#denied diploma

[mudwerks]

TIL about Alexandre Vattemare, he was a French ventriloquist. He trained as a surgeon, but was refused a diploma after making cadavers seem to speak during surgical exercises

[lil-gingerbread-queen]

The far right French political party formed by a SS, diriged by a very racist family friend with Nazis and that denied the Holocaust, supports Israel. Nazis are supporting Israel and have the guts to call people pro-Palestine "antisemitic". They just want to start with Arabs this time, before going for the (other) Jews, while stating that they are not racists, they're protecting Israel!

Israel is not on Jewish people's side.

[thewwshow]

Women Charged With Harming Baby's, Diploma Denied, Balloon Release, Housing (Live)

[acid-ixx]

brutus: out for blood (villain au concept)

ft. neglectful yandere! bruce wayne x gn villain! reader

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: did anybody ask for this? no! did i decide to write this anyways? abso -fucking-lutely. is this a rantfic? mayybee. anyways, this is not my best piece nor will anything i write be my best piece but i just love destroying my happiness with angst and altho writing a very anxiety ridden mc is fun, i also love to dabble in sadomasochistic traits for a main character. like i said, i am not proud of this but i figured i should post something. erm... leave comments bec i love reading whatever stuff u guys have in store hehe.

you've tasted blood on your tongue far longer than you've felt the loving touch of a family.

it's metallic. it's salty. it twists every vein in your gut.

it tastes of broken metal pipes in playgrounds, destructive tantrums and broken dreams, of skipped classes and detention rooms, of ripped test papers and missed diplomas. it reminds you of your bitter past every single time; one you swore you've buried six feet deep into the ground. a burning memory with nothing more than heartaches and heartbreaks.

you taste blood whenever they reject your advances for even a single moment of bonding time. you feel it pumping slowly, steadily, painfully whenever you stumble upon a room, only to see them, smiles and all, huddled together in a group with junk food in their hands and a movie playing in that stupid flat screen tv. you know it's the only thing accompanying you whenever he misses another event in your school. it becomes the only friend you have whenever you're alone, inside your too-small room, with shatters glass scattered around and bruised knuckles.

blood, for most, is vile, utterly repulsive. it reeks in every corner of a room, its scent is overpowering, it stains, it's hard to clean. it imprints. and it will always remind you it's there, in the depths of your body, curdling and boiling and ready to burst out of the seems every time you rip at your skin with a razor sharp blade. blood has always been your only friend, like a scar that will never fade away.

yet you embrace crimson like it was the color of your soul, and accept how it's the only color you allow in your grim life. black has never provided you solace, but red allowed for a mantra of emotions to trail into your very being.

blood. it's more homely than you let it out to be.

and you're far more familiar with it than anything else. you cradle it like an unwanted child, you kiss its wounds, allow it to fester and grow into an abhorrent disease that crawls like a lump in your throat that you could never get rid of.

in moments of solace, of quaint prayers and hours of kneeling into the floor— it is the thing that slides on cold, hard tiles. it is the warmth, the numbness, the thing that seeps out of your bruised knees, your scratched neck and your thighs with fingernails buried deep into flesh.

you've come to love blood, cherish it even.

especially if it's your own.

especially if it came from the punch of none other than your father.

left, right, left, right.

his punches were cruel and his kicks can easily crush bones into powder. he demands answers with every strike he delivers, he exudes an energy far more adrenaline based than yours. batman is methodical in the way he moves, the way he acts, and you're not; you're impulsive, you had no plans to counter the towering man— no counter for the brutal hits he lay upon you. you let him, you open every doorway world to beat your body black and blue, with red painting the canvas as a finishing touch.

he's stronger than you, and every time he bashes your head into the wall, the urge to spit into his face, to piss him off, to laugh at him and his Idiocracy; it all becomes stronger.

yet all you do was allow him multiple openings, denying yourself the pleasure of attempting to even take your abandoned gun at the corner and shoot at his cranium— you want him to suffer, even if it costs you your mobility by the near future, fuck it.

up, down, to the side, then an uppercut to your jaw and you're nearly depleted of anymore moves to counter. you want to seem like you've given up; but you want him pissed off, enough to punch you 'til blood seeps into the fibers of your mask. until your face starts bruising, until your nose breaks, until he finally rips your mask off and sees your face.

and he'll come to regret.

you shift to the side, and ignore the sting of your throat, the lull of your head and the soreness of your entire body.

because if you hadn't dodged, then your head would've left an imprint on the walls. you would've preferred that now, rather than the disgusting feeling of sentimentality that creeps into your heart at the implication that his blows were slowly, but surely, weakening.

he's holding back, you hold back a sneer.

as if he actually cares about you.

maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. you know he cares far more deeply for his enemies than he does you, and you hate how glad you are at the pride that finally, just finally are you being acknowledged. at the opposite end of his side, as enemies. but for once you can feel the care he offers others, most of which were nonexistent back when you were just some... nobody.

batman never kills; but he can hurt, he can injure, and he can destroy. and right now, you feel all the air leaving your body as the cloaked vigilante delivers the last punch to your ribcage.

you fall, on your hands and knees, a loud thump resounding through the empty abandoned building. all you hear are your crackling joints, and heavy breathing. heavy, like your eyelids, about to fall, about to shut until black encompasses your vision. if not for the remaining adrenaline coursing through your veins, you would've fainted— but you won't, you wouldn't, not until you see him, see his face.

the thumping in your heart beats louder, and your hands. god, they feel like jelly, it's burning, it's one step closer on collapsing under gravelly concrete and piercing skin into rocks. yet you're forbidden any time for grace, not when he lightly shoves you out of your position, and not when you fall to your sides, hands paralyzed, tears prickling against your cheeks at the pain that burns throughout your body.

"you don't deserve peace after shooting that family in front of that child, you know it."

his voice, domineering, absolutely fucking vibrating with a tremor of sheer anger. he directs his words at you, without empathy, without mercy. he wants you to learn to never mess with him in the streets of gotham. but you'll never... not until he notices you. fuck, you just want him to notice you. and now, he is, with utter vexation that causes a lump in your throat to form.

shit, you've never felt so happy.

it's when his tussled form — heavy, pitch-black boots slathered with crimson liquid — enters your sight that you cough, violently, out of breath, and you can feel it one second, then taste it in your tongue the next.

blood.

you grin, and slowly, ever-so eminently, did you spiral into a cackle. your throat gurgles crimson liquid, and yet it only builds into a cacophony of a broken record. you move your head, look through your nearly shredded domino mask, with so little strength to accompany you, to look at the man above you, eyes glinting with a glow never so alive until now.

you're genuinely so fucking happy.

batman, he who strikes fear into the hearts of gotham villains and civilians alike. he who protects the city at night. he whose name is said with wavering uncertainty— he's looking at you, only you.

'bruce wayne: my dad— is finally looking at me.'

and you! you're laughing, the sounds that emanate from your throat are so scratchy, so utterly decimated that it sounds like vultures feeding through a dead corpse; but you don't let your chuckles die down, because you're so, so happy.

he looks at you, with contempt, with disgust, you don't know; but you're still so overjoyed.

"y-yeah... it's me, i did it. are you proud of me...?" you ask as you look up, through the tears that flow out your eyes, through the grin that couldn't die down. he looks at you like you're insane, and you know he's confused, shifting uncomfortably as he gives someone a status update through the comms, his eyes never leaving your pathetic form—

you look at him like he means the world all throughout.

"call for red robin, i have one of the culprits," he orders through the intangible device, eyes squinting as he takes you in— you whose chuckles slowly calmed down, as your breathing finally becomes heavier, as blood, yours, seem to seep into clumsily made apparel. you, who bruce realized seem too oddly familiar, too small, too childish, whose moment of spiraling insanity is too damn innocent to ignore.

you're not like the typical rogue he encounters, no. and right before you finally allow sleep to overcome you, you muster the last of your energy, to stare back at him with shining eyes, expectant, and like a child's, you ask with the meekest voice.

"hey... dad, i have a surprise." scratchy, absolutely broken, yet spilling with joy, with... your last word right before you continue, bruce's heart thumps ever the slightest faster.

"take my mask off, please?"

crimson began to overtake your entire body, and bruce should've never complied with your... request, but as he kneels and finally gets a grasp of what you truly look like, he notices the frailness, the vulnerability, as if you were never built for... combat. with just how quickly you succumb to the depths of rest, with how oblivious you are to the fact that if it were anyone else, they would've killed you.

you're not properly trained, you fight out of impulse, and he knows it with just how swift you gave up midfight.

when he pulls the domino mask (which seems oddly inspired by the shape of... his vigilante partners, the robins...) off your face, did his heart finally hastened its pace, loud thumping crawling its way to his ears, his eyes registering your face: its form, its shape, your eyes, your nose—

all similar to his, all an amalgamation of your mother's, too.

no... wait, no.

it's not...

it's not his... child?

you?

your eyes, flickering one last time stared at him, softly, like that of a child who looks at their father with pride like nothing else. your hand, it shakes, it shivers, as your fingers find its way creeping to his hand, holding your mask. fingers so dainty, now pulverized bones lay atop his shivering hand, tenderly, as if trying to comfort the very same man who has nearly killed you.

batman— no, bruce looks at you. at what he's done, and only now did he realize his greatest mistake. a child, his child, one whose innocence retained through heinous acts, now a villain, whose actions were all a testimony to merely wanting their father's attention.

he failed you, his child. he failed to protect you, who he has never held up close until now— as your body is hastily taken into his arms. so small, so easily wrapped around his body, so unbefitting of committing criminal activity. now bloodied and laid into barren ground by their very own father.

bruce wayne never felt this much terror, for nearly killing his child.

this, this day marks his sin.

and you? dearest you feel like today is your greatest day.

crimson, nearly every part of you is stained with that putrid color.

yet blood has always been your best friend, no? and right now as you bleed into the arms of your father, you find yourself grateful that it is the last thing you see before a black cloak wraps around you, before black fills your entire line of sight.

short rant ahead: another author's note??? wow. yeah this was such a hard drabble to write. plsplspls leave a comment or some sort of input. anything will do. ive been so demotivated to write lately and i feel like anything i write is just, so bad 😭 like is my pacing good? are the emotions out of place? am i even doing this right ?? i don't know, and i feel like every time i post something i always put up expectations on myself that I should've done better so yeahh. is this attention seeking behavior? probably. but i don't get how people have come to like the stuff i write when i hate whatever i write hence why im in a constant cycle of hiatuses and short breaks. and really, it's just so hard to come into terms with things and i need input lest i accidentally get into a year or two of hiatus, lmaoo.

[hopelesslydevoted2paige]

hey babe!!! can you do a fic where reader is graduating college and thinks Emily can't be there, but readers family and Emily make a plan for Emily to be there? I really hope this makes sense I thought of it but I didn't know how to put it into words 🥹

GRADUATE || EMILY ENGSTLER

summary: your parents find a way for emily to be at your graduation

pairings: emily engstler x fem graduate!reader

word count: 386

warnings: none

authors note: hi anon thanks for this request!! idk if i really like this but whatever! also guys pls imagine the scene where emily carries reader like that one video of em and hvl 😁 idk if that made sense but you get me okay

You picked your nails as it got closer and closer to the initial of your last name.

It felt weird not having Emily at your graduation. It was like something was missing.

Two weeks prior, she told you that she wouldn’t be able to make it because of the conflict in schedules and flights while apologizing multiple times.

You reassured her, saying that there was always a live stream she could watch even though you couldn’t deny that you were kind of disappointed as well.

‘It’s not the same.’ She frowned through the screen of your facetime.

“Y/N L/N.” The Dean announced your name, along with the majors you took.

You grinned, walking on the stage and receiving your diploma.

You faced the camera, smiling for the picture while searching for your parents.

You spotted your parents as you were walking down the stairs and waved at them.

When they waved back, it wasn’t just the two of them. They were three?

Your mouth dropped once you saw the familiar tattoos on the mystery girl’s arm.

Emily grinned, blowing you a kiss.

Your mouth was still open, not being able to process things as you walked back to your seat.

After what seemed like forever, the ceremony was coming to an end. You moved your tassel to the other side and threw your cap up, immediately walking towards where your parents and Emily were sitting.

Once you spotted Emily’s tall figure, you ran towards her with a huge grin on your face and jumped into her arms.

She held you close as you wrapped your legs around her waist, stumbling back slightly.

“My beautiful graduate. I’m so proud of you.” She mumbled into your shoulder.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You pulled away and landed on the ground.

“It was all your parents’ idea. They helped me with the flights and everything.”

You turned around to face your parents, giving them both their own hug.

“We’re so proud of you!” They both kissed your head and grinned. “Come on! Let’s get a picture of the two of you.”

You stood beside Emily, who wrapped an arm around your waist while bringing you closer.

Emily kisses the side of your head. “I’m so proud of you baby.”

Your cheeks flushed. “Thank you.”

“You guys are so cute!” Your mother squealed.

You groaned. “Can we get dinner now? I’m starving.”

[crazilust]

My thoughts on these placements

based on my last lover. PSA: this might be biased. don’t take it TOO seriously, it’s mostly for me to purge this relationship. LETS GOOOOOOO !!

1. Gemini rising

Have you ever felt hella special to someone and then you see them interact with someone else and you’re like “oh. i’m… i’m just another one of their friends.” this is what it feels to be around a gemini rising sometimes. most of the ones I know, are either extremely popular, know alot of people or at the very least just hang out regularly with a bunch of people (might just be colleagues and not necessarily friends but they’re often surrounded). And they have this way of making you feel special, and funny and entertaining but most of the times, they’re the ones controlling the discussion and the flow of it.

when it came to my ex, he knew so many people and every person he was interacting with, he knew a little detail about them, and it made the person care so much about him. Even though he didn’t as much. Somewhat flimsy, it’s hard to know a Gemini rising’ true intentions with you.

2. Sagittarius sun

Sags don’t have the best reputation in my book, and he certainly didn’t help the stereotypes. The thing with Sags sun that I find hard to understand is the constant lie they have between who they truly are and who they want to be. It’s a constant battle of “don’t look too hard into my flaws bc soon enough I’ll be this grandiose super star and therefore you can forget about the awkward nerd you have in front of you.” Most of them are nerds, truly. But they hate it. As opposed to Aquarius sun’s desire to be different and their ability to stand on their two feet even tho they’re being outcast, a Sag sun’s deepest fear is to be seen as the weirdo they are. (that unfortunately they associated with being a loser)

If you’ve never been close with a Sag, you’ll be the first to deny this claim. “What?? The Sag I met was THE life of the party! No weirdo here.” or “The Sag I met was a boss ass btch, she had everything under control and very educated!!”

