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My Week at the Buzzy Meditation Retreat That Promises Bliss on Demand

New Post has been published on https://sa7ab.info/2024/08/16/my-week-at-the-buzzy-meditation-retreat-that-promises-bliss-on-demand/

My Week at the Buzzy Meditation Retreat That Promises Bliss on Demand

Nick Cammarata has always been unusually happy. The 31-year-old AI safety researcher had a good childhood, but it wasn’t just that; situations that made others depressed seemed to roll off him. “I think I was probably happier than 99% of people. It’s just kind of unfair luck,” he says. “I figured maybe what I had was as good as it gets.”

Then, in 2021, as part of an effort to investigate whether life could get even better, Cammarata discovered the jhanas. These eight advanced meditative states, characterized by deep concentration and blissful absorption, have been practiced for thousands of years but were long considered the domain of mystics and monks with decades of training. Cammarata, however, taught himself to enter these states after around 1,000 hours of solo meditation practice. “I was shocked that it was possible to get this thing you turn on in 10 seconds and just get joy for five hours straight,” he says. “Nobody talks about it.”

So he started to. In the past few decades, a handful of American Buddhist teachers had published books and led retreats on the jhanas, but knowledge hadn’t spread much beyond meditation circles. Cammarata’s enthusiastic tweets about the jhanas got the attention of many in the Bay Area, fueling a growing interest in the ancient practices. Now neuroscientists are researching these altered states of consciousness, more meditation teachers are guiding people into them, and a much hyped startup called Jhourney—where Cammarata is a minor investor—claims most of its participants can reach them in under 40 hours of meditation.

The mainstreaming of the jhanas may represent the next frontier of the mindfulness movement, which has taken hold in American schools, hospitals, and workplaces and, propelled by apps like Calm and Headspace, become a billion-dollar industry. Mindfulness has been shown to minimize stress, improve focus, and help with pain management. It’s perhaps no coincidence that this surge in interest comes as mental-health issues are soaring globally, and as the U.S.—the richest country in the world—has dropped out of the top 20 nations for happiness, largely because of a decline among under 30s. Dr. Matthew Sacchet, director of the Meditation Research Program at Harvard Medical School and Massachusetts General Hospital, believes the destabilization of the pandemic, as well as other global challenges, has contributed to a “crisis of meaning” that makes advanced meditation increasingly appealing.

Read More: The Mindful Revolution

Stephen Zerfas, the 32-year-old CEO and co-founder of Jhourney, describes the startup as a well-being moon shot. “There’s hundreds of millions of people that have experienced meditation, and for them, it’s largely incremental,” he tells me at the Alembic, a meditation center in Berkeley, Calif., in early May. “Far less than 1% of them talk about it as absolutely transformative.”

Many in Silicon Valley see the jhanas as offering a tantalizing promise: a way to reprogram one’s internal software to access bliss on demand. It’s an idea in keeping with the Bay Area’s history as a playground for those chasing both peak performance and peak experience. If done responsibly, the upside could be enormous. Most of us tend to outsource our happiness to external sources—imagining that if we could just get rid of one thing bothering us or obtain another thing we want, we’d finally be happy. Jonas Mago, a cognitive neuroscientist studying the jhanas at McGill University, argues that this mindset overlooks our innate capabilities: “We don’t recognize that we have the profound power of shifting our own states by doing introspective work.”

Now, a new industry around the jhanas is taking shape—one that must navigate thorny tensions between spirituality and market forces. Jhourney’s approach isn’t without controversy. Some critics question whether the company has the expertise to guide retreats safely; others worry about repackaging rich practices as self-help techniques. “Jhourney is saying they’re not Buddhists and yet they’re using a Buddhist term,” says Tina Rasmussen, an American meditation teacher. “And that’s because it sells. If they’re really trying to help people, why are they charging so much?”

On a cool evening in May, I join 42 others in a conference room at the Applegate Jesuit Retreat Center in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. As the room falls silent, five members of the Jhourney team—all young white guys—begin recounting how they went from viewing meditation as a chore to discovering real joy through the practice. As with others here, my own history with meditation is inconsistent at best. As a child with bad eczema, I sometimes used a jaap mala (a loop of prayer beads) to distract myself from the urge to scratch, inspired by my Hindu grandfather who meditated for an hour before dawn each day. But as an adult, my attempts to meditate usually devolved into rumination, leaving me feeling worse. I’ve come here with the same goal as everyone else: to learn how to tap into mind-blowing states of joy—in under a week.

In 2018, reeling from simultaneous breakups with a co-founder and a girlfriend, Zerfas signed up for a 10-day silent meditation retreat. “I quickly learned things could get worse,” he tells the room at Applegate with a grim laugh. After eight days of migraines, he changed techniques and stumbled into the most euphoric experience he’d had in a year. “If this was replicable,” he recalls thinking, “this changes everything.”

For the next year, he meditated daily and tried to hack his way back into that state. It wasn’t until 2021 that he came across Right Concentration, a jhana instruction book by American meditation teacher Leigh Brasington, and found a framework that seemed to explain his experiences.

Though they are most comprehensively delineated in the Theravada Buddhism school of Southeast Asia, the jhanas predate the Buddha and find parallels across contemplative traditions, from Carmelite nuns to Sufi mystics. According to the suttas (core Buddhist scriptures), the Buddha spontaneously entered the first jhana as a child some 2,500 years ago and later gave precise instructions on how to cultivate these progressively more profound states as part of the path to enlightenment. But over time, the jhanas largely fell out of common practice. And even as Western Buddhist teachers have worked to make them more accessible, mastering jhana still took significant time and dedication. “When I first heard about jhana, the assumption I had was that 30 people in the world could do this and maybe I’d be able to do it in my 80s if I practiced really hard,” says Kathryn Devaney, a neuroscientist, founder of the Alembic, and an adviser to Jhourney.

The goal of dramatically reducing the effort needed to access these states motivated Zerfas to quit his software-engineering job at Lyft in 2021 and co-found Jhourney the following year with Alex Gruver, then a management consultant. “It was an insane thing to do,” Zerfas says, “to try to replicate this thing that’s supposedly been around for a few millennia that nobody has heard of and then try to teach other people.”

The company initially focused on developing neurotech, like a consumer headset, to guide people into jhanas, raising $750,000 in pre-seed funding. Last fall, however, Zerfas and Gruver pivoted to retreats, soliciting feedback from around a dozen Buddhist teachers as they developed their approach. They see themselves not as spiritual leaders teaching the Buddhist dharma, but as “engineers” focused on sharing practical guidance as efficiently as possible. Since October, Jhourney has guided over 400 people through 16 retreats, and claims that more than two-thirds of participants enter jhana regardless of meditation experience. The online retreats cost $1,100 and in-person ones start at $1,800, though a higher-end offering in June cost upward of $5,000. (Scholarships are available.) The hope is that within a few years, Jhourney could be teaching tens of thousands of people the jhanas each year. “To reach millions, tech intervention will be necessary,” Zerfas says.

Read More: How Meditation Went Mainstream

For inspiration, he looks to the mindfulness movement, which has effectively secularized and scaled meditation techniques through apps and corporate programs. Traditional jhana instruction, which involves intimate teacher-student relationships and intensive retreats, may be harder to mainstream, but Jhourney wants to promote a bold idea: that interventions can do more than bring those suffering up to a healthy baseline—they can also catapult the ostensibly well-adjusted into unprecedented levels of thriving. Zerfas compares jhana to an inverted panic attack: instead of anxiety spiraling, positive emotions accentuate one another, leading to intense states of bliss and peace. “If you taught people how to navigate these positive-feedback loops in their own system, it would be almost as valuable as reading and writing,” he argues. “We teach those skills in second grade, so why wouldn’t we teach this?”

At my retreat, Burning Man stickers decorate water bottles and conversations touch on Wim Hof ice baths and psychedelic therapy. Most of the 43 people here—I’m one of only six women—are young, affluent tech workers from the founders’ networks or who hang out on “meditation Twitter,” which skews heavily male. We’re told that Jhourney has taken as many lessons from coding boot camps as it has from meditation retreats. Key messages include work smart, not hard; run your own experiments; keep iterating. At first glance, this crowd seems more focused on Silicon Valley-style optimization than traditional spiritual pursuits.

But during a welcome ceremony in the chapel on our first morning, people open up about what brought them here: redefining their relationship to pleasure; showing up for loved ones; navigating a breakup or career transition. Some confess they were hesitant to tell others about their plans, aware that the idea of seeking altered states might seem esoteric or self-indulgent.

I’ve been telling people I’m here “on assignment,” but I quickly realize if I want to access the jhanas, trying to stay detached and analytical isn’t going to work. As I sip a cup of cacao, a giant white Jesus Christ on a crucifix looming above, another word comes to mind: healing.

I’m reluctant to admit this, even to myself. While I’m not typically prone to anxiety or depression, the period before the retreat was among the hardest of my life. In the span of 10 months, I’d been diagnosed with severe endometriosis as well as a rare genetic form of diabetes; then, the simple act of tying my shoe led to agony and emergency spinal surgery for a rare condition that could have caused permanent paralysis if not treated quickly enough. For months afterward, I couldn’t exercise, or sit or stand for longer than 30 minutes without discomfort; I’d lost sensation on my left side from the hip down, and no one could tell me if, let alone when, it might fully return. My relationship with my body had become defined almost entirely by pain and frustration.

Motion is lotion is what I was told repeatedly during rehab, as movement helps nerves regenerate and signals your body to heal. I took that advice to heart, keeping busy with travel, working long hours, and socializing. People kept congratulating me on how well I was doing. Inside, I felt nothing like my old self.

Advised by my physiotherapist to meditate, I started doing app-guided breathing exercises and reading about meditation online. Critics warn that Jhourney risks reducing a profound contemplative path to a quick fix. Truthfully, that’s what appealed when I first emailed Gruver and Zerfas asking if I could attend a retreat and write about it. I’d already lost countless hours to medical appointments, hospital stays, and simply being in pain. I wanted to feel better, and soon.

At the start of the retreat, I hand in my phone, unplugging from email and the news cycle for the first time in a decade. My days begin with lakeside walks in the morning mist, followed by ecstatic dance at 6:45 a.m. and yoga at 11 a.m. Group meditation sessions bookend each day. Most days I meditate for six to eight hours, lying on a sofa or under the trees listening to birdsong.

But meditation, I discover, isn’t inherently relaxing. Humans aren’t designed to be still; meditation involves rewiring evolutionary instincts to seek pleasure and avoid pain. A retreat forces you to confront your psychology, Devaney says: “It’s really gnarly work—not a day at the spa.”

The first morning, we’re tasked with recalling positive memories as a way to spark the joy that might eventually lead to jhana. Instead, virtually every time I shut my eyes, I’m met with intense flashbacks from my year of medical crises. That evening, when someone mentions falling asleep during meditation, I’m shocked.

But the meditation works more quickly than I expected. Within a day, the flashbacks have faded and I find myself regularly drifting off. Over time, I stop policing my mind, no longer berating myself if I get distracted; if my inner critic pops up, I visualize putting her in a hammock to lie down. I become more alert to what I enjoy: one morning, during dance, I realize I am no longer having fun, and rather than forcing myself to stay out of some misplaced sense of obligation, I simply leave.

Still, cultivating positive emotions is harder than I anticipated. I find my typical British stoicism, while useful in a crisis, has inadvertently muted my capacity for joy. When I recite mantras like May I be happy, an internal voice questions my right to happiness in a world full of suffering. The idea of unearned joy feels almost transgressive, undermining everything I’ve learned about needing to work hard and accomplish things in order to be happy.

A turning point comes halfway through the retreat, during a forgiveness meditation. Tears flow as I realize how much anger I’ve been harboring—toward doctors who’d dismissed my symptoms, myself for not seeking help sooner, people in my life who couldn’t see my suffering. As I walk by the lake afterward, listening to birds chirping and frogs croaking, I feel the anger flow through me, white and hot and cleansing.

