai squeezes his eyes as this would help him comprehend better whatever you’re about to say. his brows knit together from the nice rush that keeps coming every time you press against him and glide up along his erection which is peeking vividly through his pair of sweatpants.

“this…” he finally speaks before you manage to gather your thoughts, “feels good…”

the last word shakes a little turning his voice more into a whine.

“i was about to say the same.” you reply, tracing the side of his face with your lips; kissing his sharp jawline, then even lower where the skin of his neck is warm and sensitive, sending arousing thrills through his body every time the tip of your tongue touches it.

you feel him growing harder, meanwhile kai feels himself throbbing and leaking inside his underwear. the hot wave washes all over him with each move of your hips that eventually quicken their speed.

you need him - all of him. now. and you want to break the kiss to tell him that, but you can’t seem to force any of this to stop even for a second. having sex with him was all that’s been on your mind this morning while waiting for the hours to pass so you can come over at his place. you haven’t been intimate a lot, because your relationship is still fresh and new, and it all feels so ecstatic, so exciting. every time you do it it only feels better than the last, and you wonder how it would feel now.

however, you just keep grinding on his hard erection, enjoying the delicious sounds slipping from his puffy lips that are glistening with your saliva.

huening kai feels his skin sweating underneath his clothes as the overwhelming pressure in his core starts to feel like it’s about to burst. his moans multiple so much to the point you can’t make out properly anymore. he stays with his mouth open, growing weaker from your hot breathing fanning his face, and occasionally attempts to press his lips to answer your kisses, but he fails. his whimpers elevate in the room as his hands almost take complete control of your lower half, guiding you back and forth until the ecstatic climax hits him.

the sound he makes as he spills into his underwear is the most satisfying sound you’ve ever heard in your life. you pepper his face with praising kisses while he tries to compose himself with empty mind and face contorted from an expression that makes him seem high and so unbelievably attractive.

with hazed eyes, kai follows your next movements - how you remove his stained sweatpants then afterwards his boxers. a wave of shame washes over him like a bucket of cold water at the sight of his own mess, but the emotion quickly fades away once you run your flat pink tongue along his hard cock. you successfully maintain the eye contact while gathering all of the essence that’s sticking on his swollen tip causing him to twitch. you kiss it softly a few times before getting rid of your own pants so you can move your panties to the side and welcome it inside you.

“fuck, y/n—“ kai whimpers, pressing his head back into the mattress. the squeezing, the wet arousal, the suffocating feeling of your walls… the sensation is always so strong and pleasant.

the first few seconds are always challenging because of huening’s size. you still haven’t gotten used to being with someone this big and it takes you some time to adjust. despite the fact you had sex the other day, because it’s all you want to do, the feeling of it still surprises you like it’s the very first time.

your whimpers beautifully blend with his as you begin to move up and down more freely.

“y/n—“ his hands glide along your thighs before grabbing your waist. “a-ah, keep going—“

your skin slaps against his every time you land on his lap, hitting your sweet spot with the head of his cock that feels so hard between your clenching walls.

kai shuts his eyes while biting his lip in order to contain at least some part of his desperate mewls… and he looks so handsome while doing so, your hand acts on his own when you pick up your phone to record just a few seconds of it.

“my charming boyfriend,” you coo at him, placing a palm on his cheek. “you look so hot, baby.”

kai’s mouth opens in awe as you make one really slow move with your hips, rubbing your clit against him nicely. when he blinks up at you and sees your phone again he smiles shyly. a light chuckle escapes his lips before he kisses the inside of your palm.

“you’re so good to me,” he utters almost in a whisper before making another weak noise of pleasure.

after the video caught the red hues that are painting his neck, you tilt kai’s head in your direction by grabbing his chin, and caress his lips with your thumb. they’re more red than usual, slightly swollen from the long kissing; begging to be devoured again.

“am i taking you well, baby?”

your hips keep up the nice steady pace as you drip down his cock. the camera catches your small heavy breaths while the footage of kai’s teeth grazing your two fingers continues.

“i think i am,” you mewl through a cheeky tone, “i want my handsome boyfriend to feel amazing inside me.”

you push your fingers a little bit further on his tongue and you can see on your phone screen that he likes that even more. his hands crawl up beneath your top as his lewd moans wrap around your knuckles. his heavy eyes open for a moment to look at the camera with lust and haziness before they flutter shut again.

you end the video and toss your phone away. you’ll have plenty of time to film your boyfriend. now, you want to make him cum again.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! keep in mind english is not my first language, i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[fantasydreamland]

Betrothed

cragen stark x fem tully reader x aemond targaryen

Summary: You have been betrothed to Cragen Stark since you were children and grew up in the North preparing for the day you would become the lady of the Winterfell. Your entire world changes when your parents decide to wed you to the cold prince Aemond Targaryen instead. When the war begins everything changes once again and you eventually find your rightful place.

Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! Smut, angsty af, fluff, p in v, loss of virginity, dragon ride, some spoilers.

Word count: 5.6k

x thank you so much for this request x

PART TWO

masterlist

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You have been betrothed to Cragen Stark since you were children and grew up in the North preparing for the day you would become the lady of the Winterfell. Your parents visited often but remained occupied in the Riverlands.

Along the way, you and Cregan fell in love though neither of you would speak of it. Although you were to be wed, you were both shy about your feelings towards each other.

One day your mother and father return to Winterfell to visit and you greet them excitedly.

“There is a reason to our visit.” Your father says sternly as you hug your mother.

Your smile fades and they lead you to private room to speak. Your father explains that there was an offer from King Viserys to wed you to Prince Aemond Targaryen.

“What?!” You yell. “Absolutely not. Tell them no. I am to marry Cregan soon. That has always been the plan.”

“We have already agreed.” Your father states.

“You cannot marry me to that cold evil prince!” You raise your voice again in panic.

“Prince Aemond is an excellent match, my dear.” Your mother says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“But I am to be lady of Winterfell! That is what I have been preparing for my entire life!”

“Well, now you will be a princess of the realm.” Your mother says.

“I do not care to be a princess!” Tears begin to fill your eyes. “What about Cregan? We have been betrothed our entire lives. He is the sweetest man I have ever known and now you are going to ship me away from him… away from you.”

“We would join you if we could, my dear.” Your mother says softly.

“But as you know we have a duty to the Riverlands. We cannot always choose our duties in life.”

“But father please-“

“There is no negotiating.” Your father speaks over you. “We have already promised the king. You should be grateful to earn such a title.”

“…When?” Was the only word you could choke out through your increasing tears.

“We will escort you there tomorrow.” Your father says.

“Tomorrow?!” You cry. “That is hardly any time at all!”

“Your mother and I need to return to Riverrun, we have no time to delay. I suggest you begin packing.” Without another word, your father storms out of the room.

“I’m sorry dear…” Your mother whispers to you as she follows behind him.

You collapse to the floor in tears. It feels like your entire world just went up in flames. You did not want to live in Kings Landing, you wanted to stay right here in the snowy North you had grown to love. You did not want to marry the prince, you wanted to marry Cregan who you had also grown to love.

‘Oh Cregan…’ You think. Breaking this news to him would be heartbreaking.

You pick yourself up off the floor and take deep breaths to steady your still shaky breathing. Once you have composed yourself you rush to find Cregan.

Cregan was standing alone in the Godswood looking to the tree before he turns and spots you approaching with a red nose and puffy eyes.

“What is wrong (y/n)?” He asks concerned.

You throw your arms around him and begin to sob again. He hugs you tightly as your tears dampen his fur cloak.

“Shh, it’s ok.” He pets your hair, causing you to cry harder, his tenderness being a reminder of what you would lose soon. “Tell me what is going on.”

“I h-have t-to leave.” You choke out before you begin crying again.

“What do you mean you have to leave?” Cregan pulls back to cup your cheek and look into your eyes.

“My father- he…” You can barely get words out between sobs.

“Take a deep breath darling. You’re ok.”

You do as he says and take a deep shaky breath before continuing.

“He is marrying me to prince Aemond. We leave tomorrow.”

You bury your face back into his furs as you cry harder. He hugs you tighter than he ever has and for a moment does not say a word. The shock of everything fogging his thoughts.

“Please say something…” you whisper.

“How is this possible?” He finally speaks.

“I do not know…” You sniffle as you lift your head. “But my father said it is already decided.”

“But…” He cups both your cheeks in his hands and looks into your eyes with intensity you have never seen from him. “I can not lose you… I- I love you.”

“Cregan…”

Before you can respond he crashes his lips against yours. You kiss him back with all your passion. The kiss is filled with so many unspoken feelings between you. You had dreamt about kissing him many times before but never in sad circumstances like this. You continue to kiss each other like it is your last day in this world. Which for you, it would be your last day in his world. Your lips finally part and you can see tears in Cregans eyes.

“I am so sorry, my love…” You whisper.

Cregan kisses your forehead and takes your hands before placing a kiss on each of them.

“He better treat you how you deserve. Because… you deserve the world (y/n).” Cregan chokes back tears as he speaks.

“You are my world…” You whisper, looking deep into his grey eyes.

“And you are mine…” He whispers back before pressing his forehead to yours and sighing.

You could not bear another minute of this heart shattering goodbye so you excuse yourself to pack for the trip. Tears stream down your face as you organize your belongings. Sitting on your dresser was a beautiful wooden horse your father gave you the day you arrived at Winterfell.

You run your fingers along it, remembering your excitement when you saw snow for the very first time. Your father had said it was to remember that although they were in Riverun they would always be by your side to support you in the North. You scoff at the thought of your father’s words and chuck the wooden horse into the fire.

You did not leave your room the rest of the day as you finished packing. You had no appetite at all and could not bear to see Cregan or anyone else for that matter. After sobbing in bed for most of the night, sleep finally pulls you under.

**********

The next morning your things are being loaded onto the carriage. The snow fell gently, snowflakes landing and melting in your red hair, for the last time. You spot Cregan coming to wish you farewell. You run over to him and he wraps you in a tight hug. You both remain there for a long moment, not wanting to let go. He knew once he let you out of his arms you would be gone for good.

“I do not wish to speak the words since I am leaving… but you know my feelings for you.” You sniffle against his shoulder.

“I know…” He says as you finally part. “Me too.”

Cregan held back the tears in his eyes while yours streamed freely down your face. He holds your hands in his and places a final kiss to your forehead.

“Farewell, (y/n).” He says quietly. “I wish you good luck.”

“Farewell, Cregan.” You sniffle, barely holding back from bursting into tears again.

As your hands slowly part you could literally feel him slip away from you. You rushed into the carriage, choking back sobs. As the carriage takes off you stare through the window having one last glance at Cregan, one last moment admiring the beautiful white snow, one last moment in Winterfell. You watch as everything you have grown to love fades into the distance.

The ride is long, and silent, your parents barely speak a word and you were constantly focused on keeping yourself from crying. When you reached a far enough distance the air becomes warmer, forcing you to finally take off your favourite furs made for a lady of the North. After an agonizing few weeks of travel you finally reach Kings Landing.

**********

You follow behind your parents as a guard leads you to the throne room where the king and his family await.

“Lord and Lady Tully.” The guard announces your arrival. “And their daughter, (y/n) Tully.”

You greet the king as he welcomes you and your family. Your eyes meet Aemonds as he stares you down, his face cold and unreadable. He was even more handsome than you could have imagined. You break the eye contact with the one-eyed prince and look down nervously.

The guard escorts you to your new chambers and leads your parents off to their guest room for the night. You did not want to see or speak to them ever again. When the guard returns to escort you to dinner you refuse despite his insistence. You knew it would be taken as an insult to the king but you did not care. You hoped it may even encourage him to deem you unworthy of the prince and send you back home.

Not long after someone bangs at your door, startling you. You approach the door and cautiously open it to see Aemond holding a plate of food.

“It is a great insult to refuse the kings welcome feast.” He says as he pushes past you and lets himself in.

You scoff as he places the food on the small table in your room.

“Forgive me for insulting the king, my prince. I did not have much of an appetite.” You say firmly. “And frankly, I do not care to see my parents again before they abandon me here.”

“You need to eat.” He says in a stern tone.

“What I need is to go home.” You snap back.

“This is your home now.” He states, unphased by your attitude.

You simply huff and cross your arms.

“You need to eat.” He repeats. “I know that you must be hungry by now.”

“I’m fine.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs before heading toward the door. “Goodnight, Lady (y/n).”

He bows slightly before closing the door behind him. You stand there with your arms still crossed before your stomach starts to grumble. You sigh as you sit down and tuck into your food, silently grateful he brought it to you.

You change out of your dress before curling up into the large canopy bed with red and golden curtains. You felt like a trapped bird in a royal golden cage. Your thoughts swirl around in your mind like a tornado. Your entire world has been flipped upside down in the matter of weeks. Everything you had envisioned for your life has just gone up into flames. Now you were stuck here with these strangers, forced to marry a man you did not know or want. You sob into your pillow until exhaustion finally drags you into a restless slumber.

**********

The next morning you sleep in and take your time dressing. You had no intention on intending breakfast either and having to see your parents before they depart. Once you’re dressed you sit at the vanity and brush your hair in the mirror. Suddenly, there is a loud knock on the door.

“Come in.” You call, placing your brush down.

The door opens and Aemond appears with a plate of breakfast food. He walks over and places it on the same table as before.

“I assumed you would not be at breakfast with your parents in attendance.” He says flatly. “But you should eat.”

He says nothing else as he turns to leave.

“Thank you.” You say as he goes to close the door.

“Mhm.” He nods, turning his head to look at you before exiting and shutting the door behind him.

You sit down to the plate full of a variety of foods from the breakfast table. His caring gesture felt so confusing when he acts so cold towards you.

**********

You finish doing your hair before looking through the small bookshelf in the corner of your room. Most books seemed to be about boring histories until you find a book about dragons. You pull it from the shelf and spend the rest of your day reading through it. You had never even seen a dragon but now you were about to marry someone who has the biggest one in the world.

That evening you plucked up the courage to attend dinner. You would at least not have to see your family anymore but you worried for how the this family would treat you, especially with how you had isolated yourself away from them.

The guard leads you to the dining hall where the royal family were seated for dinner. You were surprised by the warm welcome as the king offers you a seat. You did not say much as you ate looking down at your plate. The light conversation was mainly between the king and queen. Aemond sat across from you and kept his eye on you the entire time.

When supper was finished Aemond offers to escort you back to your chambers. You say goodnight to everyone before taking his arm. The air was tense as you walked down the halls in silence.

“I would like to take you on a walk through the gardens tomorrow.” Aemond says once you reach your chamber, the offer catching you off guard.

“I… um, I’m not sure.” You respond looking down.

Aemond lightly lifts your chin with his finger, making your eyes meet his. The contact made your heart race before he casually drops his hand back down.

“You must be bored remaining alone in your bedroom.” He questions.

“No.” You scoff. “There are plenty of books to keep me occupied.”

“What are you reading?” He raises a brow.

“Why do you care?” You glare at him.

He simply shrugs and slightly smirks at your attitude.

“I am not sure the title… it’s just a book about dragons. I thought it sounded interesting.” You shrug.

“Have you ever seen a dragon?” His smirk grows.

“No…”

“Would you like to?”

“I am stuck here in Kings Landing for the rest of my life… I am sure I will see one sometime.” You cross your arms.

“I have a better idea than a walk in the gardens. I will meet you here midday tomorrow.”

“But-“ You begin.

“Goodnight, Lady (y/n).” He says over you as he bows and leaves you.

“Goodnight, Prince Aemond.” You say under your breath once he’s out of ear shot.

**********

The next morning you attend a quiet breakfast. You pretend not to notice Aemond observing you the entire time. Midday you are reading in your chambers when there is a knock at the door. You answer the door to Aemond, as expected.

“Ready?” He asks.

“For what? You never told me where we are going.”

He lightly chuckles, the first time you have heard him laugh, and offers his arm. Without further questions you take his arm as he leads you through the castle.

You follow him into the dragon pit. You stop in your tracks when a gigantic dragon comes into your sight.

“There is no need to be afraid. She will not harm you unless I command it.” Aemond reassures you.

“And what if you did command it?” You question.

“Then you would be a pile of ash.” He smirks. “Lucky for you, I would not want to destroy such beauty.”

You blush at his response. He was acting so differently than the coldness you expected.

“Here.” He offers his hand to you.

You place your hand in his and feel instant sparks as he looks into your eyes, clearly feeling it too. He clears his throat before leading you over to Vhagar and moving your hand up to stroke her. She grumbles which startles you and you feel Aemond chuckle again behind you. He slowly removes his hand from yours as you continue to pet Vhagar.

“She seems to like you.” He says. “And she does not like anyone.”

You smile to him and see a rare smile on his lips. Not a smirk, a genuine smile.

“Would you like to go for a ride?” He asks.

You look to him with shock in your eyes as you contemplate the question. The idea terrified yet excited you. Not many people get the chance to ride a dragon in their lives and you could not pretend like you have not dreamt of it before.

Aemond seems surprised when you agree and then a wide grin spreads across his face.

“Very well.” He smiles.

You watch as he climbs atop Vhagar before reaching his hand to you, gesturing to climb up. You pull yourself up the ropes before grabbing Aemonds hand. He hoists you the rest of the way so you are sitting behind him. You were certain he could feel your heart beating rapidly against his back.

“Hold on tight.” He smirks.

You wrap your arms tightly around him, your body pressing up against his. The heat in your cheeks rise as you realize this is the closest you have been to him.

You don’t have time to dwell on the thought as Vhagar begins to walk out of the dragon pit before taking off. Your breath catches as you are lifted up into the sky. You close your eyes and squeeze Aemond so tight you were surprised he could still breathe.

“Open your eyes.” Aemond says, somehow knowing you closed them.

You open your eyes and for a brief moment you worry you had fallen off the dragon and died. The way you soared above the clouds was a sight of the heavens. After that you don’t shut your eyes for another second, taking in the sky around you and the lands below you. Aemond circles back around and you squeeze him tight again as he begins to descend. Once you’ve reached the dragon pit Aemond jumps off and helps you down off Vhagar.

“How did you enjoy your first dragon ride?” He smiles to you.

“I- I- I am hardly ever speechless.” You say with a beaming smile. “That was indescribable.”

Aemonds smile remains as he kisses your hand. You gaze into each others eyes for a long moment before you lean forward and place a soft kiss to his lips. He smirks to you before taking your hand again and leading you out of the dragon pit.

You and Aemond were both more lively at supper than usual, talking of the dragon ride you went for earlier. Once the meal is finished Aemond escorts you to your chambers for the night.

“I had a wonderful time with you today.” You say to Aemond as you walk down the halls. “That was honestly the first time I have felt true happiness since being here.”

“I am glad. I quite enjoy your company here. So I hope I can continue to make you happy.” Aemond responds.

“Well, now you have the rest of our lives to do so.” You playfully nudge him, making him smirk.

Once you reach your chambers you look to Aemond.

“Thank you, my prince. For everything.” You think back to the meals he first brought you when you refused to leave your room.

“Of course, my lady… Soon to be, my princess.” He takes your hand to kiss.

You gaze into his eyes with a heartfelt smile. He smiles back at you before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss to your lips. When your eyes meet again there is a strange tension in the air. You watch him glance to your lips again before he suddenly cups your cheeks and brings your lips back to his. The kiss quickly turns heated as you wrap your arms around his neck and his tongue dips into your mouth. Your heart races against your chest as he grabs your waist and pulls you closer against him. The desire between you both is electric. He pushes you up against the wall and you feel his hardness press against your hip, making you gasp into his mouth.

When your lips part you feel yourself almost lean back in, like a moth to a flame. You look at each other with wild eyes as you catch your breath.

“Goodnight, my lady.” Aemond places a kiss to your cheek.

“Goodnight, my prince.” You say bashfully.

Once you enter your chambers you let out a heavy breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. You get ready for bed, your thoughts full of Aemond. You did not expect to develop any feelings in this new marriage but now he was all you could think about. The fire between you was indescribable. You fall into a peaceful sleep as you begin to imagine your wedding and future to come.

**********

The next day everything changes. King Viserys passed away overnight. All the small folk are gathered to witness Aegon being crowned as the new king. Your family had pledged fealty to Rhaenyra when she was first crowned heir. You panic and worry for what may come from the throne being usurped.

The next few days pass by in a blur. You hardly saw Aemond and when you did there was never private moments to talk. He even stopped escorting you from meals. You could tell it pained him greatly but he could not find the time right now with everything going on.

One night a knock on your door startles you awake. You rush over, hoping to find Aemond on the other side. Your face drops with disappointment when instead you find a guard standing there.

“What is it?” You ask sleepily.

“Please keep your voice down my lady.” He says as he hands you a hooded cloak, making you arch your brow at him. “Your parents received a raven regarding this treachery. They asked I bring you home.”

“Home? What are you talking about? This is my home now... And why would they ask a gold cloak to take me away from kings landing? Why would you agree?” You babble.

“I will explain everything on our way to Winterfell. Please, my lady. We haven’t much time.” He says, peering over his shoulder.

“I would need to collect my things…” Your brain was hazy from sleep trying to comprehend what was happening.

“There is no time, my lady. Please, we need to leave now.” He begins to panic.

With no time to give it thought, you simply nod and put on the cloak to hide your vibrant red hair. He leads you cautiously through the castle through hidden passages you had never known were there. Eventually they lead you to the streets of Kings Landing. There was a carriage waiting for you just outside the city gates.

Once you are on the road you finally have a moment to process your thoughts. Your heart sinks and your stomach twists at the thought of Aemond discovering your disappearance. Tears run down your face at the thought. You did not want to leave Kings Landing, you did not want to leave him.

The next weeks of traveling was even more dreadful than when you were going to Kings Landing. Multiple times you considered jumping out of the carriage and running back to the Red Keep.

You could hardly eat with your stomach in knots. Aemond blurred all of your thoughts. All you could think of was him. The intense kisses you shared, the amazing dragon ride, his acts of kindness. It broke your heart to imagine how much you must have hurt him by leaving. You had disappeared in the middle of the night, leaving all your things behind. You worried how he would think you chose to abandon him, or worse, think you had been stolen in the night. Which in a way, you had been.

You begin to shiver as you get closer to Winterfell, the air getting colder. The guard notices and pulls a fur cloak out of a small chest inside the carriage. You wrap it tightly around you and try to steady your nerves.

“We should be there soon.” He says.

You simply nod and rest your eyes. The next time you open your eyes the carriage comes to a halt.

“Are we here?” You shoot up.

The guard nods and opens the door. You’re instantly blinded by the white of the snow. Your eyes adjust to see your parents waiting for you. You simply glare at them before your eyes land on Cregan and your expression softens. You had been so worried about Aemond that seeing Cregan nearly slipped your mind entirely.

You jump out of the carriage and do not hesitate to throw yourself in his arms. He hugs you back tightly and pats your hair.

“I thought I would never see you again.” He whispers in your ear.

You nod as the tears start again. You part and he wipes them from your face. You softly smile at him and he kisses your forehead.

“My darling, we are so glad you are safe.” Your mother interrupts to hug you.

“As soon as we heard Aegon was usurping the throne we knew we had to bring you home.” Your father says.

“Yes, thank you.” You say dryly. Your father goes to respond but you cut him off. “Thank you for dragging me away from my home, my life, everyone I have ever known. Then, deciding to bring me back and steal me away in the night. I am not sure the royals even know where I am.”

“We made them aware once you were a safe enough distance that they could not go after you.” He responds.

“Now you no longer have to marry that ‘cold prince’.” Your mother quotes your words from when you were leaving.

You think to Aemond finding out they had taken you back to Winterfell.

“Do you not think they will come after us? After me? They have dragons.” You cross your arms.

Part of you feared Aemond would come for you and steal you away. Another part of you hoped he would.

“They are far too busy with the coming war to worry about a stolen bride.” Your father says.

“That is all I have ever been to you, huh? A bride to be sold off to whichever family benefits you most.”

Before your father can respond you stomp off to the castle.

**********

You make your way to your previous bedroom, relieved to see it remains the same as you had left it. You sit down on the bed and cry into your hands. A knock at the door interrupts your sobs.

“Come.” You call dryly, assuming it was your parents.

Cregan cautiously opens the door and you stand from your bed.

“Cregan…” You say as you walk over to him. “I am so glad you are here.”

Cregan boldly closes the distance between you and pulls you into a searing kiss. All of the feelings you have for him come flooding back as you kiss him back passionately.

“(Y/n)… I have been so lost without you.” Cregan says lowly. “I feel like the luckiest man alive to have you in my arms again.”

“I missed you too.” You whisper as you rest your foreheads against each other.

He kisses you again, this time lifting you up and walking you over to the bed.

“My love… I don’t know if I can wait for our wedding night to have you.” He says as he puts you back down. “You are all I have been able to think about since the moment you left.”

You meet his eyes and they’re filled with so many emotions. Heartbreak, sadness, worry, relief, desire, love. You gaze back at him with the same feelings in your eyes.

“Then don’t.” You whisper.

Without hesitation, he kisses you again before moving his lips to your neck causing a small whimper to escape you. You tug at his cloak until it drops to the floor and he moves to push yours off your shoulders. You begin to underdress each other layer by layer, stealing hungry kisses in between. When Cregans upper half is finally exposed you run your fingers down his toned stomach. He moves his hands along the curves your body as you stand in nothing but your shift. You step back slightly and he watches as you slowly lift the thin dress over your head.

“You are so beautiful.” Cregan whispers before capturing your lips again.

You crawl into bed and watch as he unties the strings of his pants and they drop to the floor. Your eyes widen at his hardened length on display. When your eyes dart back up to his there’s a fire that lights within you both. He crawls on top of you before taking your breast in his mouth as his hand massages the other. You squirm underneath him as your hands move to his hair. His lips make their way back up to your neck.

“I love you (y/n).” He says lowly in your ear.

“I love you, Cregan.” You breathe.

His eyes meet yours and he smiles down at you with pure adoration.

“Are you certain about this, my love? We can wait until we are wed…” He asks, though you can tell there is only one answer he is hoping to hear.

You nod and kiss his lips. He dips his tongue into your mouth as he lines himself up to your entrance. You wince in pain as he slowly pushes into you. He moves slowly to give you time to adjust but also because he was barely holding it together. The feeling of you wrapped tightly around him made his head spin.

The pain soon begins to fade and you crave more of him. Something overcomes you as you move to push him onto his back and climb on top of him. He looks at you with wide eyes as you begin rocking your hips against his. You grind against his length and it sends sparks through your entire body. Cregan quickly closes his eyes, the sight of you above him as pleasured moans begin to pour from your mouth had him barreling towards his release.

“My love, please…” Cregan breathes. “I’m not going to last much longer if you continue to do that.”

You smirk down at him and watch a small gasp escape him as you line him up to your entrance and begin to slide down onto his cock.

You moan louder and have to remind yourself to be quiet, you two were not really supposed to be doing this before you are wed. His choked out moans as you ride him makes the knot in your stomach tighten more and more. You cry out his name and before you could even comprehend what was happening your entire body feels like it lit up in flames. Your vision goes black and pleasure clouds your mind. Cregan finally opens his eyes and watches you as you come undone around him. The sight of you instantly triggers his release and he groans out as his fingers dig into your hips and he comes deep inside you.

You collapse onto the bed beside him and you both lay there panting. Cregan pulls you in close and wraps his arms around you. You nuzzle your face into his neck as you hug him back.

“I feel like I’m dreaming, I just cannot believe I am holding you in my arms right now.” Cregan says softly. “Please promise me this is not a dream. Promise me you are real.”

You move your head to meet his gaze. Your hand comes up to cup his cheek as you smile warmly at him.

“I promise you this is real. I’m real.” You say before placing a kiss to his lips.

“I hope so.” He smiles warmly back at you as he lightly strokes your hand on his face.

**********

The next few days are busy with wedding preparations as your parents did not want to waste any time. You spend most of your time with Cregan, chatting away like you used to and stealing private kisses in between.

The day of your wedding was quick to come. You were filled with excitement and nerves as you put on the last of your furs.

Snow gently falls from the sky as Cregan comes into your view. You smile to each other as you walk down the snowy isle. He takes your hand in his and the ceremony begins.

“She is mine and I am hers. From this day, until the end of my days”

“He is mine and I am his. From this day, until the end of my days” You recite together as you gaze deeply into each others eyes.

You seal your marriage with a kiss. Cregan holds your hand up to the crowd and they cheer for you both. As you smile widely to the crowd, the thought of Aemond crosses your mind and there’s a pang in your chest. You push the thought away and try to focus on the present moment. Standing side by side with Cregan, whom you loved deeply, you looked like the true lady of the North that you were always meant to be.

PART TWO

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[starlightguh]

The Sharpest Tongue

Word count: 2,822

Summary: What if the stone Sylus won hadn't been the right one to send him and MC home to Linkon? As MC struggles to learn the local language, she finds herself the subject of the other warriors in the clan. Too bad it seems like Sylus has the sharper tongue amongst them all.