And that, my friends, is what we call a front. Sure, they can be the life of the party, usually very keen on getting their diplomas, but if you don’t know them, that’s the only part of them you’ll get to see cause it’s the part they deem acceptable.

I’m not even gonna comment on the commitment issues, cause yall… you know it already lmao.

3. Virgo moon

Nobody hates an underdeveloped virgo moon more than they hate themselves. So critical, judgemental and harsh. They notice absolutely everything that you do and instead of going to you and confront you about the issue, they’ll keep it in, and throw it back to your face the minute it’s convenient for them (when they effed up). Very hard to love because they simply can’t accept that you love and accept their own flaws. I remember my ex asking me litteraly all the time “How can you love me if I’m not as pretty as before” (it was in his head, he was just as cute) “How can you love me if I don’t have a job?” (He had lost his job for only 2 months at that point) No matter what I’d say, he couldn’t believe that I loved him wholeheartedly, no matter what.

Sometimes, when I look at a virgo moon, unevolved ofc, all I can see is pain. Virgo is an already hard sign to have imo (sorry!) but in the moon placement, it’s just sad. These natives are so harsh on themselves and accept no help whatsoever. And if you do try, they’ll do everything to push you away and trust me, one thing Virgos do is succeed.

4. Libra Mars

As a scorpio mars, libra mars is not my favorite placement. But as I checked my vedic chart and I do, in fact, have a libra mars, I hate that I understand why they act the way they do.

They care so much about everything being perfect, everyone getting along and most importantly being at peace with the ones they love. The cliches are true for a reason, they dislike conflict and yes, are passive agressive but it’s because they don’t want to lose the people they love with petty drama.

So they don’t say anything, and they accomodate even tho that one thing irritated them and then when you confront them about something, they bring you everything you’ve done wrong for the past six months. That’s the part I hate, ofc, but I also hate that I get it.

I get it. They’re the biggest people pleasers and when they don’t say anything about something that upsets them, they actually think they’re doing it for the greater good. They obviously analyse everything you’re doing wrong, but they don’t mind not saying it cause they’d rather be at peace with you. So how dare you don’t do the same for them?

That’s the mentality. Unfortunately for them, it brings bigger conflict because then you feel betrayed they never said anything to begin with. UGH.

SPEAK YOUR MIND, Libras of any placements actually <3

5. Sagittarius Mercury

If you consider yourself soft, delicate, sensitive, do not date a Sag mercury. These people are ruthless. As friends, I find them hilarious and fun to be around, but as lovers I would never do that to myself again. Just never <3. They are very blunt (which doesn’t mean they won’t lie! We’re talking about a Jupiter ruled sign here yall), but in a way that won’t make you feel good about yourself. They’ll often use humour to attack you and then use it as a shield the moment you call them out on it (i.e : It was just a jokeeeeee!)

Gives very good advice, I’ll give them that. I think sometimes I can have a little bit of tunnel vision and with Sag mercuries, they’re able to tap you on the shoulder and be like “Have you consider this tho?” in the most casual way and you’re like “oh.. no. yes. you’re right”

6. Aquarius Venus

If you love the friends to lovers trope, you’ll just love dating an Aquarius venus because that friendship-like relationship will be the foundation of your dynamic. Everything feels fun, the complicity is at an all time high.

But the commitment.

Now, I’ve read multiple times here that Aquarius venus is actually very committed to the person they love when they like you. Well, I guess I wasn’t his person cause I only felt the commitment phobia.

Anyways, I still loved the dynamic of the relationship, but I can’t lie, it didn’t feel serious at all.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~••~•~•~•~•~•

Well that’s all for me, today. Love yall!!

Remember, these are the big 6 of my ex so it is biased nothing to take too personal but if it applies and resonates, great💛

B.

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 25. messed up

chapter tags/warnings: naoya fucks toji's ex-wife again. aggressive sex. creampie-ing. misogynistic! naoya. hurt/comfort. naoya views women as nothing but a hole. broken marriage. heavy angst. infidelity/adultery. family drama. strong language. manipulation undertones. corruption. 

word count: 4.1k

notes: thank you always for all the support! on to the plot for our final arc! this beginning excerpt is a rewording from a line in “spy x family” (any fans out there?) that i believe captures the dynamics in our characters as well. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

❝ Every person has a self that one conceals, a side not shown to anyone else. Not to friends. Not to lovers. Not even to family. Behind lies and painted smiles, individuals shield their true natures and desires…and, in doing so, the world thus maintains its thin veneer of peace. ❞

Who in the world was Toji Zenin?

The Toji that you had always known was Toji Fushiguro, so what was your husband’s cognomen doing besides your sex therapist’s first name on the latter's university diploma?

Even Google seemed to deny that Toji Zenin existed.

Showing results instead for ‘Toji Fushiguro.’

No, that was not what you wanted! 

One step forward in understanding this enigmatic man might as well be three steps backward because, each time you thought you had learned something about him, you only come to the realization that nothing much had been discovered at all.

But as investigations via search engines, social media sites, and Wikipedia pages proved futile, sources that could quell your curiosity dwindled.

So, you turned to your last resort.

“Who’s Toji Zenin?”

“What—”

Across from you, the raspberry macaron in Mai’s hand stopped by her lips as the girl snapped her focus from the pastry to your unanticipated question, with Maki visibly turning stiff in the adjacent chair. The three of you sat surrounding a small table in the twin’s private lounge, located in the northern wing within the Zenin residence. 

Visiting the central family property was not uncommon ever since your engagement and wedding earlier this year, but the architecture would never fail to impress you. The mansion itself resembled the Imperial Palace more than anything—an edificial centerpiece defined by the elegance and simplicity inherent in traditional Japanese design, with latticework embellishing the wooden exterior and, inside, carefully painted doors opening into tatami rooms.

Given that Mai and Maki were back in Tokyo for their summer breaks from universities abroad, the sisters established themselves as your close friends and had brought you into their tea room, adorned with European furnishings that would come off as atypical compared to the Japanese heirlooms elsewhere in the residence. On the table sat an imported tea set from England, at the center a French-inspired pastry tower prepared with caramel-topped croquembouches, chocolate-covered profiteroles, and the like. 

In great admiration, the sisters had been barraging you with inquiries about your life back in your bachelorette days, asking about your volunteering trip to the Philippines or the charity auctions in Dubai.

Now, with the shift in discussion, the sisters exchanged an uneasy look.

An entire conversation appeared to be held in the way they traded glances. The usual sparkle in their eyes faded, which must mean the girls were remarkably uncomfortable, but Mai forced a polite smile as she placed down her macaron. 

“Y/N,” she began carefully, “May we ask how you know Toji?”

Even though she tried to spin the question as casual curiosity, her apprehension could not be more obvious. 

“I don’t know him, really,” you lied. While dishonesty went against your morals, watching the twins’ shoulders fall with relief was enough to assuage the guilt. “He’s just…” My friend, to put things in the mildest terms. “He’s just a name I have heard. That’s all.”

Maki dabbed at her mouth with a lace handkerchief, not making a big deal as she added, “Toji’s a cousin.”

So, the Zenin last name on his diploma was not a coincidence at all. 

Such a groundbreaking discovery should have thrown you into a whole whirlwind but, to be frank, the realization did not come off as too surprising at all. If anything, Toji as a member of the Zenin family was the perfect explanation to why Toji seemed so astute, why he would talk like he knew more about Naoya than you, and—as Geto had once said—why Toji was ‘not where he could possibly be.’ 

While Toji’s reason for opting for the Fushiguro name remained a mystery, what you did know now was that he was indeed affiliated with the twins before you by blood, which—by extension—must mean that Toji would also be a cousin to…

…your husband. 

Wait.

An unsettling chill ran down your spine.

“Cousins, as in,” part of you didn’t want to know the answer, “distant cousins? Or…?”

“No,” the older twin interjected matter-of-factly, not knowing the full background behind your seemingly innocuous question. “First cousins.” 

Ah, so the closest type of cousins possible, which was exactly what you had hoped not to hear. With this additional information, you tried to hide the clamminess in your palms. What would be the best word to describe this void now? Did you feel disappointed? Misled? Betrayed? Toji certainly had known that you were wed to his younger cousin, yet he willingly chose to hide his background as he kissed you, touched you, and fucked you.

A reversal from your sentiments before, you currently felt both disgusted and hurt.

Why did Toji keep this information from you? What sick person derived satisfaction from having sex with his first cousin’s wife? You were so damn stupid for placing all your trust in him. Looking at the situation now, he was just another iteration of the same manipulative and disrespectful man you had been trying so hard to avoid. 

“Are you close with Toji?” 

Mai shook her head. “No. We don’t talk to him anymore.” Her comment struck as odd. Anymore? Had they once been, then? Before you could ask, her gaze darted around in caution before she leaned forward and said lowly, “For your information, Naoya got into a huge dispute with him earlier this year.”

That’s quite recent. 

You understood that Mai and Maki had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped as they did not want to slander the family heir in front of his wife. Blissful ignorance was what the twins must be thinking, hoping to preserve the peace between you and your husband. However, what you had yet to reveal was the broken marriage that had been masked for everyone’s sake, disguised by a pretense that all was well.

Which was why, on that note, the timing could not have been more perfect as a tall young man with ombre hair and hazel eyes flung open the door in one unforgiving slam, rattling the fine china and startling the seated individuals inside.

“There you are, you whore!” 

Your eyes widened with shock upon seeing Naoya Zenin in the entryway, your husband’s scowl icy and malicious. He came stomping toward you as his eyes held a dangerous hostility that was impossible to ignore, and you could oddly sense an impending doom when he stormed with zero regard for anything in his path, kicking aside a potted plant and toppling over a ceramic vase.

Standing up, you tried to hide the confusion that befuddled your already mish-mashed brain. 

Today was Tuesday.

Was he not supposed to be at work?

“Naoya,” you began calmly, cognizant of the onlooking sisters behind you, “this is not the right place to—”

“You’re such a fucking desperate bitch, aren’t you?” His words were sharp and bitter, his glare filled with hatred like a fire doused with gasoline. Before you could request clarification, he stopped steps away and swung his right hand up, pressing a black business card to your stunned face, the paper crinkled from his intense grip and rendering you petrified in your stance. 

No, this couldn’t be…

From your peripheral view, you watched Mai and Maki place their hands over their open mouths as they read Toji Fushiguro’s calligraphed name on the business card that also had in obvious words: 'sex therapist.' Shame racked your stomach. Merely minutes ago, you convinced the twins that Toji was to you nothing more than a name, and now, karma bit you back like a bitch. 

With your voice evaporated, you croaked.

“Where did you find that?” You had been sure that you placed the badge away.

Naoya used his anger to crumple the card and tossed the now useless paper ball to the side. “In your purse,” he gritted, “How long were you planning to hide this from me?”

The ensuing guilt suffocated you. “I—” I don’t know.

Sensing the weakness in your will, Naoya burst into a maniacal laughter that cracked through the air, creating a disconcerting symphony. He bent forward, shoulders convulsing with every diabolic and mirthful guffaw. 

“You’re so god fucking pathetic, woman. Do you have any idea who Toji Fushiguro is? That bastard is Toji Zenin, you ignorant slut—he is my cousin. Well, I guess I never told you about him, though, because he doesn’t fucking matter anymore anyway. I don’t know how you ended up crossing paths with him, but this is hilarious!” The man kept cackling and roaring like he had gone insane. “Were you two brewing shit about me? Actually, let me guess since you’d gotten hold of this business card: did you have sex with him? Did you have sex with Toji? Going around fucking your husband and then your husband’s cousin is nothing to be proud of. Tell me, did you meet the other sex therapists as well? Did you get stretched out by them, too? Whose dick did you like best? Whose? Whose? Is that what you like, being passed around and used like some sick trophy? What a fucking animal! How dare you disrespect our marriage. How dare you disrespect your own hus—”

Your hand lashed out before you could suppress the impulse and delivered one resounding slap across Naoya’s face. You watched him shut up and stumble backward, clutching his cheek. 

"Ow!"

For a moment, the world seemed frozen still: the sisters gaping in complete stupefaction, your husband staring at the ground wide-eyed, and you heaving from the incoming emotional onslaught.

”How dare you…How fucking dare you disrespect me!” The coalescence of anger, agony, and resentment—bottled up in your heart for months upon months—was now being released as you dissolved into tears. “What the hell is wrong with you?! How could you say such messed up things? You are sick in the head, Naoya, you know that? Out of respect for myself, how could I possibly respect you?!” The only sound echoing in the room became your uncontrollable cries, sobs that escaped past your lips in raw and muffled bursts. Torn apart by sorrow, you could hardly breathe from how constricted your throat had become, your knees wobbling and weak. “Y-You have no idea how lonely and miserable I have been since I walked down that aisle. For the past six months, you—as my husband—have done absolutely nothing but make me feel like a rat in my own home, a mistress in my own marriage!” 

“Fantastic! Exactly what I wanted to hear, I am glad I have made your life horrible!” Naoya snarled, not caring for how everyone else’s eyes widened at the scathing statement. Unbelievable. Truly, painfully unbelievable. Did your husband really just say that to your face? He could not give a shit that you wept pitifully, instead catching your shaky wrist in the tightest grasp possible as he added on, “My only regret is that I had not made your life even worse.” 

“What the fuck!” you heard Mai gasp as a gut reaction.

What the fucking fuck, indeed.

While you had been subject to Naoya’s verbal harassment during these many weeks, for him to tell you that he wished he had tortured you further was beyond heartless. The searing ache that burned your skin might as well be fatal because your respiration turned erratic like someone had trapped you inside a bubble.

Hyperventilating, you subsisted on shallow gasps.

“Don’t go around thinking that you’re any better, alright? You’re calling me pathetic for sleeping with your cousin, but have you considered that I had been placed in that position because, since the start, you’ve been cheating on your wife?” 

Yelling at his face allowed you to release more tears from your lachrymose eyes. Now, Mai and Maki must truly be appalled at all these revelations. What happened to the fairy-tale marriage you had told them about? Well, that never existed to begin with, and with these thoughts in mind, you found a sadistic satisfaction in watching your lawful spouse fume with deep-seated rage. 