Soon, I find myself more attuned to my body, able to examine whether an emotion feels open (like joy) or closed (like frustration). We are advised to take cold showers and taste hot sauce, to notice when we are bracing against experience rather than surrendering to it. Gradually, I feel the tingles that apparently signal the start of the jhanas, the kind of thing I once might have dismissed as pins and needles. (Piti is the term Buddhists use; I think of it as a bubbly golden liquid, like champagne.) But I keep running into unexpected resistance, and the doorway to the jhanas shuts.

Of course, I’m not alone in my struggles. “There was an aspect of the Jhourney retreat that felt like you were a Pokémon and they were trying to get you to evolve jhana levels as quickly as possible in a week,” one participant tells me. That strikes a chord: as the days pass, I increasingly feel the pressure of being surrounded by goal-oriented people who are succeeding where I am not.

Succeeding at what, exactly? One of the challenges with the jhanas is that as with falling in love, ordinary speech doesn’t seem to do them justice. Analogies abound: getting goose bumps while listening to music; cuddling with a partner after sex; the satisfaction of completing a major project. The initial jhanas, characterized by high-energy experiences, seem to vary dramatically. One Jhourney participant likens the first jhana to the jolt of putting your tongue onto a battery, while another describes a floating sensation so intense that she wondered if her water had been laced with MDMA. There’s more consensus about the fourth jhana, however, which seems to be characterized by a deep peace and equanimity, a stark contrast to the internal dissonance most of us are used to in everyday life—thinking about emails while talking to a loved one or worrying about a past conversation while trying to enjoy a party. The fourth jhana, Devaney says, “feels like every atom in your body has had a nice meal, a good glass of water, and is sitting back in its armchair after dinner. It’s very profoundly like your whole system is on the same page.”

Read More: How to Be Mindful if You Hate Meditating

This unified state of mind can be a powerful tool for introspection and insight. Many Buddhists see the jhanas as preparation for deeper meditation leading to awakening, not as ends in themselves. “Jhanas offer a systematic training in letting go,” says Shaila Catherine, author of Focused and Fearless (recently republished as The Jhanas). “A mark of genuine mastery of jhana is dispassion toward pleasure, not seeking it on demand.” But some believe that even for those without loftier spiritual goals, the jhanas can be valuable—helping people “move their emotional set point a little more towards the happy scale,” as Brasington puts it.

There are also intense debates about what “counts.” Some teachers, like Catherine, say that jhana requires you to remain completely absorbed for long stretches without a single thought arising. Rasmussen, who co-authored Practicing the Jhanas, believes Jhourney is teaching pleasurable states that fall short of true jhana, which she compares to steam powerful enough to drive a locomotive. “If people think it’s steam when it’s water,” she says, “that is false advertising.”

This is hardly new: for almost as long as people have been practicing the jhanas, they’ve been arguing over how to define them. Brasington says the disagreement stems partly from varying interpretations of ancient texts and partly from the fact people are inclined to believe their way is the right way. “Spiritual teachers, unless they’re really advanced, are just plain old human beings,” he says.

While some teachers see “lighter” versions of the jhanas as more practical for modern lives, concerns persist about diluting the term. Jhourney stands by its use of jhana, emphasizing that it’s transparent about traditional definitions and helps connect participants with resources and teachers if they want to pursue further practice. “We’re just helping people experience more joy when they meditate,” Gruver says. “That seems like such an unambiguously good thing to me.”

Read More: Can Meditation Improve Your Health? Here’s What to Know

Rui Bao, who works in public education, compares her experience during a February retreat to six to eight months of therapy progress, saying it felt as though she were “sitting in a circle holding hands and singing kumbaya with all the different parts of myself.” Jake Eaton, a magazine editor, describes a cathartic experience in which he grieved for the turbulence of his childhood while feeling gratitude for the progress he’s made since. Even people who don’t reach jhana can find therapeutic effects, like one man who cried for the first time in 30 years during his Jhourney retreat.

And for some, the benefits can be lasting. Startup founder Ruby Yu says since her retreat last fall, her self-critical voice has quietened, she can’t remember the last time she got angry, and she’s much more familiar with joy. “That baseline of unpleasantness is much, much lighter,” says Yu, who is now working with Rasmussen to deepen her practice. “Whether or not it’s what the Buddha was truly talking about in the suttas, I don’t care. All I care is that it made meditation a lot easier for me.”

While it’s tempting to think that science will be able to resolve these centuries-old debates, neuroscientists say it’s difficult to define exactly at what point something is or isn’t a jhana. “What we know is that the mind has the capacity to get deeply absorbed by certain experiences,” says Mago, the McGill neuroscientist. “What’s right or wrong in the end is defined by what helps people.”

Richard J. Davidson, founder and director of the Center for Healthy Minds at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, notes that even modest amounts of meditation—under 10 hours of practice in beginners—can change brain plasticity. But he cautions against commercializing the jhanas prematurely. “People saying this benefits them is all well and good, but without real scientific evidence, we have no idea,” he says. “Anyone trying to monetize this should raise red flags.”

Read More: How 5 Minutes of Daily Meditation Enhanced My Life

Neuroscientists are increasingly trying to understand how the jhanas might affect the brain. A January study out of Harvard and Mass General found that the jhanas are related to distinct patterns of neural activity across various parts of the brain that correspond with experiential aspects including attention, joy, and equanimity. Preliminary research by Mago and Michael Lifshitz, an assistant professor of psychiatry at McGill, showed that during deep jhana meditation, patterns of communication in the brain became more flexible and unpredictable and practitioners showed increased cognitive diversity and creativity afterward. These early findings align with theories that deep concentration can short-circuit the brain’s predictive mechanisms—leading to vivid, direct experience as mental chatter falls away. “Our perception of the world is much more malleable and adaptable than we think,” says Lifshitz, “and we can deliberately train our experience to function differently.”

By my final full day on retreat, I’m noticing a subtle internal shift, as if the mental creases that had gathered inside me were smoothing out. Still, I haven’t experienced a jhana, and I find it hard to shake the idea that I’m letting down not just my instructors but also my future readers. Experts say that paradox seems to lie at the heart of jhana. “You need to want it, but also be OK with not getting it,” says philosopher and meditation researcher Terje Sparby. Over lunch, I share my dismay with instructor Grant Belsterling, who encourages me to reframe my experience—to think of happiness less as a state and more as an ongoing process. “You can have a goal without devaluing where you’re currently standing,” he tells me.

That afternoon, during a final 45-minute guided session with curriculum director Judah Newman, I lie on a sofa with my eyes shut and describe a warm yellow feeling of friendliness spreading through my body. Soon I run into a familiar obstacle: the lower left half of my body—still suffering nerve damage—is unable to fully experience that. For months, I’ve been in something of a holding pattern, with no way of knowing if I might regain the sensation I’d lost. Newman asks what the frustration is trying to tell me. “To accept that things won’t ever be the same again,” I reply. Another thought immediately follows: But they can still be good.

This realization unlocks something powerful. Suddenly, a luminous yellow substance washes over me, as if hope is saturating every cell of my body. My mind is filled with a montage of positive images of the future. I can’t stop smiling. After Newman leaves the room, the energy ebbs and flows, alternating between deep contentment and intense glee. At one point, I laugh uncontrollably for a minute or two. It feels like being on a drug.

When he returns, I tell him about my experience. He smiles: “That’s usually what I think of as the first jhana.”

Whether it’s real or “diluted” seems beside the point. For the rest of the afternoon, I experience a kind of surreal afterglow: flowers and leaves seem brighter, ordinary things are funnier, and I feel a newfound lightness toward people around me. For months, my body had felt alien and disconnected. Now I’m finally embracing it as a whole, capable of both pain and profound joy. For the first time in a long time, I feel compassion rather than frustration toward myself.

Jhourney’s motto, “Come for the bliss, stay for the personal growth,” acknowledges that while confronting internal conflicts can be unpleasant, it’s often transformative. But as meditation has gone mainstream, the marketing has often glossed over its primary purpose: radically transforming one’s sense of self and reality. That reshaping of perception can be seriously destabilizing. “People didn’t know what they were signing up for when they were just paying attention to their breath,” says Ruben Laukkonen, a meditation researcher at Australia’s Southern Cross University.

There’s an increasing awareness of the potential risks of meditation, especially in high doses, as reports of depression, anxiety, and psychosis, though rare, have surfaced. “The journey to the cliff edge can be incredibly short,” warns Daniel Ingram, a retired emergency-medicine physician and author of Mastering the Core Teachings of the Buddha.

One woman’s Jhourney experience illustrates these concerns. The woman, who requested anonymity to protect her privacy, says she had informed the company of her history with depression but quickly began to feel highly agitated during an online retreat. “For about a month after, I lived in a state of very intense alarm,” says the woman, who left early, in part because of a family matter. While she thinks the experience may have ultimately been beneficial, it felt unpredictable. And though she praised the facilitators’ compassionate response, she didn’t seek further help from them, feeling that they were too young and inexperienced to guide her. More troublingly, fellow meditators discouraged her from speaking out, fearing she might “tank” a cool new company. “In this splash of enthusiasm, people who have a bad experience might be tempted not to talk about it,” she says, “because they’re afraid that they’ll seem like buzzkills.”

Jhourney declines to comment on specific individuals but acknowledges the risks, estimating that 1% of participants have experienced difficult emotions from some sort of internal conflict or trauma—but claiming they almost all later find the experience positive. Establishing the dangers of meditation is tricky: no one tracks base rates; meditation may attract those with pre-existing psychological challenges; some believe discussing negative experiences can become self-fulfilling prophecies; factors like participant selection criteria, dosage, and meditation technique all play a role. (Jhourney uses Imperial College London’s exclusion criteria for psychedelic research to screen participants.)

Critics like meditation teacher Vince Horn have accused Jhourney of “arrogantly endangering people’s mental health” in pursuit of capital gain. But Zerfas and Gruver believe their approach is safer than that of other retreats, highlighting innovative measures they’ve implemented in consultation with top experts. David Treleaven, author of Trauma-Sensitive Mindfulness, says Jhourney’s plan sets a new industry standard, “the kind of thorough and thoughtful approach I’ve long hoped to see in the field of meditation.”

Much of the backlash against Jhourney stems from a deeper skepticism among many Buddhists toward commercializing spiritual practices. They warn that fast-tracking the jhanas outside of the structure of ancient lineages risks overlooking crucial insights and that meditation stripped of its ethical core could be weaponized for ego-boosting or other destructive tendencies.

And yet millions could potentially benefit from deep meditative practices without subscribing to Buddhist norms. Secular teachings may also offer people more agency than traditional hierarchical models. “We want a plurality of ethics,” says Lifshitz. “We don’t want to assume that just because someone is a skilled meditator and a good teacher they have the right ideas about what’s good in the world.”

Zerfas doesn’t believe any religion can claim IP on the jhanas, calling them “discoveries, not inventions.” He says it’s almost a “moral imperative” to share them widely, and companies can scale access more effectively than nonprofits. “For-profit models live or die by their impact,” he says.

And while Gruver recognizes that Jhourney’s current staff may be positioned to teach a certain audience, he remains optimistic that over time, many organizations could work together to discover how different demographics best learn these techniques. “There are going to be hundreds of approaches to this problem. We just want that work to get done.”

In the final season of the TV show The Good Place, the characters arrive in the afterlife only to discover that even eternal bliss can lose its luster. With every desire met, the residents of the actual Good Place, or heaven, have become apathetic, their lives stripped of purpose. “Everyone is a happiness zombie!” one character exclaims.

The scene captures a key concern some Buddhists have about Jhourney’s approach. They fear it might create “jhana junkies” who get overly attached to pleasurable states, missing out on deeper spiritual insights that reduce self-interest and increase wisdom and compassion. Critics argue that without proper follow-up, practitioners might just sit around getting high on self-generated pleasure.

Yet to my surprise, it seems that for most people, finding the bliss button doesn’t make you want to press it all the time. Sasha Chapin, a writer who has been meditating for over a decade, describes the jhanas as “cool toys that you tend to put away after an initial period of obsession.” Pure pleasure, it turns out, isn’t really what humans want.