Tags: Cunnilingus, Grasslands AU, Jealous!Sylus

A/N: This is a bit shorter than I had planned, but I wanted to write something for the grasslands AU and saw someone mention we needed more jealousy grassland stories, so here you go! 100% transparency, I could not find anything on Talanian language, so I used Mongolian words, I'm not familiar with the language so if there are mistakes, I apologize!! I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Find this fic on Ao3 as well!

The Khan had given Sylus the bright red stone for his victory in the battle against the best warriors in the clan. My worries weren’t for nothing as there wasn’t any trace of meta flux emanating from it. No matter how hard either of us tried, we couldn’t resonate with it.

So we were stuck in the grasslands.

For someone who should have been happy due to our victory, both me and Sylus held somber faces around the celebratory fires and festivities. I could feel his red eyes staring at my downcast face as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

“We’ll just keep searching kitten…As long as we’re together we can keep looking for a way to return home.”

I inhaled deeply and nodded silently as I turned to look at him, his expression was really soft and full of apology. I wanted to go home badly. But…Sylus had a point, wallowing won’t do anything. We’ll just make a plan to find a way back to Linkon.

I steeled myself by fixing my slouched posture and closing my eyes to take deep breaths. After a few moments I opened my eyes and smiled at Sylus, “Well I guess now is the time to embrace the nomad lifestyle…Until we find our way back home that is.”

Sylus stands, my eyes lingering on his distracting buff physique as he holds out his hand.

“Let’s not weep and try to make the most of our time together, hm? Shavanika.”

His baritone voice stirs an excitement in my belly as I take his hand and he begins to twirl me to the rhythm of the festive music the villagers are playing by the campfire. I feel the beads in my hair slap my cheeks as I spin around the orange hues of the warm flames near me. For a brief while as me and Sylus danced around the flames, my anxieties had drifted away. I was grateful to have him by my side and ease my worries.

My bare feet feel unsteady as I haphazardly try to follow the rhythm of an unfamiliar tune, but the warm and strong arms of the silver-haired warrior in front of me hold me steady. I smile and laugh at Sylus’ serious expression as we dance and lose ourselves to a night full of joy.

—————————

After the festival, we packed up and moved to travel alongside the rest of the villagers. Me and Sylus agreed we would adapt to our surroundings of the people around us as we tried to find any clues about a way home.

I was not the fastest learner, but I did get a few things down, the women taught me duties I was expected to help with, from herding livestock, sewing, cooking, and laundry, I was slowly earning my place amongst the others. However, I was struggling with learning the language. I could pick up a few words here and there, but I couldn’t really understand or communicate as properly as I would like.

Then there was Sylus, he was a polyglot so picking up the language wasn’t difficult for him. He must have been fluent only after a solid two weeks of study. I was envious, but also grateful since I relied on his help a lot to learn and understand.

The warriors happily accepted Sylus, he easily fit in and would help them with hunts for resources as well as military strategies and ideas. The Khan favored him a lot and Tara told me whispers of them wanting to promote Sylus to a general title.

While we hadn’t been traveling with our clan for more than a month, we easily slipped into our roles quickly. And now it seems we quickly have found ourselves involved in more politics than we would like.

It was like any other day, I was riding my cream-colored stallion through the grassy fields trying to get the flock of sheep on the right path. I called out the different sounds and commands I was taught while keeping a stead-fast pace on horseback.

My hunter's instincts kicked in as I noticed one sheep was away from the herd, and upon further investigation, it was being hunted by a hungry coyote.

“Shit,” I hissed to myself and acted quickly as I grabbed a rope from my satchel. As the coyote pounced, I lassoed it and used my strength to pull him away from the sheep.

I was heaving and sweaty as I just lifted the clueless sheep back to the herd. As I was getting back on my horse, I heard some whistles call out to me. I glanced around and noticed a group of four warriors walking up and cooing at me.

I didn’t really recognize them, I only knew they were of the same clan since their chest guards had the same color ropes that Sylus wore. The men spoke to me in Talanian, but I could only pick out words like ‘strong’ and ‘brave.’

“I uh…am not familiar with the language yet, chlaarai .”

They seemed to just smile as one made a comment to the group in Talanian, they laughed and just waved goodbye toward me as they rode off.

I didn’t think much of this encounter until the next day.

We had set up camps deep in the Northern Grasslands, orange was taking over the skies as the dawn broke. I was hanging clothes I had just washed in the river on a clothesline outside one of the elder's yurts.

Behind me I heard the sharp tongue of Talanian, I glanced and noted those same big warriors from the other day were talking. I had paid them no mind as I did my duties.

Suddenly I heard the sharp thuds of angry footsteps behind me and a strong pair of arms wrapped themselves around my waist. I glanced up and saw a very pissed-off Sylus glaring off in the direction of the four other men.

He yelled at them in Talanian and growled when the other men responded in what I could only assume was a taunt. Sylus let go of my waist and marched up to one of the men and grabbed him by his leathers. People started to gather to watch the rowdy commotion.

I turned and saw Tarna and sighed in relief since she could explain what was going on, “Hey, Tarna….What exactly is happening?” I asked her urgently as it sounded like the men were raising their voices.

“Well…It seems the Khan’s second son Gansu said something about your er….” She paused and looked shy when translating what was said, “birthing hips, and how he wanted you as a wife to bear his children.”

I stood frozen as it all clicked into place. I looked over at Sylus who was still arguing with them, a scowl marred on his face.

“Sylus came in and said they shouldn’t speak about you that way that you were his beloved. Gansu told him that it didn’t matter to him unless you two were wedded or you were pregnant.”

“Seriously?!? If he’s the son of a Khan he can marry whoever he wants. Why would he want me?”

Tarna shook her head at me, “That’s why Sylus is arguing, he says that you are with him and will never have anyone else’s children.”

The arrogant Gansu held a smirk as he practically hissed at Sylus, a dark expression glazed over Sylus’ face. I’ve only ever caught glimpses of Sylus angry, but never this murderous.

“What did he say?” I asked Tarna, my voice full of worry. I could feel the icy chill of Sylus’ anger even from a distance.

“Gansu just said ‘well whoever takes it keeps it’ as a threat… I think you should go over and stop Sylus, if he gets in a fight with the Khan’s son they could severely punish him,” Tarna warned me.

I nodded and without a second thought, I ran up behind Sylus and gently placed my hand on his lower back. His tense body seemed to ease up a bit at my touch as I tried my hardest to speak in Talanian.

“ Amarkhan bai….S-Shavanika …” Fight not, beloved . These were the only words I could best make out with my limited knowledge.

Silently he grabbed my hand and glared down Gansu as he turned to walk away with me. I felt his grip on my hand tighten as Gansu and his men still taunted behind us. We began walking off towards our yurt and it wasn’t until we were a safe distance away I had to whimper to Sylus.

“Your grip is too tight it hurts,” I cried.

He seemed to snap out of his trance and he softened his grip and rubbed his large thumb soothingly across my hand, “Sorry sweetie… I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“I don’t exactly know what was said, but Tarna translated some of what you guys were saying. I didn’t realize the Khan’s son and his friends saw me herding sheep yesterday.”

“The Talanian language is very harsh, most of the words are very direct. The disgusting words from the Khan’s second son really got under my skin is all… Why didn’t you tell me you ran into him yesterday?”

“I didn’t think it was important… Also, I hardly saw you yesterday,” I sigh, “You came back to our tent pretty late… Are you sure you weren’t up practicing Talanian with the other village girls?” I hiss a bit. While the Khan’s son may be chasing my skirts, I can’t ignore the fact that all the girls of the village have been trying their hardest to catch Sylus’ eye.

Sylus stopped in his tracks and growled he turned to me and looked down with a sharp gaze, “How many times do I need to express to you I’m not interested in the other village girls?”

I match his glare and put my hands on my hips, “And how many times do I have to tell you I can handle myself, the Khan’s son doesn’t scare me. I’ll just refuse him.”

Sylus tsked his lips and leaned down to lift me up on his shoulder.

“Hey! Put me down!”

“No. It seems like I need to practice Talanian with the only village girl who matters to me,” he says sharply. He gives my butt a playful smack as I’m hoisted over his shoulder, my face in the direction of his backside.

I smack his butt back and he just chuckles, “You’re not getting out of this one Shavanika, so simmer down kitten.”

When he strutted into our tiny little yurt and set me down, his red eyes shined with a mixture of excitement and mischief. His hand remained on my waist as he spoke in a low and seductive tone.

My back arched at the feeling of his hands trailing down my waist and gathering my skirts up in his large rough palms. He set his other palm in the dip on my hip as he stared at me with almost an appraising look in his eye. “Let’s start with the lesson…What did that man call these?”

His left dominant hand was under my skirt caressing my thigh, I let out a shaky breath as I closed my eyes and tried to remember the foreign words spoken earlier.

“T-Toro? Kha-?” I sputtered out as his palm found its way to one of my bare-asscheeks. He squeezed it and tsked his lips as he brought his face closer to mine and he spoke lowly.

“Torkah Khongo,” the purr in his voice did nothing but further my arousal. I was being engulfed by the dominant energy Sylus was putting out. It didn’t take very much for me to become putty in his strong hands.

His other hand reached under my skirt as well and without further notice, the lengthy skirt that usually met my ankles were now scrunched up at my waist. Underwear wasn’t a common thing within the tribe, so I had been forced to forgo that luxury and be commando under my lengthy traditional clothing. I think for a situation such as a lustful Sylus, it was beneficial to be as naked as possible.

“Do you know what the translation is?” He quirked a brow.

“B-Birthing Hips?”

“Mhmm,” there was a slight growl to his response, “he said that you had the birthing hips to bear him many sons.” Sylus gripped my hips in a tightening grip. “Too bad for him these hips are miniikh.”

Sylus dropped to his knees in a squat as his mouth bit a part of my inner thigh, his hands rubbing the bare skin before him. “Do you know the translation?”

His mouth placed hot and wet kisses in my inner thigh, teasing me by being so close to where I actually wanted his mouth. I gasped out an answer as he was torturing me with kisses, “M-Mine?”

“Good girl, seems like you do know more than I thought,” he whispers breathlessly, “Let me reward you.”

He then licked my dripping slit, I let out a whimper in surprise.

“Tell me, who do these hips belong to?” He asked as he pulled away from licking my heat.

“Y-You.”

He smacked my thigh at my answer, “Ah-Ah-Ah, in Talanian sweetie.”

“ Ta,” I moaned out as he suckled on my sensitive pearl.

With a pop of his lips, he pulled away and smirked, “Hmm that’s a good answer, but I have a better one. Repeat after me: Nökhör .”

The pronunciation of the word feels strange as I try my best to repeat it, “noct-core?”

Sylus just shakes his head and repeats it slower for me, when I finally pronounce it right he rewards me by entering one of his fingers into my dripping center.

“Keep saying it sweetie, practice makes perfect,” he chuckles and his mouth finds my center again as he slowly devours me.

With his finger slowly pumping me and his greedy tongue flickering on my sensitive folds, my voice is nothing but a loud and needy whine of this new word he’s taught me and I haven’t a clue what it means. All I know is Sylus likes it as he happily groans into my dripping cunt.

“Louder. I want the whole tribe to hear you scream it, so everyone knows we belong to each other and no one else,” his lower face is dripping in my essence and his red eyes have a bit of a manic and desperate look as I look down on him.

“Sylus….” I lose my mind as he now has three fingers in me and the mouth of a sinner as he loudly slurps at my folds with his sharp tongue.

Ecstasy and euphoria wash over me as I come on his face with that new and unfamiliar word on my tongue. My knees shake and nearly give out, but Sylus stands and lifts me up so my legs are wrapped around his middle.

I lean my head forward as I pant into his ear, “What’s the translation of that word.”

He laughs as he rubs my back while I come down from my high, “Why, it’s my future title…It means ‘husband.’”

“Sylus! How bold of you to assume!”

He frowned at this and glared at me, “I'm not assuming anything, but unless you want to be the wife of the Khan’s son, then you must be mine…I can’t protect you from the leaders otherwise.”

I blush, “I-It’s just so embarrassing….I never thought about marriage.”

He smirks a bit, “Well I'm glad I can change your mind, at least while we’re here. Linkon has a very different culture from the grasslands, and we can talk about a proper marriage when we return home. Deal?”

“Fine but you’re not knocking me up while I'm here,” I huff at him as he lays me down on our pelts and strips off the rest of his clothes.

“I make no promises, but I’ll do my best. You’re just too tempting, Shavanika.”

“Only for you my Nökhör.”

That night Sylus made me scream so loud that the Khan’s son did nothing but glare daggers as Sylus confidently walked through the village the next day I, on the other hand, was forced to stay in bed due to my wobbly knees. When I finally returned to my duties after a day's rest, the other girls just giggled as they saw me.

Tarna translated a message for me that the elders are happy for whatever blessings me and Sylus marriage may bring, but to keep it to ourselves at night. I was horrified and embarrassed, while Sylus walked around as the proud warrior both in the grasslands and in the bedroom.

The strongest warrior and the sharpest tongue will always come out on top I suppose.

~fin~

Translation guide:

Shavanika - Beloved

Chlaarai - Sorry

Amarkhan bai - Fight not

Torkah Khongo - Birthing Hips

Miniikh - Mine

Ta - You

Nökhör - Husband

[luvoooenha]

Fake skating

Summary- Y/N and Sunghoon have been ice skating rivals for as long as she can remember—or so she thinks. To Y/N, Sunghoon is the enemy: the boy who always outshines her on the ice, snatches her titles, her hard-earned moments, and, worst of all, her parents' approval. Their relentless comparisons and favoritism sting more than she'd ever admit. She tells herself she doesn’t care... but she does. She cares too much.

Worse still, ice skating—once something she loved—has become a prison. The pressure, the spotlight, and the constant race to beat Sunghoon have drained her. One day, something snaps. A small moment—maybe a stumble, a comment, or just a realization—hits her like a blade to the back of her head: She doesn’t have to do this anymore. Five months before the skating season begins, Y/N shocks everyone by quitting ice skating to pursue something unexpected—cheerleading.

The decision rocks their world. Her parents are furious. The skating world is stunned. And Sunghoon? He’s pissed. Not because he hates her like she thinks—but because he secretly loves skating with her. Ever since they were kids, she’s been his fire, his rival, his everything. Now, with her gone, the ice feels colder, emptier.

As Y/N flourishes in cheer, Sunghoon is forced to confront the truth: rivalry was never what he felt for her. And maybe… just maybe, Y/N is about to realize that too.

Paring- Ice skater! Sunghoon x Cheerleader! Y/N

warnings! angst, kissing, bad relationship with parents, peer pressure, contact with ex (ik yall need this one...), imposter syndrome (kinda), PDA, crying, pls lmk if I missed some!

wc: 18k

a/n- finished this in 9 hours (we all cheer!) im writing this bc I loved high school cheer 💞

Y/N had always hated Park Sunghoon. Not the kind of petty dislike you develop for someone in passing, but a deep, seething loathing that came from years of rivalry, of stolen victories, and spotlight-snatching. Sunghoon was everywhere. On the ice, in her coaches' praises, on her parents' lips.

 "Why can’t you be more like Sunghoon? Look how clean his footwork is. Look at that triple axel! He’s so dedicated."

Dedicated. Talented. Perfect.

And Y/N was always a step behind.

They had started skating together as kids, back when things were simpler. Back when ice skating was fun and not a competition. But everything changed the moment Sunghoon started winning, and Y/N didn’t. Not that she lost often, but even one second place behind him felt like failure in her parents' eyes.

Her hatred simmered with every medal he took home, every cheer from the crowd meant for her but redirected to him. He didn’t even try to be nice about it. Always calm, composed, with that smug little smirk when he bowed for applause.

She hated him. She hated him so much.

But Sunghoon? He didn’t hate her the way she thought he did. Sure, they argued, exchanged icy glares, and their banter could cut through titanium. But behind it all, his feelings weren’t made of hate. They were made of something else, something he didn’t dare speak aloud.

Because to him, Y/N wasn’t just a rival. She was the rival. The reason he pushed harder, trained longer, aimed higher. Skating with her, against her, was the thrill he lived for. He couldn't imagine a rink without her.

Then one day, everything changed.

Y/N stood in the center of the rink, her skates on for what would be the last time. She had made up her mind. The resentment, the pressure, the suffocating expectations—it was too much. She had started skating for herself, but now, it wasn’t even hers anymore. It belonged to her parents, to the judges, to Sunghoon.

As she landed her final jump, her coach's whistle cut through the rink like a blade.

"Stop! What was that? Are you even trying, Y/N? That performance was lifeless. Flat. Again! From the top."

Y/N blinked, sweat dripping down her face, lungs burning.

"Coach, I—"

"No excuses! You're sloppy. You think this half-hearted effort is going to win you anything? You want to keep embarrassing yourself next to Sunghoon? Because that’s all you’re doing lately. If you can’t keep up, maybe it’s time to rethink your priorities."

Something in Y/N cracked. The words slammed into her chest like a freight train, knocking the air out of her lungs. Her hands curled into fists as tears stung her eyes.

"You know what? You're right," she said, voice trembling. "I am rethinking my priorities. I'm done. I quit."

Silence fell over the rink. Her coach gaped, stunned. Sunghoon turned sharply, eyes wide.

There was a beat of silence before her coach let out a short laugh. "Very funny, Y/N. Now stop playing around and take your position again. From the top."

Y/N yanked off her skates, throwing them down with a thud. "I'm not joking! I can't do this anymore. I try my best, every single day, and it's never enough. I feel like I have to be perfect, like I have to be like Sunghoon or else I'm nothing! Do you know how exhausting that is? To give everything you have and still feel like you're falling short—like you're invisible?"

Her voice rose, cracking under the weight of years of bottled-up frustration. "I hate it! I hate how this feels! I used to love skating, but now it's just pressure and pain and—"

Her words choked off, and tears streamed down her face as she sank to her knees on the ice, sobbing for the first time since she was a little girl. Her shoulders shook with each breath, and the weight of years of pressure finally broke her.

Her coach froze, the laughter gone, replaced by awkward silence. "Y/N... come on now, don't be like this. You're just tired. Think about all the work you've put in, all the competitions ahead. You don't want to throw that away, do you? Think about your parents. They’ve sacrificed so much for you."

The guilt-tripping only made her cry harder. No one moved. No one spoke. For once, it wasn’t about winning or losing. It was just about her.

She had broken free, and it hurt like hell.

Grabbing her bag with trembling hands, Y/N stormed out of the rink, skates clenched tightly, boots clacking against the floor with every determined step. Her breaths came in sharp bursts, vision blurred by tears she couldn’t stop.

Behind her, Sunghoon watched, frozen for a moment, then took off after her. "Y/N! Wait!"

She didn’t stop. The door slammed open and she stepped into the cold air, needing space, distance—anything but him.

"Y/N!" Sunghoon called again, catching up to her in the parking lot. "Talk to me! You can’t just walk away like that."

She spun around, eyes blazing. "Why not? Why can’t I, Sunghoon? What do you want me to say? That I’m fine? That this doesn’t matter? It meant nothing to you, but it meant everything to me. And I can’t anymore. I just can’t."

He stared at her, stunned. "It didn’t mean anything. It never did."

But to Y/N, at that moment, his words were just noise.

She turned away, shoulders shaking, and kept walking.

When Y/N got home, her parents were waiting.

"What were you thinking?" her mother snapped. "You made a scene! Quitting? Is that your idea of a joke?"

"You embarrassed us," her father added, eyes cold. "After everything we’ve done for you, and this is how you repay us? Throwing it all away like it’s nothing? Do you know how much money we've spent on your training, the sacrifices we've made? Do you think this is some game?"

"I'm not a puppet!" Y/N screamed, her voice cracking from all the held-in anger. "You talk about sacrifices? I sacrificed myself for this stupid dream that wasn’t even mine! You never asked what I wanted. You just shoved me into skates and expected perfection. I’m done! I’m done killing myself to make you proud. I'm tired of being compared to Sunghoon like I'm nothing more than a failure."

Her mother stepped forward, face flushed with fury. "You ungrateful child! You think this is about what you want? We’ve given you everything—"

"No! You gave me pressure, and guilt, and a life that doesn’t belong to me! I don’t want it! I want to live for myself! I want to breathe, and choose my own future!"

Her father’s voice was low, dangerous. "You’re a junior in high school. You’ve got a future ahead of you—college recruiters are watching, scouts have shown interest. You’re going to throw away your shot at scholarships, your entire career—because of what? A tantrum?"Y/N’s hands trembled, but her voice was steel. "It’s not a tantrum. It’s me choosing my future. Maybe I don’t want to go to college for skating. Maybe I want to try something new, something that actually makes me happy. Maybe I want to cheer, or theater, or anything else. And if that means losing everything you planned for me, then so be it."

Her mother’s face twisted in disbelief. "You want to cheer? That’s what you’re throwing your life away for? After all our sacrifices, all our time, all our money—"

"It’s not your life!" Y/N shouted, eyes blazing with unshed tears. "It’s mine! And I’m taking it back."

Her father’s voice dropped to a growl. "If you walk away from this, from everything we’ve done for you—don’t expect our help. Not with college, not with anything. You’re on your own."

Y/N took a shaky breath, heart pounding. "I’m not asking for your support anymore. I don’t need it. I just need to be me."

Her parents stood in stunned silence, and for the first time, Y/N wasn’t afraid of their disappointment.

She was just Y/N, finally standing on her own.

Y/N dropped her bag onto the bedroom floor, the weight of the day pressing down on her shoulders. She stood still for a moment, staring at the door like it might somehow close off the noise in her mind. The argument with her parents, the look on Sunghoon’s face, the stinging words she’d thrown in the heat of frustration—it all circled around her like a storm she couldn’t escape.

Her hand trembled as she picked up her phone. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath until she saw the missed messages.

One from Sunghoon. A few from Yunjin. One from Coach Minji.

Her throat tightened again, this time with a feeling she couldn’t quite place. The fear of what Sunghoon might have said. They worry that Yunjin will be angry. And Minji… Well, Coach Minji’s messages were always a direct reflection of her expectations—something she was no longer sure she could meet.

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, phone still in her hands, staring at the screen. The world felt muffled, like she was floating just out of reach of everything she used to know. She had made her decision. It had been impulsive, almost reckless—but now, in the silence of her room, she wasn’t sure if she had the strength to face what came next.

Her thumb hovered over Sunghoon’s message. She could almost hear his voice through the screen, the sharpness of his anger, the disappointment, or maybe something else she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Yunjin’s messages were no better, her best friend undoubtedly full of concern, maybe even a little confusion. But it was Coach Minji’s message that lingered in her thoughts.

She opened it.

"Y/N, we need to talk. This decision is not something I take lightly, and neither should you. I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow morning. I hope you’ve thought this through."

The words hit her harder than she expected. She had thought she was done, that walking away was the only way to free herself, but Minji’s message reminded her just how many people she was leaving behind—people who had invested in her. People who had believed in her when she couldn’t.

Her breath caught in her chest, and for a moment, the room felt impossibly small. What had she done?

Y/N stared at Coach Minji’s message for a long moment, her thumb hovering over the screen as if the words might change if she gave them enough time. But they didn’t. They were there, cold and final, a reminder of the world she had just walked away from. A world she thought she could never escape from.

She had always been good at pushing through—at burying the doubts and pushing down the guilt until it became a dull hum in the background. But now, it felt like the noise was deafening, every echo of her old life ringing in her ears.

The truth was, Y/N wasn’t sure when it had all started to feel like a cage, but she knew it had been a long time coming. For years, she had lived for the approval of her coaches, her parents, and the skating world. They’d made her believe that winning was everything. That titles and awards were all that mattered. But in the end, it was nothing but pressure. A pressure that had consumed her.

She had thought quitting would feel like freedom, like stepping into a space where she could breathe again. But now that the choice was made, the weight of it was heavy, like a stone in her chest. The fear of the unknown gnawed at her insides, but it was nothing compared to the suffocating feeling of being trapped in a life that wasn’t hers.

Her fingers hovered over the phone again, and she could almost hear Coach Minji’s disappointed tone in her mind, and could almost picture the stern look she would get in the rink tomorrow. But Y/N didn’t care anymore. She wasn’t going back. Not to skate. Not to that world.

She deleted the message from Minji without a second thought, her pulse racing as if the simple action was somehow going to release her from the grip of her past.

As for Sunghoon... Well, his message could wait.

Y/N didn’t know if she was ready to confront him yet. She didn’t know if she was ready to face the fact that everything she had believed about their rivalry—about him—might have been wrong. Maybe he wasn’t the enemy after all. Maybe he had been the only person who truly understood what it was like to be stuck in that world. But even the thought of confronting him, of having to talk through everything, felt too much. Too soon.

She wouldn’t respond to him. Not today. Maybe not ever.

Instead, she focused on the new path she was carving for herself. Cheerleading was different. It was wild, chaotic, loud—and most importantly, it was hers. No comparisons. No judgments. No constant fight to prove she was enough.

The pressure was gone. For the first time in years, Y/N could breathe. And that, she realized, was worth more than any title, any medal, or any coach’s approval.

She placed her phone face down on the nightstand and curled up under the covers, her mind still racing but with a sense of quiet resolve settling in. Tomorrow, she would step into a new world—one where she wasn’t defined by her past. One where, for the first time in forever, she could simply be herself.

And for the first time in a long time, she felt a flicker of hope.

The next morning, Y/N walked into school with her head held high, but the familiar buzz of the hallway felt different today. Normally, she would have felt energized, ready to push through another day of balancing practice, schoolwork, and everything in between. But today, everything felt off. Like the weight of her decision was following her, hanging over every step she took.

Yunjin caught up with her by the lockers, her usual bright energy replaced by something more cautious.

"Y/N, we need to talk," she said, her voice low but steady, like she knew Y/N had already made up her mind.

Y/N paused, biting her lip. She didn't want to face this yet, but Yunjin was her best friend. The one person who knew her better than anyone else, the one who always had her back. The thought of disappointing her hurt more than she cared to admit.

"What’s up?" Y/N said, trying to sound casual, though she could feel the tension in her own voice.

Yunjin glanced around before pulling Y/N aside into a quieter corner of the hallway. "You’ve been avoiding me all morning," she started, her eyes full of concern. "And… I get it. I know this decision was big, but you’ve barely said a word since yesterday. Are you okay?"

Y/N forced a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, I’m fine."

But Yunjin wasn’t buying it. "No, you’re not," she pressed. "I get that you’re going through a lot right now, but running away from it isn’t the answer. You can’t just ignore everything. Especially not Sunghoon." Her eyes softened as she said his name, like she knew how difficult it would be for Y/N to hear.

"Sunghoon?" Y/N laughed, but it was hollow. "Why do you even care about him? He’s the one who’s always made everything harder for me. He doesn’t care about me, Yunjin. He just wants to win."

But Yunjin shook her head, crossing her arms. "That’s not true. You know that’s not true." Her voice was firm, and for a moment, Y/N could hear the underlying hurt in her words. "He’s been texting you nonstop, hasn’t he? He’s been worried about you. And you haven’t even responded."

Y/N’s throat tightened. She hadn’t realized it, but she had been ignoring all of Sunghoon’s messages since yesterday. She hadn’t even opened his texts. It was easier that way—easier to keep the world she had left behind at arm's length.

"I don’t need him to worry about me," Y/N muttered, feeling the sting of her own words. "I’m done with all of it. Done with skating. Done with him."

Yunjin’s eyes softened, but she didn’t push. Instead, she gave Y/N a small, knowing look. "You’re not just done with him, are you?" she asked quietly. "You’re running from something. From everything. But Y/N, you can’t just keep shutting everyone out."

Y/N bit her lip, feeling the lump form in her throat. She hadn’t realized it before, but the more Yunjin spoke, the more it hurt. Maybe it wasn’t just skating she was running from. Maybe it was Sunghoon. And maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t understood how much he had meant to her. How much he had been there all along, even in ways she hadn’t recognized.

As if on cue, Yunjin’s phone buzzed, breaking the silence. She glanced down at it and her expression shifted. "It’s Sunghoon," she said, her voice softer now. "He’s asking to meet up. He wants to talk."

Y/N’s stomach dropped. "I don’t want to talk to him," she said quickly, but it was too late. The words were already out there, and she couldn’t take them back.

But Yunjin wasn’t letting up. "Y/N, you have to talk to him. You don’t get it, do you? He’s not just your rival. He’s been your closest person for so long. You’ve both been pushing each other to the limit, but... that’s not just rivalry. It never was."

Y/N stared at her friend, the truth slowly sinking in. The realization hit her like a punch in the gut. Sunghoon had always been there, always been the person who pushed her, challenged her, made her feel something other than emptiness. But she had always seen him as the enemy, the one who took everything she wanted, the one who made her feel like she wasn’t good enough.

But now… now she saw it. He had been struggling too, just in a different way. And worse, she hadn’t even given him the chance to explain. She hadn’t even realized that he cared.

"I didn’t know," Y/N whispered, the weight of the realization pressing down on her chest. "I didn’t know he felt like that."