“That’s right,” you mused with derision, “we’ve been two sides of the same coin all along.”

Naoya clenched his hands at his sides, disgusted to have been compared to you. “Do not put me on the same level as—”

“No. No, you don't get to talk! All you have done since we have been married is for you to talk and complain and bitch about everything, but now, this is my turn,” you screamed in return. “I…I hate you!” and you pointed right at him, “In fact, I despise you. You never tried to see what I had to tolerate to stay with an asshole like yourself because you had been too busy sticking your dick into another woman while you could hardly look at me! No wonder your cousins worried about me. No wonder Toji told me to file for a divorce. Because you, Naoya Zenin, are a total piece of shit!”

His momentary pause hinted at the tiniest self-actualization that flickered within him. Perhaps he finally realized how you had been feeling now that you freely spat out all the turmoil that had been chaining your soul. He took one additional step toward you, torn between whether he should keep up with his anger or succumb to remorse for hurting you.

But, knowing this man, he—of course—opted for the former. 

“I never,” he seethed lowly, “wanted this marriage.” 

Maybe you truly have become deranged or maybe you genuinely found his statement funny, for you began to emit tearful cackles in your laughter.

“Now, that is one big fucking lie.” Since your earliest encounter, Toji had suggested that Naoya solely regarded you as nothing more than ‘a sweet, innocent fuck,’ and the longer you had stayed with your husband, the more you began to acknowledge how these accusations were all true. “We all know that you’re going to be nothing without me. A CEO who could hardly keep his wife for half a year? What a loser. What makes you believe that I wanted to be married to you? Who do you even think would want to do business with you after this? You never had respect in the real world because all that respect rests upon me.”

While you never fully understood Naoya, your words must have snapped a particular chord in him because he suddenly lunged forward.

“Fucking cunt—” 

But before he could get too close, you darted away from him. “Don’t touch me!” you shrieked, voice shrill from the top of your lungs. “Do not ever touch me again. If you want to lay your dirty hands on someone, go touch your girlfriend instead!”

That’s right, he had another woman who he doted on far more than he could appreciate you. This wedding band, this engagement ring on your left hand meant absolutely nothing. Toji had been spot on—why the hell did you cling onto stupid shit like this, twisting the jewelry as if that would save your messed-up union? Without further empathy, you slid off the two rings and hurled them toward your husband’s chest before the circlets clinked upon hitting the ground.

At first, Naoya scoffed. He watched the ludicrous scene with a comical gaze, and when his brain processed what he just saw, he quickly fell onto his knees. All at once, he tossed his head back and let out a chortle—a full-bodied cachinnation that took the room completely aback—as his hysteria mounted.

“Good, good, good!” His screeches were like those of a maniac, his chuckles haunting, throaty, and lacking in sanity. “I’m glad that you’ve come to show the witch that you have been all along! Look at yourself! No wonder no one wanted you!”

Unable to be a bystander any longer, Mai stood up and hurled toward her cousin. “Shut the hell up, Naoya!” 

But the said man was quick, using one powerful movement to punch the older twin first. “You shut the hell up, scum. Unless you want to be pummeled to the point where people will feel sorry to look in your direction.”

“Watch what you say!” and when Naoya turned to the new voice, the evil glint gleaming from his brown eyes appeared ablaze.

“Oh? Someone’s bold, too. Shall I bully you first then, Maki?” the timbre in his disdainful laugh crescendoed into unhinged amusement. “Say one more word, little girl,” he taunted, his imp-like face riddled with mockery. “C’mon. I dare you. I will throw you into the courtyard and beat your ugly face up. That’ll bring back warm memories from the good old days, huh?”

The younger twin gritted her teeth, her sister reaching for her arm as a signal to back down and stay levelheaded.

Meanwhile, once Naoya rose from the floor, he nonchalantly kicked at the rings because those emblems of your union had always been meaningless garbage anyway.

“If wanted to leave this badly, then fucking leave,” he deadpanned, his tone the calmest he had been this whole time. “I don’t give a fuck anymore.” 

Those were your husband’s last words as he walked away, leaving you sobbing and shuddering with a lost soul and sore heart. While weeping and gasping, you had to endure watching his figure fade from view, all while wanting to stop the uncomfortable distress that heightened with his departure. You were huffing, panting, trying to stop your trembling.

The second Naoya slammed the door behind him, Maki ran up to your side and embraced your shaking form, all while you bawled and clutched at yourself. Her expression remained strong, but her palms were damp as they pressed onto your back, her arms quavering slightly as she soothed your cries.

“Sh, don’t cry. My sister and I are here, okay? Mai and I will protect you. Everything will be alright.”

Despite her reassurances, she sounded nearly as broken as you appeared, especially when your hand violently trembled because nothing could save you from the agony that drowned your tattered soul. You felt the disgusting urge to throw up—you were completely broken inside. In a futile attempt, you sought to regulate your breaths with one deep inhale.

Yet, at some point, Maki peeled back and she mouthed something.

Was she talking to you? 

Why…why could you not hear her?

She sounded so muffled, as though you were underwater.

Why did everything sound so far away?

With your throat constricted, you could not breathe. Gagging. Gasping. Big, huge gulps of air, but the oxygen failed to enter your lungs. You couldn’t breathe. You could not fucking breathe. 

You gripped the fabric by your chest and your other hand sought for something else to hold, but you ended up on the ground anyway. Choking. Coughing. Was something foaming at your mouth? Something warm and wet spilled from your orifices. Were you vomiting? Why were you vomiting?

Holding your body upright, Maki was the only reason that you had not remained on the floor like a fool, but even she stared at you with concern and…horror? Why did she look so scared? Was she screaming? She looked like she was screaming, but her face appeared all contorted like you were looking at her through a fish-eye lens. 

After a while, you could not even see her or her sister anymore because your vision turned spotty and then black. 

See! 

Open your eyes, and see! 

Why could you not see?

When your hearing returned to some degree, the sounds that filled your ears were frantic shouts and endless clamor.

“Call Toji! He’ll know what to do. Hurry, where is your phone?” It was Mai. Scrambling. Bags were being opened. Items being tossed. “Call Toji, now!”

A phone started to ring.

Buzzes and buzzes and more buzzes as the waiting intensified.

Then voicemail. 

Hello, this is Toji Fushiguro.  

“He is not picking up!” 

Unfortunately, I am unable to pick up the phone right now. 

“Get…”

But please leave your name and number—

“Get Megumi.” 

—and I will return your call as soon as possible.

“What about Tusmiki?”

“Tsumiki is still in London at university, idiot! Call…Call Megumi!”

“Okay. I know, I know! I’m calling him already!” someone screamed back. Was this Mai? Was this Maki? You could no longer tell, but the same person shouted, “Wait, wait. He is calling back. Toji is calling me back.”

“Then pick up the phone!”

“Toji…” one of the twins started, the cracks in her tone making her sound like she was weeping too, and her words composed your last bits of memory before the world dissolved completely. “Please…help us.”

Even labeling Naoya Zenin as ballistic would be far too much of an understatement.

The rage, wrath, and sheer indignation that swelled in his every capillary surpassed the twenty-five years' worth of virulent rancor that he had for his fucked-up family.

Since when did you get so goddamn arrogant? Naoya wanted to hurt you, ruin you, and do everything in his power to sabotage you. 

Not just you, though. Because that would be too easy.

But also his father, his cousins, his ex-coworkers, and—most importantly—Toji. 

Such ill feelings were what led the Zenin CEO to practically leap into the Mercedes-Benz that awaited him at the entrance to his family home, and he immediately ordered his chauffeur to press on the pedal toward a very certain condominium several kilometers away.

Fifteen minutes later, a very surprised Mari opened her door and an enraged Naoya greeted her, shoving her against the wall and colliding his lips into hers for a fierce kiss. His actions lacked passion, only charged with aggression as he stripped her and threw her onto the living room sofa. He could hardly care that he treated the woman as though she was nothing more than a prostitute, while the latter mistook her boyfriend’s rage for desperation, and she begged for him to pull at her hair and force his tongue down her mouth. 

At some point, Naoya drove his mistress’s face into the couch cushion and dragged her hips to have her ass raised high. He was too clouded by fury and too blinded by anger to think twice before he forcefully penetrated the woman. He fucked her raw and held her close, jostling her body as though she was a ragdoll, eliciting her loudest mewls that cried for his name. 

“J-Just like that!” she whimpered, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he pummeled into her dripping hole, paying no mercy for destroying her with his ruthless pace. Her knees gave out from under her, and she crumbled from the sofa and into the carpet, only for him to tumble too to follow the socket he needed to keep his dick soaked. 

“I need to break you,” he hissed.

Fuck, he was going to come soon. 

His nails left crescent marks on her flesh, his hands burning her scalp as he tugged her strands and met her buttocks with hard thrusts, and he knew he was going to come. 

Feeling the first of his seed trick into his mistress’s life-giving cavern, he toyed with the idea of giving Tsumiki and Megumi a baby sibling. That would be fun. He could then imagine the subsequent mortified reactions from his deplorable cousin and from his wretched wife (whom he would hardly call himself married to anymore, anyway). The fantasies, everything that he would do to spite those who had wronged him, had Naoya cackling as his viscous cum spurted from his tip and deep into his mistress’s womb.

He pulled out once he made sure that every single drop had been milked from him, his ejaculate dribbling from her pussy like someone had taken a bite from a cream-filled donut.

Rolling into the carpet and onto her back, a panting Mari took two fingers and pressed his precious seed back into her cunt. “That was so hot.” A lazy smile pulled across her face. “Thank you for the unexpected visit.”

Naoya completely dismissed her comments as he tucked himself back into his pants, not in the right mood to respond. 

“Cool. Clean this mess up,” he demanded instead, “I’m leaving for work.” 

He ignored the woman’s ensuing pleas to stay at least five minutes longer. Unlike her, he had better things to do, and he rushed out as he fetched his phone from his back pocket and surveyed for any messages he might have missed while he had been away. 

But when he turned on his screen, his most recent notification had his blood turn cold.

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: The absolute fury in the argument, the complete panic between the twins, and the maniacal temperament in our husband…so much packed in this chapter! If you can’t tell already, my favorite POV to write from is Naoya’s, ha. Also, I took some creative liberty here to convey the intense emotions, so let me know what you think! Hugs to all.

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

[babacontainsmultitudes]

🤔 Admittedly I was a little disappointed by the reveal (but certainly not surprised the foreshadowing was heavy in this episode lol), but not actually against how Beth (and Will) seem to be playing with it thus far- which is to say that I do think it has a lot of potential, and I suspect there's more to what we're seeing).

;) Big ol' ramble below

Mostly the theory has turned me off until now (at least insofar as I've witnessed it transpire in the fandom at large) because it struck me as so painfully ironic to see Trudy, a 1950s housewife, struggle to exist under the system that she's in, fail to fit the mold assigned to her, and be denied her personhood very literally for it (this being ironic insofar as how it mimics how she would have been treated back then). This and because frankly I just think she's a lot less interesting if she's fully a robot LOL, but I'll hopefully get to that in a bit.

Not that the hints at her mechanical nature and the relevance of Tucker's background were lost on me; I can appreciate why those would contribute to a plausible, fun and I think still mostly harmless theory (now fact). However, minus one or two specific posts I've seen on the matter (namely a recent one suggesting that if Trudy is a robot Beth is probably taking inspiration from The Stepford Wives, :( sorry person who made that post I couldn't find it I wanted to credit yoouuu), I've seen the theory just about exclusively presented in a manner that, rather than explore the metaphorical and political significance of Trudy being partially or fully mechanical, at best disregards the parts of her narrative that are at their core about sexism (among other related things), and at worst negates them entirely (i.e. Trudy only thinking and acting how she does because she's a robot malfunctioning and not because the world itself is causing harm and she rightfully wants something more than the role she was forced into, Trudy not even having any real thoughts and feelings of her own, etc.). I just think it kind of sucks to shove all those important things about her aside and say "actually, there's no person suffering here, she's just a robot" and perhaps worse yet to imply that she does have thoughts and feelings but because they result in Weird™ behavior it must be a problem with her code and not at all relate to what women were subjugated to during this point in American history.

CONVERSELY I don't think Trudy being a robot (or at least partially one) at least from what Beth and Will have presented us thus far, inherently suffers from any of these issues? First and foremost because Trudy definitely appears to possess sentience, thoughts, and emotions of her own, matters which immediately complicate her degree of personhood and don't inherently box her behavior in as a bug in her programming rather than an issue with the world she's been put in, quite the opposite in fact! I think they have a very solid groundwork laid out here to make a strong statement with Trudy's narrative (and perhaps ask the question of what is really malfunctioning here), all the more so since [I pull out a Rebecca Swallows-style conspiracy board] I don't think she's entirely robotic in nature? Actually you should just read Mack's tags in this post cause he has great thoughts on the matter (of which those are just some of them), but if I can direct your attention to one thing in particular, it would be Beth's fact (I *believe* from episode 2) about Trudy never graduating high school because of her essay where she suggested that "perhaps women could one day domesticate themselves", a statement that could of course be interpreted a number of ways but ultimately threatened the patriarchal status quo enough (in suggesting women's independence) to cost Trudy her diploma. Taken on its own this fact appears to contradict the theory that Trudy has always been robotic in nature, because it doesn't really make sense that Trudy would have been set up to go through high school (or school at all really) when Tucker's intention was/is for her to be the perfect housewife. You may then suggest that Trudy's memories of this are fabricated and not actually her lived experiences, in which case firstly perhaps you should reread my earlier point on the robot theory being used to actively negate and otherwise disregard the portions of Trudy's narrative that pertain to sexism and feminism, and secondly it really doesn't make any sense to me that Tucker would implant those kind of memories into Trudy's brain? To be completely honest if she's been a robot from the very beginning (rather than someone who became a cyborg, which is what I'm trying to suggest here), then I don't see why Tucker would program her with actual sentience in the first place (suspending my disbelief here with regards to the possibility of programming sentience to begin with). It seems much more likely to me then that Trudy was not always a robot, and instead altered by Tucker to force her into a role of subordination and remedy her """imperfections""". This option is significantly more interesting to me one, because it implies that Trudy has actually lived a life up until the present, full of its own complexities and strife (and dreams, and real actual memories worth exploring, etc.), and hence is not by any means "just a robot", and second because it amplifies the hypothetical statement being made on the lives of the real living women of the era and how they were treated and seen as being "in need of fixing" for not conforming to gender roles or otherwise acting "out of line" with what was expected of them.