Modern meditation culture draws in a wide array of people, from the deeply suffering to the casually curious, from spiritual New Age seekers to productivity hackers. “Aren’t we all here to become a more effective person?” one man candidly remarked during my retreat. While it’s easy to dismiss the interest in the jhanas as another Silicon Valley fad, Devaney argues that even the much derided Bay Area “optimizer” mindset can be a starting point for real transformation. “If you’re going to try to do something to make yourself feel better than other people, it’s better to meditate than to buy a helicopter,” she says. “Eventually, the meditation is going to show you yourself in a way that buying all the helicopters is not.”

For all the debates, Jhourney does seem to be offering a taste of profound states to many who might otherwise never encounter them. Some participants, myself included, discover a new appreciation for meditation that may ultimately lead to deeper self-exploration. “Jhana is like pouring water onto the leaves of a plant,” Cammarata argues. “It also goes very deeply into the roots, whether you know it or not.”

My curiosity about Jhourney had been sparked by a desire for a quick fix. On my retreat, I realized how impossible that was. Two months and many hours of meditation later, my emotional range has widened. I feel love and joy more strongly, and while self-compassion may not come naturally, I’m less inclined to fight my body’s limitations—instead tapping back into that feeling of wholeness. In trying to make myself “better,” I stumbled upon an age-old lesson: true peace comes from accepting things just as they are.

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douxlen · 3 months ago

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My Week at the Buzzy Meditation Retreat That Promises Bliss on Demand

New Post has been published on https://douxle.com/2024/08/14/my-week-at-the-buzzy-meditation-retreat-that-promises-bliss-on-demand/

My Week at the Buzzy Meditation Retreat That Promises Bliss on Demand

Read More: The Mindful Revolution

Read More: How Meditation Went Mainstream

Read More: How to Be Mindful if You Hate Meditating

Read More: Can Meditation Improve Your Health? Here’s What to Know

Read More: How 5 Minutes of Daily Meditation Enhanced My Life

When he returns, I tell him about my experience. He smiles: “That’s usually what I think of as the first jhana.”

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accio-moony · 4 years ago

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Escape || Remus Lupin x Reader SMUT

Request: no. A/N: I’ve been working on this for months. I am disgusted with myself for taking so long. Not fully edited, so probably lots of mistake. Forgive me. Word Count: ~9k Characters/Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader, James, Lily, and Harry Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew Summary: [NO VOLDEMORT AU, post Hogwarts Marauder’s era]It’s near a full moon, but you and your boyfriend Remus are going to Harry’s fifth (5th) birthday celebration. Remus gets really turned on when he sees you with Harry and tries to control it, but he can’t. WARNINGS: face fucking, breeding kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, spanking, marking (scratching, hicks, biting), grinding hair pulling, choking, teasing, dom/sub relationship, overstimulation, dirt talk [all in no particular order god I’m disgusting] *not my gifs*

A loud crash sounds from outside your bathroom, making you jump in surprise and almost slip on the slick shower floor. Out of instinct, your arms come up to cover your chest, though the curtain covers you and whoever it was hasn’t made it to the bedroom yet. Quickly, you turn the water off, and you’re left cold as the remaining hot water runs off of your body. You grab the fluffy towel you had set out and wrap it around your frame before picking your wand up from the counter and slowly opening the bathroom door. You sneakily move to the bedroom doorway and peak down the hall. A tall shadowed figure stands in the great room, a duffle bag in one of his hands, a wand in the other.

“Y/n” the familiar voice calls to you when the man sees you. “Hold on. Lumos.” A small orb of light sits at the end of the man’s wand, and you can quickly identify the face of your boyfriend of several years, Remus, from under the blue-glow of the wand’s light.

“Oh, Remus,” you sigh, and your shoulders relax. “You scared me.” You walk down the hall to him and smack his arm playfully.

“Hmm, I missed you, too,” he grumbles and leans down, kissing you.

The kiss is soft and quick, but still holds all the love you’ve both built up over the years. When he pulls his lips away from yours, you whine, not yet having opened your eyes as you revel in the messed feelings of his lips on yours. He had just spent two weeks with one of his best mates, Sirius, but he was now home.

“Rem,” you say as you open your eyes, but he’s no longer standing in front of you. “Remus?” You call and turn back down the hall.

You find him in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed next to his duffle bag which he had put down. His head leans into his hands as his elbows rest on his knees. You move from the hall to stand between his legs, but he doesn’t look up at you. You carefully grab his cheeks in your hands and pull his face up so he’s looking at you, but he keeps his eyes closed with furrowed brows.

His actions confuse you. He’s usually very affectionate with you, loving any touch you give him. Slightly confused by his lack of reaction, you think of any obvious reason he could be acting this way, and your mind found the answer rather quickly: the full moon is in just two days. You turn your head back to him, not saying a word as you remove one hand from his cheek and trace your index finger down the bridge of his nose. He softens under your touch this time and quickly reaches up to wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer so he can rest his head on your belly.

You giggle as you run your fingers through his hair. “I thought we had planned to meet at James’s, honey?” You question him.

At the mention of the small celebration that takes place in just over an hour, Remus drops his arms from your waist and leaned back on his elbows with his head lolled back, and of course, you take immediate notice to his change in demeanor.

“We don’t have to go, Rem,” you quickly counter. “We can stay home, just the two of us, in bed if you’d like.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “You want to go. I would want to go if I weren’t so… well, you know. And they’re expecting us.” He looks into your eyes as he stands from the bed, his tall frame making you stumble back a few steps as he becomes unexpectedly close, towering over you several inches. He places his hands on your shoulders, steadying you as he plants a kiss to your cheek, but his lips linger and wander back towards your ear, his breath hot against your skin making your blood boil. “I’ll be fine,” he says lowly, “but you better go finish getting ready before I change my mind.” His hand slides down and then under your arm, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you closer until your chest is pressed against his own. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.” His lips trail back over your cheek and jaw until they reach your lips. He captures yours with his own in a hungry kiss, the hand not around your waist wrapping into your still wet hair and pulling it backwards so he has better access to your mouth. The tension of the pull makes you let out a whiny moan into the kiss as your skin heats up.

You pull away and look into his eyes. They’re dark with lust and hunger. “Go,” he demands, and you scurry into the bathroom, Remus clapping his hand on your butt as you walk away, closing the door behind you and finishing getting ready.

Once the door is closed behind you, Remus pushes his hand down on his semi, trying to give it some sort of relief. You don’t know yet, but he had gone to spend some time with Sirius, because they were discussing how Remus would ask you to marry him, and he had picked out the ring. You’re the only person in his life to ever make him feel normal and worthy of love. You had convinced him, after many years, that he is not a monster. He’s just Remus, with a furry-little-problem once a month. It had taken him years to believe you, and sometimes it’s still hard for him to, but you had shown him that his lycanthropy does not define who he is, and that he is, in your words, the best guy you’ve ever met and ever will meet. It wasn’t until the both of you left Hogwarts that he knew you were right. He knew you would always be by his side, no matter what condition, no matter what happens. You stood with him for the seven years of Hogwarts like you had known him all your life. You didn’t bat an eye when he told you about him, and you worked with his fellow marauders to become an animagus for him, so you could be with him for his transformations, not just to take care of him on the ends of it. He knows, and as his friends have pointed out on many occasions, you would never leave him. You love him too much. Remus would have to do something truly terrible for you to leave his side. After having convinced himself for so long that he could never have a real family, or even friends, you finally made him grow comfortable enough to the idea to believe he can, though he hadn’t told you yet. To your knowledge, he was still an insecure boy who thought he could never love. He knew you wouldn’t stop until you knew you had convinced him, and then you’d continue reinforcing the idea from then on. He’s able to imagine you with a grown baby, carrying his child, but he never mentioned it to anyone until this past holiday when he told Sirius. He had always pushed the thought aside, not wanting to get his hopes up, not wanting to pass his lycanthropy to an innocent infant. If you loved him for what he is, and you take care of him, then he knows you would do the same for your child, but the thought of passing the trait still terrifies him, but to a lesser extent.

He turns to his bag on the bed and pulls the small velvet box out of the hidden pocket inside, going to hide it in one of his drawers, one you never go in — his underwear drawer. He opens the box, admiring the ring for a moment. The ring is small, simple but elegant, and he knows you’ll love it, he knows it reflects your personality and relationship perfectly. It’s simple: besides all the crazy stuff in between, the main picture is just love — the only thing that matters in the relationship. He still has to decide how to ask you. He knows he wants it to be romantic, but he also wants it to be as soon as possible. The romantic part isn’t difficult, it’s the having to wait until they’re not so close to the full moon. He could ask you tonight, before the gathering, but he doesn’t want you to think of it as a rash decision he made because of the full moon. If it was, he would’ve asked you months ago, maybe on a night where you were scolding him for trying to drink away the post-transformation pain. Quite the contrary, really. Usually, during a full moon, he’d get more self-conscious, feel more like you deserve better, but the full moons have begun to prove to him that he will marry you. You’re always there no matter what, and you always will be. He knows that, and he wants to keep it that way.

He hears the bathroom door open, and he quickly shoves the box haphazardly into the drawer.

“What’re you doing?” You ask him suspiciously.

“Uh,” he grabs a random pair of long black socks. “Looking for these,” he excuses, turning to you as he holds up the socks for you to see. It’s then he notices you’re in your favorite matching black lace bra and thong, and he curses his blood for running hot and straight to his groin.

“Uh-huh,” you nod, still skeptical as you walk closer to him.

As you reach the closet and start to look for an outfit, he quickly closes the drawer to try to hide the box from you.

He rummages through his clothes, picking out a plain white dress shirt with a dark red cable-knit sweater that contrasts just enough to wear with the pair of jeans he already had on and his favorite sneakers, sporting his signature comfortable-but-intelligent, soft attire and just enough of his old house colors. He puts the clothes on the bed with a subtle tie and pulls his jumper over his head, leaving him bare. In the mirror, you can see his back muscles flex and tense as he pulls the dress shirt up over his shoulders and start to button it. You walk over to him, laying the skirt and top you chose next to his outfit and helping him button up his shirt.

“Let me help,” you smirk as you grab his shirt, looking up into his amber eyes innocently. You let your fingers trace over his muscles and is scars as you admire it all, never shying away from his flaws. When the shirt is buttoned, you grab the tie from the bed and toss it around his neck, grabbing the other end as it comes around and tugging his neck so he gets to a height where you can stand on your toes and kiss him passionately, biting and pulling on his lower lip as you pull away, releasing it softly as you lick your lips, looking into his pupil-blown eyes.

As casually as possible, you step back from him and grab your clothes. First your mini skirt, pulling it over your bum and purposely squeezing into it give Remus a show. You grab your semi-casual blouse and pull it on, then tucking the bottom hem into the skirt.

By this point Remus had his tie done and was pulling the sweater over his head, smoothing it down his chest. You grab your small wedges and wand before walking towards the door.

“Let’s go, Remmy,” you call to him as you walk into and down the hall, your hips naturally swaying with each step.

Behind you, when he sees your hips move like that, Remus growls under his breath, but quickly subdues it with a cough as he follows you, grabbing his own wand on the way out, failing to pretend he could get the image of your plump ass out of his head. You grab the gift-wrapped box for the party, and the two of you went into the front garden, just by the old, rickety front gate. Remus holds his arm out to you, and you take it, preparing yourself for the sickening feeling of apparation. Your feet are lifted off the ground as you swirl into a spaceless darkness, squeezing through time and space in a way that would be nauseating to anyone who didn’t do it several times a day.