Yunjin gave her a sad smile, the kind that said everything without needing words. "He does, Y/N. But you’re shutting him out. And if you keep doing that… you’re going to lose him. You’re not just quitting skating. You’re walking away from everything that made you who you are."

Y/N’s heart ached, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t just because of the pressure. It was because she had made a decision that had hurt the people she cared about most, without even realizing it.

She needed to face him. She needed to understand the things she had ignored for so long. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late to make things right. But for now, she just had to take the first step.

Y/N found herself standing at the corner of the school’s courtyard, her palms sweaty despite the cool breeze. She hadn’t agreed to meet Sunghoon, not really, but somehow she ended up here, the weight of his unspoken words hanging over her. Her thoughts were scattered, but there was a part of her that knew she couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.

A figure appeared from the shadows—Sunghoon, walking toward her with that familiar, determined stride. He stopped a few feet away, his face unreadable but his eyes sharp, like he was waiting for her to speak. For her to say something, anything, that would break the tension between them.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. Y/N could feel the space between them crackling, filled with unspoken questions, unsaid words.

Finally, Sunghoon spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "You really think you can just walk away from everything, Y/N?"

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She wanted to deny it, to tell him that she was fine, that everything was fine, but the truth was too much to hold in. She swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but they were lost somewhere deep inside her.

"I… I don’t know what else to do," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling despite her best efforts. "Skating was everything, and now it’s nothing. It feels like I’m suffocating in it, Sunghoon. I don’t even remember why I started anymore. I’m just so tired of fighting for something that… that I don’t even want."

Sunghoon’s gaze softened, but there was no anger in his eyes—only concern, a deep, unspoken hurt. He stepped closer, closing the distance between them, his presence solid and unwavering.

"You think quitting will fix it?" he asked, his voice low, almost gentle. "Do you really think running away from skating will solve everything?"

Y/N’s chest tightened, and she finally let the walls around her heart crack. She blinked hard, trying to stop the tears from spilling, but they came anyway. The vulnerability she had been hiding for so long was too much to hold back.

"I don’t know," she choked out. "I just… I just wanted to feel like I was more than just a title. More than just what everyone else expected of me. I wanted to be… free. But now, I feel even worse. I thought quitting would help, but I don’t even know who I am anymore."

Sunghoon didn’t speak right away. Instead, he stepped forward, his hand reaching out, gently brushing her arm. It wasn’t the touch she expected, but it was the one she needed. For once, he wasn’t the rival who pushed her to be better—he was the person who was simply there.

He took another step closer, his voice soft but insistent. "Y/N, I know you’ve been carrying this for a long time. I know it’s not easy, but you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here. Always have been."

Y/N’s heart ached at his words, and before she could stop herself, she felt the flood of emotion hit her all at once. Her chest heaved as she fought to keep the tears at bay, but they spilled over anyway. "I’m scared, Sunghoon," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Scared of failing. Scared of being nothing."

His hand moved to her shoulder, steady and comforting. "You’re not nothing," he said, his voice steady, like he was trying to anchor her in a storm. "You never were. And you’re not alone in this. You don’t have to be the perfect skater, the perfect daughter, the perfect anything. You’re enough as you are."

Y/N looked up at him, eyes full of disbelief. For so long, she had seen him as the one who always had everything figured out—the one who never faltered, never showed weakness. And now, here he was, offering her something she hadn’t even known she needed: understanding, acceptance, and a kindness that was impossible to ignore.

"I didn’t realize how much I hurt you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I didn’t even think about how it was affecting you."

Sunghoon’s expression softened, but there was no anger in his eyes. Just… a quiet sadness. "You didn’t know," he said simply. "And I didn’t know how to tell you. But I’m not mad, Y/N. I just… I want you to be happy. I want you to feel like you’re not doing this just for everyone else. For once, do it for yourself."

Y/N felt a shudder pass through her, her heart pounding in her chest as his words sank in. For the first time in ages, she felt like maybe she wasn’t alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward—without the weight of expectations, without the pressure of being perfect.

She took a shaky breath, her hands still trembling. "I don’t know if I can go back to skating," she admitted, her voice fragile. "But I want to figure out who I am without it. I don’t want to keep pretending to be something I’m not."

Sunghoon nodded, a small, understanding smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You don’t have to go back to skating if you don’t want to. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. But whatever you decide, I’ll be here. I’ve always been here."

Y/N felt the weight on her shoulders lighten just a little, the pressure of the decision she had made beginning to ease. Maybe she didn’t have all the answers yet. Maybe she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. But for the first time, she wasn’t scared to figure it out. And she wasn’t alone.

As Sunghoon stood beside her, the tension between them began to dissolve. Maybe the rivalry wasn’t over, but it didn’t have to define them anymore. Not when they both finally understood what really mattered.

The rest of the day passed in a blur for Y/N. Her conversation with Sunghoon had given her a lot to think about, and as she walked home, the weight in her chest had lessened, replaced by a strange sense of resolve. She hadn’t realized how much she had been holding in until now. Maybe, just maybe, she was starting to figure things out.

When she walked into her room, she tossed her bag onto the bed and let out a deep breath. The house was quiet—too quiet—and the silence made her feel even more unsure about everything she had left behind. But then, as she sat down at her desk, something caught her eye.

A small flyer was pinned to the corkboard by her window, one she hadn’t noticed before. It was brightly colored, with bold, attention-grabbing text: Cheerleading Tryouts - Two Weeks Away!

Her pulse quickened as she stepped closer, reading the details. Two cheer clinics next week, tryouts on Monday. The more she read, the more the excitement bubbled up inside her. This was it. The step she needed to take.

For the first time in a long while, she felt a spark of something—something other than doubt or fear. Maybe this is what I’ve been looking for, she thought.

Y/N had always loved the energy of cheerleading. It was different than skating—it was fast, loud, and full of adrenaline. The thought of performing stunts, the idea of being part of a team again, made her heart race. And the best part? She wasn’t starting from scratch. She had the skills.

She wasn’t just someone who could do a toe touch or a right hurdler. She could do a front handspring. She’d stunted with her cousins countless times just for fun, laughing as they lifted each other in the air. The balance, the flexibility, the coordination—it was all there. She had the basics, the physical foundation. It was just a matter of diving in and trusting herself.

Y/N placed her hand on the flyer, the weight of the decision settling into her mind. She wasn’t going to let fear stop her anymore. This was the next step in her life, the next chapter. She could feel the pull of it, the way it called to her in a way that skating hadn’t for a long time.

"I’m doing this," she whispered to herself, the words firm in the quiet room. "I’m taking the step. No looking back."

She grabbed her phone and texted Yunjin: Hey, I'm going to the cheer clinic next week. You should come with me.

The excitement of the idea hit her all over again, and this time, there was no hesitation. No second-guessing. She was ready. Ready to let go of the past and embrace something new. Something that was hers, something that felt right.

It wasn’t just about trying something different—it was about reclaiming herself. She wasn’t defined by her past, by the titles and expectations. She was ready to redefine who she was.

And no matter what came next, she knew she would face it head-on, with a strength she didn’t know she had until now.

The cheer clinic was held in the gymnasium of the high school, a place Y/N had walked past countless times but never truly noticed. Now, as she stepped inside, the sound of sneakers slapping against the polished floor and the sharp, rhythmic claps of hands echoed in the space, and she felt the excitement buzzing in the air.

The clinic was packed with girls—some familiar faces from school, others she’d never seen before, all stretching and warming up in groups. The atmosphere was electric, and for the first time in ages, Y/N felt a spark of joy. This wasn’t about competition. This wasn’t about perfection. It was about fun, energy, and being part of something bigger than herself.

Yunjin walked beside her, equally excited but also nervous. “Are you sure about this?” she asked, her eyes wide. “This is... a whole different world from skating.”

Y/N smiled, her stomach fluttering with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. “Yeah, but I think it’s exactly what I need. I’m ready for something new. And I’m not starting from scratch. I’ve got some moves.”

Yunjin laughed. “I know you do. I’ve seen you do stunts with your cousins. You’ve got this.”

They joined the group at the center of the gym, where Coach Minjae, the cheerleading coach, was already giving instructions. Coach Minjae was all smiles, exuding energy and enthusiasm that made Y/N’s nerves ease just a little. "Alright, ladies!" he called, clapping his hands. "We’re here to get a feel for cheerleading. Stretch, warm up, and let’s get ready to move."

Y/N joined in with the group, stretching her muscles and feeling her body loosen up. It felt good—she was flexible, had the strength, and the muscle memory from skating was already kicking in. She could do a toe touch, a right hurdler—nothing too complicated, but it was a start.

Coach Minjae moved among the girls, offering pointers and encouragement. After a few minutes, they began practicing some basic stunts—nothing too advanced, just a simple toss and catch. Y/N’s heart raced as they paired up. She didn’t know anyone here, but it didn’t matter. She just needed to prove to herself that she could do this.

When it was her turn, Y/N partnered with a girl named Mira, a senior who was tall and strong, a perfect base for stunting. Mira looked at her with a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry, we got this."

Y/N nodded, holding her breath as she stepped into position. Mira helped lift her up into a basic cradle, lifting her smoothly into the air. The feeling was exhilarating—there was no ice beneath her, no cold, just the rush of adrenaline and the sound of the gym all around her. It felt freeing.

“Great job, Y/N! You’ve got the technique down!” Coach Minjae called from the sidelines, and Y/N couldn’t help but beam. The approval felt different than it had when skating. It felt genuine. She wasn’t just being praised for her ability to win—it was about the effort, the teamwork, the energy. It was refreshing.

As the clinic progressed, they moved on to more complex stunts. Y/N’s confidence grew with each one, the group getting into sync as they learned to work together. She stunted with a few different girls, her heart racing each time she was lifted into the air or tossed up for a handspring. Her muscles were sore from the new movements, but it was the good kind of soreness—the kind that reminded her she was challenging herself, pushing her boundaries in a way she hadn’t for a long time.

After about two hours of practice, Coach Minjae gathered everyone into a circle for the final part of the clinic: the tumbling session. Y/N felt a familiar thrill run through her—this was her element. She had done front handsprings countless times as a kid, and now was her chance to show off. She stretched again and got into position, pushing herself into a fluid back handspring and landing solidly on her feet.

"That’s what I’m talking about!" Coach Minjae said, grinning as he clapped. "Nice work, Y/N! You’ve got natural talent."

Y/N’s heart swelled with pride. She hadn’t expected to feel so at home so quickly, but it was like the movements were second nature. It wasn’t the same as skating, but in some ways, it felt even better. Here, she wasn’t just pushing herself to be perfect. She was learning, growing, and enjoying the process.

When the clinic wrapped up, Y/N was sweaty and exhausted, but there was a grin on her face that didn’t fade. She looked at Yunjin, who was standing nearby, her eyes wide with awe.

“That was amazing,” Yunjin said. “You were incredible out there. You’re a natural.”

Y/N laughed, her breath still heavy. “I guess I didn’t realize how much I missed being in a team. It’s different from skating, but... it feels right.”

As they made their way to the exit, Coach Minjae called out to Y/N, motioning for her to come over. “Hey, I saw you out there today,” he said with a friendly smile. “You’ve got a lot of potential. I’m excited to see how you do at tryouts on Monday. Keep practicing what you’ve learned. And don’t forget, the clinic next week is a great opportunity to refine your skills before tryouts. We’re looking for someone with your drive.”

Y/N’s heart raced again. “Thanks, Coach. I’ll be ready.”

As she walked out of the gym with Yunjin, the energy still buzzing in her veins, she knew this was just the beginning. She hadn’t just stepped into the world of cheerleading; she had stepped into a new chapter of her life.

It wasn’t about quitting skating—it was about finding herself again, finding joy in something new, and realizing she was more than just a skater. She was a person with strength, flexibility, and passion—and she wasn’t going to let anything or anyone take that away.

Y/N walked through the door, her heart still racing from the excitement of the clinic. The buzz of adrenaline hadn't quite worn off, and for the first time in days, she felt at peace with her decision. She was doing something for herself, something she was good at and enjoyed. But that sense of peace quickly evaporated when she stepped into the living room.

Her parents were sitting together on the couch, the atmosphere tense. Her mom's arms were crossed, her eyes narrow, and her dad's jaw was clenched. It was immediately clear that something was off.

"Y/N," her mom began, her voice calm but filled with an edge, "We need to talk."

Y/N froze in the doorway, her stomach dropping. She'd been dreading this moment, but she hadn't expected it to come so soon. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady. "What’s going on?"

Her dad's voice broke the silence. "We got a call today. About the cheerleading clinic. You didn't think we’d find out?"

Y/N’s chest tightened, and the weight of their disapproval pressed down on her. “I—I didn’t think it mattered,” she said quietly, trying to keep her emotions in check. “I’m not skating anymore. I want to try something different.”

Her mom's eyes flashed with frustration. "Different? You’re throwing away everything we’ve worked for all these years. All the time, all the money we’ve put into your ice skating career—this is how you repay us?"

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest. "I'm not throwing it away. I just—" She paused, taking a shaky breath. "I need a break. I need to do something that makes me happy. Something that’s not about competition or living up to expectations. I want to try cheerleading."

Her dad stood up, his voice rising in frustration. "You don't understand. You’re wasting your talent! You’re so close to everything we've been working for. You could be a champion, Y/N. And now you're just going to quit? After all the years we've invested? You can’t be serious."

Y/N's chest tightened even more, the pressure building as her parents' voices rang in her ears. She tried to stay calm, but the words her dad had just said stung, reminding her of the years she’d spent chasing something that had never really been hers to begin with.

"I can’t do this anymore," Y/N said, her voice shaking slightly but growing firmer with each word. "It’s not about being a champion. It’s about feeling like I’m actually living my life, not just living up to your dreams for me. I want something for myself, and that’s cheerleading. I know it might not make sense to you, but I can’t keep pretending skating is everything when it doesn’t make me happy anymore."

Her mom stood up, shaking her head in disbelief. "You don’t know what you’re doing. You’ll regret this. You’re just being emotional. You’ve always been so impulsive with your decisions."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “I’ve been thinking about this for months, and it’s not impulsive. I’m doing what’s best for me.”

The silence between them stretched out, thick with disappointment and anger. Y/N knew they wouldn’t understand. They had always pushed her to be the best, to win, to shine on the ice. But she had grown tired of being defined by other people’s expectations.

"You're being selfish, Y/N," her dad said, his voice softening, but the disappointment was still there. "All we've done for you... and now you're just walking away from it."

Y/N’s heart wavered for a moment, but she held her ground. "I’m not walking away from you. I’m just walking toward something that makes me feel alive. You can’t make me skate anymore. I’m not doing it for you or for anyone else. It’s my life, and I’m choosing to live it on my terms."

Her mom and dad exchanged a look, the silence in the room growing heavier. Finally, her mom sighed and dropped her arms. "You’ve always been stubborn. You won’t listen, will you?"

Y/N shook her head. “No. I won’t.”

Her dad let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the conversation had drained him. "Fine. But don’t expect us to support this. You’re on your own with this decision."

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat, but she didn’t flinch. "I know. I’m ready to be on my own. I’ll make it work."

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and left the room, the heavy air following her every step. She needed space. She needed to breathe.

As she shut the door to her bedroom behind her, Y/N leaned against it, her chest tight and her mind racing. It hurt, it really did, to hear her parents' words. But the decision was hers, and she wasn’t going to let anyone make her doubt it.

She looked over at the cheer flyer on her desk, the bright colors calling to her again. This was where she needed to be. This was the step she had chosen, and no matter how hard it was, she was going to take it.

The next few days felt like a blur. Y/N’s mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—relief mixed with guilt, excitement mixed with uncertainty. Her parents’ words haunted her, despite the resolve she’d felt when she walked away from that conversation.

It was strange, living in the same house but feeling worlds apart from her parents. They barely spoke to her, their disappointment so palpable it weighed heavily in the air, even when they were in the same room. Every time she caught their gaze, they looked at her like she was a stranger.

But Y/N didn’t let it break her. She couldn’t. She couldn’t go back to the life they wanted for her, not when she had just found something that made her feel like herself again.

The cheerleading tryouts were just around the corner, and though she hadn’t fully shaken the tension at home, she threw herself into preparing for it. The clinic had given her a taste of what was to come, and she wanted more.

The following week, she attended the second cheer clinic with the same eagerness, determined to refine her skills. This time, she had a better grasp of the moves, and she pushed herself even harder. She felt her body growing stronger with every tumble, every flip, every lift. She wasn’t perfect, but she was getting there, and that was enough for her. The coaches seemed impressed with her progress, but Y/N was focused on the feeling she had every time she stepped onto that mat. It wasn’t about impressing anyone. It was about freedom.

“Y/N, you’re doing great!” Coach Minjae called out during a routine, his voice full of encouragement. “Keep that energy up. You’ve got what it takes.”

Those words from Coach Minjae gave her a renewed sense of purpose. It felt good to hear someone believe in her. It felt good to be seen for more than just her ability to perform on the ice.

As the days to tryouts dwindled down, Y/N knew her parents were still upset, but she had made her peace with it. They were stubborn, and so was she. She didn’t need their approval to do what made her happy. In fact, the more she thought about it, the clearer it became: if she stayed on the ice, she’d always be living under their expectations, under the weight of years of pressure. But if she took this leap—this leap into cheerleading—she would be doing it for herself. No one else.

The morning of the tryouts, Y/N woke up early, her heart pounding with nerves, but also with excitement. She stretched in her bedroom, mentally going through the moves she had practiced, running through the routine she’d put together in the past few days. She wasn’t sure if she’d make the team, but she knew she would give it everything she had.

Yunjin knocked on her door, her face bright with enthusiasm despite the early hour. "You ready for this?" she asked, grinning. "You’ve got this, I know it."

Y/N smiled back, taking a deep breath. "I think so. I’m ready."

As they arrived at the gym, the air was thick with anticipation. There were more girls than she expected, all of them looking as nervous and excited as she felt. Y/N tried to block out the thoughts of her parents’ disappointment and just focused on the task ahead. The pressure to succeed wasn’t coming from them anymore—it was coming from her. She wanted to prove to herself that she could do this.

The tryouts went by in a blur. She did everything she’d practiced—the toe touch, the hurdler, the front handspring, and the stunts. Her muscles burned from the effort, but she kept pushing herself, one move at a time, until she felt she had given her best.

When the tryouts ended, Coach Minjae gathered the girls together. "You all did a great job today," he said, his tone warm but firm. "We’ll be posting the results soon. But no matter what happens, I want you to know that each of you gave your best. That’s what matters."

Y/N waited with bated breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She was so nervous, so unsure of what the outcome would be, but at that moment, she felt a strange sense of calm. Even if she didn’t make the team, she knew she had taken the first step toward finding herself.

A few hours later, the list was posted on the bulletin board in the school’s hallway. Y/N walked toward it, her heart in her throat. She scanned the names, her fingers trembling as they traced each one until they landed on hers.

Her name was on the list. Not on JV, not on Frosh, but she was on VARSITY? 

She blinked, her eyes filling with tears before she could even process it. She had made the team. She had done it. It wasn’t just about cheerleading—it was about proving to herself that she could take control of her life. That she could make decisions for herself, regardless of what others thought.

Yunjin found her a few moments later, her arms wide open. "You did it!" she squealed, pulling Y/N into a hug. "I knew you would! You were amazing out there!"

Y/N hugged her back, overwhelmed by the sense of accomplishment. "I can’t believe it. I really did it."

And for the first time in so long, she allowed herself to believe in it too.

That night, when she returned home, Y/N wasn’t sure how to face her parents. They were still distant, still upset, but now that she had the victory of making the team, she felt stronger than ever.

When she walked into the living room, her dad barely looked up from his newspaper. Her mom was on her phone, but Y/N didn’t shy away. She stood there for a moment, gathering the courage she needed before speaking.

“I made the cheerleading team. I made the school’s Varsity team,” she said, her voice steady.

Her mom glanced up, her face unreadable. "I don’t understand why you’re doing this, Y/N."

Y/N stood tall, her shoulders back, and met her mom’s gaze. "Because I needed to do something for myself. I needed to find my own happiness. I know you don’t agree, but I’m not going to apologize for that."

Her dad finally set down his paper, looking at her with a mix of frustration and resignation. "I don’t get it, but I guess there’s nothing we can do to change your mind."

Y/N shook her head, but instead of feeling the weight of their disapproval, she felt a strange sense of peace. "No, you can’t. I’m going to make this work. You’ll see."

And for the first time in a long time, Y/N felt like she was finally walking her own path.

Y/N walked through the school’s front doors with her heart still thumping from the rush of excitement after making the cheerleading team. She had expected her parents’ disappointment, but she hadn’t expected the tight knot in her chest to linger this long. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for as she walked through the hallways—maybe just a little space to breathe, away from the weight of everything that had happened.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw him.

Sunghoon.

Of course, he was here, standing by his locker, surrounded by his friends who were laughing loudly, no doubt about something ridiculous he had said. But the moment his eyes landed on her, it was like the world narrowed to just the two of them.

There was that stupid grin.

“There’s my favorite cheerleader!” Sunghoon called out, loud enough for a few people to turn their heads in curiosity. His tone was teasing, laced with something else—something almost mocking.

Y/N’s stomach twisted. The words hit her in a way they hadn’t before. She hated how his teasing had always gotten under her skin, how it made her feel both irritated and strangely... seen. She didn’t need his approval, and yet, there was a small part of her that had always been desperate for it.

"Stop it," Y/N snapped, her eyes narrowing as she tried to keep her annoyance in check. She wasn’t going to let him win today. Not when she had finally taken control of her life, done something for herself. "You don’t even know what you’re talking about."

Sunghoon pushed off the lockers and started walking toward her, a slow, deliberate stride that made her stomach tighten even more. He wasn’t trying to provoke her in the usual way; there was something more behind this. He seemed... different today.

He stopped right in front of her, his grin softening, but only slightly. “I know exactly what I’m talking about, Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter now, teasing but with an undertone of something far too sincere for her liking. “You’re going to make an amazing cheerleader. I’m proud of you.”

Y/N blinked, the words hitting her harder than she expected. Proud? Sunghoon, of all people, proud of her? She couldn’t help but scoff, but the frustration that usually bubbled up between them felt different today—fainter, almost like it was being drowned out by something she couldn’t name.

“You’re seriously not going to stop, are you?” she shot back, her voice sharp, but even she could hear the crack in it.

“Why would I?” he teased, crossing his arms. “This is huge for you, Y/N. You’ve been skating for so long, always trying to beat me, and now you’re doing something for yourself. I’m impressed.”

Her jaw tightened. Sunghoon had always been the one to make everything a competition—always comparing them, always fighting for the spotlight, whether it was on the ice or in their lives. His constant need to be the best had always rubbed her the wrong way, and yet... when he said things like that, things that sounded so genuine, it felt like a reminder of everything they had once been. Rivals. Equals. The tension between them had always been thick, and yet here he was, proud of her, as if the rivalry meant nothing to him.

“Stop pretending like you care,” she spat, her voice rising despite herself. “You’ve always had your way, Sunghoon. Don’t act like you care about what I do now.”

Sunghoon’s face didn’t flicker with the usual defensive arrogance. Instead, there was a quiet understanding in his eyes, one that Y/N didn’t quite know how to process. He took a small step closer, dropping his arms. “I care more than you think, Y/N.”

She froze. It wasn’t the words themselves that caught her off guard—it was the way he said them, the softness in his voice that was so unlike the usual banter. He had always pushed her to the limit, always seemed to relish in their rivalry, but now he was saying something completely different. His words felt like they were cutting through the walls she’d built between them.

“Why does it always have to be this way with you?” Y/N muttered, frustration creeping into her voice. "You act like you’re so proud of me, but you’ve been my biggest obstacle from the start. All you’ve ever done is make me feel like I wasn’t good enough.”

Sunghoon tilted his head slightly, his grin fading. “Is that what you think? That I’ve been trying to make you feel bad? You really don’t get it, do you?”

Y/N’s chest tightened as she looked up at him, struggling to keep her emotions from spilling over. She hated this. Hated how he had always been the person who pushed her the hardest, who seemed to always stand in her way. But in some twisted way, she had always needed him there, because his presence kept her grounded in a rivalry that was so familiar, it felt like home.

“You don’t get it either,” she muttered, her voice thick with something she didn’t want to admit. “You’ve always been everything I wasn’t—better on the ice, more focused, more... everything. And I’ve spent my whole life trying to beat you, to prove something to you and everyone else. But now I’m trying to do something for me, and you’re just messing with me.”

Sunghoon reached out, his hand coming to rest lightly on her arm, a rare tenderness in his touch. "I’m not messing with you, Y/N. I just... I just want you to know that you don’t have to prove anything to me anymore. I’ve always been proud of you. I was just too stupid to admit it."

Y/N blinked, feeling like the floor had just shifted beneath her feet. She didn’t know how to respond. Sunghoon had always been the one to push her buttons, to make her feel like she was in a constant battle to get his attention, but this... this was different.

“I don’t need your pity,” she finally said, her voice quieter now, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface.

“I’m not pitying you,” he said gently, looking down at her, his expression more serious than she’d ever seen it. "I’ve always respected you, Y/N. Maybe I’ve shown it in the wrong ways, but I do. And for what it’s worth... I’m proud of you. I know this is a big step. You don’t have to be afraid of it.”

Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to collect herself. It was impossible to ignore how much his words were sinking in, how they made her feel exposed in a way she wasn’t ready for. She didn’t want to acknowledge how much she needed this from him, how much she secretly longed for him to say these things, even if it meant admitting that maybe the rivalry had always been more complicated than she wanted to believe.

“Whatever,” she muttered, stepping back from him, trying to reclaim her space, her walls. “I’m doing this for me. Not for you, not for anyone else.”

Sunghoon’s grin returned, though it was softer, almost like he understood the complexity of the situation better than she did. “I know. And that’s exactly why I’m proud of you.”

Y/N shook her head and turned to walk away, but she couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips, a smile that somehow only Sunghoon could coax out of her, no matter how much she hated to admit it.

It had been a whirlwind of a year, and now, standing in front of the school, Y/N couldn’t help but take it all in. Senior year had arrived, and with it, a wave of emotions—nervousness, excitement, anticipation. Not just about graduation or the impending college decisions, but the start of the cheerleading season. After months of dedication, practice, and pushing herself beyond limits, it was finally here. The rush of being part of something she loved, something she was proud of.

Cheerleading was a new chapter in her life, one that had brought her unexpected joy. She had always been good at skating, but this... this was her own thing. No pressure from her parents, no constant rivalry with Sunghoon. Just her, her team, and the excitement of starting something fresh. It felt freeing.

And then there was Sunghoon.

Their relationship had shifted in ways she hadn’t fully realized until now. They’d gone from rivals to friends to something more—a slow burn of understanding, shared glances, and late-night talks. The tension between them was still there, but it was different now. More comfortable. More affectionate. They spent weekends hanging out with their group of friends, but there were also moments where it was just the two of them. Conversations that didn’t have to be about cheer or skating, just about life. They laughed, they teased, and sometimes, they just sat in comfortable silence, a closeness that had built over time.

Y/N had always sworn she wouldn’t get involved with Sunghoon, but as the months went by, she found herself unable to ignore the undeniable pull between them. The way his eyes lingered a little longer than necessary. The way he supported her, not just as a teammate but as someone who genuinely cared. There were times when he would drop her off after practice, and their hands would brush, sending a spark of electricity through her veins. The touch would always linger just a second longer than normal, making her wonder if maybe—just maybe—he felt the same way.

Today was no different. She had just finished getting ready for practice, pulling on her uniform with a small, satisfied smile. She felt confident. Cheer had become her escape, her place of belonging, and she loved every minute of it. With her college applications in, the future was uncertain, but she was ready for whatever came next.

As she walked out of the locker room, she saw Sunghoon leaning against the bleachers, a casual smirk on his face as he checked his phone. His presence, once a source of frustration, now felt like something familiar, something she looked forward to.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked, glancing up at her with that trademark grin of his. But there was something different in his eyes—something warmer.

Y/N shot him a playful look. “Do you even have to ask? I’ve been ready since last year.”

“True,” he said, pushing off the bleachers and walking toward her. “I’m still amazed you chose cheer over skating. You’ve got the spirit, but... can you keep up with us?”

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes. “I’ve got this. I’m flexible, I can stunt, I can do flips—you name it.”

His smile softened, and for a second, Y/N saw the familiar teasing glint in his eyes, but it was paired with something else—pride, maybe? “I’m still amazed,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time. “You’ve come a long way, Y/N.”

There was something in the way he said her name. It wasn’t teasing. It wasn’t sarcastic. It was just... her. And it made her heart do a funny little flip.

“You sound like you actually care,” she teased back, nudging him playfully.

“I do,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “I’ve always cared.”

Y/N met his gaze, trying to keep her composure, but it was getting harder to ignore the way he made her feel. She wasn’t sure when things had changed between them, but now, with the closeness they shared, it was hard to separate her feelings from what they had. They were more than just teammates, more than just the awkward tension of rivals. They had become something else, something new. And maybe it wasn’t love yet, but it was something that felt just as powerful.