OKAY THIS GOT OUT OF HAND SO I'M CUTTING MYSELF OFF HERE but I wanted to my share my current thoughts what with this ending and where I'm at so hopefully that was at least interesting to whoever has chosen to read through this one okay thank you byyyyyyyyye~

[mirkoluvs]

★ JJK SMAU - DATING SATORU GOJO

notes: these are actually sm fun to make omg 😭 request box has been opened again !!

→ geto ver. !!

♥︎ liked by thestrongest, yuj1tadori, shokoko, kenton, and others…

y/nstivies: meet our son !

tagged: thestrongest

thestrongest: im such a proud father 😭😭😭🥺🤍

shokoko: this is disgusting i feel sick

↳ thestrongest: good thing you’re a nurse you hater.

↳ shokoko: i lost my diploma

↳ thestrongest: ok.

yuj1tadori: IM AN UNCLE 🎉🎉🎉🎉

liked by y/nstivites and thestrongest

↳ itgirlsaki: would that make you megumis uncle

↳ megumifushiguro: do not.

↳ yuj1tadori: i could be if he wants

↳ megumifushiguro: i promise you i don’t want that

kenton: don’t you already have a kid?

↳ thestrongest: no???

↳ kenton: fushiguro???

↳ thestrongest: i pushed this one out of my womb tho

↳ kenton: deleting this whole thread.

megumifushiguro: are you replacing me with a stuffed animal rn

↳ y/nstivies: megumi this is your new sibling!

↳ megumifushiguro: stop.

itgirlsaki: ugly ass kid

↳ thestrongest: DONT SPEAK ON MY CHILD LIKE THAT AGAIN?

↳ itgirlsaki: the way you never defend megumi this hard when i call him ugly

↳ thestrongest: i defend him mentally

♥︎ liked by thestrongest, utahim3, shokoko, kenton, and others…

y/nstivies: MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN

tagged: thestrongest

thestrongest: MY GIRL MY GIRL MY GIRL MY GIRL

utahim3: how much do you wanna bet hes just going to go pick up mcdonalds

↳ shokoko: LMFAOOAO

↳ y/nstivies: howd you know 😕

↳ utahim3: because it’s gojo.

↳ y/nstivies: yeah you have a point

↳ thestrongest: WDYM SHE HAS A POINT???

liked by y/nstivies, shokoko, and utahim3

shokoko: he does not need that waist

↳ y/nstivies: THATS WHAT I SAY EVERY SINGLE DAY

↳ shokoko: this is unjust…

yuj1tadori: i want to be gojo when i grow up

liked by thestrongest

↳ megumifushiguro: you need to dream bigger

↳ itgirlsaki: DONT ACHIEVE YOUR DREAMS 🔥🔥

↳ thestrongest: you guys are the meanest students ever.

♥︎ liked by yuj1tadori, megumifushiguro, shokoko, itgirlsaki, and others…

thestrongest: i love my gf more than any other man could love their gf (thanks nanami) 😜

tagged: y/nstivies

itgirlsaki: no way you made nanami third wheel on your date

↳ thestrongest: he actually took this by his own will because he adores me and y/n

↳ kenton: no i didnt.

↳ thestrongest: notice how he didn’t deny that he adores us

↳ kenton: i like y/n, not you.

↳ thestrongest: ignoring that we love you too nanami 🤍

shokoko: you don’t even drink??

↳ y/nstivies: he ordered water in shot glasses the whole time 🙁

↳ shokoko: LMFAOOAOOO

↳ thestrongest: THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO STAY BETWEEN US???

↳ y/nstivies: oops (you have to forgive me)

↳ thestrongest: …

© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!

[i4oba]

nct 127 as… / fanfiction aus!? 🏡…

[take the quiz here to see which one you get!]

✰ TAEYONG — street racer!au

you hated that taeyong’s hobby has never changed: it was rather infuriating how he couldn’t have stopped with those stupid street races which he couldn’t even miss once; you had known lee taeyong ever since from elementary school, and you knew all too well how his biggest dream was to take part in formula 1, but a poor boy, living on the countryside can only dream of achieving such heights, he would never be able to reach that. you don’t even know how the two of you got to befriend each other, it might have been that chemistry project where you two were assigned to work together in that old fashioned “the breakfast club” way on saturdays, as you couldn’t properly behave. you two slowly became good friends, and then… something you weren’t able to describe, it was way too confusing, and growing up you two realised that the period of time when you were together, as a couple, was more than just toxic, pretty much unhealthy. you left him for good finally, leaving behind this mess of a relationship when you got accepted to the university of your dreams, after taking one year off of studies because of whatever reason you foolishly came up with. since taeyong’s name was pretty well known by then in the world of street racing, you knew fully well that he wouldn’t just quit for school which he despised anyways. after breaking up, you left everything unsolved between the two of you, leaving behind the memories as well, trying to make it easier for the both of you, after all. you weren’t mean. but that’s the first word in taeyong’s mind when he spotted you standing there at the track: it seemed as if your face became skinnier, your eyes were teary, hair somewhat shorter than what he was used to. you had changed, he decided, when you took a step closer to his car, which he couldn’t bring himself to change up. but he hadn’t changed in your eyes: he was still that little boy filled with enthusiasm, absolutely crazy for race cars, the taste of speed and you. especially you. “please, be careful” you whispered gently, as he drove away way too fast, as soon as the flag fell down. and then he disappeared in the night, loud and swift.

✰ TAEIL — teacher!au

when you applied for a job at the elementary school of the new town you’d moved to, you made a resolution in mind, learning from previous mistakes: you won’t be so forgiving with your students, you won’t let the parents tell you how to do your job and most importantly, you will NOT fall in love with someone at work ever again (it seemed fatal by then, since you had to leave your previous job because of that). you didn’t have that much of experience as a teacher, your diploma was pretty fresh, gathering dust on the drawer, but you would never let that make you feel less: you were enthusiastic, very thoughtful, as you brought cupcakes for your class, for example! i mean, on the previous night, while decorating the cupcakes with that pinkish icing, you wouldn’t have thought this would be the first step of the chain reaction – you fucked up a few times before when it was time for the first impressions, and let’s be real, that’s exactly what happened on your first day too: you clumsily dropped the whole tray of sweet treats in the entrance of the teacher’s lounge, half of the cupcakes actually ending up on one of your colleagues, who you had tons of gossips going around in the hallways following shortly. and you couldn’t even deny the obvious attraction you felt towards moon taeil, who you fell in love with on the first sight. he was a biology teacher which… well, made place for a few inappropriate biological jokes (well, yeah, sex-ed) coming from the sixth graders, or! the silly theories coming from the youngest of students, telling their parents that you are for sure pregnant (which would’ve made you furious if it wasn’t for their undeniable cuteness).

✰ JOHNNY — high school reunion!au

the first high school reunion of yours was arranged by the student who used to be the council president of your class, who even sent out handmade invitations to everyone, hoping that most of the class would go, not holding grudges against each other anymore, no matter how the bond between everyone of you was pretty much terrible. you were not that big of a persona amongst your peers, you were rather quiet, much like an outcast during your high school years, sometimes addressed with the ominous word “weird”, so you weren’t even planning on going, since you knew very well: no one would bother to notice you being there, or your absence either. it was in the last possible moment when your mother persuaded you finally, after a very big fight between the two of you, offering a ride as well, because (whether it’s a shame or not) you failed your traffic exam once again. focusing on this mainly, you were afraid you would come off as a total loser, as you always fail no matter what. but, after not much of thinking, you decided that you can simply lie, since you live very far away from this dusty little town anyways, no one could actually fact check what’s actually true from what you tell. even on the ride to your old school, you were thinking of false fun facts you could say when someone asks something, telling yourself that it’s not that big of a deal, not that big of a lie – as soon as you stepped into the school itself, though, the damn nostalgia reminded you how much of a loser you had always been. plus, the sight of johnny seo made the situation even worse. your throat felt dry, palm sweaty as your courage left your body slowly, evaporating suddenly, as a fully random girl from your class showed something on his phone to you, laughing loudly in your ear, adding something witty too; you were in love with johnny for a long time, and everyone who got to find this out sooner or later, decided to turn it against you as soon as they got the chance, like those mean, little girls in elementary. you never knew how johnny felt about you, since he never actually told you, or brought it up either, because he was simply understanding. well, in the dimly lit bathroom of the school, pressed against the cold tiles, you knew exactly what he might have felt, kissing you messily, like someone who had been starving. you two were cowards to tell the truth to each other, afraid of making steps forward.

✰ YUTA — rockstar!au

it was pretty much a cliché to hear the “i’m with the band” sentence over and over again, but when you started using it… no one could ever stop you. you were proud that your boyfriend reached his goals and his biggest dream, and every time you saw the ever growing audience at their concerts, a certain, really warm feeling appeared in your chest, slowly filling the whole of your body, which, let’s be real, got to your head a few times. the band had been a thing ever since you were high schoolers, really active ever since the first practice in that musty basement, not too intense back then, but really consistent, persistence paying off in the end, resulting in concerts, albums, and whatnot, including interviews – both of your worlds turned upside down, and nakamoto yuta, as the front man of the group became a star, bringing you with himself everywhere they had to go, like a lucky charm. he felt at ease whenever he could spot you in the crowd, maybe in the first row, dancing and singing along to their songs, or at times when you gave an intense, adrenaline driven kiss on his lips before their performances, rewarding him with something more after… somehow it all worked out, since you two were insanely, madly in love with each other. but how long is this going to be the norm? you’re afraid of guessing.

✰ DOYOUNG — royalty!au

it felt a little chaotic as you spent your time in the spacious library of the palace, dressed in your newly made red velvet dress and a crimson coloured mask on your face, far from the ball room, and even further from the musicians, the aristocrats and young men, ready to ask for your hand in marriage. you were only able to stay for one dance, not having the patience to talk to complete strangers, to dance with heirs you didn’t even know of, and to let them get the best of you, waiting for the right time to use you for their own good. no, you’re not suitable for such things, even if it sounded a little selfish at that moment. it bothered you anyway, that you had to look for The One you could marry – you didn’t want to decide during one night only, whether they could enjoy your company for the rest of their lives, or not. to decide who’s the richer man, you could envision yourself with. you sneaked out in a second, when no one actually paid attention to you anymore. you only found the library purely out of accident, but it was such a pleasant accident since you felt like you were home there. it was quiet, the room filled with the scent of old books, and you were left alone with your own feelings and wandering thoughts. or so you thought at first, until someone stormed inside the library, following you shortly (you wanted to guess how much time you spent there, completely lost in the world of books but you lost your sense of time soon after entering). you didn’t even pay attention to the new guest, you simply continued with the intriguing, dusty book in your hands. the newcomer, however, decided to take a seat right next to you, with his own novel he got from one of the closer shelves. he didn’t say a word, but you could feel the smirk playing on his face, angrily closing your book, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. he didn’t have a mask on, which made you recoil a little, your breath hitching at the sight of such handsome young man, turning the pages of his poem anthology with a smile on his face. his gaze met yours when he looked up, winking at you mischievously. and that funny, unfamiliar feeling you felt at that moment, couldn’t have been described in any of those books laying around, although there was at least a thousand of them. only the boy next to you would be able to do so: kim doyoung, the prince of the kingdom, the heir of the throne.

✰ JAEHYUN — forbidden love!au

you hated hearing the word “forbidden”, although you had heard it several times growing up. you’re not a monarch, you bear no wealth and you basically have nothing else either, but the always so kind and warmhearted heir, jaehyun, couldn’t stop spending his precious time with you, since he enjoyed your company to the extent that you were ashamed of it. you had been selling flowers on the street ever since you were a little girl, mind filled with dreams and false hope. jaehyun always made you feel important, never getting in your way of achieving what you’d always been dreaming of. he was always following your steps, much like the shadow of you, not wanting to leave you any time soon. you could’ve thought it was because of the close friendship between the two of you, and you had always been a little oblivious of recognizing such hidden signs. you let him hug you, smile the brightest whenever he looks at you, and you let him waste your time which you were keen on sacrificing for him, not once hesitating whether what you’re doing is right or not. maybe it was a waste of time to spend your time at the flower field together, smelling the sweet scent of flowers, gazing at the sky endlessly. the stupid feelings were so blind and deaf, they couldn’t hear the obvious alarms of “forbidden” being shouted time to time – when he kissed you for the first time, you didn’t feel guilty. you deserved that. guilt only arrived when it was too late already.

✰ JUNGWOO — fake dating!au

you were actually serious about that contract and the paperwork, as an all too practical person you had always been, but jungwoo shook his head, declining your offer every time, saying how stupid it actually was… since you two are friends, right, and this is a one time only thing. it’s just one night, where you can surprise your family, to let them know that you’re not suffering from relationship problems or anything. you got bored of them always bringing it up, and jungwoo had enough of hearing you complaining about it, so he came up with this whole “fake dating” idea. you weren’t too optimistic, especially since your whole family knew about him, which could make you both seem a little suspicious. he calmed you down, though, telling you that you’re just paranoid, and you can say, after a good two or three months, that you two broke up through tears. little did jungwoo know, that you were afraid of a different thing… which involves the feeling of love you had been feeling towards him for years. you didn’t want to let him know about this silly crush you had on him, but you clearly knew that this night will change everything, as you two will have to act like a real couple for the whole night, and you weren’t sure whether you would be able to leave it all behind, once you get used to it. selfish or not, you were afraid that after a night where you two have to hold each other’s hand, kiss each other here and there (in the name of pure acting), you won’t be able to resist the confession. well, it’s such a rookie mistake to forget about the reason why jungwoo offered this whole thing, right?