It had been several hours since you and Remus had arrived at James and Lily’s house. You were in the kitchen with Lily, talking about what life is like, and how it changes once you marry and have children. You want that with Remus, and you had since before the two of you left Hogwarts. In Remus’ eyes, to your knowledge, he could never put that burden on someone for the rest of their lives. He didn’t want to risk passing his lycanthropy on to his children, who did nothing wrong, did nothing to deserve the condition, no matter how often you remind Remus that he didn’t do anything wrong, that he didn’t do anything to deserve the painful monthly transition. You wish you could make him see himself through your eyes, make him see how perfect he is. You wish you could make him see himself through his friends eyes, make him see how James, Sirius, and Peter adore him. You’ve confided in Lily about this before, and every time, she tells you how James tells her the same thing, wishing his friend could see how much he’s truly worth. The conversation dies down when you don’t respond, but just think about your boyfriend and how amazing he is. It upsets you to see his self-esteem so low.

Your mind shifts back to when you were getting ready, and how Remus touched you, how he kissed you. You feel your skin heat up and your insides churn just thinking about it. You know it’s only a few nights to the full moon, and those nights, Remus gets sexually needy and rough. It’s something you love from him. He’s usually a softer lover, and you admire him for that, but sometimes you need something more stimulating. That need is rare for you and strangely correlates perfectly with his own

You squeeze your thighs together, trying to find some friction, but you are unsatisfied. You leave the kitchens and find Remus in the living room with his friends. He’s sat back in the couch, almost zoned out. You go to walk towards him with a simple innocent smile on your face, but you’re stopped when you feel a small hand grab your own.

“Aunt Y/n!” You hear Harry call from behind you. You turn to him, giving him a big smile.

“Hi, Harry!” You exclaim. “Happy birthday!” “Thank you,” he says politely and hugs around your legs.

You chuckle and get an idea, a potentially dangerous idea. With your back towards Remus, you bend at your waist to lift Harry in your arms, but, as you hoped, your skirt rides up your hips, exposing just enough of your thong to Remus that you can feel his eyes burning into your back. You conceal your smirk with a big smile as you talk to Harry, “Where’s your mommy, huh?” Your knuckles nip around his nose playfully as you hold him in your arms, balanced on your hip as you walk into the kitchen with him still in your arms. Sweetly, he lays his head against your shoulder, and almost immediately falls asleep. Lily coos at her son when he she’s you with him.

“I don’t see how Remus isn’t dying to see you like this with his child,” she comments, kissing her sons head.

“I may bring it up to him again soon,” you comment. “I want him to know I truly want a life with him. But I’ll wait until a week or so after this full moon. I don’t want to aggravate him.”

Meanwhile, back in the living room, Remus looks over at Sirius once you’ve gone out of sight and ear-shot. “Fucking, damn-it,” he swears, unintentionally getting all of his friends attention. He blushes, trying to act like he didn’t just say that in a most aggravated tone.

“What is it?” James asks his friend, his eyebrow raised.

“I, uh —“ he starts, but is cut off.

“Can I tell them?” Sirius tries to, but fails to whisper to Remus. “Please?”

“Tell us what?”

“We’ll there’s no point hiding it now,” Remus sighs, giving Sirius at death glare. “You’ve gone and told them somethings up.”

“Great!” Sirius turns back to James and Peter. “He’s taking the jump.”

After a moment of confused silence, and Remus rolling his eyes, Peter speaks up. “The what?”

“The jump: he’s going to ask her!” Sirius explains, giddily happy.

“Finally!” James exclaims.

Remus blushes deeply, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s no point not to. She’s everything to me… and she’s proved time and time again that I’m everything to her. She’s the only person to ever have made me feel normal, worthy of love.”

James and Sirius start high-fiving excitedly.

“I mean, I already knew at this point that starting a family would be a part of this, but Merlin, seeing her with Harry like that just makes my heart want to explode.” Remus pulls a pillow off the couch and into his lap. “It’s turning me on, you know?..” He says under his breath. “Plus, I think she’s teasing me.”

“I’ve got this!” James says and stands up.

Sirius and Remus both grab his wrists, making him sit back down.

“Don’t you dare—“ Remus starts, but it’s too late. James sets his plan into motion.

“Harry!” James calls from the living room, giving Remus a wink.

Harry’s head shoots up off your shoulder at the sound of his father calling his name.

“We’ll see,” you smile to Lily, ending your conversation and turning out of the kitchen with Harry still in your arms. By the time you’ve reached the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, he’s wiggling so much that it’s difficult for you to keep hold of him. Again, you bend at the waist and place his little feet on the ground. Your blouse falling slightly and exposing your cleavage as you had secretly hoped. You stand up again, and watch Harry run over to his father and jump into his lap. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Remus push a pillow down onto his lap and cross his legs. You smirk to yourself and look at him, his eyes boring you a hungry look, and you decide that you have to use the bathroom, meaning you’d walk right by him. You walk across the living room, tucking a stand of hair behind your ear as you head to the bathroom in the next hall, passing the end of the couch that Remus is seated on. When you get close enough to him, he reaches over the arm of the couch and grabs your waist, the side opposite him. He spins you and pulls you so you’re sitting in his lap, and he slyly removes the pillow, making you land right on his cock. You squeal slightly on your way down, and when you feel his hot breath against your ear for the second time tonight, you can’t help but squirm in his lap, “accidentally” creating friction between the two of you.

Remus’ hands grab your hips and hold them still, holding you down against him.

“You feel that, babygirl?” He asks in a hushed voice so only you can hear him as he pushes his hips up from the couch, his hard member pressing into you. “You got me all hot and bothered in front of all of our friends. You’re going to have to fix it for me.” He nuzzles his nose into your hair, breathing hot on your neck, and you let out a whiney moan at his words. “I would take you in the bathroom now, but with what I’ll have to do to you, there won’t be enough space in the there.” His lips graze your neck, and he unexpectedly flattens his tongue against your skin, leaving it feeling like it’s boiling. He hums at the taste of your sweat. “And I want to be the only one to hear you screaming my name. You are mine, after all.” He leaves an open mouthed kiss on your shoulder, his tongue grazing the spot at he kisses it. “So, go get your purse. We’re leaving.” His teeth nip at your ear and he pinches your butt under your skirt as he pushes you off of him.

For a moment, you don’t move, too stunned to do anything, but to your dismay, and Remus’ impatience, his hand flattens against your lower back as he leans forward in his seat, pushing you in the direction of the kitchen. On your way stumbling into the kitchen to find your purse and say goodbye to your friends, you look over your shoulder back at the man you love. He leans closer still to his friends, saying something inaudible to you that makes them all smirk and chuckle. Blushing, you scurry over to your purse.

“Got her,” Remus smirks from the living room to his friends.

“I honestly didn’t know you had that in you, Moony,” James laughs.

“She does things to me.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” You hear Lily from behind you.

You turn to her, your purse in hand, and you pull her into a goodbye hug. “Remus wants us to go home,” you almost whisper.

She grabs your shoulders and pulls away from you, holding you in front of her. “Is it what I think it is?”

You smirk and look over her shoulder into the living room.

She pulls you into one more hug. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she tells you when she pulls away again. “Or anything James would do!”

Once Remus lays his eyes on you again after you’ve stepped back into the living room, he quickly stands, waiting for you as you walk over to him, and he takes your hand, pulling you away without any word to anyone.

“Bye, boys!” You call over your shoulder as your frustrated boyfriend pulls you out the front door. Your feet barely hit the garden when you’re lurching through space again, Remus disapperating from Godric’s Hollow with you on his arm. You feet hit the ground in the front garden of the home you and Remus share, and you’re instantly stumbling as he’s pulling you up the front step and into the house. He slams the door behind himself once you’ve both entered the house, locking it with a swish of his hand, as his other grabs your lower back and pulls you against him as he growls down at you with a matching look of hunger in his darkened irises.

You feel that he’s harder than he was just a moment ago when you were sat in his lap, and you could swear that you had long since soaked through your panties.

His hand not holding your back grabs your face as he pulls your lips to his in a harsh, passionate kiss. The hand that was on your back sliding down to just under your butt as he lifts you up. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist to help him support you, and your skirt bunches up to your waist, your thong pressing against his leather belt.

He walks forward, pushing your back against the door as his lips move from your lips to your neck, sucking and biting, effectively marking you as his own with the dark bruises he leaves behind.

You whine his name breathlessly at the feeling of his teeth, tongue, and lips all grazing and working at your neck. In hearing your name, Remus growls against your soft skin, biting down on it as he replaces your feet on the ground then pulls away, much to your displeasure. He walks backwards towards the couch, dragging you along with him by your hands. He sits down on the comfortable couch, his hands leaving yours and sliding down your sides and back towards your butt. As his hand rests on the top of your ass, he grabs the zipper of your skirt, pulling it down excruciatingly slow, but once he zipper is over the curve of your plump butt, he quickly employs the new margin of space available and shoves the skirt down your legs, letting it fall to the ground silently. Hastily, Remus’s hands grab at the back of your things, pulling them down and over to the sides of his own, making you straddle his lap. As he reconnects his lips to your own, one hand grabbing at the back of your blouse, the other cradling your face, you moan. You revel in the feeling of his plush lips for the first time this evening, being less caught up in passion where you can’t think, yet your senses are still crowded with longing. They work effortlessly against your mouth, his tongue pushing past your lips and exploring the area same as he would if he had never kissed you before, brushing over your lips, against your teeth, the inside of your cheeks, and the roof of your mouth before finally pressing his tongue down on yours, which had been begging his silently. As you two mix your mouths, you moan at the taste of him, the remainder of the one drink he had intoxicating you as if you were the one who had drank it.

You grind your hips down onto his jean-clad crotch, the denim rubbing perfectly through your soaked thong and against your aching core, a whine escaping your throat and into his mouth. Your hands slide under his sweater, then under his dress shirt, feeling his hard muscles under his warm, tan skin, littered with soft hills from scratches and wounds of the many previous full moons he’s had to endure.

Remus leans back, detaching his lips from yours for a moment only long enough to remove the red sweater before fervently reattaching himself. His hands hold you still against him, one keeping your hips down on his own, the other holding loosely tangled in your hair. He could leave his hand in your hair for an eternity, sexual or not. He loves playing with it, twirling it between his fingers when you lay your head in his lap on the couch while he reads; he knows you love head and back massages at night and how they put you to sleep in a mere minute. Your hair is soft and silky, easy to run his hands through without getting caught on any knots or tangles. He also know how much you love it when he grabs your hair by it’s roots, tugging enough for tension but not pain, or when he puts it into a make-shift pony tail when you’re going down on him.

Your soft lips leave the warmth of his mouth, pulling them away and down over his jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses. Your tongue brushes over his scruffy face with every kiss, tasting the salty sweat that has begun to seep from his pores the more you touch him. Trailing your lips down his neck, sucking soft marks into it, biting on his collar bone or shoulder as you pass it, your hands nimbly work at the buttons on his shirt, shaking from the excitement running through you, the continuous passion you hold for your boyfriend. Your mouth follows the buttons as the come undone down his chest, adjusting your position in his lap and on the couch to keep moving a few inches with each new free button as you kiss, lick, and suck at his supple skin.

When your tongue licks at the top of his faint happy trail, feeling his grip on you tighten, you kiss back up his chest, pushing the shirt to the sides to reveal his tones abs and pecks. Remus isn’t super muscular, he isn’t burly by any means, but he’s toned and has just enough muscles to look strong and soft at the same time. You run your fingers through the short chest hair that lightly strews across his chest as you kiss each of his scars, following them until they stop or disappear behind him. His scars are a story, they show how strong of a man he is, the man you love more than anything. His story has become your story, one you’ve loved since the beginning.

You reach back up to his neck with your lips, kiss and continue to mark up the length of it as you return your mouth to his. You lean in just enough to feel your lips brush together softly, but you pull back when Remus tries to connect them. You smirk as you place a single, hot kiss to his lips before getting off his lap completely, sitting on your heals, your body supported by your knees on the floor in front of him. You start you lips back at the top of his happy trail again, and he pushes his hips forward, leaning back farther into the couch for both of you to be more comfortable in the coming activity. Your mouth trails down to his waistline as your hands run up and down his thighs slowly. When you reach the line of his jeans against his waist, your hands slide up, slowly, towards his belt, squeezing his painfully hard erection through his clothes as you pass. Once the buckle is free, you pull back completely, sitting back and looking up at him with your innocent doe eyes as you pull the leather from the denim loops. Your hands find the button on his jeans, quickly popping it open and then carefully attaching to the zipper as you pull it down.