“You’ve been acting all proud of me lately,” Y/N teased, a slight blush creeping up her neck. “What’s up with that?”

Sunghoon’s eyes softened as he stepped closer, his playful smirk returning, though there was something more vulnerable behind it. “I guess I’m just proud of how far you’ve come. You’ve worked your ass off, Y/N. And not just for this, but for everything.”

Y/N’s heart thudded in her chest. “I didn’t expect you to say that.”

Sunghoon shrugged, his grin widening as he tried to hide the faint color in his cheeks. “I don’t always say the right things, but... yeah. I’m proud. And I’m glad you’re here with us.”

Her heart fluttered, and for a second, the noise around them—the rest of the team gathering, the chatter, the clapping—faded. It was just the two of them, standing on the edge of something new. The rivalry was still there, but now it felt like it was slowly being replaced with something else. Something better.

“Well,” she said, clearing her throat, trying to break the tension, “I’m not here to be your favorite cheerleader, Sunghoon. I’m here to kick ass.”

Sunghoon chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a mix of admiration and something more. “I’m not worried. You always kick ass.”

And there it was again—the way he looked at her, like there was something unspoken between them. Something that had been building ever since she made the decision to walk away from skating and take this leap into cheer. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to their relationship than she had ever allowed herself to believe.

“Alright, enough talking. Let’s go show them what we’ve got,” Y/N said, smiling brightly, trying to mask the fluttering in her chest.

Sunghoon gave her one last look, a soft smile curving on his lips, before nodding. “You’ve got this, Y/N.”

As they walked to the sidelines together, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that this year was going to be different. Not just because of cheerleading, but because of everything she had started to realize about herself—and about him.

The game was over, and the victory still hung in the air. The stands were filled with excitement, the sound of cheers and clapping echoing around the field. Y/N stood off to the side, quietly packing her cheer bag. She had given it her all tonight, and it felt amazing to be so connected with her team, the crowd, and the energy of the game. It was the first time in a long while she felt truly like herself—not weighed down by the pressures of ice skating, not caught in the web of family expectations. Tonight, cheerleading had been her release, her passion.

As she zipped up her bag, her thoughts drifted to Sunghoon. He’d been different lately. He’d been there for her in ways that went beyond their usual playful rivalry. She couldn’t help but feel a spark between them—a connection that she hadn’t been able to ignore, even if she’d tried. Maybe it was just her imagination, or maybe it was the thrill of the game, but she’d been hoping tonight would be different. After the game, they always hung out—grab food, catch up, talk about everything. Maybe tonight he’d say something. Something more than just the usual teasing.

Her heart fluttered at the thought.

She didn’t know why she was so desperate for something to change between them. Sunghoon had always been her rival, the person who had gotten under her skin since childhood. But now, as they had spent more time together, it was becoming clear to her that there was something more—something she wasn’t ready to admit but couldn’t quite deny.

She had always brushed it off as nothing. She had convinced herself that their connection was nothing but friendly competition. But tonight, after seeing him look at her differently, she couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same.

With her gear packed away, she glanced around, looking for Sunghoon. She smiled to herself, knowing he’d be around here somewhere. Maybe he’d find her first, maybe not. But she couldn’t shake the thought that something was different tonight, something that might finally bring them closer together.

As she walked toward the edge of the field, searching for him, a movement caught her eye. Her eyes narrowed as she saw Sunghoon standing near the edge of the bleachers, but it wasn’t just Sunghoon. There was a girl with him. At first, Y/N didn’t recognize her, but something about the way they were standing together made her stomach drop.

Sunghoon had his arms wrapped around her, and they were standing so close. The girl had her arms around his neck, and their lips were locked in a kiss. A passionate, deep kiss.

Y/N’s heart stopped in her chest. She could feel the blood drain from her face, her entire body freezing in place as her mind scrambled to make sense of what she was seeing. She didn’t move. She couldn’t. Her hands trembled as she stood there, the world around her seeming to tilt and shift. The moment stretched on forever, each second torturing her more than the last.

As the girl pulled back from the kiss, Y/N saw her face clearly for the first time. Her heart dropped even further.

It was Chaewon.

Sunghoon’s ex-girlfriend.

Y/N had heard about Chaewon before—about how they had broken up a few months ago. Chaewon had always been a part of Sunghoon’s life, and despite their breakup, she had kept a lingering presence in his world. Y/N had always felt the tension whenever Chaewon was mentioned, but she never expected it to hit this close to home. She had always thought that once Sunghoon had moved on, things would be different. But now, seeing them together like this, it was clear that whatever was left between them wasn’t over.

Her throat tightened, her vision blurring with tears she tried to blink away. She wasn’t sure why it hurt so much—why seeing them together hit her like a wrecking ball. It wasn’t like she had any claim over Sunghoon, and yet, watching them made her feel like everything she had been working toward was meaningless. All her attempts to build a connection with him, to push past their rivalry and make something more, felt like they had been a waste.

The way they kissed—how natural, how familiar it looked—told Y/N everything she needed to know. There was no space between them. They were so comfortable with each other. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a moment of intimacy, something they had shared before and likely would again.

Y/N couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t make sense of the whirlwind of emotions crashing through her. Betrayal. Hurt. Regret. And something else... Something far more painful. She had been naive to think that things could be different. She had been foolish to believe that Sunghoon would see her as more than just a rival.

Without thinking, her feet moved on their own, carrying her away from the scene. Her body was moving mechanically, too stunned to process the pain in her chest. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes, blurring her vision. She just had to get out of here.

She couldn’t stay and watch it any longer.

She needed to leave before the tears started falling, before the ache in her heart consumed her completely. As she rushed to the parking lot, she didn’t look back. She didn’t want to see them again. She didn’t want to confront the truth—that Sunghoon had never been hers to claim, and maybe, he never would be.

By the time she reached her car, her tears were already spilling over. She slammed the car door shut with more force than she intended, the sound of it echoing in the quiet parking lot. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything.

As she drove home, the streets blurred in front of her, the steady rhythm of her car tires on the pavement the only thing grounding her in reality. Her thoughts were a mess, a jumble of hurt, confusion, and disbelief.

When she reached her house, she didn’t even bother to turn off the engine. She just sat there for a moment, staring ahead, her hands gripping the steering wheel. The tears flowed freely now, the pain too raw to hide.

She had been so stupid. So stupid for hoping. For thinking she could ever be something more to him than just a rival.

With a broken heart and no more strength to pretend, Y/N stumbled out of the car, heading straight to her room. She locked the door behind her, flopping onto her bed. The tears kept coming, but she didn’t try to stop them. Tonight had been a wake-up call, and as much as it hurt, she knew it was time to let go.

The days following the game felt like an endless blur. The victory was overshadowed by the weight of what Y/N had witnessed. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Sunghoon with Chaewon, their lips locked in a kiss so full of passion it tore through her. She tried to distract herself, to immerse herself in her cheerleading practices, but it was impossible to shake the image from her mind.

At school, she avoided Sunghoon. She wasn’t ready to face him—not after what had happened. She didn’t even want to acknowledge him in the halls. The thought of seeing him made her stomach churn. It wasn’t just the betrayal, but the fact that she had been so blind to it all. She had let herself believe that the rivalry, the teasing, even the moments where their gazes lingered just a bit longer than necessary, meant something more than what they were.

Her thoughts were consumed by what she had seen. She was devastated, angry at herself for letting her guard down, angry at him for leading her on. And then, there was the bitterness that had begun to seep into her heart. How could he just move on so easily? How could he kiss Chaewon, the girl he had supposedly broken up with months ago, and make it look so natural?

It felt like betrayal on every level. He hadn’t even said anything to her about it. No explanation. No warning. She had spent so much time focused on their growing closeness, convinced that something real was blooming between them, and it had all been for nothing.

Monday came, and with it, another school day. Y/N walked into the hallways with her head down, trying her best to ignore the whispers. She had heard people talk. Her teammates, classmates, even teachers. Everyone was buzzing about the cheer game, her flawless performance. But for her, it felt like the cheers and claps were just empty sounds. No matter how many times people told her she had been amazing, the words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

The hallway felt suffocating as Y/N stormed off after her heated exchange with Sunghoon. Her footsteps echoed against the lockers as she kept walking, refusing to look back. She could still feel the sting of what she’d seen—the kiss between Sunghoon and Chaewon—burning in her chest. It felt like the world was closing in on her, and she was desperate to escape the suffocating reality of it all.

But just as she thought she could distance herself, she heard his voice again.

"Y/N, wait!"

She froze mid-step, her heart racing as she turned slowly. He was standing a few feet away, his expression desperate, his eyes wide with a mixture of concern and frustration. His usual confident demeanor was gone, replaced with something more vulnerable—something that made Y/N’s heart ache even more than it already did.

"I—" Sunghoon started, running a hand through his hair, his voice faltering. "I know you’re upset, but please, just let me explain. I never wanted you to see that. I never wanted you to think—"

"To think what, Sunghoon?" Y/N interrupted, her voice shaking with both anger and hurt. "That you were still in love with Chaewon? That you were going to just pick up where you left off with her? Is that it? Is that what I saw?"

He winced at her words, the pain in her voice hitting him harder than he expected. But he didn’t give up. He took a step forward, his gaze filled with sincerity, almost pleading.

"No, that’s not it at all," he said quickly. "It’s just... Y/N, please listen. What you saw was a mistake. A huge mistake. It wasn’t—"

"A mistake?" she repeated bitterly, her eyes flashing with disbelief. "You think that kiss was a mistake?"

He winced, the words clearly hurting him as much as they hurt her. He had never imagined that something like this would drive a wedge between them. "Yes," he said quietly, the weight of the word settling between them. "It was a mistake. A moment of weakness, a moment where I didn’t know what I was doing. But it doesn’t mean what you think it means. Chaewon and I... we had our history, but it was over. And I—"

"You kissed her," Y/N spat, her voice trembling. "How is that 'over'? How can you tell me that now, after everything, after all the time we’ve spent together, that it doesn’t mean anything?"

Sunghoon took another step toward her, his frustration building, but he kept his voice soft, trying to remain calm. He wasn’t ready to lose her—not after everything. Not when he was just beginning to realize how deeply he had felt for her all along.

"Y/N, listen to me," he said, voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know how to explain this, but you’ve got to know that I wasn’t thinking when I kissed her. It wasn’t because I want her back or because I still care about her in that way. It was... I don’t know, maybe it was just familiarity. But I don’t want her. I want you."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering against her chest. She stared at him, disbelieving, as the words she had always wanted to hear from him finally fell from his lips. But there was still a part of her that couldn’t trust it. She wasn’t sure she could ever fully trust him again after what she’d seen.

"Why now?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Why are you saying this now, after everything? After the way you've treated me, after all those months of us pretending we were just rivals? Why does it matter now?"

Sunghoon's face softened, and he closed the distance between them, his eyes pleading with her to understand. "Because I was an idiot," he said, his voice rough. "I didn’t realize how much you meant to me until it was almost too late. I’ve been pushing you away, and I didn’t even know why. But I’ve been stupid, Y/N. You were always more than just a rival to me, more than just someone I wanted to beat. But I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought I had to stay in that stupid competition with you, that I had to keep up this stupid rivalry, and it kept me from seeing what was right in front of me."

Y/N’s heart twisted at his words. Part of her wanted to believe him—wanted to believe that all the moments they’d shared had meant something more. But the part of her that had been burned by his actions was reluctant to let go of the hurt.

"You’re telling me this now?" she asked, her voice cracking. "You’re telling me that after everything, after all the times you made me feel like I was nothing more than a challenge for you, that you actually care? That you’ve always cared?"

Sunghoon’s face fell, guilt and regret clouding his features. "I know I screwed up. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry. But it’s the truth. I care about you, Y/N. I always have. I just... I was too proud, too scared, to admit it. I was so caught up in the competition with you, in trying to win everything, that I didn’t realize that winning you, winning your heart, was the one thing I actually wanted."

Y/N felt her heart ache at his words. She wanted to say something, anything to make the pain stop, but her emotions were all over the place. She had wanted this. She had wanted him to confess, to tell her that she wasn’t just the girl he fought against, but someone he actually cared for. But hearing it now—after everything, after the kiss with Chaewon—it didn’t feel like enough.

"You can’t just erase what you did," she said quietly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "You can’t just tell me it was a mistake and expect me to forget the way it made me feel."

"I know," Sunghoon said softly, his voice full of regret. "And I wouldn’t ask you to. But I’m asking you to let me make it right. Please. You mean so much more to me than anything else. I’ve been an idiot, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to prove to you that you’re the one I want. Please, Y/N, don’t shut me out. Let me show you how much you really mean to me."

Y/N stood there, her chest tight with conflicting emotions. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to forgive him, to take a leap of faith and trust that he wasn’t lying. But a part of her still held onto the hurt, the pain of seeing him with someone else, so easily slipping back into his past. It wasn’t something she could just erase.

"I need time, Sunghoon," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I need time to figure this out. I don’t know if I can just forget everything, even if I want to."

He nodded, his eyes filled with pain and understanding. "I’ll wait, Y/N. I’ll wait as long as it takes. But please know that I’m not giving up on you. I care about you more than you know."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Y/N standing there, her heart a mix of emotions she couldn’t fully process. The words were there, but the pain lingered, and she didn’t know if she could ever truly forgive him. But she also knew that something between them had shifted—that maybe, just maybe, Sunghoon was ready to be the person she needed him to be.

But for now, all she could do was walk away and try to figure out what she really wanted from this complicated mess they’d created.

It had been a week since the confrontation. A week since Y/N had given Sunghoon the space he had begged for. The days had passed in a haze, with her emotions swirling between confusion, bitterness, and—if she was being honest with herself—hope. She had spent the first few days in silence, avoiding Sunghoon, keeping herself busy with cheerleading practice and her schoolwork.

But deep down, she couldn’t ignore the pull. Sunghoon had always been a part of her life, a constant. Even during their rivalry, there had been a connection—something more than just competition. And now that the veil had been pulled back, she saw it all more clearly. But she wasn’t sure if she was ready to forgive him, not completely.

It was another practice session at school, the sun beginning to set outside as Y/N and her cheer squad went through their routines. The atmosphere was full of energy as they prepared for the next game, but for Y/N, her focus was elsewhere. Every flip, every jump, felt like she was doing it to distract herself from the thoughts of Sunghoon.

She landed a perfect high kick, but the applause of her teammates felt distant. Her mind wandered back to him—his words, his confession. "I care about you more than you know." He’d said that, and yet she hadn’t heard from him since their last talk. There had been no texts, no attempts to check in. It was as though he was giving her the space she needed… but was it enough?

Just as the session was winding down, Y/N gathered her things and headed toward the locker room. She was just about to step inside when she heard someone call her name.

"Y/N."

Her breath caught, and she froze. She turned slowly, heart thudding in her chest.

There, standing by the gym doors, was Sunghoon. His usual cocky grin was replaced by a serious, almost vulnerable expression. The sight of him pulled something deep inside her—anger, hope, frustration—all at once.

"I… I’ve been waiting for you to talk to me," he said quietly, his hands in his pockets. "I know you need time, but I can’t just pretend like everything’s fine. I’ve been thinking about what I said—about what happened—and I know I messed up. I know I hurt you."

Y/N took a deep breath. She had been avoiding him, afraid of what seeing him would bring up. But now, faced with him again, it was harder than she’d imagined.

"I don’t know if you can fix this," Y/N said, her voice steady but tinged with pain. "I don’t know if I can just forgive you, Sunghoon. It’s not that simple. You hurt me. And you made me believe that what we had… that it was real. Only to see you with Chaewon. It felt like everything we had was a lie."

Sunghoon’s face tightened with guilt. "I never meant for you to feel that way. You’re not a lie. None of this was a lie. I’ve been a fool for a long time, letting this rivalry between us get in the way of what really matters. I didn’t want to admit it, but what we have—it’s different. And I’ve been trying so hard to make sense of everything, and I think I’ve finally realized that I’m not just fighting with you. I’m fighting for you. I always have been."

Y/N swallowed, her heart aching with the raw honesty in his voice. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to believe it, but she couldn’t ignore the sincerity in his eyes. The same eyes that had watched her with a mix of admiration and rivalry for so long.

"You’re not just a competition to me anymore, Y/N," Sunghoon continued, his voice softer now. "I’m not asking you to forgive me right away. But I need you to know that I’ve been thinking about you, about what I want, and I want to be with you. Not as rivals. Not as something fleeting. I want this to be real."

It took time. More time than either of them expected, but slowly, Sunghoon and Y/N started to rebuild what they had. It wasn’t easy. There were moments when Y/N would catch herself pulling away, moments when she would doubt if she could truly trust him again. But Sunghoon was patient. He didn’t push her for more than she was ready to give, and he showed up for her—at every game, at every practice, supporting her like he always should have. He was there, proving his commitment through his actions, not just his words.

One afternoon, after a long cheer practice, Y/N sat down on the bleachers, exhausted but satisfied with the day’s progress. She was still thinking about the conversation they’d had earlier in the week, when Sunghoon had told her he was trying to be better, trying to show her that he wasn’t the guy who had kissed Chaewon.

"Hey."

She looked up to see him walking toward her, his smile warm but his expression serious.

"Hey," she replied softly, her heart fluttering just a little.

"I know this is a lot to ask, but…" He hesitated, his usual confidence wavering for a moment. "Do you want to hang out? I’ve been meaning to take you somewhere—something special. I want to make it up to you."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Something special, huh?"

Sunghoon smiled, a little sheepish but genuine. "Yeah. We don’t have to talk about everything, and we don’t have to rush into anything, but… I just want you to know how much you mean to me."

Her heart fluttered in her chest, and a part of her—the part that had always cared about him—softened. Maybe this could work. Maybe they didn’t have to rush into a perfect relationship, but they could take the time to rebuild something real. Maybe she was ready to let go of the past and trust him again.

"Alright," she said, standing up slowly. "Show me what you’ve got, Sunghoon."

He grinned, relieved, and extended his hand to her. She took it, feeling a strange sense of peace settle in her chest. This wasn’t going to be easy. But maybe they could make it work, one step at a time.

As they walked together, Y/N realized something. There was no perfect ending. There was no clear answer to what they would be in the future. But there was the chance for a new beginning. A chance to rewrite the story, to make their own path, without the rivalry, without the games.

Just the two of them.

And that was all she needed for now.

The following weekend, Sunghoon picked Y/N up in his car, the nervous energy between them palpable. She had agreed to go with him, though there was still a cautiousness in her heart—an echo of the pain she felt from everything that had happened between them. But as soon as she slid into the passenger seat, the familiar scent of his cologne and the soft hum of the car made something stir within her. It was like the past few weeks hadn’t happened, like they were just two friends hanging out again.

"Where are we going?" Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued as she buckled her seatbelt.

"It’s a surprise," Sunghoon said, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he glanced at her, then quickly returned his attention to the road. "But trust me, you’ll like it."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. "You’re full of surprises lately."

He laughed, the sound light and genuine, and for the first time in a while, Y/N felt something akin to ease in his presence. It was nice to be in a space where there was no tension, no expectations. Just them, figuring it out as they went.

They drove for a while, the city passing by in a blur. Eventually, Sunghoon pulled into a parking lot near the edge of town, next to a small, cozy café with string lights twinkling outside. The atmosphere was quiet and relaxed, completely different from the usual hustle and bustle of their lives. It was almost like he’d chosen this place for its peaceful energy—a place where they could both just breathe.

Sunghoon turned off the engine and glanced over at Y/N, his expression more vulnerable than she was used to seeing.

"Here we are," he said softly, smiling nervously. "I thought we could have some time to just… talk, away from everything."

Y/N didn’t say anything right away. She just looked at him, studying the sincerity in his eyes. There was something so different about him now—a rawness, an openness that made her want to give him this chance, despite everything that had happened.

"Okay," she finally said, giving him a small smile. "I’m in."

The café was a small, intimate place, with walls lined with bookshelves and an earthy, rustic feel. The faint smell of fresh coffee and pastries filled the air, and the soft music playing in the background created a warm, inviting atmosphere. They sat by a window, the light of the late afternoon spilling across the wooden table, casting soft shadows around them.

As they ordered their drinks—Y/N opting for a chai latte and Sunghoon going for his usual black coffee—they sat in silence for a moment, both unsure of where to start. Y/N fiddled with the edge of her cup, her fingers nervously tracing the rim. She wasn’t sure what to say, what to feel. This was the first time they’d been alone together like this since everything had happened.

"I guess we should start by... apologizing," Sunghoon said, breaking the silence. He sounded hesitant, unsure of what would make things right. "I really messed up, Y/N. I know I’ve said it a hundred times, but I’m sorry. I hurt you, and I shouldn’t have."

Y/N nodded slowly, her eyes focused on her drink as she took a sip. The warmth of the chai settled in her chest, but it didn’t ease the ache she still carried. "You did," she said softly, her voice steady but still tinged with the lingering hurt. "But… I know it wasn’t easy for you either. I get that you were confused. I just… I don’t know if I can just forgive and forget that quickly."

Sunghoon leaned forward slightly, his gaze intense but gentle. "I don’t expect you to. I just need you to know that I’m trying, Y/N. I really want to make this right. I’m not asking you to rush into anything. I just want a chance to show you that I’m not the same guy I was before."

Y/N stared at him for a long moment, reading the honesty in his eyes, feeling the weight of his words. It wasn’t the confession she had imagined in her head—there were no grand gestures or promises. But it felt real. And for the first time in a long while, she thought maybe—just maybe—they could rebuild something.

After a long pause, Y/N exhaled, her shoulders relaxing. "I think… I think I can start trusting you again. But it’s going to take time. I need you to show me that you really mean it."

Sunghoon’s face lit up with a quiet, relieved smile. "I can do that. I’ll show you. I’ll prove it to you, Y/N."

After finishing their drinks, they decided to take a walk through the nearby park. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue across the trees and paths. The air was crisp, and the autumn leaves crunched beneath their feet as they walked side by side, not talking much, but simply enjoying each other's presence.

It felt easy, in a way. Natural, almost. Like they were falling back into a rhythm they’d once had, before everything had gotten complicated.

"You know," Sunghoon said after a while, breaking the silence, "I’ve missed this. Just hanging out, without all the stress."

Y/N glanced at him, surprised. "Missed what?"

"This," he said, gesturing between them with a small smile. "Just talking. Having fun. It didn’t always have to be about competition, did it?"

Y/N smiled slightly, a soft laugh escaping her. "No, I guess not."

They stopped walking by a bench, where Sunghoon motioned for them to sit. They sat down, a comfortable silence falling between them once again.

"Y/N, I’ve been thinking a lot about everything we’ve been through," Sunghoon continued, his voice more serious now. "And I just… I want you to know that I’m done with pretending. I’m done with the games. I don’t care about the titles, the trophies, or the rivalry anymore. All I care about is you."

Y/N felt a flutter in her chest at his words. She couldn’t deny it any longer—the pull toward him, the way he made her feel like she was the only person in the world that mattered. It was confusing, but in this quiet moment, with the sun setting around them, it felt right. She wanted to let go of the past, wanted to take a leap of faith.

"Maybe we can take it slow," Y/N said, her voice soft but sure. "No rushing, no expectations. Just… us."

Sunghoon smiled, a real smile this time, full of warmth and hope. "Slow sounds perfect."

They sat there, side by side, in the fading light, not needing words to fill the space. Everything felt different now—more real, more honest. The future wasn’t perfect, but for the first time, Y/N felt like they were headed in the right direction. Together.

As the weeks passed, Y/N and Sunghoon found themselves slipping into a new rhythm. The tension that had once lingered between them seemed to dissipate, replaced by something more comfortable, more genuine. Their interactions, once laced with rivalry and unspoken feelings, were now filled with easy laughter, quiet moments, and a growing sense of partnership. They had started to spend more time together outside of school and practice, and every little interaction—whether it was a shared lunch or a quiet walk through the park—seemed to stitch the torn fabric of their relationship back together.

Y/N found herself thinking about him more often. She thought about his grin, the way he made her feel like she was capable of anything, even when her doubts crept in. She thought about how he had apologized, how he had tried to show her that he was truly sorry. Slowly, but surely, her walls started to come down. She was letting him back in. She wanted to.

As cheer season continued, Y/N’s confidence began to grow. Her skills on the mat were improving, and with every cheer routine she perfected, her pride in herself swelled. Sunghoon, always the ever-supportive figure, attended every game, sitting in the stands with his friends, cheering louder for her than anyone else. His presence in the crowd always gave her a sense of calm, like she wasn’t performing for the crowd but for him, the person who saw her as more than just a rival, more than just a cheerleader.

One evening, after a particularly intense practice, Y/N was on her way to the locker room when she spotted Sunghoon waiting by the gym doors. His face broke into a grin when he saw her, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

"Another perfect routine," he said with admiration, falling into step beside her as they walked down the hallway together. "You’re amazing, Y/N."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shook her head. "I still have so much to work on, but… thank you. You’ve been such a huge support. I don’t know if I could’ve made it this far without you."

Sunghoon smiled, nudging her shoulder playfully. "Well, you know I’m always here to push you to be your best." Then, he turned serious for a moment, his expression softening. "And I’m really proud of you. I’ve always been proud of you, Y/N."

The sincerity in his voice made her heart flutter, and she found herself gazing at him a little longer than usual. It wasn’t just admiration anymore. There was something deeper in his words, something that made her chest tighten with affection.

"Thanks, Sunghoon," she whispered, before looking away to hide the flush creeping up her neck. "I’m proud of you too."

One of the more unexpected parts of their developing relationship was how easy it was to just be with Sunghoon. They didn’t always need to do something exciting or extravagant. Sometimes, just being in each other’s presence was enough.

One night, after a long week of school and practice, Sunghoon invited Y/N over to his place. He promised it would be low-key, just a quiet night in—no expectations, no pressure. Y/N had agreed, and when she arrived at his house, she found him in his living room, lounging on the couch, holding two mugs of hot chocolate.

"I hope you’re not expecting a fancy dinner," he said, offering her one of the mugs with a teasing smile. "I’m not that good at cooking."

Y/N laughed as she took the mug, feeling the warmth seep into her fingers. "This is perfect," she said, sinking into the couch beside him. "It’s been a crazy week."

They spent the next few hours talking, sharing stories, and watching a random movie on TV. There was something effortlessly comfortable about the way they interacted now—no forced conversation, no awkward silences. They just existed together in a way that felt natural, like this was always meant to be.

At one point, they both found themselves leaning against each other, the weight of the day melting away. Sunghoon’s arm casually draped over the back of the couch, his hand just inches from hers. The proximity made her heart flutter, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let herself enjoy the moment, letting the warmth between them settle.

When the movie ended, Sunghoon turned to her, his eyes soft but searching. "I know we’re not rushing into anything, but I just… I really want you to know that I care about you. I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone."

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat. She hadn’t expected him to say something so open, so vulnerable. Her heart raced, but this time it wasn’t from uncertainty. It was from something much more comforting—certainty.

"I care about you too, Sunghoon," she said, her voice steady but full of feeling. "More than I thought I would. And I’m… I’m glad we’re doing this. I think we’re finally getting it right."

Sunghoon smiled softly, his hand finally reaching for hers. Their fingers brushed, then intertwined, and for the first time in a long while, Y/N felt a sense of peace. This wasn’t perfect, and they still had a lot to work through, but they were doing it together. And that made all the difference.

It was a few weeks later, during a late-night practice for an upcoming cheer event. The team was exhausted, but their spirits were high. The season had been going well, and everyone was looking forward to the next big game. After practice, Y/N and Sunghoon found themselves alone in the gym, tying up loose ends and catching up.

"You’re really good at this," Sunghoon said, leaning against the wall as he watched her pack her bag. "I mean, I knew you were talented, but seeing you in action, it’s… it’s impressive."

Y/N smiled, zipping up her bag. "Thanks, Sunghoon. I’ve been practicing a lot."

There was a pause as she turned to him, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before she looked away, her cheeks flushing. The chemistry between them had been undeniable for weeks now, but neither of them had made the first move. They had danced around it, unsure of how to bridge the gap between friends and something more.

Sunghoon, sensing the tension, stepped closer to her, his heart racing. "Y/N," he said, his voice low, "I’ve been wanting to do this for a while."

She looked up at him, their faces inches apart now. The world outside the gym seemed to fade away as he leaned in slowly, his breath mingling with hers. "What if we just… don’t wait anymore?"

Before she could respond, Sunghoon kissed her—a gentle, tentative kiss at first, but one that deepened quickly as they both leaned into it. It was everything she had hoped for, and more. A slow-burning kiss that spoke of all the feelings they’d kept hidden for so long.

When they pulled apart, their foreheads pressed together, and Sunghoon’s voice was soft as he whispered, "I’m so glad we’re doing this."

Y/N smiled, a sense of contentment filling her chest. "Me too."

And for the first time in a long while, Y/N felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be. With him.