✰ MARK — childhood friends to lovers!au

ever since you've basically known your name, mark has been the boy next door. there was the cheeky, red letters of "lee" painted on the mailbox, the windows were adorned with the same coloured curtains, and the same doormat has been sitting in front of their door for ages. you have loved mark ever since you two have met. there wasn't a day where you wouldn't think of him, and there hasn't been a day when you haven't loved him. it was like a vicious circle which you couldn't get out of, because those stupid feelings would destroy the oh so precious friendship of yours, and you cannot let that happen, right? i mean, that's what you've thought for far too long, since this friendship meant more to you, than the fragile feeling of love – you didn't want it to get to the point where you would rather spit on each other, than talk it out. maybe that's why you pushed him away from yourself? maybe you just did that because you weren't too sure of your own peace of mind? no matter what, you knew the decision itself was wrong, only to realize it way too late. damaging the friendship and crying yourself to sleep was all your fault, after all, being way too proud and scared, stupid even; when you came back to the town where you two grew up, the least thing you wanted was to meet mark lee, mainly because you wouldn't have been able to look him in the eyes after all these happened. but you had to, so soon you even got a little surprised. it's been a while since the last time you have been home, your bedroom seemed way too unfamiliar at that point, just like the vhs tape placed directly in the middle of your bed. one which you haven't seen yet. it didn't have a title, the white label completely empty as you picked it up. you were a little bit cautious when placing it in the system, waiting for it to play whatever is on it, not having such large imagination to expect anything. it was a home video montage, full of videos of you and mark: playing together, getting ready for the first day of school, going to the movies, the way you two got engaged in middle school as a joke, and the omnious day of prom... you got teary eyed, with one thing on your mind - you have to go and save whatever's left now. maybe you're not too late.

✰ HAECHAN — rivals to lovers!au

lee donghyuck's name rushed through the hallways of your music academy just as quietly as a whisper, and you never knew why was it all like that ever since you've stepped foot into the school. you couldn't even hide the way too obvious rolls of your eyes every time you heard it. lee donghyuck was one of the biggest prodigies at the academy, no one could even be considered as a rival for him, this is mainly why he was such a big living legend amongst the students - you couldn't even hide how annoyed this made you, especially because he made sure you knew this ever since you two were little. music played a huge part in both of your lives, and somehow, you two always seemed to be at each other's throat, the first place at being the best always changing between the two of you. you could never get rid of each other either; your dad, always being so positive, once said, on your way to the academy sometime between sophomore and junior year, that the only reason behind this is that you two are equally good at what you're doing. you were pretty much skeptic for the longest of time, and felt as if you were destined to be the forever second next to him. you've had enough of always bumping into walls, since hyuck was the one who could stand at the first place ever so proudly. in kindergarten, in middle school, and even in high school, every. god damn. time. and that infuriating smile was plastered all upon his face even when you two were asked to not perform alone on the annual charity gala of your academy - you two had to perform something phenomenal, putting the childish jarring aside, growing out of the silly phase of hating each other, which was all made up by you, and you only, pushing the poor boy away from you. the boy who had always been so obsessed with you, utterly and completely. he won this time again, isn't it right?

[chiqelatasblog]

In the Middle of the Night🌙

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Part Two is here.

Pairings : Bi-Han/ Sub-Zero x You, Kuai Liang/ Scorpion x You, Tomas Vrbada/ Smoke x You

Tropes : Slavery, Past Sexual Abuse, Canon-Typical Violance, Emotional Hurt Comfort, Strangers to Lovers, True Love, Foursome, F/M/M/M, Dark Magic, Eventual Smut

Summary : After a mission gone wrong, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas find themselves sealed inside a book as love slaves. Whoever discovers the book and utters the incantations within will not only become its owner but also the master of the Lin Kuei’s three deadliest assassins.

For you, grappling with the weight of a solitary life and enduring a particularly rough day, stumbling upon this mysterious book was an unforeseen twist. As you bring the book home, unaware of its contents or the events that led to its creation, the ensuing chain of events will shatter the tranquility of your world, forever altering the course of your life.

Title and work inspired by the “Elley Duhe-Middle Of The Night” song

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CHAPTER ONE : (READER)

You were enduring one of the worst days of your life.

Your alarm didn’t sound in the morning because you were too fatigued to remember to charge your phone the night before. With its poor battery life, it ran out quickly. Living forty-five minutes away from the city center, you should have caught the subway at least an hour ago to make it to work on time. Despite the pressing need for money, uncertainty loomed as you grappled with the inevitability of firing. The job, despite its dreadful conditions and an insufferable boss, stood as your best opportunity in months - too valuable to risk losing.

Although you had graduated from college with a commendable degree, the job market proved bleaker than anticipated. Your once-bright dreams faded as the harsh reality of post-graduation life set in. Most desirable positions demanded experience, yet securing experience required entry into these very positions. While a diploma opened a few doors, the conditions were often as harsh as modern-day servitude, albeit with insurance and a predictable late salary.

Your current role as a programmer at a gaming company offered no respite. Long hours in front of the screen left your eyes bloodshot, encircled by dark rings, and your neck perpetually aching. Despite the hardships, a promise to your distant family fueled your determination to stand on your own. Abandoning everything and returning home was not an option after coming this far. You had shed too many tears to surrender now, enduring the suffocating loneliness of solitary dinners in your cramped kitchen as you pursued your dreams.

Thus, with a reminder of your purpose, you hurriedly left your apartment. Despite the packed subway and the frenzied rush, you managed to trim your commute from fifteen minutes to a mere seven and a half. Yet, upon arrival, your efforts were futile. Summoned to your boss’s office, you were promptly instructed to collect your belongings and leave the company, denied even the opportunity to provide an explanation.

You were keenly aware of the disdain your boss and coworkers held for you; it was an open secret. They resembled vultures, poised to oust you at any moment. As the lone rookie, you were perceived as nothing more than a liability. Despite your efforts to avoid seeking their assistance by tackling most tasks independently, being in your first year of the profession meant there were occasions when you needed guidance or support. Yet, camaraderie was a foreign concept in this office. Compared to other workplaces, the only semblance of unity stemmed from shared breaks and lunches.

A part of you felt relief at the prospect of bidding farewell to a workplace where you found no joy. However, the dominant part, fueled by anxiety, fretted over how you would cover rent and expenses. Although you had a modest emergency fund tucked away, it would only sustain you for about a month. Urgency gnawed at you as you roamed the streets with a cardboard box containing your few office belongings, scouring for job advertisements. Picky was a luxury you couldn’t afford; you were prepared to take on any role, even as a barista or waitress, until you secured a position closer to your aspirations. Survival necessitated prioritizing money above all else.

As the day wore on, you lost track of time. With the setting sun casting a dim glow and street lamps flickering to life, tiny raindrops began to graze your cheeks and nose, soon escalating into a downpour. Despite the onslaught, you mustered the strength to suppress the curses threatening to spill forth. Rushing back to the subway, you braved the rain without an umbrella or proper clothes, mindful of the looming threat of illness. With no funds to spare for hospital bills or medication, resuming your job hunt from the shelter of your laptop seemed the safer option.

Arriving at the subway, drenched from head to toe, you collapsed onto the nearest available seat, your legs barely able to support you. With a heavy sigh, you closed your eyes, feeling the weight of the day’s exhaustion bearing down on your body. The simple act of sitting down was a luxury, a stark reminder of just how fatigued and stressed you had become over the course of the day. You rubbed your weary legs in an attempt to generate some warmth, soothing the cramps and chasing away the chill brought on by the rain.

As the subway doors slid open with a ding, a wave of commuters flooded in, filling the once-empty seats around you. Seizing the opportunity to rest your eyes until reaching home, you leaned back against the seat with the cardboard box resting on your lap. Tired, cold, and hungry, the numbing effect of the rain provided a brief respite from the stress, deserving of a well-earned nap.

When the ache in your neck became unbearable, you reluctantly opened your eyes, realizing that your stop was approaching. Glancing down, you noticed a book lying on the seat beside you, as your grip on the box was dangerously close to slipping from your grasp. Picking it up, you scanned the faces around you, expecting someone to claim the book or acknowledge its presence, but no one seemed to react. Confirmation dawned upon you, the book had been left behind, seemingly forgotten by its owner.

Although the book appeared hefty, its weathered cover hinted at years of use and handling. Despite its age, it felt surprisingly light in your hands, its once vibrant hues faded to muted tones. Adorned with a pale gold cover devoid of any text on the back, the book bore the scars of countless readings and journeys. Turning the book over to avoid catching your tired reflection on its worn and shiny surface, your lips parted in mild surprise. Three striking male figures graced the cover, their details rendered with such realism that they almost seemed tangible, despite the signs of wear and tear. Your finger traced over the hyper-realistic features with impulsive curiosity, only to retract abruptly as if scalded, suddenly aware of your surroundings.

As a sweet ache pulsed between your thighs, you found yourself unexpectedly aroused by a mere image, prompting you to shift uncomfortably in an attempt to quell the throbbing sensation. It had been quite a while since you last shared intimate moments with someone, but even that didn’t entirely account for the sudden surge of desire sparked by a simple picture. Stirring memories long buried within you, igniting a hunger you hadn't realized existed until now.

A blush warmed your cheeks as you examined the figures once more. The trio bore the semblance of warriors or assassins, albeit clad in scant attire. The man on the left possessed a sun-kissed tan, his muscular frame adorned with a large scorpion tattoo on his left arm. His black hair was artfully swept across his face, his golden mask veiling a stern gaze as he brandished a flaming kunai, its rope end poised for action.

Your attention shifted to the figure at the center, whose face remained partially obscured by a silvery black mask. Despite the concealment, a strange sense of familiarity emanated from his features, mirroring those of his companion. His complexion was pale, revealing blue-green veins beneath the surface, while his dark eyes emanated cold, dominating arrogance. Black hair, tied in a low bun with a few tufts escaping to frame his strong features. Massive biceps framed his imposing stature as he wielded a sword of ice, poised to strike with lethal precision.

In stark contrast, the figure on the right differed greatly from his counterparts. Towering slightly above them, he bore little resemblance to an Asian individual, exuding a distinctly European air. His skin was also light, and he wore a grey-colored mask covering half of his face. A thin, light grey smoke emanated from his body. His short gray hair and softer gray-blue eyes lent him a gentler appearance, juxtaposed by the lethal aura exuded by the carambite adorning his finger. Despite his softer features, his lethal prowess was undeniable.

As you scrutinized the cover, a perplexing question lingered: why would the illustrator depict warriors in such a manner if not for a romantic context? Their barely dressed and provocative poses hinted at a fantasy narrative, reinforced only by the presence of their weapons. Without them, the figures might have appeared more akin to love slaves than skilled warriors. “An intriguing choice,” you murmured to yourself, pondering the illustrator’s intentions behind such a depiction.

As you opened the book to look at the chipped pages, curiosity piqued about the contents within, you suddenly realized that your stop had arrived. Hastily tucking the book into your box, you sprang to your feet with a muttered exclamation.

“Oh, shoot!” With a swift maneuver, you barely managed to slip through the closing doors of the crowded subway. Amidst the post-work rush, the mingled scents of sweat and cigarettes engulfed you as you navigated through the throng. Minutes later, emerging from the subway, you drew a deep breath, filling your lungs with the scent of rain-soaked earth.

Your journey to home passed in a blur, your body moving on autopilot along familiar streets and corners. Before you knew it, you stood before your fifth-floor apartment, a small abode consisting of two rooms and an American kitchen. Its most prized feature was the balcony, a sanctuary where you relished summer evenings, savoring the view with a glass of wine by candlelight.

When you arrived home, it was already nine o’clock in the evening. Leaving the box in your hand at the entrance of the door, you went straight into the shower to wash away the fatigue and grime of the day, and to replenish the warmth your drenched body had lost. You lingered under the hot water until it thoroughly enveloped your body, and finally, when the steam filled the small bathroom and you felt like you might faint from the heat, you emerged, clad in your well-worn and hardened bathrobe, with a towel wrapped around your head.

Pouring the last remnants of the red wine you opened days ago into a glass, you placed it in the microwave to heat up the leftover Chinese food you ordered a day ago. As you waited for your meal to warm, your gaze wandered to the box in the corner, reigniting your curiosity about the mysterious book. Crossing the room in a few strides, you retrieved the book and placed it on the kitchen island, settling into your chair with wine and warmed food. “I’ll worry about unemployment later,” you declared, raising your glass in a toast. “Today was stressful enough, and I definitely deserve this wine.” With a sip of wine and a mouthful of noodles, you flipped open the book’s cover with your free hand, eager to have a look at what it held.

‘’What…?” You stared at the glossy golden pages, brows furrowed in confusion, surprised to find them empty. “What kind of book is this? I don’t understand the purpose.” you muttered in disbelief. The worn-out appearance of the book added to your confusion, making you question whether something had happened before it was finished.

As you reached the middle of the book, a shocking revelation left you speechless. Lines, equivalent to about a paragraph, materialized on the previously blank pages before your eyes, causing your entire body to freeze in shock. Tremors coursed through you, as if jolted by electricity, and you grasped desperately for reality, unsure if what you were witnessing was a dream. Gasping for breath, you struggled to comprehend the surreal sight before you.

“I haven’t even had that much wine—I just took a sip.” you mumbled, your voice strained with the effort to contain your rising panic. “I’ve seen enough movies to know where this is going. I’m not reading whatever’s written here,” you declared, the thin timbre of your voice betraying your attempt to stifle a scream.

You closed the cover of the book hard and attempted to get up from your chair, but found yourself unable to move. It was as if an unseen force held you in place. The cover of the book opened again, and as the pages flickered before your eyes, the one you had just turned to was laid out in front of you once more, sending shivers of fear down your spine.

“Read it,” a demanding male voice echoed in your mind, freezing you in terror. Despite your frantic desire to flee, you remained immobilized, unable to move a muscle.

“I-I was just curious about what it says. I didn’t mean any harm,” you pleaded weakly, few tears streaming down your cheeks due to the immense fear you felt at the moment. Another voice, speaking in a foreign tongue filled the air, his tone scolding but directed elsewhere, not at you.

“We won’t harm you, master,” another voice reassured, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the fear.

“Say the words aloud, and we will serve you,” urged yet another voice, prompting a realization of the three distinct voices corresponding to the figures depicted on the book’s cover.

“W-What the…! Are they…”

“Yes, that’s us you see on the cover. We’ve been trapped in this book for a long time. You have to say the words to get us out of here,” one of the voices explained.

“You’re talking as if I had a choice,” you replied in a timid, low voice.

“Read the words, woman,” another voice commanded. It was the coldest and harshest of them all. Despite lacking a physical form, his dominant aura was unmistakable in the way he emphasized his words. His voice resonated with a deep, chilling tone, unlike anything you had ever heard before. You attempted to steady yourself, swallowing hard and clenching your trembling hands into fists on your legs.

“How do I know you won’t hurt me? Each of you had a weapon on the cover; it’s clear you’re some kind of warriors.”