You hook your fingers into the waistband of his trousers and pull down, he lifts his butt from the couch cushion enough for you to slide the fabric over his butt. You only pull to to just past his upper thighs, leaning his legs covered but giving you comfortable access to his treasure. Your soft hands rub back up his legs and over the material of his boxer briefs, finding his length and giving it a firm squeeze at the base, skidding your hand back and forth just and inch or so as you kiss at the damp spot over the tip of his cock. You slowly wipe your tongue on the spot, giving him an unsatisfying amount of friction.

His hand in your hair yanks your head back with a delectable amount of force, lifting your mouth off of him and forcing you to look up at his as you moan from the tension. He leans forward in his seat, bending low enough for his lips to be by your ear, his hot breath fading over it as he speaks. “You don’t want to tease me anymore tonight, love,” he informs you. “I had already been planning on you not being able to walk for the rest of the week.” He pauses and licks a stripe up your neck before continuing. “But now you’ve got a whole other punishment coming your way.” His hand leaves your hair for just a moment as he cups your cheek softly, leaning back a bit and pulling himself from his underwear. Once his aching cock is free, his hand on your cheek slides back into your hair, forcing you down so your mouth is next to his radiating member before sitting back into the couch completely.

Obeying, your small hands wrap around his cock, and you lick a long, wet stripe up the thick, pulsing vain on the underside. The feeling of it throbbing against your tongue, and the taste of his pre-cum when you reach his tip is almost enough to make you cum there, without being touched. You moan against him, still teasing him, still driving him mad.

His hair in your hair pulls you up only slightly as his other hand grabs and slacks your jaw, forcing you to take his delicious cock into his mouth. “Stop,” he says sternly as he thrusts up into your mouth. “Teasing,” he thrusts again, making you gag as he hits the back of your throat, unprepared. His hand in your hair loosens and his other leaves your jaw, letting you recompose yourself before further coaxing you. “Come on, Princess,” he hums softly, pushing stray hairs out of your face. “Let me see you take my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours. I know you want to, I know your desperate for it. Take my cock in your mouth, and you’ll get it nice and rough later.”

You whine at his words, quickly wrapping one hand around the base of his cock, spitting over it before lowing your mouth onto him, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you rejoice in the feeling of his cock filling your mouth. You hum against him, pleased to be providing him with pleasure.

Remus starts grunting in time with your head and thrust up shallowly to the same rhythm. His hand drops from your hair when he thinks your ready, and they both grab the sides of your face as he fully fucks up into your mouth. Your hands flatten against his thighs, bracing yourself as you take him down your throat.

He’s grunting and groaning and praising your mouth until you feel him twitch in the back of your throat, before he roughly pulls your mouth off of him. He stands up quickly, shoving his pants the rest of the way down and taking his socks and shoes off with them, leaving them there as he pulls you up, kissing you once passionately, both of you moaning into the kiss.

His hand wraps around your wrist and he pulls you farther into your home and to your bedroom. He pushes you down on the edge of the bed before climbing on, straddling your legs with his knees on either side of your thighs as his hands wrap under your arms and pull you up higher on the bed so that your head rests in the pillows.

Remus’s calloused hands slide under the fabric of your top, pushing it up before grabbing the hem and forcing it over your head. He throws the shirt to the floor somewhere on the room, somewhere neither of you cared about right now. His mouth works down your neck, leaving more marks as he crosses over and down your chest, licking at the top of your breasts above your bra before biting harshly in the same spot. You moan out, loving the feeling of his teeth against you. His nibble hands slide under your arched back, making quick work of your bra as he snaps the band and releases the clasp. That is discarded in an equally irrelevant place as your shirt. As soon as your breasts are free, he leans in, sucking one of your nipples into your mouth harshly, letting his teeth graze over it and bit down ever-so slightly as his other hand cups your opposite mound, rolling and pulling that nipple through his fingers making you moan out his name.

His lips and hand switch sides for an equal moment before they continue down the valley of your chest and your soft stomach, leaving more marks still as he makes his way to your panty-line at an agonizingly slow pace. His fingers grip into the flesh on your sides as he sucks and licks his mark onto your tummy. You’re left trying to string word together to make a sentence, but it’s all incoherent as it just comes out as breathless pants.

You’re able to build your voice back when he just follows your panty-line across your tummy, avoiding the steaming apex of your legs that’s screaming for his attention. “Rem-“ you barely manage, and his lips slow against you as he looks up at you from almost between your legs. “Plea—“ but you can’t finish as you gasp out a breath when you feel his lips switch to your thighs.

“What was that?” he smirks into your leg?

“Ple—“ you try again, only for him to bite into the soft skin of your thigh.

“I need to hear the full word, babygirl,” he says, pulling away from one thigh and moving to the other.

“Please!” You force out, not letting him cut you off with his actions again.

At that, his mouth leave your thighs as he sits up, leaning over you enough to kiss you passionately, and you wrap your hands into his hair. “Good girl,” he smirks against your lips before pulling back again, positioning his face between your thighs while he sits on his knees, leaning forward. Without a warning, he presses his tongue over the wet fabric covering your mound. Me moans against you, feeling how you’ve soaked through your thong, and he can taste you. “Merlin, baby,” he hums into you, sucking you through your panties before pulling back. “You’re so wet, Y/n,” he teases as his fingers gently wrap under the waist line and begin to pull down your thong. “Who did that to you, hm?” He encourages you, throwing your thong off the bed before laying on his stomach between your legs, roughly gripping your thighs in his hands and pushing them up against your chest, giving him a beautiful view of your soaking cunt. He blows hot air over your sensitive core as he waits for you to answer.

“You, Remus! You made me that wet,” you plead for him. He happily obliges and dives in, licking his tongue up and down through your folds without warning. “Oh, fuck,” you curse out in a whine.

His tongue stills and flicks over your swollen clit several times as he rubs the tips of his fingers against your entrance, getting them ready for you. He stops licking as he begins to push his fingers into you slowly, his lips wrapping around your clit instead and sucking the bud into his mouth. His fingers only pushed in slowly until they reached a halt. He gives you zero adjustment time and starts pounding them in and out of your pussy, creating an obscene sound as the curl and twist within you.

You moan out at the sudden sensation, music to his ears as one hand finds this hair, wrapping into it and pulling. He moans into you at the tension you create and hearing your angelic voice do such sinful things. With your legs still pressed to your chest, you can barely reach the one hand into his hair, so the other reaches under your head, grabbing and pulling at the pillow.

He continues fucking his fingers into you at the fast pace, continuing to suck and lick your clit the same. You quickly become a moaning mess, and you’re almost embarrassed by the pornographic sounds you’re making. Your head turn to the side, and you bite into your arm to suppress the sounds. This doesn’t go unnoticed, and Remus pulls away from your center, his face slick with your arousal. His hand leaves the warmth of your walls, smacking down over your cunt and causing you to involuntarily jerk forward.

“Don’t be quiet,” he demands. “Let me hear you, darling. Let me hear the sounds only I can get from you, yeah?” He cocks an eyebrow at you and your mouth releases your arm, but as though he doesn’t trust you to cover it again, he pulls your hand from the pillow, and interlaces his fingers with yours as he dives back in, eating you like he hasn’t eaten in months.

He returns to your cunt at the same pace, but only picks up the speed from there, his fingers digging not you deeper, rougher as he pushes you towards the rapidly approaching edge. He knows your dangerously close, and he pulls the high from you as he moans into you, sending vibrations through you that tip you over the edge. You moan loudly, legs convulsing at the intense peak rushing through your muscles. He pulls your legs down over his shoulders so you’re more comfortable as he continues to work your cunt, you thinking he’s riding out your high. Only he doesn’t stop. He removes his fingers from your hole, but continues sucking on your clit. The sensitivity from the orgasm that just ripped through you puts you right back on the edge. Your hips start to buck and both your hands lace into his hair, gripping tight. The intensity of only being on the verge of your next orgasm has you crying in pleasure, your hands pushing against him as you try to move his face off of you.

Your hands quickly give up as he holds himself onto you, and when he starts shaking his head back and forth with his tongue pressed against you, your pushed over that second edge, your back contracting as your muscles force you to sit up, using his hair as an anchor. He moans into you as you pull his hair, and he slows down, carefully lapping up your juices before kissing back up your body to your lips.

He gives you a chaste kiss before he flips you over, pushing your face down into the bed. His hands hook over your hips, grabbing around them and pulling them up so your ass is in the air on perfect display for him. His hands leave your hips once they’re where he wants them, wrapping them around your wrists and pulling them back behind your back before wrapping one of his large hands over them both to keep them there. His other hand reaches between your legs, spreading them apart so he can comfortably stand on his knees behind you. After your legs were in position, he used the hand not restraining your wrists to grip his cock, rubbing it up against your core, getting it slick and ready for you, but still not entering you.

You moan at the feeling of his throbbing length pressing against you, so close, but not close enough. Your moan, having been a subconscious technique to get him to continue, is not a suitable attempt for him. His hand leaves his cock, still pressed against you as he holds his hips against your own, then smacks down on your ass, wordlessly commanding you to beg for him.

“Remus,” you whine, pushing yourself back against him, and his hand comes down on the opposite cheek. Not good enough. “Please!” Another smack. Still not good enough. “Remus, please!” You try combining the two previous pleas, but he spanks you again, and you know he wants to hear you say it. You know he won’t give you what you both crave until he hears you say it. “Please, Remus! Please, fuck me,” you cry out as his hand comes back down on you, only this time for fun, to make sure both of your cheeks are equally reddened. As you’re whining his name again, his hand leaves your ass and grips himself at the base, pushing into you to the hilt in a quick thrust, no warning.

“Good girl,” he groans from above you as you moan out at the feeling of him so perfectly stretching you. He stills only long enough to get out the two words and move your hair over your shoulder, letting him see the side of your face and the top of your back and shoulders. You don’t have much time to adjust before he pulls out, almost completely, and starts thrusting forward into you again at an agonizingly slow pace. His palm runs over your red cheeks, soothing and kneeling the skin under his hand while still holding your arms behind your back.

The perfect friction, the prefect way he fills you up and reaches every crevice within your walls has you softly moaning for him, but you need more. You start to push your hips back into him, meeting his thrusts in his rhythm but trying to get him to speed up all the same. “Rem,” you moan. “Faster. Please.”

His one hand releases your wrists, the other holding your hips against his as he wraps the first around your throat, pulling you up against him until your back is pressed to his chest. “You want me to pound you, huh, baby?” He breaths hot on your ear, his hips thrusting roughly up into you and hitting your g-spot dead center, causing you to cry out his name. “You’re so needy for my cock?” His teeth graze the shell of your ear as he thrusts again, another cry escaping your lips.

“Yes!” You call out to him. “Please, Remus. I need you.”

You say what he wants, but his reaction if the opposite for you. He pulls away from and out of you completely, pushing you back down onto the bed forcefully, and you bounce a little once you hit the bed. He turns you over again, having you face up as he kneels between your legs again, grabbing them from behind your knee and putting them over his shoulders as he realigns himself effortlessly and continues to pound into you.

The pornographic sounds you make further strive the hungry beast inside him, and he reaches down for you, draping his hand back over your throat and squeezing once more. He continues to hit the bullseye in you repeatedly, almost as if he’s trained his whole life just to please you to such an extent. His thrusts are so precise that you barely registered the build up to your rapidly approaching third orgasm.

“Rem,” you draw out his name, warning him, and he understands.

“Do it, baby,” he commands, and you let go of the force pressing violently against your gut.

You scream his name, your voice hoarse and throat sore as you whine and gasp while you come down, Remus working you through it the whole time.

“Good girl,” he praises you, dropping your legs from his shoulders as his hand leaves your neck and slides up. He cradles your cheek as he leans over you, kissing you passionately as his thrusts slow down. “You’re so beautiful, darling. Just absolutely perfect.”