The air was crisp, and the stadium lights illuminated the field as the last football game of the season kicked off. It was Senior Night, and Y/N could hardly believe how quickly the time had passed. Her heart swelled with pride as she stood on the sidelines in her cheer uniform, the crowd roaring with excitement behind her. This was it—the culmination of everything she had worked for in the cheerleading world. Her last game as a cheerleader. Her final performance under the bright lights.

She had spent years perfecting every routine, every move, and now, as she stood on the field, surrounded by her teammates, she could finally take it all in. The cheers, the adrenaline, the feeling of unity—it was everything she had dreamed of when she first joined the squad.

Y/N glanced over at the football team, watching the players huddling together as they prepared for the next play. Her eyes searched for Sunghoon, who was among them, focused and ready to take the field. Their eyes met for a brief moment across the distance, and he gave her a subtle but loving wink. A smile immediately tugged at her lips.

He’s always been there for me, she thought, her heart swelling with affection. After everything they’d been through, this moment felt perfect. He had become so much more than just the guy she once competed against. He was her teammate in a different way now, someone who stood by her side in the quiet moments and the loud ones.

As the game continued, Y/N’s cheer squad took their places, moving into position for the halftime performance. Her body was on autopilot now, moving through the routine with the precision she’d honed over the years. But even in the midst of the complicated stunts and routines, her mind couldn’t help but wander back to Sunghoon. Every time she locked eyes with him from across the field, there was a flicker of something between them—a spark of connection that made her heart race in the best way.

The cheerleaders executed their routines flawlessly, the crowd roaring with excitement. Y/N’s smile was bright, her energy contagious, as she nailed each move. There was no mistaking it—this was her night. She was living her dream, and she was doing it with a sense of ease she had never known before. And it felt like Sunghoon was right there beside her, not just physically, but emotionally, too. He had always been her competitor, but now, he was her support system, her person.

During the brief breaks in between routines, when the cheerleaders rushed to hydrate or fix their hair, Y/N couldn’t resist sneaking glances at Sunghoon. He was always nearby, his attention never straying far from her. And each time their eyes met, it was like a silent agreement passed between them. No words, just understanding.

In the chaos of the halftime festivities, when everyone was distracted by the excitement of the game, Sunghoon took his chance. He caught up with Y/N near the locker rooms, his face lighting up as he saw her standing alone, her breath quick from the performance.

"Hey angel," he said softly, his hand brushing against hers as he stepped closer. "You were amazing out there."

"Thanks," Y/N replied, her heart fluttering at his proximity. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body, the comfort of his presence in the midst of the chaotic night.

Before she could say anything else, Sunghoon leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a quick, sweet kiss. It was brief, but full of meaning—an unspoken acknowledgment of how far they’d come, how much they had shared. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she pulled away slightly, her lips curling into a grin.

"You’re distracting me," she teased, her voice soft but playful.

Sunghoon chuckled, his gaze never leaving hers. "I’ll be more distracting later. I promise." He winked, then gave her hand a gentle squeeze before stepping back to give her space.

It was moments like this that made Y/N feel like everything was finally falling into place. The chaos of the game, the lights, the pressure—it all melted away when she was with him.

As the game neared its end, Y/N could feel the excitement building. It was a tight game, but her team was winning. The energy in the stadium was electric, and Y/N’s heart raced with each cheer she led, each chant she screamed. The crowd’s energy was contagious, but nothing compared to the feeling of having Sunghoon watching from the sidelines, cheering her on like he always had.

And then, as the final seconds ticked down and the whistle blew to signify the victory, the cheerleaders took their last position of the night. Y/N’s eyes immediately found Sunghoon’s, his smile wide and proud as he stood with his teammates, their arms around each other in celebration.

The cheerleaders had finished their routine, and they were all celebrating, laughing and hugging. But before Y/N could join her teammates, Sunghoon was already by her side, pulling her into a tight hug.

"You did it," he whispered into her ear, his voice thick with emotion. "I’m so proud of you, Y/N."

Y/N closed her eyes, her heart swelling with a mix of happiness and relief. "We did it," she said softly, pulling back slightly to look at him. "I couldn’t have done it without you."

Sunghoon smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "We make a pretty good team, huh?"

Y/N laughed, her fingers grazing his cheek as she nodded. "The best team."

As the crowd cheered and her teammates surrounded her, Y/N felt like she was standing at the pinnacle of something important. The night was perfect, the game was won, and for the first time, she wasn’t just proud of her accomplishments. She was proud of how far she had come, and of the person she was becoming—with Sunghoon by her side.

And in that moment, she realized: it wasn’t just the victory that made this night unforgettable. It was the journey that had led her here—the friendships, the growth, and the love she had finally allowed herself to feel. 

As she started packing her things on the sideline, a warm, content smile spread across her face. Her team was still buzzing with excitement, and she felt a deep sense of belonging. She was where she was supposed to be.

But then, she noticed something odd.

She looked around to find that the crowd—well, the few people still lingering—had their phones out, pointed at her. She raised an eyebrow, confused knitting her brows. What was going on?

Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes swept across the field, trying to make sense of the situation. And that’s when she saw it.

There, in the middle of the field, stood Sunghoon. He wasn’t just standing there, though—he was holding a large, hand-painted sign that made Y/N’s breath catch in her throat. The sign read:

“I’d love to skate into your heart. Will you be my girlfriend?”

She gasped, her hand faltering as she held her bag. The words were like a punch to the gut—one full of excitement, surprise, and something that felt too big to fully comprehend in that moment. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest, the realization slowly sinking in. The sign, the words, the fact that Sunghoon—her rival, her friend, the person who had always pushed her buttons in all the wrong ways—was standing there, asking her to be his girlfriend.

Her mouth went dry, her eyes darting to the faces around her, all waiting for her reaction. The noise of the crowd around her seemed to fade away, and all she could focus on was Sunghoon, standing there, his usual teasing grin replaced with something a little more serious, a little more vulnerable.

She had known him for years, and she had seen him be cocky, confident, and sometimes even a little arrogant, but this... this was different. There was no smirk, no playful edge to his eyes. This was Sunghoon, laying his heart on the line, exposing himself in a way she hadn’t expected.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Y/N blinked and then, before she even realized it, she was moving. Her legs felt like they were moving on their own, carrying her toward him without any real thought. As she got closer, she could see the faint pink tint on Sunghoon’s cheeks, and it made her smile—a smile that she couldn’t control. The walls she’d built between them, the rivalry, the hurt, it all seemed to disappear with each step.

He was waiting for her, and when their eyes met, his smile widened just a fraction, though he still seemed to be holding his breath, unsure of her response.

The moment stretched on, the world slowing down around them. Y/N didn’t know what to say at first. She wanted to laugh, to shout, to tell him this was all insane... but all that came out was a breathless, “Sunghoon… what the hell?”

His smile faltered for a moment, and he quickly tried to recover. “I know it’s a little... dramatic, but I figured it was time to stop pretending,” he said, his voice teasing, but there was a nervousness in it too. He shifted his weight, as though unsure of what to do with his hands, before letting the sign dangle a little lower. “I’ve been holding this in for too long. Just... I don’t know. I had to ask.”

Y/N’s heart raced. She couldn’t deny how the words made her feel—like a wave of warmth and excitement washing over her. She had spent so long fighting her feelings for Sunghoon, pushing him away, telling herself she didn’t need this, didn’t need him. But now, standing here in front of him, with that sign, with everything that had led up to this moment, she realized it wasn’t something she could run from anymore.

She wasn’t even sure what she was supposed to say, how she could even begin to process this. Her mind was a blur of thoughts—of their history, of the rivalry that had always been there, of the way they’d grown closer in ways she hadn’t expected. But more than anything, she knew she couldn’t ignore the way she felt about him.

“Sunghoon…” she began, her voice soft. The crowd was still watching, waiting, but she didn’t care. This was just between them, no one else. “You’re serious?”

He nodded, the smile returning to his face, though now it was more hopeful, a little vulnerable. “More serious than I’ve ever been.”

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling the weight of everything crash down on her. This was it—the moment she had spent so long avoiding. She didn’t know where it would lead, or how things would turn out. But as she looked at him, standing there, waiting for her answer, she realized she couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Yes,” she whispered, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Sunghoon’s face lit up, his eyes sparkling with joy, and he took a step closer, lowering the sign in his hands and pulling her into a hug. Y/N laughed as she was enveloped in his arms, feeling a rush of emotions she couldn’t quite describe. He squeezed her tight, and for a moment, it felt like everything had finally fallen into place.

As the crowd erupted into cheers and applause, Y/N knew that this was just the beginning of something new. Something unexpected. But for the first time in a long while, she felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

AND THATS A WRAP!!

© luvoooenha on tumblr 2025. please don’t copy, repost, or translate my works! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :)

[alllgator-blood]

PINNED POST TIME! I figured I should make one because I do comics, and I kinda gave up on linking all the parts in the description cause it got annoying.

Soooo...click "read more" to get links to all my comic pages in chronological order! This doesn't include shitposts for the most part but I added the untitled/short ones at the very bottom

My comics in order of when they occur!

I name every comic after song lyrics, but the song rarely has anything to do with the actual comic, felt the need to link them anyway though

'IT'S JUST A BURNING MEMORY'

A short while after the schism happened, Leshy starts to become frustrated with how Kallamar and Heket seem to be hiding Shamura from him. They try to convince him that Shamura isn't ready for visitors, but he slips past their defenses and goes to visit Shamura himself...only to realize his oldest sibling doesn't seem to remember him.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5)

(title is from Heartaches by Al Bowlly)

'THE UNPAYABLE DEBT THAT I OWE YOU'

Kallamar hasn't gotten a break from their duties for quite some time, and figures they've done enough good deeds for the family to earn a day off. But as more responsibilities pile up, more of the family gets hurt, more research needs to get done, Kall realizes they maybe won't ever catch a break.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5)

(title is from Kettering by The Antlers)

'IN LITTLE WAYS, EVERYTHING STAYS'

Leshy is having a good time on his way to a checkup, but accidentally sees his reflection for the first time since his eyes were removed. He ends up talking to Kallamar about it, and the two have a discussion about what it means to feel like a replica of the person you once were rather than the same person.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

(title is from Everything Stays sung by Olivia Olson)

'FOGGY STREETS AND CHRISTMAS LIGHTS'

Leshy throws a Yule party after many years of the family not celebrating it, but it's not really as joyful as any of the siblings hoped it'd be. Heket is drinking a lot, Kallamar is wearing their iconic fake smile, and Shamura is physically present but mentally absent. Leshy, trying to stave off a meltdown, starts to play a song that ends up being familiar to the entire family.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

(title is from Classic J Dies And Goes To Hell by Glass Beach)

'TAKE ME SOMEWHERE NICE'

The party is winding down. Shamura is tired, Heket and Leshy are rowdy, and Kallamar decides to put his sibling to bed in the guest room. But while Shamura seems happy and fairly lucid, the conversation turns dark quickly as they ask Kallamar to promise them something.

(full comic)

(title is from Take Me Somewhere Nice by Mogwai)

'YOU AIN'T AS YOUNG AS YOU USED TO BE'

After Kallamar was found unconscious on their bedroom floor, they decided from that point on that rest + relaxation were mandatory for the entire family. Heket begrudgingly agrees to take it easy for a single day to appease her sibling, but only then remembers why she wouldn't allow herself rest. Plagued by visions of Shamura's atrophying body, she returns to Anura and tries to work like normal, quickly realizing her own body isn't holding together well either.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (THIS ONE'S UNFINISHED, I didn't like the original ending so I'll get back to it someday!! Part 4 is pretty much complete I just haven't posted it yet)

(title is from It Might Be Time by Tame Impala)

'I WENT BACK AND WISHED I HADN'T'

Shamura, suddenly remembering a promise they made to Narinder many thousands of years ago, begins to look for him in the temple to finish a game of hide-and-seek. They grow increasingly confused as they struggle to find him, but swear they caught a glimpse of him when they walked in...

(part 1) (part 2)

(title is from The Moon by The Microphones)

'YOU'RE ALL I NEED'

After Shamura's breakdown over not remembering why Narinder is gone, Kallamar checks on them and is hurt by them accidentally. Heket happens to come by right as Kall is trying to leave, and the three simultaneously grapple with the memory of the schism in different ways. But despite the tension in the temple and the two most composed bishops being mentally incapacitated, Heket pulls it together long enough to help Kallamar out of a dissociative episode.

(part 1) (part 2)

(title is from All I Need by Radiohead)

'KIDS THAT I ONCE KNEW'

In the Lamb's cult, they and Leshy are kept awake by a screaming baby caterpillar who can't seem to be sated. They get into an argument with him, wandering off and not realizing until it's too late that the ex-god of war has managed to make off with the baby...and seems to find that it looks very familiar to them.

(full comic)

(title is from Dead Hearts by Stars)

the song is kinda "stomp clap hey" coded but I found it in a warrior cat AMV when I was a preteen and the lyric DID fit the comic, so....

'WE COULD BE HAPPY, YOU AND ME'

After a pretty average day in the Lamb's cult, the Lamb winds down and starts going over everything they've accomplished thus far. Shamura wanders in and seems to be talking crazy, as usual, but asks a simple question that begins to break the Lamb down quicker than any threat or attack ever has: "are you okay?"

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

(title is from Apple Pie by The Scary Jokes)

ASSORTED RANDOM COMICS THAT ARE UNTITLED BUT ARE STILL WORTH BEING ON THIS MASTERPOST:

The very first angst comic I ever did, about that "five becomes four becomes..." dialogue shamura has

The shamura-explains-their-gender comic

Two-panel comic about shamura telling the younger sibs a story, and then being told the same story in the future

Comic about heket someday being strong enough to carry shamura

Comic where the lamb abuses the shit out of the bishops in the cult, but gives shamura a break for some inexplicable reason

Comic where Narinder gives his siblings a little gift as reparations for his fucking war crimes against them

[refeverie]

only with you.

angst & comfort. gn!reader × wanderer. wc 1.7k

summary. non-sexual nudity & intimacy; body painting with flowers; recollection of past events (wanderer)

sumeru is a dualistic region. where knowledge and reincarnation richly seep through every concept there is, it would still not exist without any ignorance, nor destruction. one needs another to thrive. 

wanderer himself is a dual man—a human being without an organic heart yet a puppet with feelings. somebody, who had multiple names throughout. somebody, who once had a mother; friends. somebody, who was given a midway place in this world across his journey. as a wanderer, he is said to have no name, kin, or destination.

maybe there is a definite reason for him to spend the majority of his time in sumeru after all. as he originated from inazuma, a land of isolated eternity, spent years at the claws of the notorious nation of snezhnaya and—seeking his ascension to godhood, eventual prosperity, and validation at last—was forced into flimsy redemption in sumeru.

wanderer self-destructed his ignorance to reincarnate it as full of knowledge; to shape his existence anew. all of this for him to question himself and suffer the same.

the sacred tree of the world—irminsul—answered the questions he always sought and yet, he was betrayed once again. wisdom is a heavy burden with a great cost; it could be one’s demise. ignorance to him was, indeed, a bliss. as well as oblivion, which he was stripped of in a little of a while. 

since the day he had to relive his entire lifetime in a minute and earned an anemo vision in the process, the world around him changed. in fact, he met you, who made a significant change to his demeanor. wanderer may not be the best companion there is, however, you both always seek each other in a crowd. even if there is none of it.

the sunset is pretty today, you think as you immerse yourself up to the chin into the lukewarm water underneath the waterfall of gandharva ville. wanderer remained apart from you for a while. he was hesitant. he may have a synthetic body of a puppet, but being stark naked in front of you felt way too vulnerable by his nature. it felt like cutting himself open and letting himself go free.

he was never free to begin with. freedom to each is a different concept. the day the god of eternity sealed his power and hid him like a failure of hers, followed by letting him roam free, he chained his mind to different intentions of ei’s. he felt neglected and deprived of who he was meant to be—not knowing he was a mere prototype, never designed to hold and wield the electro gnosis; whose existence was about to be terminated right before they saw him cry in his sleep—rather than free.

he had no given name nor a home to get back to at the end of the day. so, naturally, when fatui took him under their wings, he felt that being the sixth seat was his rightful place. 

there were many kind people in his early ordinary days of learning how to be human between the time he was discarded and given the title of the balladeer. your way of carrying yourself immensely reminds him of them all. sometimes it can be agonizing to wanderer, but lovely just the same. he reacts to your eyes, inviting him to join you bathing in the stream while the sun slowly sets. 

erstwhile clear water, due to the reflection of the sky, is dyeing itself in colors of yellow, orange, violet, and pink. the river takes its appearance like the flower field around you at once. 

as wanderer takes his clothes off, he is quickly submerging himself into and under the water. it is shallow, so you can swiftly reach his side. you have qualms about whether he would let you come closer, despite that, you carefully stretch your hands towards his shoulders. you sit him up. he has a lot on his mind lately, thus, he lets you take care of him without thinking much. to tell the truth, he trusts you to a great extent, knowing you would catch him if he fell—literally and figuratively. 

you pluck a lone flower from the floral field. it is greenish blue, or rather turquoise, in color. one would rarely see it blossom. the color reminds you of wanderer’s tattoos’ when they glow with power.

you slowly trace them with luminous petals, so it leaves dye markings; barely visible, but you both know it’s there nevertheless. it is a silly activity yet remarkably intimate for either. he does not feel skin contact the same as everyone else, regardless, he gets chills from your delicate brushes.

somehow you do not care about him being born unhuman at all. maybe because in your mind he is the most human one could be—cruel and all the things beautiful at the same time; imperfect. 

you offer him another flower of your favorite color, for him to paint on your bare body as well. he is skeptical, however, it takes only a moment to engage in the act. you shiver every time he tries touching you softly. neither of you talk. 

you warily touch his face then. the pink rose in your frail grip is kissing his cheeks, and nose, consciously avoiding his pursed lips as well as eyes, which are dyed burgundy anyways. the color was indeed deliberately chosen to imitate a blush of sorts. you thought it was cute. 

he is feeling your skin alongside, attentively selecting parts of your body you would be fine with; giving your consent to. it does vary how you react.

you reach for his chest subsequently, holding a flower of opaque red. you are faltering while drawing something. at that moment, he stops his own tracery and retracts his arm further from you; stays still. you painted a little heart on his chest. likewise, you keep looking at it in silence, smiling. 

it was a heart he was able to call his own. 

he remembers. puppet he is, abandoned by the almighty shogun for being overly human, but used as a tool by fatui ever since. in no way they saw a human—whereas he could not die and had an empty space of a heart. how can one be a human being without a heart? his existence contradicted itself in that sense.

as a harbinger, did he become more human then? when a tainted heart he got from the doctor saved him, it was offered to him in the form of the ashes to have in that empty shell of a place. at first, he did not know it was niwa's; that same withered one he discarded after condemning the entire incident as his second betrayal of cruel mankind nature. a human heart he yearns for is not worth the pain of another person’s death. 

afterward, he sought a gnosis to take that place instead. his luck was one of a kind really. the contentment he became so familiar with, was short-lived in the end. it was not a real heart anyhow. can the anemo vision he recently acquired serve as his vital core replacement?

each time he came into possession of a fill-in for a heart, someone else had to suffer. merely this time, he actually felt you blessed him with a heart he could be endowed without any anguish. he put his singular hand up to his chest and held it pressed. he was fond of his ephemeral heart. 

you slowly but surely grasp his fingers. the puppet joints over the years looked almost seamless. it evidently looked human-like. you cautiously brush your lips against his knuckles, meeting his violet-blue eyes. do they twinkle—was it mirroring the stirring water on second thought? 

promptly, the serene moment of yours is interfered. you turn your head to unfamiliar hushed tones and humming. there pop up a few heads of plant-like forest spirits. you notice wanderer is gifted to see them as well. 

aranaras are critters, only to be seen by trustworthy dreamers of pure and kind hearts. it is a mystery really—wanderer’s ability to spot them. is he, not a doll without a heart; can he be regarded as good-natured; is he to be trusted… he is not a child either (but acting like one every once in a while). 

thereafter, wanderer stretches his hand toward a bright blue-colored creature, holding a yellow poppy. flowers help aranaras remember their friends whenever they meet. besides, they gain power from memories. do the spirits of sumeru forests lay hold of dreadful recollections as well? wanderer is brimful of them. 

after a while, wanderer looks in your direction. he is deep in thought at the moment, pondering who exactly he is. he does understand the concept of being human pretty well, yet he does have uncertainties about whether he can call himself one, partially at least. he did give up trying to be human in the distant past, though, he had experienced pieces of being human underway—having emotions, enduring pain, having a heart of some form, a place to live, a region to serve, people he called family, and a name. 

truthfully, he had a myriad of names; words he was called by others. he never deemed them his names frankly. nonetheless, he loved himself as kabukimono—the dolly wandering eccentric, perceived as naive and peculiar. deep inside he knows he did not stray far from his roots, it was simply eclipsed by the wounds of his past. 

he did name himself kunikuzushi, the world-destroyer once. alongside was given titles of the balladeer and scaramouche. it should be mentioned that whilst no man on teyvat recalls it being him—he was formerly known as the everlasting lord of arcane wisdom; shouki no kami, the prodigal, too. 

attempting erasure of himself, including rectifying past events that his existence, and rage-driven deeds caused, wanderer reincarnated into someone as curious as the young kabukimono. he opted for calling himself a wanderer. was he an eccentric one this time on top of that? at the end of the day, it all comes full circle. 

at present, he does go by a freshly given name, restraining himself with a new psyche all while making an effort to atone for his sins. he accepted his birth, not to mention, the entirety of his past. 

he looks all around his own porcelain-like skin, currently dyed with multiple colors. it tugs at his heartstrings. he does glance at your body then, admiring the art, positioned in front—meaning you, not the mindless drawings of flowers’ pigments on your figure. 

hence, he finally feels like he has reached the promised divinity. only whenever he is with you.

(part two)

[pizza-hats-of-the-world-1882]

a little comparison of our storm king candidates talking to orotine at the ball

first: tarvek

so we only get a brief glimpse of their interaction, but right away Tarvek not only recognizes her, but knows exactly which muse she is. Aside from lineage, Tarvek's relationship with the muses is probably his strongest claim to the lightning crown. he seems to really genuinely love and revere them [in the next panel seffie overhears him squealing<3] which makes him suggesting orotine talk to gil later a pretty significant gesture

but even more interesting is how Orotine addresses him. As a prince, his correct styling would be "your highness", but instead she calls him "your majesty", a form of address almost exclusively reserved for *monarchs*. so that's pretty big for his claim!

next: martellus

no respect! Martellus immediately starts trying to pull rank and assert his authority, then he asks "which one are you?" which is a rather brusque way to phrase the question! also, if your whole deal is trying to ascend to the lightning crown, it would probably behoove ypu to know things about the muses given how central they are to the storm king legend. he seems to view their support as a given rather than something he has to earn.

Of course Orotine politely smacks him back down to earth, beginning by addressing him as "your highness" not "your majesty", then revealing that the race for the crown is not just between him and tarvek; there are more options [and of those options tweedle is losing]. no matter his political alliances or threats of force, he will require more than that to truly earn the title.

last but most squertainly not least: gil

Orotine styles Gil as "herr baron", nothing notable ab this one as that is his correct and publicly acknowledged title [tho i will footnote that traditionally a lord/lady would be addressed by thier highest title since historically it was common for nobles to hold multiple titles, and technically for gil this would be "your highness" as revealed by Boris but in practice his actual power comes from the empire's holdings and the the title that comes w that is baron, even though its technically a lower rank.] that was a long footnote who said that

Gil treats her with the same polite friendliness he does with the other party guests, respecting her as a person. There's even light discussion of scheming, the core of any friendly political conversation.

And here's where we can really contrast him with martellus: Gil is not actively vying for the storm king title, so its natural that he doesnt necessarily all of the muses, but when he asks, he says "and may i know which muse you are?" a way to phrase the question which is not completely rude, take notes tweedle!

Gil defers to her area of expertise and ask for advice, but in bringing up the storm king acknowledges her right to refuse, giving her a polite way out.

And what a response Orotine gives! not just stating her purpose but that she would be *happy* to advise him. Tacitly but strongly acknowledging his claim to the lightning crown and therefore her potential allegiance!

[bassmars]

Sub! Neuvillette x Dom! GN Reader

Was bored at night and wrote this, pretty OOC but decided to post it since I haven’t posted anything since last time.

————————

The Chief Justice’s Punishment

submissive neuvillette nsfw

warnings: light bondage, dom/sub dynamics, humiliation kink, orgasm denial/ edging, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, office sex, authority kink, also names like slut and etc

The soft scratch of quill against parchment filled Neuvillette's private chambers, his elegant handwriting flowing across yet another legal document. You watched him from across his massive oak desk, remembering how it all started months ago – one small error that led to discovering the Chief Justice's deepest desires. Since then, these "private corrections" had become your little secret, each session leaving him more obedient, more desperate for your control.

"My, my..." you purred, standing slowly. "What do we have here, Chief Justice? Another mistake?"

His breath audibly caught – he knew what that tone meant. After all your previous encounters, Neuvillette's body had become finely tuned to your dominance. Sometimes you wondered if he made these small errors on purpose now, craving what would follow.

"Is it that time again?" he asked softly, his formal demeanor already beginning to crack. His fingers twitched on the desk, remembering how you'd bound them with his own sash last time.

You circled the desk, document in hand. "You know the drill by now, don't you, pet?" The nickname made him shudder – he'd earned it after the third time you'd reduced him to begging.

"Yes..." he breathed, already rising from his chair without being told. Months of training had taught him well.

"Yes, what?" you prompted, eyes narrowing.

"Yes, Your Honor," he corrected himself quickly, cheeks flushing. The title had started as a joke during one of your sessions, but the way it made him tremble had quickly turned it into a requirement.

You reached out to trace his jaw with one finger. "Look how well you've learned. Remember when you used to protest? Now you're practically quivering for it." Your hand slid down to his ceremonial sash. "Should we add another lesson to your education today?"

Neuvillette's eyes darkened with familiar need. "Please..." he whispered, already losing his composed facade. "I've been... waiting for you to notice."

"Oh?" You yanked him closer by his sash. "Did someone make mistakes on purpose? Has my strict Chief Justice become such a needy little slut for punishment?"

The whimper that escaped him was answer enough. Months of these encounters had stripped away his inhibitions, revealing the submissive creature that had always lurked beneath his authoritative exterior.

"Strip," you commanded. "And tell me exactly what you hoped to achieve with your little... error."

With practiced grace, Neuvillette began removing his elaborate robes, each layer revealing more of his pale, perfect skin. His fingers trembled slightly – not from nervousness anymore, but from anticipation.

"I... I may have misplaced those documents intentionally," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "It's been a week since our last... session."

You clicked your tongue disapprovingly, though heat pooled in your core at his confession. "So desperate you'd risk court efficiency? My, my... you've become quite the needy little dragon, haven't you?"

Now down to just his fitted undergarments, Neuvillette's breathing had grown heavy. The obvious bulge in his pants betrayed his arousal. "I apologize for my... impropriety."

"Oh, you will," you promised, grabbing his sash from the discarded robes. "Hands behind your back."

He complied immediately, shivering as you bound his wrists with practiced efficiency. The silk sash – a symbol of his authority – now served to strip him of control.

"Look at you," you purred, walking around him slowly. "The mighty Chief Justice, bound and trembling. What would your subordinates think if they saw you like this?"

A desperate whine escaped his throat. "Please... Your Honor..."

You grabbed a fistful of his silky hair, yanking his head back. "Please what? Use your words properly, or you won't get what you need.

"Please use me," he gasped, dignity crumbling. "I've been thinking about it all week – your hands, your commands, how you make me... make me..."

"Make you what?" You bit his exposed neck, marking him just below where his collar would hide it.

"Make me lose control," he moaned, hips jerking helplessly. "Make me beg. Make me yours."

Your free hand slid down his chest, toying with the waistband of his undergarments. "And what makes you think you deserve it? After deliberately sabotaging court documents?"

"Because," you growled into his ear, yanking his underwear down roughly, "you're already dripping for me." Your hand wrapped around his length, already slick with precum. "Such a needy little dragon."

Neuvillette's legs trembled as you stroked him slowly, teasingly. "F-fuck," he cursed, a rare break in his usual eloquent speech that made you grin wickedly.

"What filthy language from our Chief Justice," you taunted, squeezing harder. "I think that deserves some punishment, don't you?”

You pushed him forward until he was bent over his desk, important documents scattered beneath him. His bound hands flexed helplessly as you spread his legs wider. The sharp sound of skin meeting skin filled the room as you landed blow after blow on his perfect ass, watching it turn a beautiful shade of pink.

His moans grew increasingly desperate with each strike, cock twitching against the expensive wood of his desk. The mighty Chief Justice, reduced to rutting against his own furniture – the sight made heat pool between your legs.

"Please," he begged, voice cracking, "I need..."

You leaned over him, pressing against his bare back. "What do you need? Tell me exactly what you want."

"I need you inside me," he moaned, abandoning all pretense of dignity. "Please, Your Honor, I've been empty all week, thinking about you filling me, stretching me open..."