“We are bound to the master of the book,” another voice interjected, his tone notably more welcoming and kind than the others. “We cannot harm you.”

“God, I must be losing my mind. I’m talking to a book,” you muttered, glancing at the pages with audible trepidation. Fear and panic constricted your throat, rendering you speechless.

“This is no illusion—it is the truth,” the same younger voice asserted after a brief silence. “Read what is written, master, and we shall pledge our service to you.”

“I-I’m not anyone’s master. Don’t call me that; this situation is already too surreal for me,” you protested weakly.

“As you wish, master,” came the compliant response.

“You won’t hurt me, will you? I’m too young to die; I haven’t even begun to fulfill my dreams…” you pleaded, your words abruptly cut off by a snarl. If not for the invisible force holding you down, you might have leaped in fear.

“Read these damn sentences!” the voice commanded, his tone harsh.

“Bi-Han, don’t frighten her!” another voice intervened.

“Fine, fine, I’ll read it!” Tears continued to trickle down your cheeks as you began to recite the words aloud, hoping to end the ordeal. And as you prayed to the god or whatever deity might be watching over you, you couldn’t shake the dread that you might be leading yourself to your own demise. “Rise, my servants, from the depths of slumber and bind yourselves to me with your souls, revealing your names. Embrace your new purpose ensnared by passion.’’

As you finished speaking, a powerful gust of wind whipped through the room, causing the towel around your shoulders to unravel and fall. Soon after, you heard the voices of three men speaking in unison, their words echoing loudly.

‘’We rise, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas of the Lin Kuei, bound to your will, for in your presence, we find solace and purpose. We protect and we please, however you see right, however you seem fit. We’re your slaves, and you’re our master, surrendered to your every command, body and soul.’’

With a surge of energy, the wind intensified, knocking over the glass on the counter, spilling wine onto the robe and floor. The glass shattered at your feet, scattering shards across the kitchen. A brilliant light emanated from the book, forcing you to shut your eyes against its intensity.

Then, as suddenly as it began, everything fell silent and still. The wind vanished as if it had never been, and the light that had filled the room dimmed into darkness. Summoning the courage to open your eyes, you were met with the sight of three imposing, completely naked men standing a short distance away.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” You attempted to gather your thoughts, tearing your gaze away from the men to focus on the scattered glass on the kitchen floor. “There are three naked men in my living room. And—and they emerged from the book? I must be losing my mind. I really must be losing my mind.”

As the words tumbled from your lips, sounding like utter madness to your own ears, you tried to take deep breaths to calm yourself. But when you attempted to rise from your seat, your numbed feet betrayed you, causing you to stumble and fall to the ground. The impact sent a jolt of pain through your knees and feet as shards of glass embedded themselves into your flesh, stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Shh, it’s okay. Calm down, you’re only hurting yourself,” came a gentle voice.

Your gaze was drawn to a towering, bronzed figure looming over you, his powerful physique making you feel small and vulnerable. Sensing your escalating panic, he gently cupped your face in his large hands, the touch of his calloused fingers both rough and tender. With each contact, warmth spread through your body in soothing waves.

“Look at me. Take deep breaths and exhale, just like I do,” he instructed in a soothing tone.

“I can’t,” your voice broken with fear.

“Of course you can. Follow my lead, I’ll show you,” he reassured. As you turned your gaze to his face, you were met with a pair of slanted light brown eyes, framed by long black eyelashes. His gaze exuded warmth and understanding, matching the sensitivity of his touch. “Breathe with me. Now.”

As your brain somehow focused on his instructions, you found yourself synchronizing your breaths with the mighty man before you. With each inhale and exhale, you felt a wave of calm wash over you, dissipating the last shreds of your strength. He effortlessly supported you, preventing you from collapsing to the floor, his touch gentle yet firm. Despite the pain throbbing in your flesh and the warmth of blood trickling down your skin, you remained in a state of confusion and fear, unable to muster the will to move from his grasp.

“Tomas, find something to clean the wound,” commanded the one with the authoritative voice, resonating with incredible depth. The man who held you gently lowered himself onto one of the double seats in the living room, maintaining his firm grasp on you. A faint warmth spread across your face, but you remained ensnared in his hold, feeling as if your mouth were filled with dry cotton.

Your gaze shifted to the man cradling you, his expression clouded with concern as his amber eyes scrutinized you closely as if he feared you might suffer another attack. Despite his gray hair, you were taken aback when a youthful visage suddenly filled your vision. The man was tall and imposing, his large build casting a formidable shadow over you. Feeling intimidated between these two towering figures, a timid whimper escaped your lips as your body instinctively recoiled, yearning to escape despite its weakened state.

“Calm down, master. We won’t hurt you. Let me tend to your wounds; you’ve cut your knees and feet badly. I can ease your pain,” reassured the silver-haired man, his voice carrying a surprisingly gentle tone given his imposing stature. As you swallowed and tried to shift again, a cold sound from across the room froze you in place.

“If you move again, I’ll—” began the menacing voice.

“Bi-Han, enough! She’s already frightened, no need to add to it.” Intervened the man holding you, his voice commanding authority. Though Bi-Han’s threat remained unfinished, its effect lingered, rendering you motionless, afraid to even breathe. As the silver-haired man tended to your wounds while taking advantage of your stillness, the man holding you attempted to comfort you with gentle pats, drawing soothing circles on your back.

Gritting your teeth against the pain as the glass shards were removed, you fought the urge to appear weak and helpless in their eyes. Though you couldn’t see yourself from their perspective, a sense of self-consciousness gnawed at you. In an attempt to shift your focus from the pain, the man holding you soflty interjected, “I am Kuai Liang,” he introduced. “May we know your name?

Struggling to articulate your name through clenched teeth, you managed to utter it in one breath. A faint smile graced Kuai Liang’s face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, (y/n).”

“Speak for yourself,” growled Bi-Han from across the living room. “Just another fucking master we’re bound to serve.’’

‘‘I thought you wanted to get out of the book.’’

Kuai Liang’s sharp retort silenced Bi-Han, prompting Tomas, who was tending to your wounds, to interject. “And so am I, Tomas. Thank you for calling us into your service.” he said with a small smile that seemed forced, his dull greyish blue eyes lacking genuine emotion. As he carefully tended to your wounds and wrapped them in bandages, a sense of unease washed over you, causing you to squirm away from Kuai Liang’s grasp and retreat to the corner of the seat, eyeing the three men with a mix of confusion and discomfort.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” you croaked, avoiding their look as your gaze involuntarily dropped to their lower parts for a second before you could prevent it, your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “And please cover up your bottoms. You can use the cushions.”

Complying with your request, all three men concealed their private parts with cushions. Tomas took a seat in the opposite double seat, while Bi-Han settled into the single seat. Despite your small apartment being already cramped, the presence of the three burly men made the space feel even more claustrophobic.

“Where would you like us to start?”

“From the beginning,” you replied, addressing Kuai Liang. “Who are you? How did you end up in that book? And why are you here now… Please, tell me everything from the beginning so that I can understand.”

“We are members of a clan called Lin Kuei, known for training assassins, and we are brothers,” he began. “Bi-Han is the eldest, serving as the grandmaster of our clan in the past. I, on the other hand, am the middle one, and Tomas and I served as his second-in-commands.’’

The revelation that they were assassins drained the color from your face, confirming your suspicions from the book cover. A shiver ran down your spine as you realized the chilling reality of being in the presence of trained killers.

“Many years ago, we encountered a demon named Quan Chi on a mission. As you can imagine, the mission went awry, and he sealed us inside this book. Whoever owns the book and says the words becomes our master, and we are compelled to fulfill their wishes and desires.”

Even if you sensed that the information was being presented with some omissions, you refrained from voicing your suspicions. They were strangers to you, and you to them, so expecting complete transparency without trust seemed unreasonable. While you had the authority as their master to demand the truth, approaching the situation in this manner didn’t sit well with you—it didn’t feel right, nor did it feel humane.

For God’s sake, the idea of being anyone’s master was abhorrent. The twenty-first century had arrived, and the notion of a master-slave relationship had long since vanished. It felt nauseating and profoundly unsettling.

“I am not your master. I can’t—I can’t be. No.” You attempted to stand up in panic, desperate to escape the situation, but your injuries held you back. Kuai Liang gently grabbed your arm, urging you to calm down.

“Calm down (y/n), your wounds are very fresh. You’ll make them bleed again.” You clung to his wrist, pleading with your eyes for assistance.

“Is there no way to set you free? I can’t accept this. This is—this is against humanity!”

With your words, a deep silence enveloped the room. As you observed their stunned reactions, it became evident that this sentiment was new to them. Your heart ached at the thought of witnessing these powerful men stripped of their freedom. Despite your fear, the realization knotted your stomach. They appeared intimidating and deadly, yet the severity of their situation suggested that past experiences had shattered them and stripped away their dignity. You couldn’t fathom how long they had endured as slaves within the confines of the book, but the outcome seemed all too predictable, casting a somber shadow over the room.

“Set us free?” Tomas’s voice echoed with longing, his desire palpable.

“Such a thing is possible, isn’t it? If you tell me what I should do I—”

“Why would you do that? What do you want from us in return?” Bi-Han’s voice sliced through your words, sharp and menacing. You fought to maintain your composure, avoiding freezing in your spot as his icy demeanor chilled the room. As your agitated gaze shifted to his pale, muscular arms, you were astonished to see a thin layer of ice extending from his hands. Were they truly made of ice?

“As I said just now, I can’t be anyone’s master, it’s in defiance of human ethics. If there’s any way I can help you, I’d like to do it. I don’t want anything in return except for this situation to end as soon as possible, I’m sure you want the same.”

“Do you expect us to believe that you are just a fairy godmother?” Bi-Han’s mocking half smile sent waves of unease through you. “You are not convincing at all, woman. Favors are done with an expectation of something in return.’’

“Favors are done for nothing; you don’t expect anything in return. That’s why it’s called a favor.” Emboldened by a hint of defiance, you met Bi-Han’s stern gaze head-on. “I can understand why you don’t trust me after what you’ve been through—”

‘’Don’t you dare,” Bi-Han shot up from his seat, his movement swift as a shadow. Suddenly, he was close enough for his breath, cold as winter air, to brush against your face. “Don’t try to empathize with what we went through. Do you think you know us now just because you’ve learned a few things?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend,” you said quickly.

“Brother, please sit down. If you talk like that, we won’t get anywhere.” Kuai Liang intervened, putting one arm between you and Bi-Han. Bi-Han glared at you intensely, his eyes slanted like those of a predator, then he took a deep breath. Watching the mist of his cold breath in the air, everything still felt like an endless dream—or nightmare. When he finally returned to his seat, Kuai Liang’s gaze turned to you.

“Thank you for offering to help, but unfortunately, we don’t know how to undo this dark magic.”

You ventured a suggestion that you hoped wouldn’t sound foolish. “We could try burning the book. I’ve seen it work in some movies.”

“We’ve tried that,” Tomas chimed in, joining Kuai Liang. “Several times. Whatever we’ve done, the book has never been destroyed. It’s protected by some kind of magic, just as it protects its master from us.”

“You spoke as if you had tested the last part before.”

In response, silence enveloped the room. Despite your efforts to stave off panic, the realization that they were assassins and the precariousness of your situation made you feel threatened.

“We have tried to kill several masters before,” Kuai Liang admitted frankly. “But there’s some kind of seal that protects them—you can think of it as a shield. It renders any attack ineffective. That’s why we were telling the truth when we said we wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Of course, if things were different, it wouldn’t mean you wouldn’t try,” you said, averting your gaze and clasping your hands in your lap. Another solution came to mind, prompting you to straighten your shoulders and take a deep breath before continuing.

‘’ If I can’t set you free, then you’re free to do as you please, go where you want. You don’t have to be stuck here.” you offered.

“You won’t give us orders? Isn’t there something you want us to do?” Tomas asked, surprised.

“No, as long as you don’t start killing people, you’re free to do whatever you want.”

“We’re not mindless killers,” said Bi-Han harshly, sounding offended that you would even think of them in that way. Kuai Liang interjected, softening his brother’s tone.

“We serve a noble purpose. We were, until we were sealed in the book… Our clan has been dedicated to protecting Earthrealm from dangers for centuries,” he explained, his gaze softening slightly as he made eye contact with you. “Thank you for the opportunity you’ve given us, but we can’t be away from you for more than a few hours. We have to get back here, to you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “How so? Why? Do I have to say something else?”

“No, it’s part of the magic. It was designed to prevent us from escaping. When we’re away from our master—you, and this period becomes longer, we become weaker and weaker.”

“So at the end of the day… God, what cruel magic this is,” Gulping, you scanned all three men with a heavy heart. It must have been torture for them to endure this existence. Even as you spoke, your heart ached with empathy, imagining what they had been subjected to. Anger and sadness gripped your body as you contemplated their plight. “Is there anything else I can do for you? My house isn’t too big, but I want you to be comfortable during your stay here.”

It was Bi-Han who responded, his narrowed gaze resembling two thin lines, as if he were dissecting your sincerity. You couldn’t help but feel a pang as you tried to discern whether he believed you. While you understood his skepticism, winning their trust seemed like a daunting task.

“You can start by finding us clothes.”

[atimeofyourlife]

Old face, new place

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles warm up: High school or College AU

rated: t | cw: none | tags: disabled Steve Harrington, pre-Steddie | wc:1000

Steve and Eddie meet again in college. The Upside Down still happened, but Eddie was never involved.

Honestly, Steve never thought he would go to college. Between his average grades, lack of ambition, and just not knowing what he wanted to do, it just didn’t seem to be on the cards for him. But it all changed after the Upside Down turned his life upside down.

After it was all over, and he’d been disowned by his parents, he and Robin moved to Chicago together. It was there she encouraged him to start taking classes at the same community college as her, to try and get a degree.

And that was how he got here, facing down the door of an art room, trying to build up the courage to go in. He’d signed up to be a nude model for a figure drawing class. At $20 a session, it would really help stretch his and Robin’s lousy paychecks that bit further. As he opened the door, he could hear the teacher reminding the class to be mindful about the model's bodies. That made him feel a little more uneasy, because it reminded him that it was the first time anyone other than doctors or Robin had seen him uncovered since everything with Vecna, and then losing his leg in the final showdown. He stripped down in the cubicle at the side of the room, changing into just a bathrobe.