Remus’ previous aggressive lust, turns into a loving lust, just wanting to be one with you, be a whole instead of two halves. There’s just as much passion as before, it’s just more apparent now without his hunger for you clouding it.

“Remmy,” you whine, too sensitive after three orgasms. You’re still soaking, but you can feel every ridge of his cock as he slides in and out of you. Remus lifts his head from where it was folded into the crook of your neck, looking deep in your eyes. “I can’t. It’s too much.” A tear falls from your eye and runs down your cheek, but he’s quick to catch it, kissing the wet spot it left and then your lips so softly you barely feel it.

“Help me finish, baby. I’m close,” he encourages you to hold on just a few moments more. “You can do it, Princess. You’re being such a good girl for me.”

You nod your head as you look up into his darkened, but soft, eyes. The way his mouth hangs open and his eyebrows furrow together, you can tell he is close. You moan his name as you pull his lips into another love-filled kiss, wrapping your legs tighter around his hips and your arms over his shoulders, pulling him deeper into you. You break from the kiss panting. “Cum in me,” you plea so softly you can barely hear it.

Remus’ hearing is strong enough to pick it up, and his rhythm falters for half a moment. “Really?” He asks, how close he is painfully evident on his face. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

His carnal need resurfaces, hitting into you harder, and you cry out every time. “You want me to cum in you, huh?” He growls into your ear, but he’s so close it breaks into a groan. “You want me to fill you with my cum, baby?”

You nod vigorously, not being able to form any words with the intense feeling burning in your core. He captures you lips in a kiss as he stills, buried deep inside your cunt and coating your inner walls with his hot ropes, his hips involuntarily jerking as he does. You’re sensitiveness, his words, and the feeling of him and his cum filling you to the brim push you over the fourth edge, and you crying out as your body convulses under him so much you would’ve folded in on yourself if his body weight wasn’t keeping you flat on the mattress.

He collapses on top of you as both your bodies give their last few tremors, both of you panting and sweaty, hair sticking to your faces. His arm extends towards the side table, looking for his wand. “Fuck,” he mutters, and you hum in question to his exclamation. “Our wands are still in the living room,” he kisses you softly, but with so much love. “You know, with our clothes.”

You giggle against his lips before he pushes himself off of you and goes into the ensuite to grab you a washcloth. Your affectionate urge to always be around him awakens and sends you to the bathroom, but when you stand from the bed, pain shoots down your sore legs and your knees give out. You’re left to gravity to fall to the floor with a small squeal and a soft thud.

The door to the bathroom quickly opens as he looks for the cause of the sudden noise, finding you on the floor in front of him. “What do you think you’re doing?” He chuckles.

“Following you,” you blush and look down at the carpet. You’ve always tried to subside your natural clinginess in fear that it will annoy Remus.

You heel hands wrapping under your arms and you’re hoisted off the floor. “You’re my lost puppy, aren’t you?” He teases, making you giggle. A sound he could listen to on repeat for the rest of his life, a sound he’s never planning on losing. He puts you down so your weak legs hand off the edge of the bed. “Would you wait here just a moment please, love?” He says, adoration filling his voice. He steps back into the bathroom and comes back with two washcloths, a warm on and a cold on. He uses the cold one first, wiping the sweat and left over make up off your face. A moment later you take the rag from him so you can wipe his sweaty forehead, too, but you gasp and whine in surprise as the warm cloth rubs between your legs. “I’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes and kisses you sweetly. You run your hands over his head, flattening his hair down as you kiss him back, never wanting to stop, and he finished cleaning the mess he had made of the two of you. “I’m going to take these and the other clothes to the laundry real quick, love,” he tells you before kissing your head and leaving the room.

You build all of your strength to get up and go to the closet in search of clean underwear for you both, stopping dead in your tracks when a poorly hidden velvet box in his drawer peaks at you from between the socks. You pick is up carefully and open the box, a ring perfect for you sat in the fold. You cup your hand over your mouth to hide any noise you might make, but your heart is in your throat as it bursts with love, and you couldn’t make a sound if you tried.

“Shit,” Remus curses behind you, having come back into the room silently. He rushes over to you and moves to take the box from your hands, but his hands stop, resting over yours as he looks at you staring at the ring, mesmerized. “You weren’t supposed to see that, yet,” he says and laughs softly, nervous of your reaction because your face is so blank, he can’t get a clue.

“Then… I’ll just pretend I didn’t,” you give him a small smile, but one that shows him your whole heart. You pull your hands back from his, leaving him to hold the box as you slip on your fresh panties and climb back into the bed. He looks to you, surprised you’re not questioning it, but your sat in the center of the bed with your arms held out to him and a goofy pout placed on your lips as your hands grab at the air.

He sighs happily, places the velvet box unhidden in his closet, and pulls on fresh boxers before climbing into your arms. Your fingers slide into his hair and scratch at his scalp as he lays his head on your belly.

After a moment of comfortable silence and his mind not settling, he lifts his head and looks up at you, seeing your eyes are closed. He calls your name softly. You hum, informing him you’re awake. Remus climbs further up the bed, laying on his side facing you to your left. His hand grazes your cheek as he pushes hair out of your face.

“I love you. I have never felt this much of one feeling before I met you. I’m so in love with you that it terrifies me, and I don’t know what to do. But you’ve changed me, you’ve made me a better man. I can’t imagine a future without you as my wife and with our kids running around. I never knew how to bring it up before,” he pauses a moment, trying to find the right words as he asks you the big question on a sudden limb. “I’ve just been to scared. I don’t know why, because you’ve never done anything but love and support me, and I couldn’t ask for better. I was with Sirius to find you the ring, and try to plan a romantic moment to ask you to marry me, I just didn’t want it to be so close to the full moon.”

You take a moment, considering everything he’s said and your chest swells with love and pride. “What about ‘James’?” You ask, being stuck on the one thing he said. When he pulls away from you completely and sits up, you open your eyes, startled. He’s looking at you with all the confusion in the world. “Oh my god!” You gasp. “That came out so wrong. I meant as a name! Merlin, the things you do to me — beyond amazing — exhaust me. I can’t speak correctly.” You let out a breathy laugh as you look for his reaction, a smile growing onto his face.

“You mean, like, a baby name?” He asks you.

You nod at him, smiling, and his shoulders relax as he lays next to you again.

“No, no,” he says after a moment. “I don’t want the product of my love for you to constantly remind me of my idiot best friend.”

“Okay, so ‘Sirius’ is also off the table,” you giggle.

“What about our parents names?” Remus asks as he turn to you, pulling you into him as his little spoon.

“So the product reminds us of our parents?”

He laughs at your rebuttal, and you smile. “Good point.” He presses his lips to your temple. “I guess we have time to figure it out.” He sighs in contempt as he buries his face in the back of your neck.

“For now,” you agree.

“So that’s a yes?” He picks his head up quickly to ask. “You’ll marry me?”

You turn in his arms, facing him and grabbing both his cheeks in your hands, purposely squishing his face a little. “Of course, you big oaf,” you laugh and kiss the love of your life.

#the wizarding world #wizarding world #Harry Potter #JK Rowling #the marauders #the marauders era #Marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #Remus Lupin x reader #Remus Lupin smut #moony #andrew garfield #Andrew Garfield remus lupin

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aeonmagnus · 3 years ago

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Happy 20th Anniversary Robots In Disguise!

This year, and today in particular, marks the 20-year anniversary of Transformers Robots in Disguise airing in the United States. This was the official English language dub of the Japanese show Transformers Car Robots, which aired in Japan the year before. This show and it’s accompanying toy line were a big shift in the Transformers brand and affected how things moved forward in the new millennium. It was also a big influence on me and this website in it’s early years, so both the brand and TFW2005 may not be what it is today without it.

We hope you will read on after the break to check out our celebration of Robots in Disguise on it’s 20th!

Intro

The following is not a comprehensive article on the show proper, but rather a trip down memory lane from my personal perspective. It was a period of change in my life, in the fandom, in the brand, and in the world – all happening at once. Robots in Disguise was smack dab in the middle of it all and I think that’s why it still resonates with me all these years later. For a deeper dive into the world of Robots In Disguise you can check RIDForever.info, a site I maintain just about RID and Car Robots. The 2021 updates are here, and the 2017 round of updates are here. I’d also suggest checking the TFWe issue all about RID over on the 2005 Boards. Now, onto today’s festivities…

The Show

RID, and yes I say RID as if it is the only RID. If you must reference that other RID show and it’s off-shoots, refer to it as RID 201x, thanks. 😊 RID aired during the Fox Kids programming block on a Saturday morning, with additional episodes set to air each weekday during the afternoon hours. Instead of stretching the show out over the course of 30+ weeks with only a new ep each weekend, they were going to blaze through it non-stop. By the end of the first week, we would have been 7 eps in. That however hit a big roadblock due to 9/11 just three days later. While some local markets did air the episodes, many larger city networks, and especially east coast markets, stuck with news coverage. Many of us did not catch the early episodes on TV the first go around. In addition, several of the episodes got pulled from TV due to depictions of buildings being destroyed and other similar visuals which understandably could upset children that just experienced 9/11. So right off the bat, the new millennium and new era of Transformers were dealing with a new reality.

The show, for those that don’t know – was a weird one-off in Transformers history. We had G1 and then the G2 remixes for a bit. Beast Wars came on the scene and ran all the way through 2000 with it’s successor – Beast Machines. During the Beast Wars era – Japan did a couple of their own Beast Wars shows, non-CGI extensions of what we saw in the US. Their market wasn’t quite ready for full CGI so they stuck with traditional anime. When Hasbro decided to continue Beast Wars into Beast Machines, Takara went a completely different way – a traditional animated show which brought back Autobots and “Decepticons”, mixing them in with the beasts. They focused the toys on a couple new and complex molds, then filled the rest of the line with repaints of previous toys. Old 2nd tier Beast Wars toys, G2 Laser Prime, and even some Generation 1 molds in the form of the Combaticons got new life as new characters in this show, capped with the biggest TF of them all at the time – a repainted G1 Fortress Maximus, now Brave Maximus. It was the prototype for what the Transformers brand did for years to come – repainting old toys into new characters. Universe, Classics, Botcon, and even some Generations runs used this method to give us some great toys in the 00s.

While there is a very complicated and long explanation for how every single Japanese show is one continuity, to someone casually starting with Car Robots it was a refresh, a new story, a new arrival on Earth. The Autobots vs the Predacons, and eventually the Combatrons/Decepticons. It was a hard cut from the last 5 years or so of CGI Beasts. Hand drawn traditional animation featuring vehicle Transformers. It wasn’t G1, but many of the folks who grew up with G1 were just getting out of college around this time. They were rediscovering their childhood love of Transformers through Beast Wars, flea market finds, raids on their parents’ attics and basements, and for the internet savvy – imports of Japanese reissues from Takara. It was a perfect storm of nostalgia; a return to Autobots and Decepticons was welcomed by kids and adults alike.

RID and TFW2005

In the years leading up to Car Robots, I was just getting into the internet, coding, design, some digital music, and all the possibility that came with it. Beast Wars, especially when it hit Season 2/3 and the inclusion of G1 lore, really got me focusing on Transformers again as a hobby. I eventually combined the two newfound hobbies into one and Transformer World 2005 was born. At no point did I ever think it would last 20+ years and take over my life in the way it did. I started the full version of TFW2005 around April 2000, with some starts and stops before that. That was right around when Car Robots started airing in Japan. Through the magic of 56k internet, I was able to connect with folks in Japan and get them to send me VHS tapes of Car Robots. Really nice, high-quality tapes too, I still have them hehe. To the younglings reading – try to picture this: no youtube, no video sharing. The concept of streaming anything did not exist yet. Napster and the eventual peer to peer stuff hadn’t fully kicked off. Plus, we were all viewing the internet on giant computers in our rooms at the speed of 1x on your phone. Less than 1 bar 3G mobile speeds today.