You reached around to stroke his leaking cock again. "Such a slutty dragon, begging to be filled. Should I prepare you first, or have you been playing with yourself, thinking of me?"

His answering whimper told you everything you needed to know. You pressed yourself against him, letting him feel your arousal through your clothes. "Tell me. Did you fuck yourself with your fingers, imagining it was me?"

"Y-yes," Neuvillette admitted, his voice trembling with need. "Every night, but it wasn't enough... never enough compared to you..."

You smirked, reaching for the vial of oil you knew he kept in his desk drawer – another sign of how these encounters had become routine. "Show me then. Show me how desperate you are."

Releasing his bound hands, you commanded, "Spread yourself for me. Let me see how badly you want it."

Despite his usual composure, Neuvillette didn't hesitate. He reached back with both hands, spreading himself open, his hole already slightly loose from his earlier preparations. The sight made you groan with desire.

"Such an obedient" you praised, drizzling the cool oil over his exposed entrance, watching him twitch at the sensation. "Look how easily my finger slides in..." You pushed one digit inside, feeling barely any resistance. "Did you do this before our meeting? Were you sitting in court all day, stretched and ready for me?"

"Yes," he gasped, pushing back against your finger. "Please, Your Honor, I need more..."

You added a second finger, scissoring them inside him. "The mighty Chief Justice, reduced to begging... what would your subordinates think if they could see you now? Their composed leader dripping and desperate?"

His cock twitched violently at your words, a stream of precum leaking onto the scattered documents below. "Please... please..."

You lined yourself up against his entrance, teasing him with just the tip. "Beg properly for what you want, neuvillette~. Tell me exactly how badly you need it."

"Please, I need you to fuck me," Neuvillette begged, his usual eloquent vocabulary reduced to desperate pleas.

"Tsk, tsk," you teased, still only letting the tip press against him. "And here I thought the great Chief Justice was supposed to be perfect. First those sloppy mistakes in your paperwork, and now you can't even beg properly?"

You pushed in just slightly before pulling back out completely, making him whine. "Your Honor, please! I need you to fill me, to punish me for my careless errors..."

"That's better," you praised, finally pushing into him slowly. "But I don't think you've learned your lesson yet about being thorough with your work."

Once fully seated inside him, you remained still, watching him try to squirm back against you. His usually perfect hair was disheveled, face flushed as he panted against the desk.

"Every..." you pulled out slowly, "single..." thrust back in sharply, "detail..." another slow withdrawal, "matters."

Each word was punctuated by your movements, keeping him on edge but never giving him the hard, fast pace he craved. When he tried to reach for his own neglected cock, you grabbed his wrists.

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" you scolded. "Such poor impulse control. Maybe that's why you made those filing mistakes? Too distracted thinking about this?"

"I'm sorry," he gasped, "I'll be more careful, I promise, just please... please fuck me properly..."

You leaned over his back, biting his ear. "Oh? Like this?" You snapped your hips forward hard once, then returned to the torturously slow pace. "Or maybe you haven't earned it yet. Should we review all your mistakes first?"

His cock twitched beneath him, dripping steadily onto the very documents he'd mishandled. "I'm close," he warned, voice breaking.

"Oh no," you pulled out completely, making him sob with frustration. "You don't get to cum until you've recited every single error you made today. And they better be accurate..."

Neuvillette's perfect composure shattered as he struggled to focus, his voice trembling. "The... the case files from the merchant district were... ah!" He broke off as you pushed back in torturously slow.

"Go on," you commanded, stilling your hips. "Every. Single. Detail."

"The timestamps were... were incorrect," he gasped, trying to push back against you but your firm grip on his hips kept him still. "And I mixed up the... oh gods... the witness statements from—"

You pulled out again, making him whimper. "Careful now. Accuracy is everything in court, isn't it?"

"The witness statements from cases 347 and 348," he corrected himself quickly. "Please, Your Honor, I'm trying..."

"Not good enough," you tsked, running a finger down his spine. "What else?"

His cock throbbed desperately as he continued, "The... the evidence logs were filed in the wrong sequence... please, I'm so close..."

"And?" You pushed back in painfully slow, watching him fall apart.

"The dates! I switched the dates on the final verdicts!" He was practically sobbing now. "Please, I've admitted everything, I need to cum so badly..."

You established a steady rhythm, but still not the pounding he craved. "Such careless mistakes from someone so important. What would your subordinates think?"

"They'd be... ah... disappointed," he moaned, his thighs trembling. "I'm supposed to be... perfect... flawless..."

"But you're not, are you?" You reached around to grasp his leaking cock. "You're just a needy little dragon who makes mistakes just to get punished..."

"You're right," Neuvillette sobbed, past caring about his dignity now. "I'm not perfect, I'm just a needy slut who needs to be punished, please Your Honor, I'll do anything..."

"Anything?" You squeezed the base of his cock hard, preventing his approaching orgasm. "Then you won't cum until I say so, will you Neuvillette?"

He shook his head frantically, tears of frustration streaming down his face. "No, Your Honor, I'll be good, I'll wait..."

You increased your pace finally, pounding into him mercilessly while keeping a firm grip on his cock. His whole body shuddered, caught between the intense pleasure and the denial of release.

"Look at you," you panted, "the mighty Chief Justice, drooling on his own desk, begging like a common whore. Should I make you cum? Or should I keep you on edge all day? Make you sit through court later, desperate and aching?"

"Please!" he cried out, his usual composed voice completely wrecked. "I need it so badly..."

You leaned down to bite his shoulder hard. "Maybe I should make you cum over and over until you're oversensitive and crying, until you can't remember any of those legal codes you're so proud of. Would you like that better?"

His cock twitched violently in your grip at the suggestion. "Yes! Yes, please, anything you want, just please let me cum!"

"Hmm," you pretended to consider it, never slowing your brutal pace. "I don't know... have you really learned your lesson about being careful with your work?"

“Let’s see how much you can take” you purred, finally releasing your grip on his cock. "Cum for me. Show me how desperate you were."

Neuvillette came with a broken cry, his whole body convulsing as he spilled over his precious documents. But you didn't stop – instead, you increased your pace, hitting his sensitive spot relentlessly.

"Did I say you could stop?" you growled when he tried to squirm away. "We're going to make sure this lesson really sticks."

"Too much," he gasped, his softening cock already twitching back to hardness. "Please, I can't—"

"Can't?" you mocked, reaching around to stroke him roughly. "The great Chief Justice giving up so easily? What happened to that famous endurance of yours?"

His second orgasm hit him even harder than the first, leaving him trembling and incoherent. Tears streamed down his face as you continued to fuck him through it, his oversensitive body caught between pleasure and pain.

"Look at you," you whispered, "coming apart so beautifully. Should we go for three? Make sure you never forget this lesson?"

"Please," he sobbed, not even sure anymore if he was begging for mercy or more. His cock was hardening again despite his protests, his body betraying how much he loved being used like this.

"Color?" you checked, making sure he was still okay to continue.

"Green," he gasped out immediately, "so green, please don't stop..."

[ilguna]

☼ borrowed time (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; finnick made sure you made it out of your games alive, and now its time to pay back the favor. all good deeds come with a price.

warnings; swearing, weapon use, injuries, blood mention, ehh gore, death, the usual hunger games stuff.

wc; 11.8k

--

It was a sunny August morning when you were first officially introduced to Victor’s Village, two years ago. The mayor’s secretary had been designated to give you a tour, and to explain how the house would work, now that you were a part of the community. 

“Unlike some of the other districts,” She began. “Four likes to keep their village neat and green.”

She motioned to the grass, which had been so healthy and bright that it almost looked artificial. The flowers in bloom were designated to beds with bricks. There was a cement fountain, and as you grew closer, you could see just how clear the crystal water was.

When you peeked inside, you found coins sitting at the bottom, as if the victors in the village regularly made wishes.

“You don’t have to worry about upkeep, though. We have a groundskeeper for that. If you have any issues or you see plants that are beginning to go, he needs to be notified immediately.” She said, continuing down the path. “The Capitol likes our garden the most, we frequently have photographers come to take pictures for their magazines.“

“Why?” Your mother asked.

“Because we’re one of the nicer districts.” The secretary told her, going up the steps to a house. “We’re here.”

A hand was then placed on your shoulder, as your father went to move around you, to head in first. The secretary held out her hand, shaking her head. 

“It’s customary that the victor enters first. It’s her house, after all.”

“It’s our house.” Your father said back. 

“No, it’s hers. If she were to die tomorrow, you would be moved out the same day. Come, (Y/n).” She said.

You followed her instructions, despite knowing how your father felt about control and being the head of the house. You went up the staircase, to the front door, where she encouraged you to open it. After living in a small house, barely scraping by with every paycheck your parents earned, you could finally sleep in peace knowing that your home wasn’t going anywhere.

When you opened the door, it was like opening a new chapter to your life, a new beginning. There wouldn’t be a need to look over your shoulder, to worry about how your life would turn out. It was solved. You won the Hunger Games.

The house was nice for the first month, before your family decided that they hated you. They didn’t like the circumstances in which you had been given the home. And they would rather be far away from you, in the house you’d grown up in, where you were no longer welcome. 

Now, you live in a place that sits cold, still and quiet. Despite it being a beautiful summer day, there is a weight that sits on this house. It came when the Quarter Quell had been announced in the winter, and it hasn’t left since. As if you’d forget what would be coming for you in a few months. 

How could you, though? President Snow read the card live in front of the entirety of Panem without an ounce of hesitation. He told you that victors would be reaped this year. Everyone heard it, and it���s been echoing in their minds since.

Especially you, considering for the past couple of days, you’ve done nothing but weigh the pros and cons of going back inside of the arena. It would not be for the fun and the honor of having a second title. It would not be for the benefit of more money, which had originally pulled your family out of a dark hole they were desperate to leave.

If you were to volunteer today, it would be for the family you found after you won and your family had abandoned you. It would be for the woman who showed you the love you should’ve received from your mother. For the girl you see as an older sister. For the boy who mentored you, and saved you from becoming just another tribute face from Four that didn’t make it.

There has been a lot of talk among the District Four victors about who would have to be the two tributes to go inside. There isn’t a lot of room for conversation regarding the boys, but the girls are a different story. No one can agree on who it should be, it’s a hard decision to make.

And a decision that shouldn’t be made at all. 

Which is why you have gotten closer and closer to making up your mind about being the female tribute for the Quarter Quell. If it’s not you, then it’s Mags, and she shouldn’t have to go back inside. She won over sixty years ago, she doesn’t know how vicious the arena can be, and her body won’t be able to handle the excursion.

And from what you heard, Finnick is supposed to be the male tribute. He’s agreed to volunteer, not that anyone has any real opposition. But that means he’ll be taking care of Mags inside of the arena, which can slow him down and get killed.

While you, on the other hand, can help him. You won recently, your body is still in shape, you can keep him alive. The same way he kept you alive when you needed him the most. 

You’ll be paying back the favor by doing this, making sure he gets out of the arena alive so he can come home to Four, where he’s loved the most.

It won’t be easy, but it’s what has to be done. 

You step out of your house, pulling the door shut quietly behind you. As soon as the sun touches your skin, you begin to sweat. The July heat in District Four is no joke, if you spend too much time outside, you’ll get sunburnt. And there is no affordable remedy for those who are living at the bottom.

As you leave the village, you eye the houses, half of them barren like yours due to the reaping. Everyone else has already left, they made no effort to be quiet. You would’ve gone with the group, if it weren’t for the fact that you wanted more time alone to think, before you were forced to be on camera.

The journey to the Justice Building starts alone, but the closer you get, the more people appear, coming together to walk in a crowd. Except, it doesn’t matter how thick it gets, because no one comes close to you, giving you space. A halo.

Once you get close to the stage, most of the people disappear to go to their designated spot. While you get to continue forward, to the Peacekeepers, who are awaiting your arrival. You can see the other victors have made it, standing in groups on the stage, making you the last one to arrive.

The Peacekeepers don’t need your name, they recognize your face. They move aside when you’re close, allowing you to pass. You head up the steps one at a time, taking deep breaths. The cameras will be on soon, or maybe they already are, hungry to catch the reaction on your faces.

You half-expect the regular row of chairs on the stage when you make it to the top of the staircase, but you’re met with something new, different. Usually, there’s a long row of chairs, and the victors of Four sit in the order of which they won. With you joining two years ago, it makes you the chair on the far right, one after Annie. While Mags is the first chair on the left, since she’s the oldest surviving victor. 

Well, this year there are no chairs. There are two pens on opposite sides of the stage, one for the female victors, and one for the male victors. Just like how it usually is for the teenage boys and girls of the district. However, they’re allowed to intermingle for this reaping, considering they’re not the ones going to be chosen. 

You wander to where Finnick is, with the few other male victors. He’s got his attention set on Annie, who’s being comforted by a few of the other girls. He breaks away to look at you, eyebrows already raised.

“It took you a while to get here, everything okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, I was just clearing my head.” You tell him, moving your hair out of your face. “Is Annie…?” You trail off, letting him assume what you were going to ask.

His face drops a little. “She’s having a hard time standing in the ropes, it’s bringing her back.”

“Does she know the plan?”

Finnick nods, eyes finding the ground. “Yes, and I think that’s what’s making it worse.” He clears his throat. “Mags is going to volunteer.”

“Wasn’t that always what she was going to do?” You ask, not bothering to correct him. Mags will try to volunteer, and fail, because you will move faster than she does. But that will only work if you’re not the one picked out of the bowl.

“Yes,” Finnick murmurs. “I wish it didn’t have to be her.”

You open your mouth to speak, but a voice calling your name cuts you off, causing you to look over. It’s your Capitol escort, motioning for you to join the rest of the female victors. She taps the empty spot on her left wrist to tell you that it’s almost time for the reaping to start.

“You should go. She’s been pretty anxious this morning.” He tells you.

“I’ll see you later.” You tell him, leaving. 

You join the others, who hold the rope up to help you slip underneath it easier. Mags places a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to make eye contact with her so she can check on you. With her, you almost never need to tell her how you feel, she can see it. It’s nice most of the time, but right now, she might see something different, more than just sorrow.

“Your family?” She asks, speech slurred. 

“They didn’t come to visit.” You tell her, causing her to frown. You shrug, “I didn’t expect them to, anyway. I wouldn’t have let them in the house.” You give her a smile. “Besides, you’re my family, Mags.”

She touches your cheek with the back of her hand. “My daughter.”

The Capitol escort then appears, “They’re going to start in less than a minute. You’ll be on camera, do not make a scene.”

She then hurries to the boys side to give them the same warning. You wonder if these are her instructions, the mayors or Snows. You can only imagine what will happen to those you love if you were to step out of line and say something they don’t want you to.

Although, at this point, you have nothing to lose with your family. They’re out there, somewhere. You can’t find them in the sea of faces that watch the stage. A part of you knows they’re waiting to see if you’ll get chosen so they can swallow up your home. Since you won’t be there to occupy it and tell them no.

You have a feeling that the other victors of Four might tell them to leave, but they might be too caught up in the Quarter Quell to care. If only you could get the chance to tell them, yourself. They lost the right to be in that house when they decided you were a monster for fighting for your life. What else were you supposed to do, die?

Before your thought can continue, the mayor comes up to the podium, causing the citizens of District Four to hush. They listen as he tells the history of Panem, like he does every year. The speech only takes a couple of minutes. When he’s done, he reads the names of the past District Four victors, ending with you.

The escort, Chesna, replaces the mayor at the podium. She places her hands flat on the podium, a habit she started after Annie won. It was like she finally realized the impact the Games had on the survivors. Or so Finnick says.

“Happy Hunger Games,” She speaks smoothly, not an ounce of excitement in her tone. “May the odds be ever in your favor.” There’s a moment of silence. “We will start with the gentlemen.”

Chesna moves away from the microphone, heading to the glass bowl to her right. It’s not entirely unusual for her to start with the men first, sometimes she likes to change the order. She says that it keeps things exciting in the Capitol, and it keeps her from being replaced. 

As much as Snow likes order, he can appreciate unpredictability on occasion. Chesna doesn’t push her limits.

She stops in front of the table, reaching her hand inside for one of the few papers that sit at the bottom. She stirs them, giving everyone a fair chance, before picking one off the side. She carries it to the podium, where she carefully unfolds the paper.

Her shoulders fall, “Finnick Odair.”

In the matter of seconds, his life has changed. And so has your mind, solidifying your decision. No one will volunteer for him, and no one does. He steps out of the pen, taking a few steps forward to stop behind the glass bowl his name was just picked from. 

He looks over, meeting your eyes, and giving you a nod. 

“Now for the ladies.” Chesna says, voice quieter. 

She takes Finnick’s paper with her to the girls bowl. She repeats what she did for the boys, sticking her hand inside, stirring the papers, and then picking one from the middle. She pulls it out, takes it with her to the podium, and then unfolds it.

There’s a pause for a few seconds, you can hear her take a breath through the microphone. Your heart begins to beat in your chest, morbidly curious if your luck is so bad to allow you to get picked twice when given the opportunity.

“Annie Cresta.”

There’s a scream from beside you, coming from Annie. You wince at the pitch and intensity, right in your ear. Mags reaches over to comfort her, probably before she officially volunteers. This is her mistake, because it gives you the perfect window without having to rush to do it.

“I volunteer.” You speak, just loud enough to get Chesna’s attention.

She turns, eyes landing on you. “You volunteer?”

“Yes, I volunteer.” You tell her.

A hand grabs your arm, squeezing tightly. You turn to see that it’s Mags, who seems to have forgotten about Annie. She’s sobbing into her hands, either out of horror or gratitude that the female victors of Four would come to her rescue. 

Mags taps her chest, face screwed hard, shaking her head at you. Disappointment. This is not how she wanted the reaping to go. She wanted to be the one to go, to protect the girls she sees as her daughters. This was not part of her plan.

“I’ve got this.” You tell her in a quiet voice. “Trust me.”

Her lips are pressed in a thin line, unhappy. She lets you go, you step over the rope and head to your spot behind the bowl. Chesna turns back to the microphone. 

“Our tributes this year are (Y/n) (L/n) and Finnick Odair.” She moves back, away from the podium to allow the mayor to wrap up.

All he does is read the Treaty of Treason before turning in your direction, motioning for you to shake hands, keeping custom. You turn to Finnick, and find the same expression that Mags had, on his face. You hold out your hand, he takes it.

You shake once, sealing your fate.

—

“Let’s take a break.” Katniss suggests, looking between the three of you. “I need to get another look from above.”

Finnick gives her a nod, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He briefly looks at the wetness on his thumb before rubbing it off on his jumpsuit, shaking his head. 

It doesn’t take a genius to know what he’s thinking, because you have the exact same thing on your mind; it’s hot.

And this is coming from a pair of people who are no strangers to the heat. There have been countless times where District Four has almost broken its own blistering record. Which shouldn’t be possible. You can feel it the most in the summer, especially if you’re out there working on the water.

While golden tans are common, so are deep sunburns.

The arena is a different type of heat, it doesn’t have the dryness you get back home. It’s the opposite, actually. It’s humid, partially due to the jungle, partially because you’re trapped in a giant terrarium. Between the saltwater lake, the luscious greenery and the white hot sun—you’re being boiled alive.

There’s nothing you can do about it, either. The shade provided by the tall trees and the giant leaves are no relief from the temperature. You’re stuck dealing with wet hair and sticky skin.

It doesn’t help that you can’t find any water.

This is what Katniss will look for while she scales the tallest tree. It’s on all of your minds. You watch her wedge her toes and fingers into gaps in the bark, pulling herself up. Once she reaches the branches, she disappears, moving quicker.

This leaves you, Finnick and Peeta to enjoy each other’s company. The four of you have been running away from the Cornucopia for over an hour, trying to get distance from the Careers. You’re thirty, and you’d do almost anything for a glass of cold water.

”How’re you feeling?” Finnick asks, leaning against a nearby tree. He’s got his trident gripped in his hand loosely, tired of carrying it.

“Better.” Peeta says, rubbing his legs. “The more we walk, the less stiff I feel.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t die.” You tell him, shaking your head. 

It took you all by surprise when the sparks flew after he hit the force field with his machete. For a second, you thought he might’ve swiped at a rock, and you were briefly impressed before he got thrown back, knocking you all down. 

“I’m lucky you’re our allies.” Peeta agrees, motioning at the gold bracelet on Finnick’s wrist, referencing Haymitch.

He got a bracelet, while you have nothing to show. Finnick has done everything in his power to make it clear to everyone that you’re following his lead. You weren’t meant to volunteer, Mags would never have been so cruel to agree to it beforehand. 

Haymitch listened to Finnick, despite the many times you asked him to include you on the rebel plan they were figuring out. He never did. He told you he has enough on his plate with Katniss and Peeta, the last thing he needs is another teenager to protect. 

He didn’t necessarily call you Finnick’s problem outright, but he definitely heavily implied it.

You’ll take it for now, but you have a feeling you’ll be more help than they could’ve imagined, later on down the line. You’re an extra pair of fighting hands, while Mags would not have been. And anything she can build in a moment's notice, you can too. It’s not an exclusive skill.

Besides, you don’t think Finnick actually wanted to bring Mags into the arena, he knows what would’ve inevitably happened. There’s less risk with you. You can keep yourself safe, and more importantly, him.

“We wanted to be allies from the beginning, but Katniss has more of a…” You trail off, looking into the trees, trying to find the word, “Cautious palette.” Your eyes land back on Peeta. “With others our age, that’s not really the case. Besides, Finnick can come off strong.”

Finnick scowls at you, mostly because you’re undermining him, but Peeta lets out a sigh and nods. “I think Katniss will come around to that, though.”

“We hope so.”

The rustling of leaves overhead halts the conversation, causing you to look to make sure that it’s Katniss coming down the tree, and not some jungle bird. She’s carefully lowering herself, one arm length at a time. Peeta stands at the base, hands outstretched to catch her, just in case her hand slips.

She makes it though, landing on her feet in the grass. She brushes debris off the front of her jumpsuit before turning to face you. “The force field has us trapped in a circle. A dome, really. I don’t know how high it goes. There’s the Cornucopia, the sea, and then the jungle all around. Very exact. Very symmetrical. And not very large.”

“Did you see any water?” Finnick asks.

“Only the saltwater where we started the Games.” She answers, shaking her head.

“There must be some other source,” Peeta frowns. “Or we’ll all be dead in a matter of days.”

“Well, the foliage is thick. Maybe there are ponds or springs somewhere.” Katniss suggests, but she doesn’t seem all that convinced, herself. “At any rate, there’s no point in trying to find out what’s over the edge of this hill, because the answer is nothing.”

“There has to be drinkable water between the force field and the wheel.” You insist. 

Collectively, the four of you agree to head back down the slope a couple hundred yards, still circling to see if you’ll come across water. Katniss leads, determined to come across something. By midafternoon, it’s clear you have to stop, because all you’re doing is exhausting yourselves.

Finnick decides he wants to keep close to the force field, so Katniss takes her time to make a hard line in the spongy dirt to ensure no one gets close enough to accidentally hurt themselves. Peeta goes around nearby trees, digging in the grass to collect nuts, which Katniss initially refuses to let him eat. 

It isn’t until you’re allowed a closer look, are you able to tell them that they’re fine and the nuts are edible. You can’t place your finger on what kind they are exactly, all you remember is your time in the Training Center a couple years ago. You took the time to memorize every little detail you could for a forest arena, because that would be your biggest bet to survival.

Since you’re able to identify the nuts, Katniss lets Peeta continue to gather them. He even goes on to roast them by bouncing them off the force field. Once he’s done, he peels off the shells one by one, placing the meats on a large leaf.

Katniss guards, walking around occasionally, wiping the sweat from her face. You sit at the base of a tree, near Finnick, plucking long leaves from jungle plants to weave mats. They’re hard to get started, but once you get a pattern down, it’s pretty much smooth sailing from there. Before you know it, you’re working on your third.

“Finnick, why don’t you stand guard and I’ll hunt around some more for water.” Katniss suggests, shaking her head.

“You want to go off alone?” Peeta asks, lips pressed together.

“It’ll be faster that way.” She reasons. “Don’t worry, I won’t go far.”

“I’ll go, too.” He says, starting to move to get to his feet.

“No, I’m going to do some hunting if I can.” She tells him, raising her eyebrows. “I won’t be long.”

“Stay within shouting distance.” You tell her. “I’m a quick runner.”

Katniss nods, and then heads off into the trees. It’s fairly quiet between the three of you, besides the sound of nuts singeing. You keep a careful eye on Finnick, watching how far he goes, when he hesitates to move away. 

You want to tell him that there’s no reason to patrol just yet. The bloodbath is still going on, meaning a majority of the tributes are fighting for their lives. And if you do run across anyone in the jungle, there’s a seventy percent chance they’re an ally, rather than some district that got left out.

More importantly, the Careers aren’t going to be out here roaming quite yet. If you were him, you’d be saving your energy. Especially since the more he paces, the more he sweats out the water he drank this morning. You all have a better chance at sitting it out right now to see if the heat dies down before wasting your energy on meaningless tasks like guarding.

The real challenge will come tonight, when you’ll wish you could be sleeping, but you’re flinching at every little noise instead. True paranoia comes out in the dark. You remember what that was like.

It has to be another hour before the first cannon comes through, causing your fingers to freeze in place so you can listen properly. They come one at a time, making it easy to count, until it finally stops at eight.

Your hands lower to rest in your lap as you turn to look at Finnick, who has his eyes set on you. One-third of the competition has been taken out already, and you won’t be able to know who for a few more hours. 

“Sixteen left.” Peeta murmurs.

Neither of you say anything back to him.

After making a few mats out of the grass and leaves, you begin to tie them together to form one large hut. It has three walls, a floor and a roof. You’ve made it just big enough to fit three people in it at a time, assuming that one of you will always be on watch.

When you’re done, Peeta asks if you’ll make him bowls, which you agree to. They’re small and easy to put together. He fills them with handfuls of the nuts he’s been roasting, setting them aside for later.

With nothing else to do, you offer for Finnick to lay down in the hut while you take watch, but all he does is give you a look before turning away. It’s cold of him to do, and it would mean more if you didn’t know that it won’t last long. Once he’s exhausted, he’s going to look to someone else to keep an eye on Katniss and Peeta. 

You’ll let him think that he can wait until you’re with Johanna and Blight, two people who are older and more responsible. You know better than that. As soon as the sun goes down, he’ll feel the effects of the day, including the heat, and then he’ll be asking you to take over.

The sound of rustling leaves causes all three of you to turn toward the noise. It’s only Katniss, bow on her shoulder, carrying something at her side. She shakes her head. “No. No water. It’s out there, though. He knew where it was,” She says, holding up a skinned rodent for you to see better. “He’d been drinking recently when I shot him out of a tree, but I couldn’t find his source. I swear, I covered every inch of ground in a thirty-yard radius.”

“Can we eat him?” Peeta asks.

“I don’t know for sure. But his meat doesn’t look that different from a squirrel’s. He ought to be cooked…” She trails off, you press your lips together. 

You all very well know the danger of lighting a fire in an arena. It’s like waving the white flag. You’re going to signal to everyone that you’re here. Sure, you could probably get some time with a fire before they show up, but it won’t be worth the effort of putting it together. Besides, it’s so hot in here that sitting next to one will be torture.

Peeta has a different idea, though. He has Katniss cube the meat, and then he skewers it on the tip of a pointed stick. He lets the stick fall into the force field, causing the meat to sizzle. It’s black on the outer layer, but upon pulling the meat apart, it’s well cooked on the inside. 

It takes time for Peeta to char each chunk of meat, but by the end, the four of you are hungry. He takes his bowls and joins you in the hut, allowing you to start. You take turns on the meat, since it’s in such scarce quantities. As for the nuts, you take handfuls and pop them into your mouth.

While you eat, Finnick has many questions regarding the animal—which they settle on calling a tree rat. How high it was, how long did she watch it for before killing it, and what it was doing? She tries to make her answers detailed, but she honestly doesn’t remember the tree rat doing anything that stood out. It was just climbing on the trees, snuffing around.

The sun sinks into the horizon, bringing on the night. The conversation between Finnick and Katniss fizzles out as you gather at the mouth of the hut to watch the sky. It brightens when the Capitol seal appears, and in the far distance, you think you can make out the notes of the anthem.

The first face to appear in the sky is the man from District Five, the one that Finnick killed at the Cornucopia. This means the tributes from Districts One through Four have made it out alive. All four Careers, Wiress and Beetee, and obviously, you and Finnick.

The next is the morphling addict from District Six, then Cecelia and Woof from Eight, both from Nine, the woman from Ten, and the woman from Eleven. The Capitol seal reappears in the sky with the ending notes of the anthem, and then the sky goes dark. Only the moon remains.

There’s a moment of silence after. You close your eyes, hands flat on your knees as you take a breath. Cecelia and Woof are a tragedy, especially to you. You know—knew—both of them very well. You met Cecelia while you were mentoring for the first time, and she provided a lot of insight for you. As for Woof, she talked about him a lot, how he was one of the reasons why she did so well in her Games, even at his age. You were happy to meet him this year, even though you knew what would be coming.