As he came into the main space, he could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on his prosthetic. He reached the stool set up for him, and slipped off the robe. A collective gasp rang through the room, and he knew it was because of the scarring from the demo-bat attacks. 

He got into a pose, and tried to forget where he was. Whenever he took a minute to move because of getting too stiff, he glanced over the class, seeing if there was anyone he recognized. There was one guy who felt vaguely familiar, who would not stop staring at his scars, his gaze more intense than anyone else’s.

Eddie had always known that college wasn’t in the cards for him. Hell, it took him three attempts to graduate high school. And he was only successful the last time because everyone in the class of ‘86 was allowed to graduate without sitting their finals because of the freak earthquake, and the murders, that happened during spring break that year. Wayne had all but forced him into volunteering in the relief efforts, but as soon as he had his diploma in hand, he was hightailing it out of town, looking for something better.

He ended up in Chicago, working evenings in a bar, and getting an apprenticeship to become a tattoo artist. He was a few months into the apprenticeship when his mentor recommended that he take a couple of semesters of art classes at the local community college to help him with technique and to refine his style. He tried to deny it on grounds of cost, but it was covered under the apprenticeship program.

Which is how he found himself a few months in, sitting in a figure drawing class. He zoned out a little as the teacher brought up the rules that had been laid out on the first day of the figure drawing unit, about making the models comfortable and not saying anything about their bodies. That hadn’t happened before any of the other models came in, so it did make Eddie wonder. Maybe it would be a guy with a really interesting dick.

Instead, it was Steve Harrington, of all people, that limped into the room. Eddie couldn’t help but watch as he went into the corner blocked off for the models to change in. What had brought King Steve to be a model for an art class? Looking for more validation on how pretty he was? Trying to pick up girls?

He brought himself out of his thoughts as Steve came out in a robe and. A prosthetic leg. That explained the limp, but brought so many more questions about what had happened. Because Eddie clearly remembered Steve in those tiny gym shorts and he definitely wasn’t missing a leg at that point. 

Then Steve dropped the robe. Eddie, alongside the rest of the class, gasped. And not for the reason he’d thought he would be gasping when seeing Steve Harrington naked. He had horrific scarring on his chest and sides. Just opening even more questions to what the hell had happened to him.

He did his best to complete the assigned drawing, but his eyes kept getting drawn to Steve’s scars. The curiosity kept building as the time went on, and he was unsure if he’d be able to keep it in. 

He packed up slowly at the end, wanting to try and catch Steve. They’d never been friends, but he needed to know if he was okay. He waited until they were both out of the room, before he called after him. “Hey, Harrington.”

Steve turned around, and looked at Eddie for a moment before recognition flashed in his eyes. “Munson.”

“Are- are you okay?” He asked, feeling a bit lost, unsure if what he wanted to ask was inappropriate.

“You mean my-” Steve rested his hand on his side where the worst of the scarring was. “Animal attack during the earthquake. It’s fine now.”

“And your-” Eddie’s gaze dropped to Steve’s legs.

“An accident a few months later.”

“Damn. You’ve really been through it, Harrington.”

Steve gave a bitter laugh that Eddie couldn’t quite read. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Maybe you could tell me some of it? Over coffee if you’re free?” Eddie suggested.

Steve looked at his watch. “I’ve got class in like twenty minutes. But I’ll be free after eleven tomorrow?”

Eddie ran through his scheduling in his mind, he was in the shop in the morning. “I’m working in the morning, but I’ll be off about two. We could do a late lunch or something?”

“It’s a date.” Steve agreed.

[teacherstudiies]

August 10 2023 | 🐝

And with this post I conclude my journey of becoming a teacher. Thank you to everyone who has been following along, ever since I started posting in High School. It's been almost 10 years of working towards this diploma. 3 years of High School, 5 years of University and 1 1/2 years of teaching training has gone by so quickly I cannot quite comprehend I am there where I dreamt of being when I was 16. I know she would be proud we did it - so this is for her. I will make sure to become a kind, compassionate, patient and knowledgeable teacher. I truly believe in the power of education and knowledge, and I will forever fight for those who are being denied this power. As Malala once said: “Let us pick up our books and our pens, they are the most powerful weapons.”

However your books may look like, I hope you find the courage to wield them.

[dinocanid]

This might be a hot take related to the current discourse (and is much more broad than the original topic and only tangentially related) but like, I don't think you have to know anything about your kintype/theriotype/etc. to know that's what you are.

Not to say that research doesn't help people, it certainly can help someone confirm/deny what their nonhuman identity is, and it is possible to be wrong the first time around, but for some people that's legit just bonus information. Neat to know but not necessary to figuring things out. It makes absolutely zero sense to be like "you can't be sure unless you can recite some wikipedia facts to me right now", or if you can play spot the difference between two (very similar looking) species. There is no alterhuman diploma.

To use a personal example: one of my kintypes is a wolf, I do not know most things about wolves off the top of my head. Don't ask me anything about wolf ecology outside the bare basics, I couldn't tell you. When I was really young I thought my nonhuman identity was a dog until one day I had the epiphany that I was actually a wolf. I didn't have to bury my head in research to figure that out, I just knew for not much reason. Any information on wolves I know today is stuff I picked up here and there over the years, independent of my identity. Even so, most wolf facts are irrelevant to me as a wolf since I wasn't wild and don't act like most wolves do or have the same instincts or behaviors. If anything I would've been thrown off-path, possibly for years, because my experiences didn't match that of wild wolves.

All this to say, you do what works for you and don't set the bar for entry based on your personal journey. Your experiences are not universal and all that. Some people just know for no reason, that's fine. Some people don't know and need that extra research, that's ok too. This feels like The Discourse Ever(tm) to be starting 2024 with, this feels like something people would've argued about in 2010.

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 5: "Graduation"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You met Matthew Murdock unexpectedly at Columbia University and you couldn't deny that there was an instant attraction–for you. But for Matt, you became as close of a friend to him as Foggy did. As the years pass by, your feelings only grow for your best friend, but all you can do is watch as he dates and sleeps with every other woman on campus and eventually in New York City but you.

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 4.2k

a/n: This one hurts a little differently than the others. But oh, the next installment will be interesting...and that one is tentatively titled "Jealous and Impolite," but the title may change a tad when I have it written out. And we're pretending Foggy and Matt briefly get an apartment together at the beginning of their internship but then have their own place shortly before they open their own firm (but it's not really important besides Matt's upcoming nighttime hobby). The list of installments for this series can be found here. And feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella2 @ms-murdockswift

Weaving your way around the crowds of people milling about in different directions outside on the campus lawn, your hands nervously fidgeted with the powder blue cap held between them. Your robes swished around your bare calves as you navigated the uproar around you, the weight of them uncomfortable over your dress on this warmer late May afternoon. All the while your eyes searched for Matt and Foggy among the chaos as you maneuvered your way around group after group of people. 

Your graduation ceremony had finished just before theirs, but you'd stayed behind in order to watch the pair of them walk, just like you’d promised them you would. You hadn't had a chance to see either of them before graduation this morning though, having been too busy getting ready yourself while trying to refrain from vomiting from the nerves swirling in your stomach. And when Matt's name had finally been called out and you had seen him walk across that stage in his own powder blue cap and gown, your heart had nearly stopped in your chest at the sight. It was like time had slowed down to a drag, your eyes following his every movement. He looked so handsome and happy, a broad smile on his face as he accepted the diploma cover. It wasn't until he'd walked off the stage that you had realized you'd been holding your breath, a wide smile spread across your own mouth. 

After his breakup with Elektra, Matt’s motivation had significantly plummeted. He’d been a mess for weeks, barely ever wanting to leave his bed and attend classes. He often said it wasn’t because of her, trying to deny it everytime you or Foggy tried to comfort him over the situation, but you and Foggy knew better. Matt hadn’t been himself for a very long time after Elektra had broken his heart. He’d even almost missed an important exam that he needed to pass in order to graduate the other week. If it hadn’t been for Foggy forcing him to get out of bed and get dressed and then practically dragging him to the exam himself, Matt would surely have missed it and he wouldn’t have been walking across that stage today. 

And the thought of that killed you, knowing just how much it had meant to Matt to graduate with this degree. How hard he’d been working for years for it. He had always been so incredibly passionate about law and about wanting to help those who weren’t fortunate enough to be able to afford good legal representation in the future. He’d been like that since the day you’d first met him in the library. You had spent many a night over the past couple of years listening to him and Foggy debate different topics in their dorm room–ethics often being a big one between them. And the way Matt always spoke so eloquently and intensely about his love and desire to help others had only steadily grown your love for him in return over the years you’d come to know him. He had the most compassionate heart of anyone you’d ever met and he had the most brilliant mind to accompany it. So it only broke your own heart further seeing him giving up on his dreams ever since she had disappeared. Which had once again only given you further reason to hate Elektra–she’d come into his life in a whirlwind and left a mess of the man he’d once been in her wake. 

Though while she’d certainly crushed his spirit–withering it away to almost nothing–she hadn’t broken him completely. You and Foggy had spent plenty of time picking up the pieces and putting him slowly back together. Encouraging him to focus on his studies and to let her go. Eventually he’d done just that, and now him and Foggy were off to intern at a large law firm–Landman and Zack. The pair of them had even gotten an apartment together lined up. Meanwhile, you were still waiting to hear back about the position you’d interviewed for last week, hoping you would have the funds to continue to pay for the apartment you’d recently leased. You were waiting on that news to come some time today, though.

The sound of your name being called out from behind you drew you to a stop and pulled you straight from your thoughts. Your brows furrowed as you spun in a circle, searching for whoever it was that might have been calling for you. A few seconds later, your eyes scanning the throngs of people around you, you finally spotted Foggy and Matt emerging from the masses. Both men were grinning wide, Matt holding onto Foggy’s forearm as Foggy led the pair of them over towards you. They were clutching their diploma covers under an arm, the sight still surreal.

“I didn’t think I’d ever find you two!” you exclaimed, making your way towards them.

“It’s a goddamn madhouse here!” Foggy shouted back, the grin never leaving his mouth. “And don’t you look stunning in that baby blue potato sack!”

You laughed, shooting Foggy the finger before your eyes shifted to Matt. The pair of them came to a stop just before you and you felt your heart speed up in your chest as your eyes took in the sight of Matt in his cap and gown. His dark glasses were covering his eyes, but nothing could hide the glow of sheer happiness and excitement on his face as he beamed back at you. You tried hard to fight the ridiculous smile on your own face as you stared at him for a moment, but you noticed Foggy beside him had certainly caught the stupid, dopey smile you were aiming at Matt. Heat rose up to your cheeks as you glanced down in embarrassment, grateful Matt couldn’t see it himself.

“We fucking did it!” Foggy cried out. 

“I can’t believe it still,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair. “Like, I feel like I still have classes next week to attend. Projects to finish. More boring lectures to heavily caffeinate before so I don’t fall asleep.”

Matt chuckled, the sound warm and comforting to your nerves. He was always so comforting to you, though, you thought. And he never even realized it.

“It might be awhile before it sinks in, but you certainly don’t have all of that to worry about anymore,” he assured you.

“No,” Foggy cut in. “Now we just have to worry about getting jobs and paying bills.”

“Speaking of,” Matt began, his head tilting to the side as he focused in on you, “did you hear back from that company yet?”

Shaking your head a little solemnly, you replied with a soft, “No.”

“Ahh, well,” he said, the smile never leaving his face, “I’m sure you’ll hear back later today with good news. You’re amazing and they’d be morons not to hire you.”

“If only I could put that on my resume,” you joked.

Someone hit your elbow as they barreled past you from behind. You winced, rubbing your arm as you shot them a glare at their back. Beside Matt, Foggy sent you a sympathetic look.

“Why don’t we get out of this post-ceremony chaos?” he suggested. “Before the next one starts?”

Your eyes darted around, taking in the neverending streams of people. There was a sea of powder blue almost everywhere you looked.

“Yeah, I think that’s a great idea,” you agreed.

Matt quickly shifted his diploma cover to his hand, extending the arm he wasn’t hanging on to Foggy with out towards you. Your eyes dropped down to it, your brows drawing together in confusion.

“Here, you want to hold on to me?” Matt asked, his arm still offered towards you. “I don’t want to lose you out here. I know I can’t actually see the chaos ensuing, but I can certainly hear it. Sounds pretty bad.”

Switching your own diploma to the other hand, you reached out and looped your arm through Matt’s. He drew you in close to his side immediately after, taking you by surprise when your hip bumped up against his thigh under his graduation gown. Foggy peering around Matt completely cut off whatever reaction your body was about to have to that contact instantly.

“Hey, you want to come with us to grab lunch?” Foggy asked. “My family wanted to celebrate last minute and I know yours couldn’t be here today. You want to join us?”

The three of you began walking, Foggy and you navigating the group of you around the masses of people as Matt fell in step between you both. Your hip kept brushing up against Matt’s thigh though and it was taking every ounce of your focus to ignore it as you walked.

“Oh, lunch?” you asked, hip yet again bumping Matt’s solid thigh. 

“You’d make me feel less like the weird, adopted child,” Matt joked.

You laughed lightly, turning your body just at the last moment towards Matt to avoid bumping into a couple walking past you. You felt his arm tense around yours as your chest briefly pressed against him before you swiftly pulled back away. 

“I uh, I can’t,” you answered quickly, trying to ignore whatever weirdness you’d just caused. “I haven’t finished packing up my dorm fully. Sort of wanted to get it done before dinner tonight.”

Foggy peered around Matt again, catching your eye. “You’re still coming over to celebrate tonight at least, right?” he asked. “Because I’ll be mad at you if you don’t.”

You scoffed loudly, rolling your eyes. “Are you kidding me, Nelson? Of course I’m coming over to celebrate our last night in our dorms. Why the hell would I miss that?” you asked.

“Just making sure,” he said.

The three of you finally made it away from the ceremony location, coming to a stop just before one of the main paths on campus. People were still milling about, but it was at least vastly less populated here. You slipped your arm out from underneath Matt’s, his head snapping towards you at the loss of contact.

“This is where we part ways for now then, boys,” you said. “Enjoy your lunch and I’ll see you both later. I’ve got some packing to finish.”

“You’re missing out!” Foggy called after you.

You turned, heading the familiar path back to your residence hall, your heels clicking along the sidewalk as you went. 

“Don’t I know it,” you muttered to yourself, your mind already wandering back to Matt.