Yes, someone recorded episodes from TV to video tape over there, did that a couple weeks at a time, then physically mailed them across the world to me, who then got them on the internet. Can you imagine waiting weeks to watch an episode of TV the size of a twitter profile avatar? Crazy. Uploading a full episode to the internet was a big pain in the ass, not easily done. I decided to get a converter that allowed me to plug my VCR into the computer and encode the tape into digital format. From there, it was reduced using Microsoft’s WMV technology so that the episodes were about 5 MB each. 30 minute episodes at 5MB each. Dimensions – 176 x 144 pixels. 4k video today – 3840 x 2160 pixels. You can imagine that video looked like crap. But we didn’t care – we were blown away. Old school animation, vehicles, some cool Japanese anime vibes, it was what we as G1 fans kinda had in the back of our heads on what Transformers should be in a new era, and we were seeing it. Most of us had no clue what they were saying or what was going on. Also didn’t care. I still to this day think CR/RID is better like that.

So one of the first things TFW2005 did on the internet was provide these super small windows into Car Robots and what was going on in Japan. It helped get US fans hyped up for what Transformers could be. It got us wanting the toys, and importers bringing the Takara toy line over were moving serious product. It helped swing Hasbro, who was planning to return to Autobots and Decepticons again down the road, to move that schedule up. Instead of running Beast Machines until 2002 and then starting what we now know as the Unicron Trilogy, it was cut short. Robots in Disguise as a toy line and show came over in 2001, ran fast and hard for a year with non stop releases, got extended because it did so well, and then faded into the Universe line of repaints. The new millennium of Transformers was here and Robot In Disguise kicked it off with a bang.

Wrap Up

As we all continue with collecting Transformers now, regardless if you tagged into the fandom during G1, Beasties, the Unicron Trilogy, the Movies, or just yesterday – let’s take the time to give Car Robots and RID some props! It set the tone for what the new millennium of the brand would be. It gave us some toys ahead of their time. It solidified the repaint as an accepted thing in the hobby. And it gave us one crazy 39 episode run of TV that’s still a fun ride 20 years later.

For those that would like to learn more about RID and Car Robots – I still maintain a Robots in Disguise website that archives everything I have or came across. There is a lot there if you want to go on a tour of all the awesome Car Robots and Robots In Disguise era stuff. Check it out at RIDFOREVER.INFO! FIYAH!

Let us know what you think and remember from the good old days of RID on the 2005 Boards here!

Epilogue

If someone over there at Hasbro is reading – can someone please figure out who owns the rights to the show in the US market and then get it out on DVD in full, finally? Work all that funky licensing stuff out (if there is any) and get it done. The US has never had access to it via an official release. Maybe get it up on YouTube like G1? Something. Announcing plans for that before the end of 2021 would be a nice 20th anniversary tribute.

#Transformers #Transformers: Robots in Disguise #20th Anniversary #Robots in Disguise #Optimus Prime #Megatron #Car Robots #Transformers: Car Robots

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kassies-take · 4 years ago

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If You activated the Werewolf curse after saving Lena Luthor from an assassination attempt

A/n: A TVD and Supergirl crossover. This can be read as its own but for a greater understanding of the situation: Saving Kara

You: Hey Jess *looks at phone, walks past Jess's desk, doubles back*

Jess: *unconscious on the floor*

You: *rushes to Jess, checks pulse, sighs in relief* Mom! *rushes into Lena's office and pulls out collapsible knife*

Office: *trashed*

Lena: *chained to her chair*

You: *throws knife past assassin's head*

Assassin: *chuckles* oh ho. you must be the daughter. I suggest no sudden movements, while we are waiting for the whole *mocks* I need the access codes from Lena Luthor, can I make you a drink *pours whiskey into a cup*

Lena: (Y/n) it's okay I can handle it

Assassin: You should really listen to your mother.

You: you think she's going to give you the access codes chained to a chair.

Assassin: *sips* yeah. She's the monster here after all.

You: she's not a monster

Assassin: agree to disagree *throws glass at you*

You: *rolls out of the way, pulls belt out from loops, and extends to make a sword.*

Assassin: *pulls the knife from the wall* can I ask you a question. Are you trying to fit in someone else's shoe because something is missing here *swings knife around* oh I got it, there isn't any blood

You and Assassin: *fights*

Assassin: *gains the upper hand*

Lena: *breaks the chains*

You and Assassin: *gets distracted*

You: *power side kicks*

Assassin: *groans and clutched stomach*

You: *leg swipes*

Assassin: *falls on his neck and it snaps*

Lena: *stares at the dead body*

You: *runs to Lena* are you okay? How, how did you get out of that? *checks her body* are you okay? Mom? *creases eyebrows together, chokes, and groans*

Lena: (Y/n)

You: *kneels in pain* what is happening to me *groans, pants, and eyes turn gold*