If Mags had come instead, she easily could’ve died like Woof. Finnick would have done everything in his power to make sure it didn’t happen, but it would’ve been a possibility regardless. Nature will run its course, no matter what you do to step in the way of it.

You open your eyes.

A silent silver parachute appears in the air, landing at the feet of Peeta. No one immediately moves to grab it.

“Whose is it, do you think?” Katniss asks after a few seconds.

“No telling.” Finnick says. “Why don’t we let Peeta claim it, since he died today?”

Peeta lets out an amused breath. He unties the cord, flattening out the circle of silk. In the center sits a small metal object, unfamiliar to you. Your face twists, you look at Finnick to see his reaction, and find it just as quizzical.

“What is it?” Katniss asks, picking it up off the cloth. 

She turns it over in her fingers, examining it, feeling every inch of it before passing it to Finnick, who does the same. He passes it to Peeta, who finally hands it to you. It’s a metal tube, tapered at one end. On the other end is a lip, a tunnel, that curves downward.

Peeta blows air through it to see if it makes noise, it doesn’t. Finnick sticks his pinky in it, testing it out as a weapon, ridiculous. 

“Can you fish with it?” Katniss asks, looking at you.

You shake your head. “It’s not anything I’ve seen before.”

Katniss rolls it back and forth on her palm, thinking to herself. She stares off into the trees, making various expressions. She wipes the sweat from her face, holding it out in the moonlight. No matter how many angles she looks at it from, it makes no sense. 

She lets out an irritated sigh, jamming one end of it into the dirt. “I give up. Maybe if we hook up with Beetee or Wiress they can figure it out.”

Katniss stretches, laying down in the hut, staring at the metal object in the dirt. Peeta massages her back. You slide out, wanting to stand up. Finnick watches as you take a few steps away, knife in your hand. You cross your arms, looking down at him with your eyebrows raised.

He shakes his head at you.

Less than a minute later, Katniss gasps. “A spile!” She says, sitting upright.

“What?” Finnick asks. 

Katniss grabs the object, brushing the dirt off. She holds it up to the light again, running her finger over the lip. “It’s a spile. Sort of like a faucet. You put it in a tree and sap comes out.” She lowers the object and looks at the trees around her. “Well, the right sort of tree.”

“Sap?” You ask.

“To make syrup,” Peeta clarifies. “But there must be something else inside these trees.”

They get up at once, eyes wild and eyeing the trees, which must have water in them. Finnick plucks the spile from Katniss’s hands and goes to hammer it into the green bark of a large tree with a rock, when she stops him. “Wait. You might damage it. We need to drill a hole first.”

You reach into your waistband, grabbing out one of the smaller knives you don’t mind parting with. Peeta takes it, and gets to driving it into the tree. He takes turns with Finnick opening up the hole. Once it can hold the spile, Katniss carefully wiggles it in, and then takes a step back.

The four of you stare, waiting for something to happen. It takes almost a full minute for a single drop of water to come rolling out of the tube, dripping off the lip. Katniss goes to readjust it, changing angles, which allows a thin stream of water to begin to come out.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips at the sight of water. You each take turns drinking from the spile, desperate to combat the amount of sweat that has been leaving your body these past few hours. When you finally step away from your turn, coughing, you head to the hut. 

There’s a bowl with a few nuts still sitting inside, so you shake out the meat onto the flooring, and then head back to the spile. It’ll be easier to drink out of a bowl, you’ll be able to take in more after it’s been filled. The others back off long enough for you to get it halfway full, which is when thirst takes over again, and you begin to take several gulps.

Once drunk, the bowl is refilled, and the water is used to clean the sweat off your faces. The water’s warm, a disappointment, but when a breeze blows through, it cools your skin. When your thirst is quenched, you return to the hut, sitting inside with your knees pulled to your chest.

Everyone is clearly exhausted from the workout of hiking through the jungle all day. Katniss pulls the spile from the tree and ties it to her belt using a thin vine. She then comes to join you in the hut, with Peeta and Finnick following close behind.

“I can take first watch.” Finnick says, fiddling with the trident in his hands. “Let you get some rest.”

Katniss nods, no arguments coming from her. She and Peeta curl up together on the left side of the hut, leaving the entire right side to you. You and Finnick have a staring contest for a long while, and right when you go to tell him to wake you when he’s tired, he turns away and leaves.

“I’ll take next watch.” Katniss says without rolling over.

“I’ll wake you when I’m tired.” Finnick tells her.

You grit your teeth and hold your tongue. Katniss is younger than you and less responsible, but he doesn’t have an issue with her taking watch? You swear he’s completely backward. 

Either way, you take the opportunity to sleep. It doesn’t take very long, with the sound of Finnick shuffling through the grass, and the insects in the background. The background noise lulls you to sleep in the matter of seconds.

And you’re woken just as easily a few hours later by the sound of a bell echoing through the arena. You jerk into an upright position, knife in hand, squinting into the darkness. Finnick is a few feet away from you, paused and listening. 

When it stops, he turns to face you and Katniss, the only other two awake. Peeta has slept through the bells entirely. “I counted twelve.” Finnick says.

Katniss nods, agreeing. “Mean anything, do you think?”

“No idea.” You murmur.

You wait in silence for an announcement that never comes. You’re just beginning to relax, when a sparkling bolt of lightning strikes a tree across the arena. Thunder cracks, you jump at the intensity, wincing. 

“Go to sleep, Finnick. It’s my turn to watch, anyway.” Katniss says.

Finnick makes a face, even gives you a look, but he comes to join you and Peeta inside of the hut. Katniss gets up, loads her bow, and wanders over to a large rock to lean against.

You watch for a few curious minutes as the lightning continuously strikes the same tree, never moving from that one spot. A voice in the back of your mind tells you to remember this, and then suddenly it becomes insignificant enough for you to go back to bed.

A part of you doesn’t allow you to fully sleep. You drift in and out of consciousness, as every little change in noise brings you off the brink. You can hear when the lightning comes to an end, which can’t be more than an hour later, only for rain to start after. This keeps you awake for several minutes, wondering why the rain hadn’t begun sooner.

A cannon goes off, a sigh of frustration leaves you. You turn on your side, clamping your arms over your ears to block any further noises from reaching you. It works for maybe thirty minutes, before your eyes pop open at the realization that the rain has come to a sudden end. All at once.

You sit up, unhappy and groggy. Katniss spares you a glance, but she’s more focused on the trees. It’s not normal for rain to stop altogether, it’ll slowly fade out to a drizzle first. This means that the rain was artificial, started by the Gamemakers. And with how quick the lightning stopped, you’ll even bet that they did that, too…

Suspicious, you open your mouth to speak to Katniss, but the words die in your throat when you watch fog begin to slide in your direction, coming from where it was raining just moments ago. It’s thick and white, and its pace isn’t slowing, it’s steadily coming for you.

Your hand grabs Finnick’s thigh, squeezing tightly as you begin to shake him awake, hard. Katniss doesn’t really move from where she sits on the rocks, watching as the fog comes closer. A sugary smell invades your sinuses, Katniss blinks as if she’s been slapped.

You watch in horror as the fog begins to wrap around Katniss’s legs, she jumps to her feet, “Run!” She screams, which is all the confirmation you need. “Run!”

The fog is engineered.

Finnick snaps awake, on his feet in a single second, trident in hand as if he’s going to defend your camp against an intruder. You fly across the hut to pull Peeta to his feet, but it’s not easy. He’s heavy and half-asleep. It isn’t until Finnick steps in to help, do you need the Twelve tribute up.

You grab Finnick’s wrist, yanking him out of the hut and diagonally downward to the beach, away from every direction the fog comes at you. Katniss and Peeta are right behind you.

“What is it? What is it?” Peeta asks.

“Some kind of fog. Poisonous gas. Hurry, Peeta!” Katniss urges.

You cover a good amount of ground, occasionally looking back to check on Katniss and Peeta to make sure they’re coming, but they’ve lost momentum. Peeta has to follow directly behind Katniss to watch her feet, but even then, his prosthetic leg is getting stuck in the snarls of roots.

“We’re going to have a problem on our hands.” You tell Finnick, releasing the grip you have on him.

“What?” Finnick asks, pace slowing to see what you mean.

You both turn in time to watch as Peeta takes a hand fall, almost smacking his face on a root. Katniss tries to help him to his feet, but completely freezes as she stares at him. For a second, you’re sure he’s dead, until a spasm runs up her arm, uncontrollably twitching.

“Shit.” Finnick spits, turning to run back to help.

Katniss jerks backward, causing Peeta to stumble again. By the time Finnick gets there to help, the both of them are a mess. Katniss’s arms are out of commission, and every step Peeta takes is chunky and out of character. Katniss has to wedge her shoulder beneath Peeta’s arm to help even slightly.

They make it down another ten yards before Finnick tells Katniss to run, while he carries Peeta. You don’t move from where your feet are planted in the dirt until Finnick is keeping a decent pace in front of the fog. 

Together, you travel as far as your legs will allow you. No matter how careful you try to be, the fog manages to swipe at you in several places. Your arms, your legs, up the side of your neck, on the heels of your feet. No matter what you do, you don’t stop moving, pushing past the burning pain in your thighs and calves.

Katniss trips over a root, hits the ground hand, and rolls down a hill. It’s not even thirty seconds later when the same happens to Finnick. Peeta goes flying, Finnick’s entire front half slams into the dirt, and he’s too exhausted to pick himself up. You try to slow your pace to avoid joining them, but your foot tangles in Finnick’s boot.

The impact doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. All your thoughts scramble as you roll several times before coming to a sudden stop. You’re stuck gasping for air, staring into the foliage above, not an ounce of energy left to pick yourself up to keep running.

Katniss mutters out something incoherent, and then clears her throat. “It’s stopped.”

A wave of bliss runs over your body, you close your eyes. You’re not going to die, at least not tonight.

—

The arena’s a clock, and you had a feeling it was something along those lines. After what happened early this morning, you knew the Gamemakers were up to something, there had to be another twist. It couldn’t just be the fact that victors were reaped to be this year's tributes, they had to do something to the arena, too.

You tried telling Finnick about your theory after the monkey mutt incident, but he didn’t want to listen, of course. It wasn’t until you came across Johanna, Wiress and Beetee, did it begin to really click. Especially since Wiress was stuck on loop, repeating, “Tick tock”. 

Katniss listened to what Johanna had to say about the rain last night, which had turned out to be blood. Which had her thinking about what you had to say about Gamemaker interference. And with Wiress losing her mind, she pieced it together, herself.

“(Y/n)’s right.” Katniss suddenly said. “The arena’s a clock. And Wiress knows it, too.”

The validation from them was nice, but the look on Finnick’s face was priceless. You couldn’t help the smile you gave him. It was a way to say, “See, I can be smart and helpful”. But you think that irritated him more than anything.

Peeta carefully lays Beetee in the little bit of shade the Cornucopia provides. Beetee calls out to Wiress, causing her to come over and crouch beside him. He passes a coil of wire to her—which he had risked his life to get out of the Cornucopia during the bloodbath—and asks, “Clean it, will you?”

Wiress nods, and then heads to the edge of the center island to dunk the coil in the water. She starts to quietly sing to herself, some song about a mouse running up a clock. You’ve never heard it before.

“Oh, not the song again.” Johanna says, heavily rolling her eyes. She’s had enough of them. “That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking.”

Suddenly, Wiress gets to her feet, ominously pointing to a part of the jungle. “Two.”

You follow her finger, and find that the fog has just begun to creep onto the beach. “Yes, look, Wiress is right.” Katniss says. “It’s two o’clock and the fog has started.”

“Like clockwork,” Peeta says. “You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress.”

Wiress smiles, as if she already knows that, and goes right back to singing to herself and dunking the coil. 

“Oh, she’s more than smart,” Beetee tells you. “She’s intuitive. She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines.”

“What’s that?” Finnick asks Katniss, causing several heads to turn in her direction.

“It’s a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there’s bad air.” She says.

“What’s it do, die?” Johanna asks morbidly.

“It stops signing first. That’s when you should get out. But if the air’s too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you.” She says, walking away to look through the weapons in the Cornucopia.

Johanna is right behind her, poking around, overturning boxes. She’s searching for something in particular, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that it’s an axe. She comes up with a pair of them, and launches one at the sun-softened gold of the Cornucopia. It sticks.

Peeta squats on the ground in the sun, using the tip of a machete’s blade to draw a large circle, a smaller circle at the center, twelve spokes, the waterline. He moves quickly, as if he’s been waiting to do this all day.

“Look at how the Cornucopia’s positioned.” Peeta tells Katniss.

She wanders over, standing over his shoulder to look at his map. “The tail points toward twelve o’clock.” She says.

“Right, so this is the top of our clock,” he says, writing the numbers one through twelve around the circle. “Twelve to one is the lightning zone.” He goes on to write lightning in the wedge it belongs, moving clockwise to add blood, fog and monkeys in the next three sections.

“And ten to eleven is the wave.” Katniss says, he adds it.

Johanna and Finnick join the three of you, curious of what you’re up to. You glance at them out of habit, but have to do a double-take when you realize just how many blades they have strapped to their bodies. Tridents, axes, knives. You think Finnick even has an extra sheath of arrows for Katniss on his back.

It makes you feel unprepared, even though you took your time to select your spread of knives yesterday, during the bloodbath. While Katniss and Finnick were searching the water and fending off the Careers, you meticulously went through every set until you found the one that would be perfect for you. A match made in heaven.

“Did you notice anything unusual in the others?” Katniss asks Johanna and Beetee. They shake their heads, only mentioning the blood. “I guess they could hold anything.”

“I’m going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers’ weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we’ll stay clear of those.” Peeta says, drawing a diagonal line on the fog and wave beaches. He then sits back. “Well, it’s a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway.

Everyone nods in agreement, you look out to the jungle, curious on what else could be out there. You’ve just barely scratched the surface…

Your heart seizes in your chest at the sight of a dripping Gloss, sliding his knife across Wiress’s throat. In two jerky movements, you’ve thrown a knife at him, at the same time that Katniss has shot an arrow. While your knife slams into the center of his forehead, her arrow pierces his heart.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Cashmere running up the side of the island, but before you can even think of grabbing another knife, Johanna has buried an axe in Cashmere’s chest. 

You turn, attention focused on Finnick and repaying the favor, when you see Brutus. All you can do is tackle Finnick and Peeta, bringing them both down to the sand, narrowly missing the spear that ricochets off the Cornucopia. 

As you get up to follow them, Finnick pulls you back down, keeping you from moving from your spot. You watch helplessly as Katniss runs after the Careers by herself. In quick succession, three cannons sound, one after the other, confirming the three obvious deaths.

Right as Finnick’s grip loosens, and he begins to pull himself upright, the ground beneath you jerks, and you’re thrown on top of Finnick. The island the Cornucopia sits on top of begins to spin, gaining speed with every passing second, turning the jungle into one big blended blur.

You begin to slide through the sand, toward the water, due to the sheer amount of force. You try to save yourself by digging your fingers and shoes into the sand, desperate to hang on to anything, but it barely works. You almost make it to the edge of the island, feeling the mist of the saltwater on your face, when you come to a hard stop. 

You pull yourself to your knees, rubbing the sand out of the corners of your eyes, squinting. Katniss comes stumbling around the side of the Cornucopia, using it to hold herself up. From what you can tell, Peeta, Finnick and Johanna have managed to hang on.

None of you move from where you are, trying to catch your breaths and come back to reality. The dizziness begins to subside after a minute, enough to the point where you feel comfortable to be on your feet. The others are quick to follow.

“Where’s Volts?” Johanna asks.

Her question causes you to take a lap around the island, searching the saltwater for the man. You find him about twenty yards out, paddling hard to come back to the group. You shed your knives onto the strip of sand, diving into the water to save him without a second thought.

It doesn’t take long to reach him, and he’s still calm enough to allow you to tow him back to land. There was one time when you were in grade school—one of the younger kids was still learning how to swim. He swam out too far and he was struggling to swim back to shore. 

There’s an unspoken rule in District Four when it comes to people drowning, especially children. Even if they don’t belong to you, you go out there and save them. Their guardians could be a foot away, but if your eyes catch them first, then you need to be the one to fish them out.

Anyway, you were clearly the first to find the boy, so you went out there to get him, thinking that it was going to be easy. Obviously, the citizens of Four know a variety of swimming techniques, and you expected this kid to at least know a few. So, when you got to him, you let him grab you, thinking nothing of it.

And you almost drowned because of it.

It turns out that when people are struggling to keep their heads above water, their self-preservation kicks in. The fight or flight response. In this case, he used you as a human ladder to climb himself higher above water, pushing you down in the process. It took another two adults to come and save you after that.

Needless to say, you’re overly cautious when it comes to pulling people out of water, now. You have to be. And with a grown man like Beetee, who weighs more than you, he could push you under and keep you there. It’s a dangerous game to play.

Once you get him back to land, Peeta and Finnick work to help pull him back on the sand strip. You pull yourself up, and ring out what little clothes you have on. After the fog, the suits you were sent into the arena with completely disintegrated. You collect your knives from the sand, and follow the others back to the mouth of the Cornucopia.

Katniss is soggy now, too. She holds the coil of water in one of her hands, and the bow in the other. She probably had to pull it off of Wiress’s body. In one fluid motion, she sets it on Beetee’s lap, while he cleans his glasses. When he’s done, he unravels a small bit of the wire to inspect it.

Katniss moves to be with Peeta.

“Let’s get off this stinking island.” Johanna says, adjusting the axe in her hand.

The others grab their respected weapons, and you watch as Peeta, Johanna and Finnick head off to three different spokes. Neither you, Katniss or Beetee move from where you stand.

“Twelve o’clock, right?” Peeta says. “The tail points at twelve.”

“Before they spun us.” Finnick says. “I was judging by the sun.”

“The sun only tells you it’s going on four, Finnick.” Katniss informs him.

“I think Katniss’s point is, knowing the time doesn’t mean you necessarily know where four is on the clock. You might have a general idea of the direction. Unless you consider that they may have shifted the outer ring of jungle as well.” Beetee pitches in.

Katniss pauses for a moment, “Yes, so any one of these paths could lead to twelve o’clock.”

They circle the Cornucopia, inspecting the jungle, looking for a difference in each wedge, but they can’t find any. Katniss mentions something about how the lightning tree was huge and impossible to miss last night, yet now it seems like there’s a tree like that in every slice. Johanna thinks to follow Enobaria’s and Brutus’s footsteps, but they were blown away by the wind when the Cornucopia was spinning.

“I should have never mentioned the clock.” Katniss shakes her head. “Now they’ve taken that advantage away as well.”

“Only temporarily.” Beetee says. “At ten, we’ll see the wave again and be back on track.”

“Yes, they can’t redesign the whole arena.” Peeta rubs her shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter.” Johanna sighs impatiently. “You had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless.” She pops out a hip, crossing her arms. “Come on, I need water. Anyone have a good gut feeling?”

A path is chosen at random, with Johanna leading, and you and Finnick taking up the rear. You look back at the Cornucopia, eyeing it to make sure that what’s left of the Careers isn’t following your group. It’s clear.

“I bet you’re glad that I’m here.” You tell Finnick, who’s walking in front of you. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be injured by now.”

Finnick comes to a dead stop in front of you, turning around to glare. The others don’t notice, continuing down the sand strip. He waits to make sure there’s a distance between you two and them before he lowers his voice, eyebrows turned downward.

“No, (Y/n), I’m not happy you’re here.” He snaps. “Why would I be? I’ve been babysitting you the entire time to make sure you don’t run off and do anything stupid.”

“Who was awake when the fog came rolling in?” You shoot back, face twisted. “And who was the one that tackled you and Peeta to keep you from getting hurt by Enobaria and Brutus?” 

“I don’t need you.” He suddenly says, squinting. “In the case that you wouldn’t have been here, Johanna would’ve had my back just the same. I don’t need another teenager to watch over, and that’s exactly what you are.”

“You don’t need to watch over me.” You tell Finnick, “I can take care of myself, and I’ve done just fine this entire time.”

“Wonder why.” He says, his tone sarcastic. 

He turns around, going back to following your group.

“You’re going to eat your words, Finnick.” You tell him.

—

You watch as Beetee calls Finnick over to assist him with the lightning tree, continuing with the rebel plan. He crouches down next to the coil of wire, unrolling yards upon yards of it, putting it off to the side, but never detaching it from the rest. While he does this, he has Finnick secure the loose end tightly around a broken branch that he lays on the ground when he’s done.

They then stand on either side of the tree, passing the spool back and forth as they unravel the coil. They spend a good five minutes just aimlessly wrapping it around the trunk before Beetee begins to create a pattern out of where his wire hits. Like it has to be in a certain spot in order for it to work properly.

By the time the wave begins, they’re beginning to finish. Beetee waits for the rumbling of the water in the distance to stop, and then he reveals the rest of the plan that he’s been keeping to himself. 

Since you, Katniss and Johanna move quickly through the jungle on your own, he wants the three of you to take the coil down to the center water, unwinding the wire as you go down. He’s very specific when he tells you to lay it across the beach at the twelve spoke, and to swim the coil out as deep as you can, making sure that it sinks when you let go.

After that, you have to run for the jungle. 

“If you leave, right now, you should make it to safety.” Beetee finishes, adjusting the glasses on his face.

“I want to go with them as a guard.” Peeta says immediately.

“You’re too slow. Besides, I’ll need you on this end. Katniss will guard.” Beetee tells him. “There’s no time to debate this. I’m sorry. If the girls are to get out of there alive, they need to move now.” He hands the coil over to Johanna.

“Remember what happened during the fog?” You ask Peeta, raising your eyebrows.

A small frown comes over his lips, Katniss closes the distance between them. “It’s okay.” She murmurs. “We’ll just drop the coil and come straight back up.”

“Not into the lightning zone.” Beetee reminds her. “Head for the tree in the one-to-two o’clock sector. If you find you’re running out of time, move over one more. Don’t even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage.”

Katniss gently cups Peeta’s cheeks with her hands. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you at midnight.” She kisses him, and then turns to face you and Johanna. “Ready?”

“Why not?” Johanna shrugs. “You two guard, I’ll unwind. We can trade off later.”

They begin to head down the slope, you hesitate, looking in Finnick’s direction, only to find that his back is turned to you, disinterested. He’s probably just happy that he doesn’t have to worry about you for the next hour. If you had to guess, he had a conversation with Johanna early this morning about keeping an eye on you. And you know she won’t hesitate to ‘put you in your place’ if she sees fit.

It’s an unfair advantage.

You follow behind Katniss and Johanna, knife in hand, keeping an eye on the trees around you. A lot of things need to happen tonight in order for you to reach the goal, which is being rescued out of here. Haymitch has been sending you signals, as he promised, through the forms of district bread. He’s confirmed the day and time several times already, so there’s not a question in your mind when it’s happening.

Tonight, at midnight.

Haymitch has specific instructions to keep Katniss and Peeta unaware of what’s going on, because Katniss has a tendency to overthink and fuck up. And Peeta performs best when he doesn’t know that people are moving around him. In the start, it was yours and Finnick’s job to ensure that they made it out of the bloodbath alive.

Beetee and Wiress were necessary in the long run for the plan to leave the arena. It’s a shame that Wiress didn’t make it, but in the state she was in, she wouldn’t have been much help anymore. Besides managing to confirm what you said about the arena possibly being a clock.

As for Johanna and Blight, they were tasked with finding your group and joining it. They happened to come across the Three tributes in the bloodbath, rescued them, and got stuck with them. Of course, you all came together eventually, but you think if Johanna had joined any sooner, that the alliance would’ve fallen apart.

After all, Johanna had slapped Katniss not even five minutes into their conversation, yesterday. 

Anyway, you think Beetee’s trying to cause a blackout with the lightning tree. It’s no secret that the arenas are domes and it’s all a facade. Supposedly, the lightning from the sky will hit the tree, which is connected to the wire that brings it to the water. It’ll fry everything in the center, but at the same time, it should destroy the dome. 

All cameras will shut off, the rebel hovercraft will come in, take all of you in, and then take you to… wherever it was that Haymitch and Plutarch had in mind.

In the meantime, while this is happening, the trackers in your arms need to be taken out. More importantly, Katniss and Peeta’s trackers. They will be the first people the Capitol will try and capture, with the rest of you following behind in varying degrees of importance, based on your role. 

In theory, this is straightforward and easy. In action, if even one unpredicted event happens, it could screw the entire plan.

“Better hurry.” Johanna says. “I want to put a lot of distance between me and that water before the lightning hits. Just in case Volts miscalculated something.”

“I’ll take the coil for a while.” Katniss says, glancing over her shoulder. “You can take it next, (Y/n).”

“Sounds good to me.” You nod.

“Here.” Johanna says, passing the coil over to Katniss.

Neither of them have let go from the coil, when you watch as the wire vibrates. And then suddenly, it springs back at you. You’re barely able to jerk out of the way before the end comes snaking up to your feet, the wire wrapped in tangled loops and curls around their wrists.

There’s a moment of silence between the three of you, which is when your heart starts to pound in your chest. Someone farther up has just cut the wire on purpose, and it’ll be a matter of minutes before they’re here.

Johanna’s eyes dart to yours, and she mouths, “Now.”

For a moment, you’re not exactly sure what you’re supposed to do, until Katniss lets go of the wire, leaving only Johanna to hold it. Just as Katniss begins to load her bow to  protect herself, Johanna swings the coil back and slams it into the side of Katniss’s head.

Oh.

Johanna drags a half-conscious Katniss down the slope and underneath a ledge of dirt, where the grass and ferns hide her well in the dark. She sits on Katniss’s chest, knees pressed to her shoulders. There’s not even a moment of hesitation when she slices through Katniss’s forearm, right where they insert the tracker.

The sound of greenery rustling is what breaks you away, eyes narrowing on some dark figures coming down the jungle. You get into a crouch, carefully backing down to be next to Johanna, who’s crushing the tracker against a root. When she’s done, she wipes her bloody hands on Katniss’s face.

“Stay down!” Johanna hisses, getting off of her.

“They’re coming.” You tell her, pointing at the tributes that are getting closer, it has to be the Careers. “Let’s run this way and try to lead them back up.”

“I’ll go first.” Johanna says, just before taking off.

She makes a lot of noise, you think you can even hear Enobaria and Brutus shouting after you two. You try to keep close, but some of her movements are unpredictable, trying to lose your opponents in the darkness of the trees. However, they must have planned for a chase, because you watch Enobaria split off, heading back to the lightning tree.

“She’s going back to the tree!” You shout to Johanna.

“Split off!” She yells back at you. “I got him!”

At the next opportunity, you round a tree and begin to haul ass back to where the other half of the group should be. It sounds like Brutus continues to follow Johanna, so you don’t bother with waiting to make sure she’s okay. She’s got her axe, and she’s one of the fiercest tributes there are.

You’re nearing the tree when the sound of clicking begins—the insects from the eleven sector have come to life. You have less than an hour to gather everyone and get out of the arena alive.

You can see the back of Enobaria’s ponytail swishing, as she breaks through the treeline and goes hurdling to the only person in the clearing. It’s Beetee, the figure is too short to be Finnick.

“Hey!” You shout, trying to defer her attention, but she’s already swung her sword at Beetee, and she’s got him good.

He falls to the dirt, groaning, gripping a spot on his side. When Enobaria turns to face you, the blood at the tip of her weapon shines in the moonlight. She bares her pointy teeth in a sick smile.

“You want a taste?” She asks, coming toward you.

“Bring it.” You tell her.

You let her swing at you, and you deflect her with the blade of your knife, which holds up well under the momentum. You shove back at her, causing her to stumble, giving you enough time to lead her away from Beetee, and back out into the trees. 

You don’t go far when a blast of electric air comes through the jungle in a wave. The hairs on the back of your neck stand, goosebumps covering your arms. The last time this happened, Peeta drove himself into the force field, and it almost killed him.

Did Beetee…?

A cannon blasts.

You stop and lunge back at Enobaria, knife aimed for her throat, but she blocks you off, throwing you to the ground. You tumble, and get back to your feet in time to jerk away from her blade, which slams into the dirt.

“Katniss! (Y/n)!” Finnick shouts. “Johanna!”

“Finnick!” You call back, Enobaria glowers.

“(Y/n)!”

“Quick!” You shout back at him, jumping to tackle Enobaria.

She doesn’t move in time, allowing your shoulder to slam into her stomach. You hit the dirt, almost flying over the top of her, but you manage to catch yourself on a root, grounding you. With the knife in your hand, you go to bring it down to stab her anywhere.

She almost grabs your wrist, but her hands are too slippery, either from blood or from sweat. The knife slams into her side, and you manage to pull it out and stab her again before there’s more shouting, making you look up.

“Katniss!” A different voice calls, it’s farther away. “Katniss!”

“Peeta!” It has to be Katniss responding, judging by the way she’s screaming. How did she get so close to the tree? “Peeta! I’m here! Peeta!” She shouts. “I’m here! I’m here! Peeta!” 