Legs crossed on the end of Matt’s bed, you were staring at Foggy across the room. He was passed out, lying half upright against the headboard of his own bed, his mouth hanging open as he snored lightly. The empty pizza box of the pizza the three of you had devoured a bit ago sat open on the end of his mattress.

“Told you he’d be the first to pass out,” Matt said behind you.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, your head turning back towards him. He was leaning against his headboard, one leg crossed over the other in his dark sweatpants. His arms were behind his head, a smile on his mouth. He looked the picture of relaxed as he lay there, his eyes fixed near you on the end of his bed. It never ceased to amaze you how unfairly attractive he was at all times.

“Foggy always passes out first,” you pointed out. “Not really anything new there, Murdock.”

He laughed lightly, nodding his head. “You have a point,” he agreed. “Suppose it wouldn’t be our last night here if it didn’t involve Foggy passing out early after a handful of beers.”

A heaviness hit you in the chest at Matt’s words, your eyes dropping down to your lap. Your fingers played with the hem of your jeans, a soft sigh leaving you. Matt’s foot gently nudged your knee, drawing your attention back up to his face. His dark brows were drawn together, a deep crease forming on his forehead. His head tilted to the side as he studied you with a slight frown.

“What’s up?” he asked. “Thought you’d be more excited. We just graduated. You got the job you wanted–which I mean, I already knew you would. But this is supposed to be a good night. Why the sullenness?”

Because I also won’t have nights like these ever again.

“I am excited,” you admitted slowly. “But I mean it’s–it’s a little bittersweet, isn't it? Hanging out with you and Foggy was my routine for a couple of years now. Coming over here and studying with you guys. Or just drinking and hanging out and ordering incredibly strange combinations of takeout.”

Matt broke into a laugh, the bright sound cutting you off. “Certainly some strange combinations. Foggy is a genius when it comes to ordering the right food when you’re drunk though,” he mused.

“Yeah, he is,” you agreed, a sad smile on your lips. “And that was our thing for years. But now?” You shrugged lightly. “I won't be able to just walk to the residence hall beside mine and hop on an elevator to reach your guys' place. There's no more sitting around eating pizza and drinking beer late at night after tonight.” You felt your eyes welling up with tears and you immediately focused back on your fidgeting hands. “Now we’re getting apartments and jobs. Becoming adults. Needing sleep because we work."

And I’m losing you.

Your heart twisted in your chest at the thought. Sure, you weren’t leaving New York City and neither were they–hell, you were all moving into Hell’s Kitchen. But how long before your lives went in separate directions? Before they settled down and became successful lawyers who ran in entirely different circles than you? When would your friendship suddenly fall away?

“Hey,” Matt said softly.

The tone of his voice caught your attention and you looked back up at him. You watched him scoot over on the bed, his left hand coming down and patting the space beside him. Your lip slipped between your teeth as you nervously chewed it.

“Come sit with me?” he asked.

Unable to ever refuse Matt, you uncrossed your legs and made your way gradually over to the top of his bed. Sitting down beside him, you leant your back against his headboard and settled in next to him. It took you by surprise when Matt easily slipped his left arm around your shoulders and drew you further into his side until your head inevitably rested along his shoulder. Your hands awkwardly clasped together in your lap, feeling unsure what to do with them. Matt had never really been this forthright with you before. 

“It is a little bittersweet,” he agreed gently. “You and Foggy have become like the family I never really had while I’ve been here. And you–you both mean a lot to me.” 

He blew out a breath slowly, your head falling with the movement of his shoulder. You noticed he smelled really good, as if he’d put on a faint bit of cologne today. Something you never really noticed him doing before. Your head turned just a bit in towards his neck as you tried to breathe in the scent of him a little more, committing it to memory.

“Things are changing, sure,” he continued, “but I still plan to be here as long as you are. I don’t think anything can separate the three of us.”

“You say that now,” you mumbled. “But you don’t know how the next few years are going to go.”

His arm lightly shook you, your name falling from his lips so softly. The sound of it drew the corners of your mouth up ever so slightly.

“You are one of my absolute best friends,” Matt admitted. “And as long as you want my dumb ass as your friend, I’ll always be here.”

You snorted in amusement, shaking your head against his shoulder and ignoring that dull ache that always hit you when Matt called you his friend. 

“You’re the furthest thing from being a dumbass,” you said. “Especially with your fancy new law degree now.”

He chuckled, the sound a pleasant, deep rumble in your ears. You smiled, eyes dropping closed as you leaned further into him. You wanted to memorize every detail of this moment with him, to commit it to memory in your mind forever, because you were certain you’d never have another moment like this again with Matt. Not after college. He'd certainly be bombarded with beautiful women left and right, especially as a successful lawyer. Eventually he’d find someone and settle down with them. And you would slowly fade from his life no matter what he said. 

Your eyes tightened a little harder, fighting back the threat of tears at that thought. You didn’t want to think about the day Matt was no longer a part of your life.

"We can still get together on the weekends," Matt told you. "Maybe Saturday nights? We can make it a thing, even."

"Fog said you guys were going to be insanely busy at that internship," you pointed out, fighting to keep your voice from cracking. "Working weekends even."

Matt shrugged in response, your head rising and falling with the movement yet again. You felt his hand begin to gently rub along your arm, the gesture confusing as much as it was comforting you. Matt had never touched you like this before, had never wanted you close to him like this. He must have been experiencing that same bittersweet nostalgic feeling you were with knowing both your lives were about to change drastically. 

"We'll figure it out," he promised you. "We're bound to take breaks at some point, right? We'll make it work. I'm not losing you."

Your hands balled into fists in your lap, your jaw tightening at what he’d said. Those last four words hung heavy in the air between the pair of you. The desire to suddenly spill forth your feelings to Matt was almost unbearable. Whether it was from the excitement of the day, the three beers you’d had tonight, the nervous fear of how things were about to change, or the way Matt’s hand was still soothingly gliding back and forth along your arm, you somehow found yourself wanting to tell him how you felt. You desperately wanted him to know how much you’d loved him for years. 

Your fingernails dug into your palms from where your hands were still balled up. The thought of having that weight lifted from your shoulders was so tempting. You just wanted to stop hiding it from him, to stop holding yourself back. You just wanted to say it, just once.

But you knew you couldn't ultimately say anything at all. Matt had said it himself multiple times tonight already–you were his friend. Like family to him. He wouldn’t want to hear you express your love for him in any way that wasn’t strictly familial and platonic.

“I wish my dad had been here today,” Matt whispered.

With a shaky exhale, your eyelids flew back open and you pushed your previous thoughts aside–as you'd done many times before. You focused on Matt instead. Shifting your head along his shoulder, you looked up at him beside you. His lips were pulled into a deep frown, the sorrow written plain as day in his eyes as he stared blankly across the room. The sight had your heart squeezing in your chest exactly like it had done that day you’d seen him after Elektra had smashed his heart.

You knew how much he loved his father and how much he missed him. He’d had a very deep conversation with you one night, a little over a year ago, spilling his heart to you about his father's death. He’d told you how it had affected him. He’d even confessed that he hadn’t ever told Foggy all of that before, that he’d only ever told you. And you had felt honored he would even open up that much to you, expressing such deep, personal feelings. Especially because Matt didn’t let people in easily.

“He was here in his own way today,” you assured him. “And he’d be proud of you, Matt. You graduated at the top of your class. From an Ivy League law school.”

"I just wish I could tell him," he whispered. "Hear what he'd say to me."

Hesitantly you tested his boundaries, lifting your arm and carefully wrapping it around his waist. When he didn't protest, you gently squeezed him in a hug, drawing yourself closer.

"He'd say you're still his smarty pants son, I'm sure," you answered.

A small, almost sad laugh fell out of Matt, his other hand coming up to cover yours. A warmth gradually felt like it filled you as Matt’s thumb lightly stroked the backs of your knuckles. You had no idea what it meant that the pair of you were cuddled up on his bed together like this, but you were just going to let yourself enjoy it tonight. You didn’t want to ruin this moment with reality.

"I can't believe you remembered that I told you he called me that," he whispered. 

"I remember everything you tell me, Matty," you replied. “Especially the important things.”

There was a moment of silence before both of Matt’s hands stopped their absent, almost affectionate movements against your arm and your hand. You frowned, wondering if he’d finally decided the pair of you had crossed some boundary too far out of friendship, especially with what you’d just said. But then his hand released yours, landing gently and almost hesitantly on your neck. You swallowed hard when his fingertips took a slow glide up the length of your throat until his palm could cup your cheek. Carefully he pulled you away from his shoulder, angling your face up towards his as he whispered your name. 

He was looking down at you with his brows slightly drawn together, something unexplainable hidden in his eyes. You couldn’t quite make sense of what it was, your own eyes narrowing back at him as they jumped back and forth between his. His face was so close to yours though, you quickly realized. The warm exhalations of his breath from his slightly parted lips falling against your own mouth each time.

Was he going to kiss you? Surely not…

“You are…absolutely amazing,” he whispered. “And I–I–”

Your heart sped up in your chest, that almost fight or flight reaction abruptly coursing through you. You were almost afraid as you sat there gazing back at Matt, terrified you were steadily letting yourself get your hopes up for something that wasn’t going to happen. You could feel it happening already, that desperate yearning for more only rapidly increasing your panic.

Matt’s gaze shifted from yours, darting across the room towards Foggy for a moment as he winced. His eyes closed briefly before he turned his focus back on you, his sightless eyes falling along your left cheekbone. He winced again–the action incredibly minute this time–before he spoke.

“And I don’t ever want to lose you as my friend,” he finished. “And I just–just want you to know that.”

Your heart sank to the floor at his words. You knew they were coming, you knew it, yet they still managed to hurt. That panicked feeling inside of you quickly dissipated, your body quickly trying to become numb to this moment. Of course he wasn’t about to kiss you and confess his feelings to you. How unrealistic would that have been.

But you realized he was still staring back at you, an expression on his face that further confused you as he clearly waited for you to respond. Pulling away from him, the moment entirely soured to you now, you forced a smile onto your face as his hand fell from your cheek.

“I uh, I don’t want to lose your friendship either, Matt,” you said, forcing to keep your voice even. “But it’s–it’s late. Maybe I should let you get some sleep. We’ve both got a big move tomorrow.”

“Right, yeah,” he said softly, nodding.

You slid away from Matt, making your way to the edge of the bed before climbing off of it. Awkwardly you turned back around towards him, your eyes taking in the sight of him on his dorm room bed for what would be the last time ever. A flood of emotions struck you all at once like a punch to the gut, the weight of this being the end of an era really hitting you in this moment. Things were changing.

“Don’t be a stranger, Matty,” you whispered.

He shot you a tense, sad smile. “I won’t,” he promised.

You spun on your heel, crossing your arms across your chest tight as you made your way out of their dorm room for the last time. It wasn’t until you’d finally made it back to your own building that the tears began to fall. 

Maybe, you thought, it was time for you to let Matt just be your friend. Maybe now it was time to crush that ridiculous lingering hope you’d had for there to ever be something more between you two once and for all.

Maybe you needed to move on.

[lightwing-s]

Can you do a JasonxReader where the reader graduated college and Jason finds a special way to celebrate?

It was all finally over. You’re a college graduate now. Seems like it was only yesterday that you started this journey, but it has finally come to an end.

You felt strange, happy and sad at the same time, stressed with finals and your thesis presentation, and all the planning for the graduation ceremony occupying your head. 

And Jason noticed, and stood by you through everything, helped you with anything, and stood there with the biggest smile on his face watching you walk on stage to get your diploma.

After lunch with your parents and an afternoon spent with your friends, Jason was ready to have you just to himself. “Psh” you heard him whistle at you, immediately turning around to find him hiding in a corner, head poking outside just enough to get your attention. Checking to see if nobody had noticed, you sneaked away in his direction.

“What are you doing?” you asked, amusement evident in your voice as you watched him fill his backpack with food and champagne bottles.

“Rescuing us.” he answered, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of your friend’s apartment. 

Laying your head on his lap, giggles filling the air as the empty champagne bottles decorated the makeshift picnic blanket you’d made out of curtain Jason had stolen from your friend’s house, you two watched the moon rise from the now deserted Robinson Park. Jason’s fingers playing with your hair, as you stuffed the last bits of cake into your and his mouth.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, babe.“ he blurted out.

“Stop it.” you told him, feeling the redness climb up your cheeks for the millionth time today. “I just got a degree.”

“And I’m not supposed to be proud of this? I’m not supposed to be proud my girlfriend is a fucking genious? That she’s now a graduated boss bitch?” he said, holding your face in his hands and spreading kisses all over it.

“Stop, Jay.” you moaned, not holding back the laughs from coming out.

“No!” he screamed, tangling his body on yours and rolling you both on the “blanket”.

You spent some time like that, tangled in each other, cuddling under the moonlight, between kisses and laughter, and many more “I'm proud of you” from your very proud boyfriend.

“I have something for you.” he told you, reaching for a pocket in his backpack and taking out of it a large velvet box. “I thought of you as soon as I saw it.”

Sitting back up, you took the box from his hands and carefully opened it, feeling by it’s weight it was something much more expensive than you were used to gifting each other. You wanted to complain, to tell him you didn’t need his expensive gifts, that just these moments you got to spend with him was enough to make you happy. But opening the box left you in awe, and all thoughts of complaint left your mind.

There laid a thin delicate gold necklace, adorned with pearls and tiny crystals that sparkled brighter than the moon itself. It was ethereal, a piece of jewelry you’d never seen before and you couldn’t have ever imagined. “Jay, I-I…” you tried, but no words formed on your lips.

“Yes, you can. It’s yours, it’s my graduation present. So please, Yn, take it.” Looking up at him, his eyes reinforced his wish for you to take his present and you could not deny. Taking it from the box, you dropped it in his hands.

“Can you put it on me?” you asked, turning around so your back hit his chest. His soft touch tickled your skin, putting the accessory  in place and laying a kiss at nape of your neck, arms soon engulfing you in a tight embrace as his lips continuously met the sensitive area behind your ear.

“I’ll forever be proud of you, princess. Even if you think it’s not worth it, that it might be a small achievement, I’ll be proud. Because I know you are bound to greatness and it’s my biggest happiness to watch you succeed, and I want to be there every step of the way by your side. I love you, and I know you can do anything you want. So yes, I’ll be proud of it, of every little thing, of every silly thing. Because I love you, Yn, more than anything in this world.”