You watch as Finnick comes barreling through the trees, right past where you are with Enobaria. She’s still struggling beneath you, fingers reaching for her sword. You bring back the end of your knife, slamming the butt of it against her forehead with as much force as  you can muster, knocking her out, and hopefully giving her a concussion.

You trip over her body, falling into the leaves. Finnick stops several feet ahead, turning back to see who it is.

“Go!” You motion for him to keep running. “Get Katniss, I’m fine!”

He hesitates, but ultimately ends up listening to you, going for the lightning tree. You manage to follow loosely, taking your time, assuming that it's another ten minutes before the lightning is to begin.

Just as you cross the treeline again, the hair on your arms fly up, stick straight, warning you of what's to come. You can see Katniss’s arrow is aimed in Finnick’s direction, but he’s cluelessly walking into it.

You open your mouth to shout a warning, but the words die in your throat. Suddenly, she changes her mind, turning robotically to the force field behind her, pulling an arrow back. It isn’t until she releases it, do you see the shimmering gold wire attached to the arrow.

The lightning strikes the tree, a flash of white flies up the wire and straight back into the dome, causing it to burst into a blue light. The shock wave just a few minutes ago has nothing on this one.

You’re thrown through the air, crash to the ground, breath sucked from your lungs. As you try to get a hold of your breathing, you go to reach for your knife, just a few inches away, but you’re stuck. You can’t move. 

All you can do is watch as the dome shuts off, blacking out the arena for just a few seconds, and then it explodes. In the blink of an eye, the forest lights on fire, the heat of the flame licking at your sensitive skin.

Just as the sky begins to fall, a hovercraft materializes, a claw dropped. It has to be the rebels, coming to save you. You watch as one tribute is saved, it vaguely looks like Beetee. A second one is scooped up, bronze hair shining in the blaze, that has to be Finnick. On the third time, you think it’s Katniss, she’s the only girl that was in the area.

You watch as the claw disappears inside of the hovercraft, and you wait for it to be sent back down again, but the longer the seconds drag on, the more you begin to worry. They’re going to come back down again, right? They’re going to get everyone out of the arena, that’s the plan—

Until the hovercraft blends back into the sky and disappears, leaving you behind.

[captain-hawks]

wriothesley x f!reader

c: 18+, masturbation, voyeurism, fantasizing about—oral sex (f!receiving), cum eating, unprotected p in v, creampie, spit kink, anal

You’re so fucking distracting.

It’s been three weeks, four days, and just shy of fifteen hours since you arrived at the Fortress of Meropide as Sigwinne’s new assistant in the infirmary. 

Coincidentally, it’s also been three weeks, four days, and—yes—nearly fifteen hours since Wriothesley has managed to get anything of note done around the prison. 

It’s your fault, though you’re hardly doing it on purpose.

The issue is that Wriothesley doesn’t get distracted. As the prison’s administrator, he hardly has time to let his attention stray for a pretty face these days. If he’s in want of release, it’s not difficult to pay a visit above the surface—his title alone is enough to earn the interest of many a lady in the Court of Fontaine. 

But now?

Now, all it takes is a brief, standard check-in at the infirmary to send his plans for the morning spiraling, throat going dry at the sight of you bent over and speaking quietly to a patient. The polite thing to do would be to avert his eyes, and if he were a stronger man, perhaps he would.

But Wriothesley is a weak man when presented with the object of his distraction in a dress that’s just a bit too short, revealing the black garters holding your thigh-high stockings in place and thus a view of the smooth, bare skin just below the curve of your ass. 

And whatever Sigwinne is saying is entirely lost on him when you drop something, bending even further to the floor and revealing a thin, lacy strip of fabric that disappears between your supple cheeks—are those supposed to be panties?

As with most days that he sees you, Wriothesley can barely make it back to the privacy of his office fast enough, impatiently palming himself through his slacks while his boots storm up the rounded staircase. More often than not, his cock is already in his hand before the lock on the door has clicked into place, his other hand shoved between his teeth to stifle his moans as his hips eagerly jerk into his spit-slick fist.

He spends more time than he’d care to admit thinking about how you’d look bent over the smooth wood surface of his desk, the way your cries of pleasure would echo throughout the chamber as he fucks you. 

It drives him nearly mad—wondering how you’d taste on his tongue, how your legs would feel wrapped around him as he sucks on your clit and pumps two fingers into the soaked, dripping heat between your legs.

Would you bury your fingers in his hair, pull the strands so hard that his cock aches and throbs?

Would you whimper when he bottoms out inside of you, thick cock buried to the hilt in your gushing pussy?

Would you let him swipe a thumb along your bottom lip, tugging your mouth open to spit inside? (Would your pretty little cunt clench down hard on his cock while he does it, lips parting to beg for more?)

Would you let him fill you with his hot, thick seed, only for him to send you hurtling over the edge again as he laps his own cum from your sensitive folds afterward?

–

The feet of Wriothesley’s heavy chair drag against the floorboards as the rough upward thrusts of his hips begin to grow sloppy, the firm, steady strokes of his hand having quickly dissolved into full-on fucking his fist with untethered desperation. His eyes are closed, legs spread wide, lips slightly parted as he groans over the mental image of his hands shoving up the skirt of your dress, one finger hooking in the strap of a garter and letting it snap against the back of your thigh. 

And he’s so gone, so fucking gone on the thought of you moaning and keening and begging for him to stuff his cock in your tight little ass for the first time, that he doesn’t hear the repeated knocks on the door of his office. 

–

Honestly, does he ever have a free moment?

Pressing your ear to the door of Wriothesley’s office after you hear a chair move, your eyes widen when you’re met with the sound of the Duke’s rough, lewd grunts of pleasure instead.

Grunts punctuated by unmistakably slick, wet sounds that have you unconsciously clenching your thighs together, nipples stiffening against the tight fabric of your dress.

And then you hear it—your name, followed by a strangled, near-shouted moan of pleasure and ragged, gasping breaths.

Oh.

He—

“Is he in there?” The sudden sound of Sigwinne’s voice nearly gives you a heart attack, you hadn’t even heard her come up the stairs.

Your heartbeat is erratic as you turn to look at the Melusine and her pleasant, patient smile.

“I don’t think so,” you answer far too quickly. “Let’s go check the Production Zone.”

…and well, if you slip your fingers into your damp panties in the darkness of your private dorm later that evening, quietly panting the Duke’s name into your pillow, well—nobody needs to know, right?

[ladyloveandjustice]

My Favorite New Manga and Graphic Novels I Read in 2024

I read 114 manga volumes and graphic novels last year! Here’s a link to my Goodreads year in books, which tallies one book from each manga series ( I've arranged it so the manga/gns at the beginning, the novels start with Red, White & Royal Blue) and my storygraph wrap up.  

I have a post for my favorite books of 2024 you can read here! I also have a post on my top 12 anime for 2024 and you can read it here! (Also, since a lot of this is yuri, check out my broader yuri manga rec post here!)

Now let's get to all the new manga, with a little check in on ongoing titles at the bottom!

Love Bullet by inee

When someone who never had the chance to experience love meets an untimely death, they're given a chance to become a cupid. If they help enough people fall in love, they earn the chance to have another shot at life. Koharu meets her end after her best friend, Aki, confesses her love to her, and she becomes a cupid...

Love Bullet is a brand new yuri with fun characters and a cute art style that feels a little charmingly retro. The concept of modern day cupids using firearms and behaving like sharpshooters in an action movie is so fun, but there's also a beating heart behind it. The tragedy of Koharu's life being cut sort and the bittersweet arc where Koharu tries to help her living best friend deal with her lingering trauma over her sudden death...it's touching and well written. All the cupids already have a really great dynamic, and as befitting a yuri, the way the girls approach their jobs is casually queer, with the "targets" often shown to have both guy and girl options.

It's a story with great potential that seems like it could go a ton of interesting places. It's a little different than the rest of this list that it's not officially out in English yet. The reason it's here is because the author sent out an SOS that the first Japanese volume is struggling in sales, and the international yuri community, excited about the awesome story they've seen so far, rose to the challenge and bought out the first volume in Japanese! So far it's been successful! If you end up reading it (you'll have to rely on scanlation but they're easy to find) or even if you just simply want to support a cool story. I really encourage you to do the same. Here's a document on how to buy the Japanese version. Hopefully, the grassroots support will mean we get an official English release soon!

The Summer You Were There by Yuama

All you lovers of tragic lesbians, this is for you. The manga follows Shizuku, a deeply depressed girl who is so guilty about something in her past she's got some serious suicidal ideation going. But when Kaori, a girl in her class, reads her writing and guesses what's behind it, she challenges Shizuku to a bet where she has to write a novel about a romance between the two of them. Now they're suddenly spending a lot of time together, and Kaori is helping Shizuku unpack her guilt. However, Kaori is struggling too. She's actually very sick, and though she hides it, it's getting worse.

The manga is a heart wrenching meditation on grief and redemption. For very different reasons, both girls think they don't deserve love and both girls are shown they're very, very wrong by the other.

I like how Kaori tries to be the manic pixie dream girl who fixes all of Shizuku's problems, but then Shizuku very firmly says "what the hell. no. You need support too" and they're both allowed to be full characters who find solace in each other. Shizuku's backstory is also really interesting, and it hits hard. It's just a very touching, but very sad read.

Barefoot Gen by Keiji Nakazawa

Barefoot Gen is a semi-autobiographical manga by Hiroshima survivor Nakazawa Keiji. Nakazawa said the story is taken not just from his life, but those of fellow survivors he talked to and lived with.

The story follows a boy named Gen, depicting how most of his family were killed by the atomic bomb, and how he struggled to survive in a post-war Japan, while surrounded by the horrible effects of radiation poisoning, economic devastation, and American imperialism.

It sticks out from other animanga I've seen about WWII bombings in that it's very critical and angry at the Japanese government, to the point that Gen even calls the Emperor a war criminal. What stands out even more is how direct it is in denouncing of Japan's war crimes against Korea and China, as well as condemning Japanese racism against Koreans. It makes sure you know that Korean POWs and forced laborers also died and suffered because of the bomb, and that the Japanese doctors discriminated against them, forcing Koreans to wait on receiving medical treatment until every Japanese person was treated.

It does a stomach churning, effective job depicting the horror of radiation poisoning and war, and its message is extremely firm: Its the common people who suffer in the wars while those in power exploit them, that war and violence are an endless vicious cycle we must break free from, and nuclear bombing must never happen again.

Though it puts a lot of blame on the Japanese government for entering the war and on citizens for supporting it, the story is also critical of America's cruelty and imperialism, depicting lot of things America did to Japanese citizens post-war we don't get taught-- like soldiers sexually assaulting Japanese women, like getting Japanese labor activists and protestors removed from their jobs, like literally torturing Japanese leftists, like luring Japanese citizens to treatment centers with promises of medical aid for radiation sickness, only to collect the data and send them off with no help...

Though the manga is brutal, there are moments of comradery and kindness (and a lot of silly humor). Gen helps a lot of people along the way, and his resilience and his message not to give up is the heart of the manga. It's educational and very direct about subjects that both sides don't want to acknowledge-- both Japanese nationalists and American nationalists do not like it (you can learn more about that here). Despite extremely gruesome content, it's aimed at kids, so it's very blunt and direct in its messages and dialogue. But that can be kind of refreshing.

 It can get a little repetitive on occasion and storylines and characters tend to be introduced very abruptly, but it does keep you rooting for and feeling for the characters all the way through. I think it's an essential, highly informative and unforgettable read, and everyone should read at least a little bit. Or at the very least, read this interview with Nakazawa. If you can't handle the gruesome imagery of the comic, he describes his experience pretty in depth here, and there's a lot of other insight.

This Monster wants to Eat Me by Sai Naekawa

Hinako is a depressed girl who survived a terrible trauma and has been searching for death ever since. One day she gets approached by, Shiori, a mermaid who wants to eat her…but the thing is, this monster mermaid is a gourmet who wants her to be as delicious as possible, which means she’s going to make Hinako happy first before she eats her (as apparently that enhances her flavor). In the meantime Shiori has to fight off all the other monsters who want to snack on Hinako.

This is TOP TIER yuri horror and a must read for any lover of monster girls. It was custom made for a freak like me, who thinks a monster girl covered in the blood of her enemies seductively telling the protagonist she wants to devour her is the stuff that dreams are made of.

Shiori, the woman-eating mermaid in question, is a fascinating character right off the bat, always having a hint of menace and inhuman mystery, but showing some potential for genuinely caring for Hinako someday. There's an ongoing mystery of why monsters are so attracted to Hinako that's a good hook, as is the irony of Hinako starting to come alive thanks to a girl who wants to kill her. It's good stuff! And it'll get an anime soon, which I'm praying is worthy of such a cool story.

The Guy She Was Interested Wasn’t a Guy at All by Sumiko Arai

The green yuri! This web manga finally gotten a physical release this year! It tells the story of Mitsuki, a girl who works at a record shop. Her classmate Aya wanders in. Aya doesn't recognize Mitsuki with a face mask and hair hidden by a cap and immediately assumes Mitsuki's a guy. They bond over their mutual love of rock music and slowly start to get closer…and Aya finds her heart is fluttering not only over this mysterious boy, but her female classmate that seems a lot like him...

Despite it's clunky title, this manga makes a premise that could have been painfully cliche and, in the worst case, extremely uncomfortable and makes it work. It never swings into homophobic or transphobic territory imo. It helps that Aya is clearly catching feelings for "girl" Mitsuki along with "guy" Mitsuki from the beginning, subconsciously knowing they're the same person.

The focus of the story is the way their relationship develops through a shared love of Western rock music and it really captures the joy of finding someone who can share your interests and the affection that can spring up for that. The characters are very likeable and cute, the art is absolutely gorgeous, and the story as a whole has this laid back, naturalistic feeling while still developing at a good pace. I just really enjoy kicking back with my green yuri, and it's good reputation is well earned!

Maus by Art Spiegelman

This comic about Spiegelman interviewing his father, a Holocaust survivor, and learning his story (with Nazis being represented as cats and Jewish people as mice) is, of course, incredibly well known to the point it feels almost redundant to talk about it. But I did read it cover to cover for the first time last year, and unsurprisingly it's a great piece of art and an important story for anyone to look into.

The parts recounting the Holocaust were heartbreaking and horrifying as expected, and I'd expected that. But the things I hadn't heard as much about was how much the book explored Spiegelman's complicated relationship with his father, and his anxieties as an artist and whether he was the right one to tell this story. It was fascinating to see him struggle with those things, and it added a lot of layers.

The Moon on a Rainy Night by Kuzushiro

One rainy night, Saki runs into Kanon and is immediately infatuated with the other girl. When she sees Kanon at school, she discovers Kanon is hard of hearing. Kanon is understandably frustrated at the ableism she tends to endure. But as Saki reaches out and gets to know her, Kanon starts to open up. And Saki, having gone through struggles related to her sexuality in the past, starts getting anxious about her feelings for Kanon...

The Moon on a Rainy Night is just... REALLY good. Kanon is just a great character, and as a lover of stubborn, prickly girls I just find her so charming. She has a lot going on with her, like her interest in music and relationship with her family and various quirks.

One thing I really like is how narrative allows her to be frustrated about the stuff she goes through, allows her to have complex feelings about being disabled, and pays attention the little details. She has to clear up misconceptions she can't hear anything, she points out that only 20 percent of deaf people use sign language (but starts using it when she really relates to a movie and the way the cute actor uses it, which is such a teenager thing to do), the lip reading isn't treated as some magic thing, Kanon has to remind people to look at her or she can't hear them, and she misreads things a fair amount.

I'm not hard of hearing, so I'm far from the authority, but most examples of deaf and/or hard-of-hearing female characters I can think of in anime (okay so there's only two I can think of, can't say that qualifies as a pattern) are depicted as shy, super sweet and socially naive, so it's refreshing to have a character who brings some variety.

Saki is also super compelling as she wrestles with her insecurities.I really related when she was learning sign language and got bummed out by the heteronormativity of one sign (using "man" and "woman" for marriage). I also like that Saki finds an adult lesbian who gently supports her and mentors her, it's all very sweet. It's just a fantastic romance and character study, and I hope the upcoming anime does it justice.

Wash Day Diaries by Jamila Rowser and Robyn Smith

Wash Day Diaries follows four best friends and their daily lives through interconnected short stories. As the official summary states: "The book takes its title from the wash day experience shared by Black women everywhere of setting aside all plans and responsibilities for a full day of washing, conditioning, and nourishing their hair".

The comic makes a great use of color to reflect the characters' moods, and the girls are drawn vibrantly and distinctively. The peek into the characters' daily lives feels like getting to know some good friends, and there's a great attention to detail, especially with the comic's beautiful step-by-step depiction of how each woman does her hair and what it says about her.

 The comic touches on topics like depression, dementia, and homophobia. Just like real life, these things aren't neatly resolved, but the story does offer some hope and catharsis. It's a pretty quick read, but it's packed with good stuff.

Magilumiere Magical Girls Inc. by Yu Aoki

I'm going to give myself a little break and just reuse my entry for the anime. (The only difference between them is that the manga flows a bit better than the anime, moving at a faster pace with huge panels suiting the art style and the action!)

Being a magical girl is no longer the domain of teenagers, and has evolved into an actual career dominated by adult women. Kana becomes a magical girl for a scrappy start up company, and tries her best to navigate working life.

It’s the magical girl story about adult women I’ve been craving for years! Magical girl media often explores the struggles of adolescence and growing up, and this show takes us to the next step by using magical girls to explore what it’s like to be a young woman entering the working world. The focus is one Kana struggling to grow her confidence and accept support from her workplace, but it also has a lot to say about companies exploiting their workers, prizing efficiency and growth over actually taking care of their customers, and it shows how the world could be better than what it is right now. Check out my review here for more detail!

I Married My Female Friend by Shio Usui

A pair of best friends enter a platonic marriage they both agreed to with the promise they’ll divorce if one of them falls in love. But one woman has decidedly not platonic feelings for her wife, and is trying to repress them...

This is a sweet, laid-back story from the creator of Doughnuts Under the Crescent Moon. It has a very slice-of-life feel, with the characters feelings and conflicts developing subtlety. There's a focus on domestic life and the compromises and struggles one makes along the way. It's set in a world where gay marriage is legal in Japan, which is cool to see. If you liked Doughnuts, or are just looking for a chill yuri, I'd check this out!

Himawari House by Harmony Becker

 Himawari House follows the story of Nao, a half-Japanese woman who immigrated to America when she was young. She's now returning to Japan and feels a feels a deep sadness from how disconnected she's gotten from Japan's language and culture. While in Japan, she lives with two other girls, Hyejung and Tina, who are from South Korea and Singapore respectively. They form a friendship as all of them struggle to get used to Japan and deal with language barriers.

We get the interconnected stories of all three girls, and all of them are really interesting in their own way. This story does a lot of cool things with language, for example, showing words fading out when someone can't understand them, giving the reader the same experience the character is having trying to understand the language. It was a fascinating experience. The book does an effective job exploring Nao's feelings of alienation from both America and Japan, while having a lot of other interesting plotlines that made all the characters feel rounded and developed, such as struggles with independence and expectations from parents, trying to navigate romances, and dealing with homesickness. The art is beautiful as well. This is a well crafted and insightful story, that you might find especially great if you're interested in languages, cultures, stories about identity, and stories about Japan.

Kiss and White Lily for My Dearest Girl by Canno

Kiss and White Lily follows multiple lesbian relationships, with its main storyline being about two academic rivals, where one is determined to rank first in class, and the other is an effortless genius who becomes intrigued at the possibility of someone beating her.

The main couple have the kind of messy combative sexual tension I wish we’d see more often in yuri because it’s so good. I just love the drama and mixture of rage and attraction. The manga follows other couples too and while some stories are stronger than others, they're all usually entertaining in some way and its fun to watch the characters grow. The art's also very cute and the characters are vibrant. The ending is really strong too, putting a perfect cap on the story of the main couple especially.

However, big warning for some nonconsensual kisses in early volumes, with Kurosawa being especially pushy. There's also a storyline with...well it does leave you a little wiggle room on whether it's actually incest between a minor and an adult portrayed romantically??? but um. the implication is strong. Fortunately, that's mainly contained to the seventh volume--you can just skip any stories about the sisters.

When the manga is good, it's really good, and that makes up for some of the questionable elements for me, even if I wish they weren't there. You might agree or disagree!

Ongoing and ended titles:

Here's a look at some of the ongoing titles I've been following! You can look at this post for breakdowns of what they're all about and why I recommend them.

I Think My Son is Gay and I Want to Be a Wall both wrapped up with fairly open endings but remained good reads over all. I finally got around to finishing After Hours, a yuri about a girl who gets ditched by her friend at the club, only to meet a cool punk girl who introduces her to the world of DJ-ing. It's a very charming three volume tale, and I love the playful vibe and more natural-sounding dialogue, especially for the cool party-girl love interest.

There are several manga that just stay the course as far as being excellent go: Otherside Picnic (which is finally at some of the best parts of the light novels! It's getting real!), Monthly Girls Nozaki-kun, Witch Hat Atelier, A Man and his Cat, How Do We Relationship, March Come in Like a Lion, The Summer Hikaru Died and She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat.

For Yuri is my Job, I have to warn for a intense predatory sexual assault scene between an adult antagonist and one of the underage main characters. It's even ambiguous whether the underage character in question got raped for a few pages (but she wasn't). It's completely framed as a an evil, bad act by the antagonist, but how it was handled was SO intense and kind of weird I'm not sure how I feel about it. Yona of the Dawn has gotten incredibly intense lately and continues extremely slowly but surely approaching the finale. Maybe we'll get it in four years or something.

And that it! I'm going to happily keep reading all these manga, as well as continue checking out some new ones, like Akane-banashi! I hope you enjoyed these recs.

[whirlybirbs]

About "Bruised Ego"

If I may ask how long has Toshinori been attracted to Derecho? Has it been one of those "for a villain, i'd tap that." Or more of a developed after the rehab? Has there been moments of where they go out to eat and Derecho or All Might get hit on leading to the other person to get a little jealous.

But honestly amazing writing as always, I've been following since the ben solo days and still go back to read them every now and then!!

it's complicated.

truthfully, pre-villain rehab derecho is dangerous.

you're some old money, long standing yakuza's prized guard dog, constantly amped up on quirk enhancers — a drug i personally consider the biggest, baddest stimulant crossed with an immediate performance enhancer. it's essentially like feeding you a live wire.

all might's agency has a task force dedicated to arresting derecho — or, well you. before you had a hero name. before you were anything short of a frenzied, violent enforcer on a short leash. back when you were a grinning mugshot and an extensive rap sheet.

you were different, then.

toshinori knows it's the drugs — he knows that's how you came close to nearly killing him that one night. it's how he learned not to go toe-to-toe with you in the rain. water is a conductor and all that.

you are beautiful — and you were back then, too. scarier. tougher. less of a light in your eyes and more of a blood thirst that earned you title of most wanted. it's almost like a knife's edge. get too close and you'll get cut.

toshinori likes strong women. strong men, too.

but back then, he hated you.

there was a sliver of him that knew you were a victim of your circumstances — but all the playful rivalry went out the window that night in april when your fists cracked across his face in the pouring rain and you swore you'd kill him and everyone he ever loved.

I LOVE MAKING YOU BLEED.

it's the night you almost flatlined back in that disgusting, cold yakuza safe-house. it's a wake-up call. you flew too close to the sun. one breath away from an overdose you wouldn't come back from.

he arrests you the next time you go head to head, after a botched robbery downtown. you... you just can't keep doing it anymore.

it's that image that winds up on the front page of every newspaper in japan — the one with your chest slammed down against the hood of a detectives car, your legs spread, and all might gripping the cuffs behind your back to tightly you had bruises for weeks.

they muzzle you.

it's... poetic, really.

truth be told, prison is the best thing that ever happens to you.

the villain rehab program is second.

it takes toshinori a long time to agree — with a lot of bargaining and parol restrictions placed on your head. but the hero commission are different sort of vile ilk. the kind you don't argue with.

it takes toshinori a long time to even loosen up around you, too. truth be told, he regrets to admit he was convinced you would end up back behind bars — this time in tartarus.

you're irritable, short-tempered, violent, and often times cruel.

but you're smart. and, despite your circumstances, you do have a good heart. slowly, toshinori can see the fear melt away and you're less like a cornered dog snapping its jaw.

you take praise well. you enjoy routine. you begin to attend those meetings gran torino recommended — after all, it's not just villains who struggle with quirk enhancer addiction. there are plenty of heroes who have wandered down that path, seeking greatness at the cost of their sobriety.

it's slow. a new sort of dangerous. over time, you become enmeshed in his life in a different way than years ago. now, it's through text typos and late night patrols. it's you letting toshinori hitch a ride on the back of your yamaha ninja. it's comfortable silence in the agency's infirmary after a long mission.

and when you smile. well, shit.

yea, he's always liked strong women.

and you're dangerous.

— a reference to this fic here ;

[abby-s-phillips]

Brain Rot

Best Friend!Todoroki x Reader

Summary: You stumble across a brain rot TikTok trend that you have to show Shoto. You try to think of the perfect person to prank, and who better than Mr. Aizawa.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 736

Notes: I'm so sorry, I think it would be absolutely hilarious to see Mr. Aizawa do the brain rot trend.

It was the weekend, which naturally meant laying in bed and doom scrolling on TikTok. And that's when you find it. Mixed among dancing videos and BookTok recommendations: the "Brain Rot" trend. In which people get unsuspecting adults to read internet brain rot words.

You jump out of bed and practically run to Shoto's dorm room, pounding on the door. He opens it without a word, his expression unimpressed. You don't say anything, and instead hand him your phone, starting the video.

He watches in silence, his eyes flicking over the screen.

"Why are you showing me this?" he asks flatly.

"Shoto, we have to prank Mr. Aizawa," you whisper, "Imagine how funny it would be!"

You can practically see the contemplation in Shoto's eyes. He pauses for a moment, thinking it over.

"Okay," he agrees.

"But it can't be us," you continue, "That would be way too obvious."

He nods in agreement. In order for Mr. Aizawa to buy it, you needed someone that he would never suspect. You both think for a second, and then it dawns on you.

"Iida," you say in unison.

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

You know that you have one shot. It has to sound important enough for Iida to take seriously, but not so enthusiastic that he becomes suspicious. Which is how you ended up with a paper titled "Modern Communication: Implementing Gen Z Vernacular In The Classroom" (title courtesy of Shoto).

"Hey, Iida," you say sweetly, catching him studying in the common room. He glances up at you.

"I'm part of a UA initiative to improve student-teacher communication in the classroom," you begin, "and since you're our class president, I was hoping you could give this to Mr. Aizawa."

You hold your breath as he takes the sheet from you, scanning its contents.

"A noble cause," he nods, "I'll ensure he gets this right away."

After Iida leaves the room, you glance at Shoto, and that's all it takes. You burst out in laughter, and you catch the faintest hint of a smirk on his face.

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

Monday morning, Mr. Aizawa walks into the classroom, eyes bloodshot and holding a mug of coffee. You glance at Shoto. You had a bet going on who would crack first, and you were determined for it not to be you.

You see Mr. Aizawa pull out your piece of paper. He places it on the podium with a sigh.

"Iida gave me this," he explains, holding up the piece of paper, "Apparently there's a UA initiative to improve student-teacher communication in the classroom."

You're practically on the edge of your seat, and he hasn't even started reading yet.

"Hyperpigmentation," he deadpans.

Kaminari snorts, earning a glare from Mr. Aizawa. The rest of the class glances at each other, confused.

"Negative aura," he continues.

You look around the classroom. Mina is struggling to hold back giggles, Bakugo looks like he could explode at any minute, and Izuku is shuffling awkwardly in his seat. You catch a glimpse of Shoto, who is as stone-faced as ever.

The more phrases Mr. Aizawa reads, the harder it becomes to stay composed.

"Mama a girl behind you," he reads, devoid of all emotion.

You stifle a giggle, quickly covering it with a cough, causing Mr. Aizawa to glance up at you.

"Sorry," you manage to squeak, "allergies."

But nothing could have prepared you for what was next.

"Level 10 gy-att," Mr. Aizawa mispronounces miserably.

That's it. You completely lose it, and the rest of the class quickly follows suit. Even Shoto is trying to suppress a smile.

"Okay, what is this nonsense?" Mr. Aizawa asks, clearly unimpressed.

Poor Izuku tries to explain that it's a TikTok trend, while you are still wheezing with laughter.

"Iida," Mr. Aizawa sighs, "I know this wasn't your doing."

Then, he turns to you.

"You're involved," he states plainly.

"Me?" you feign innocence, "Mr. Aizawa, I would never--"

"Save it," he cuts you off, and you know better than to argue further. After all, this wasn't your first time causing chaos in his classroom.

"You can clean the common area each night for a week," he announces.

You groan, and with that, he zips himself back into his sleeping bag and goes to sleep.

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

Later that night, Shoto finds you wiping down the counters with a sponge.

"You lost," he says matter-of-factly, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

"It was so worth it," you grin.