Lena: *kneels and hugs you* it's going to be okay baby. Everything is going to be okay, I promise. *signals for Kara*

~~~~~

-Tower-

Superfriends: *sits around*

Kara: *wraps her arms around you*

You: *poker face*

Lena: (Y/n), triggered the werewolf curse

Jamie: the what curse?

Lena: *sighs, looks at J'onn and Brainy*

J'onn and Brainy: *nods*

Lena: the werewolf curse runs in our blood. It is triggered by taking the life of a human, intentionally or accidentally. Every full moon we involuntary and unwillingly transform into hostile wolves.

Lucas: we've seen you on full moons

Lena: I wear a moonlight ring, as long as I wear the ring I can control my transformations.

Liam: did you know? *looks at Kara*

Kara: when we considered having kids, Lena was reluctant. She told me then, we were always very careful so you guys wouldn't trigger it. Then Lucas killed one of the Cadmus agents 5 years ago and it didn't trigger it.

Lena: Because I had the ring and there was no way for you guys to trigger it, we kept it from you... I was scared.

Brainy: Kara's Kryptonian genetics is blocking the werewolf gene.

You: *quietly* That's why you didn't want us to get rid of our powers for Jeju

Liam & Lucas: and why you didn't want us to use our powers

Supercorp: *nods*

Lena: anger is a strong emotion among our kind.

Lucas: I just always assumed that was a Luthor thing.

Lena: Believe me I wouldn't be a surprise if it was a Luthor thing. My eyes turn gold whenever I am angry or scared.

You: How did we never notice before?

Lena: *smiles* you guys were always a lot more interested with your Kryptonian side than you were with the human side.

Liam: what about investors, shitty businessmen, and just downright awful people.

Lena: normally just look away and calm myself down.

You: are there any perks to being a werewolf

Lena: We have access to super speed, super strength, enhanced agility, durability, regenerative abilities, and enhance senses. These are all accessible after the curse is triggered, in human form and in wolf form where these powers are stronger.

You: I’m sorry there’s more of us?

Lena: when I was trying to figure out this wolf stuff more, I ran into a couple of packs on the east coast. Met my friend Hayley, she helped me understand more about myself and in return, I helped her with a wolf problem in Mystic Falls. I wanted out of the Supernatural World and Hayley gave me the only Moonlight Ring we knew of. Haven't been back since.

Nia: Says the girl who married an alien, has half-alien children, and a friend group that is 70% not human.

Jamie: Is this on the Luthor side?

Lena: Oh god no! Can you imagine what Lex would've done if this was in his genes.

Alex: I asked that question too. *proud mama smirk*

Lena: my grandfather was from New Orleans he had the gene, when he moved to Ireland he met my grandmother and the rest is history.

Kelly: How did you trigger the curse, again?

Lena: Veronica Sinclair always had this fancy yacht party, I was drunk and accidentally killed someone. Two weeks later every bone in my body contorted, broke reshaped itself to make the wolf skeleton.

You: *winces*

Lena: It lasted hours luckily I locked myself in the apartment I had. Went to the Luthor Manor to see if I could find anything. In Lionel's study, I found a letter from my mom. Explaining the whole thing to me. *takes off the ring and hands it to you*

You: mom but you'll...

Lena: I don't want you to go through that *smiles at you*

You: I don't want you to go through that again, we will do it together

Lena: *smiles and kisses your forehead* I'll work on finding someone to make you a moonlight ring.

You: El Mayarah

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thanksjro · 4 years ago

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More Than Meets the Eye #33: In Which I Write the Word ‘Quantum‘ 19 Times

Dang, I forgot what happened at the end of the last issue. It was pretty important, too, but I don’t have time to reread. Maybe the establishing shot can help me out?

Oh, that’s right, Rewind happened!

Everyone’s pretty jazzed that Rewind is here, non-exploded, and supposedly alive. Megatron carries this ridiculously small man over to a table, while Skids is busy admonishing Nightbeat for trying to put the pieces of this mystery together.

That’s one of the two first canonically, openly gay Transformers, Megatron. You bet your ass he’s important.

Nightbeat’s dragged Nautica over to look at that poster for Crosscut’s play they saw last issue. Together, they discover something interesting, and it’s not that Nightbeat’s chin has elongated to the point of absurdity. On this future ship, the play was completed and produced a mere few weeks after the initial launch of the Lost Light.

While this is going on, Rewind wakes up and asks Skids what the hell is going on. Skids, likely not wanting to poke at farm-fresh trauma, glosses over the fact that everyone on this ship was violently murdered, and that they found Rewind blacked out inside the hollowed torso of his brother-in-law.

…This is a dark story line.

You see, the joke here is that “Dark Cybertron” sucked major chrome.

Megatron reminds everyone that they’re still in grave danger every moment they stay aboard this ship, but Skids is more concerned with Rewind’s mental health. Which is sweet, but maybe not the thing to prioritize in such a precarious situation.

Rewind takes the fact that Megatron is an Autobot now pretty friggin’ well, as well as the introduction of gender into his species. That is, until Nightbeat, the king of social graces, saunters up to the scene to ask Rewind what the hell happened to the ship. He does get his answers, despite Rewind being horrified to the point of speechlessness.

Over at the hole in the wall, Nautica and Riptide are taking a gander at the quantum drums, which house the quantum foam for the quantum engines so quantum jumps can happen.

As Nautica explains the process by which quantum travel works, she realizes that the answer to what happened to everyone who disappeared was right in front of them this whole time.

Quantum, quantum, quantum- doesn’t even sound like a word anymore, does it?

The data slug Rewind made corroborates this theory, showing a series of events that definitely didn’t happen to the Lost Light we’ve been following throughout this story so far. The data slug contains this Rewind’s version of dead Rewind’s “Little Victories”, the travelogue that was never completed, where the question “are you happy?” revealed just how emotionally unhealthy most of the crew is. I’d like to imagine this Rewind’s film is called “Small Achievements”, or perhaps “Dear Fucking Lord, We’ve Been on this Trip for Three Hours and the Captain Has Been Killed by a Goddamned Soul-Vampire”, or maybe even “Where the FUCK is Our Therapist”.

The DJD came into the equation by way of someone having led them to the Lost Light. We get a flashback panel of the gorefest, in which Tarn appears to have learned how to fly, given the angle he’s coming from.

Because Rewind’s big thing in this series is being the guy who records stuff, the DJD take the opportunity to make some movies of their visit to the space yacht.

James, why do you keep getting Rewind involved with snuff films? I’m starting to get concerned.

Now, the thing about Rewind is that he’s almost always accompanied by his other half. Where is Chromedome, anyway?

He’s dead, that’s where.

Turns out, when you tell the DJD that you won’t do the thing they want you to do, they have a habit of doing nasty things in retaliation. Chromedome got stabbed in the friggin’ visor with his own finger needles, because Vos enjoys ironic deaths, I suppose. There’s some other stuff that’s implied to have happened, but we’ll get to that once we learn a little more about the DJD themselves.

While Rewind recounts the grisly tale of his husband’s demise, Riptide notes that the quantum foam has begun to spread at a remarkable rate. This is a bad thing, because that shit can and will explode, given half the chance, and this wreck is floating right above a potentially-inhabited planet.

Though I could have sworn we established that this planet was a Smartplanet, and therefore very much populated by students and staff. I don’t know. Maybe we conveniently forgot that, so we could make this a learning moment for Megatron.

Jiminy Christmas, Megs, do you even listen to yourself?

Skids, who has had a very long day of finding corpses and learning about quantum theory, snaps at Megatron, telling him that in order to actually be an Autobot, you have to have a little frickin’ compassion for those outside of your peer group.

Which is sort of contradictory to the Aequitas trials, the Killswitch debacle, the POW situation back on Cybertron, and whatever the fuck Prowl’s whole deal is, but maybe Skids is speaking about his own, personal relationship with being an Autobot. Hopefully so, otherwise he needs a class on critical thinking, STAT.

Never mind all of that though, because the problem just got a lot worse- the quantum foam has expanded to a point where any holes in the stuff are too small for the Rod Pod to get through. We’re going to have to get creative if we want to save the day.

Luckily, we’ve got a quantum duplicate of just about the tiniest little dude in the franchise here to do the job. Now we just need another, equally tiny little man, so the quantum drums can be shut off at the same time. Nautica commits more microaggressions, and this gives Getaway inspiration for a witty quip, which in turn gives Skids a brilliant idea.

The gang heads down to Brainstorm’s lab, to look for the mass displacement gun that was used for treating Ultra Magnus’s nanocon infestation back in the 2012 Annual. While they search, Nautica explains just why the hell the Lost Light disappeared in the first place. You see, quantum duplication acts on the Cain Instinct— it’s fine, as long as the duplicates don’t perceive each other. However, the moment contact is made, it says “oh man, guess I’m gonna have to end you” to one of the duplicates. The contact in this case happened when the Coffin Rodimus was brought aboard the ship.

Anything that wasn’t aboard the Lost Light at the point of the takeoff/explosion was never duplicated, and thus wasn’t erased from reality once shit started going to hell. This is why the Rod Pod is still around, and why the remaining cast are— well, the remaining cast.

While this conversation is going on, Nautica and Nightbeat uncover yet another dead body; it’s Brainstorm, and he’s a little underdressed.

…Someone run a paternity test, I think Cyclonus might be the father.

Also, Brainstorm’s a double agent.

Fucked up.

Getaway is furious that a Decepticon has been living on the same ship as him for the last six months, right under his proverbial nose. Even Megatron’s surprised, stating that Brainstorm isn’t usually who the recruiters aim for.

So, no mass displacement gun, and now they’re aware of the fact that there’s a traitor on the ship who’s had access to a LOT of weapon tech. It’s at this point that Megatron decides to stop lying by omission and tells everyone that he can mass-displace, since he used to turn into a handgun.

Smashcut to Megatron and Rewind floating out in space, the former now not much taller than the latter, as they traverse the web of quantum foam to get to the drums. Nautica instructs them from the Rod Pod. If this works, anything produced or connected to the quantum engine will be neutralized, and maybe we’ll even get the other Lost Light back! YAAAAAY!!!

Y’all really let this man go out there to fuckin’ kill himself for the greater good, didn’t you?

Rewind is honestly pretty chill with ceasing to be, seeing as he watched 200/+ people die today, including his long-time spouse.

Jesus. I’d say get him a therapist, but in order to do that, we’re going to have to wipe him off the map anyway.

Rewind asks Megatron if the Chromedome that isn’t his and his duplicate are still together. And I mean…

Luckily, Megatron has the good sense to lie.

With that, they flip the switches, and deactivate the drums.

And that’s a series wrap on Rewind! Congrats to Mr. James Roberts for the esteemed honor of burying the same gay twice!

Later on, everyone is back inside the Rod Pod, as their disappeared shipmates return from being nonexistent. Chromedome pops back in, and Skids is on him like a shark, telling him to go on the roof. Skids doesn’t even try to explain why. Which, fair. How the hell do you explain to someone that their dead husband’s quantum duplicate survived both a terrorist splinter cell attack, and the laws of quantum sci-fi bullshit crashing down on his tiny, tiny body, and that he’s right there on the roof waiting for them?

Welp, there goes the Chromedome/Dominus endgame. Shame, that.

Looks like Chromedome finally hit the threshold for having earned Roberts’ pity, and won’t be directly targeted by the plot for a little while. This isn’t something you see very often, so let’s really soak this in.

…Someone had to have told Rewind what happened to the other Rewind, right? I wonder what that conversation was like.

Back inside the ship, Blaster gets word that the Lost Light has reappeared. As they navigate towards it, Megatron requests that an encrypted call be made to Rodimus, to discuss the Brainstorm problem.

In the interim, Ravage is offered the opportunity to be a part of the crew, so he doesn’t have to keep skulking around in the shadows. We don’t get an answer from him, as our focus shifts over to Nightbeat and Nautica.

Nightbeaaaaaaaaaat, stop stating the themes of the comic verbatim! People are going to start thinking you’re a shonen anime protagonist!

Nightbeat’s somehow managed to keep ahold of the briefcase that they found on the other Lost Light. Unless Brainstorm’s boyfriend is in there, I don’t think this one was the work of Huey Lewis and the News’ hit single from the Back to the Future soundtrack.

Over on the Lost Light, specifically in Swerve’s, Brainstorm’s making his way through the crowd, briefcase held gentle like hamburger as he goes. He makes it to the bar, where Atomizer tells him he can’t have his briefcase in here. Brainstorm has what most would accept to be a healthy response to being told “no.”

It’s what I would do.

#transformers #jro #MTMTE #slaughterhouse #issue 33 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

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entertainment · 5 years ago

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Entertainment Spotlight: Nyambi Nyambi, The Good Fight

Nyambi Nyambi currently stars as investigator Jay DiPersia in The Good Fight, which is now in its fourth season on CBS All Access. Most notably known for his rendition of sarcastic café owner Samuel in Mike & Molly, Nyambi’s other tv credits include PBS’ Mercy Street, NBC’s Blindspot, and ABC’s American Koko. In theater, Nyambi has performed both on and off-broadway. He will next be seen in the new Billy Crystal movie Here Today. A comic book aficionado and avid gamer, he lent his voice to the Martian Manhunter in the animated features The Death of Superman and Reign of the Supermen. Nyambi is a first-generation Nigerian-American and serves alongside Danai Gurira on the board for Almasi Collaborative Arts, an organization dedicated to developing emerging African artists. Check it out:

You have worked in both the theatre and on screens. How does your work/preparation differ? Do you prefer one over the other?

I love being on set. When I was a ballplayer, I was known as a “gym rat”. Always on a basketball court working on my game. Nowadays, the set is my gym. I’m on set even on my days off because I love seeing the work all come together. However, my roots are in the theater, so the thrill of being on stage in front of a live audience is almost impossible to beat.

Before every scene or play, I write down a list of reminders from advice I’ve received over the years, words that have inspired me:

Be prepared to let go and play. I do a lot of research in my prep to build enough confidence to let go and play. When preparing for a play, the story is all there for the actors to unpack. What isn’t on the page but needed to tell the story will be imagined to further deepen those discoveries.

When preparing for episodic television, you make strong choices that move you based on what is on the latest version of that script. Still, you have to be flexible with what you’ve imagined because what is on the page the next week can contradict that. I remember when I first got Mike & Molly, I had created this elaborate backstory the same way I would for a play. Every script after that, I’d either discover something new about the character or something that contradicted what I previously imagined for the character. It became a fun game of “who am I this week?” I had to let go and play. So, the immigration episode on The Good Fight was another example of turning my personal imagined backstory on its head. That made the shock of the episode all the more real for me.

Can you take us through a typical day on the set of The Good Fight?

The moment I sit in the passenger seat of the van sent to pick me up is when my day on set begins. It’s my first opportunity to connect with another person, an opportunity to listen. That driver has usually been waiting thirty minutes to an hour before my pick-up time, so the least I could do is say, “thank you for waiting.” Then from there, the conversation goes where it wants to go. I’ve listened to amazing life stories, discovered new music, received invaluable advice on relationships, shared a mutual love for Star Trek: The Next Generation, and learned how to drum from a world-class drummer. All on my way to work.

When I arrive, I make a point to say hello to all I can as a PA ushers me to my dressing room. I write a couple of pages of continuous stream of consciousness on the day’s scenes before I head up to Hair & Make-up. This is where the most fun happens and where I will first see the actors I get to play with that day. The music and joy I experience in HMU, along with the physical transformation, make this an opportunity to let go of the outside world and drop into this blessing that we all get to share in together. We’re making great television. I love the men and women in that room. Once I’m camera ready, I’ll either say, “see you on the ice” or “see you on the court.”

I head back to my dressing room to get into wardrobe while warming up my voice and speech. Once dressed, I get approved by someone from the wardrobe department. Once approved, a PA will let me know when it’s time to go to set for rehearsal. When that time comes, I’ll greet the episode’s director and the other actors, and we’ll go through the scene for lines, then for blocking and then for the crew for marks. We then wait 10-15 minutes for cameras to get into position, which is more time for me to drop in through drawing or music. When they’re ready, we block it for cameras. Once it all looks good, they’ll say, “Last looks,” and hair, Make-up, and Wardrobe will make sure we look right. The actors then get into position before the director yells out, “ACTION!”

As actors, our energy sets the tone, and I think it’s important to be a joy on that set, not a concern.

If you could be any kind of superhero you wished, what would be your ideal superhero combination (title, power, public persona)?

Right now, my ideal superhero combination would be the ability to mutate on a cellular or molecular level. That would enable me to look like any person, but more importantly, to replicate the necessary physiology of an immune body to cure disease. Every-Man. When I’m not Every-Man, I’m a lab technician at Cedars Sinai Hospital.

What advice would you give to young Black actors looking to get their first break in the industry?

That’s why I say I have a thousand mentors. The men and women before you have lived it so they can tell it. Don’t be afraid to ask for their advice. The learning never stops. Keep going, keep growing, and ever-evolving. What’s for you will be yours, and what’s not for you, you celebrate the one it’s for and keep going, trusting your time will come. January 7, 2010, I was negative $300 in my bank account, but I was skipping down the street because a quote a mentor told me over and over again finally became my gospel truth: “This is but a season in my life, it’s not my life. And as the seasons change, so too will this.” The next day was my audition for Mike & Molly.

What’s your favorite comic/comic universe? Why?

My favorite comic depends on the mood I’m in. It can range from J Michael Straczynski’s Supreme Power, Frank Miller’s Batman Year One, or currently, Bitter Root by Chuck Brown, David F. Walker, & Sanford Greene. My favorite comic universe is Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Why, because they’re green. Seriously, the current IDW run is so good. I grew up loving Donatello because he may not have the leadership of a Leonardo, nor the brute strength of Raphael or the Zen charisma of a Michelangelo, but he does have that brain. Plus, a broomstick was the only item in the house that resembled any of their weapons.

What would be your dream role to play? Why?

My dream role would be connected to basketball in some way because it informed such a huge part of my life, playing through college. Otherwise, I’m fascinated by comic book artists such as Denys Cowan, who was one of the founders of Milestone Comics, a phenomenal universe created and owned by African Americans.

Thanks for taking the time, Nyambi! Head on over to Action to check out the rest of our #BlackExcellence365 Spotlights.

#entertainment spotlight #blackexcellence365 #nyambi nyambi #the good fight

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sserpente · 4 years ago

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A/N: I’m baaaack! This Imagine was requested by @procrastinatinglikeabitch, @fandom-rpblog, @sparxgal and three anons!

Words: 4003 Warnings: smut, more or less, angst and fluff

Your heart leaped into your throat when Loki entered the room, the empty space between you instantly filling with sexual tension and unspoken words when his blue eyes met yours. He gazed at you intently for a moment before making his way over to the large dining area where Thor was already sat drinking a huge pint.

Disappointed, though you could not put your finger on why, your own eyes wandered back to your phone. It was better this way, you kept reminding yourself. Loki was too much of a distraction. Sooner or later, you would get yourself in danger—or worse, you would get him in danger. Being a SHIELD agent, or a member of the Avengers or whatever the hell it was you were, you could not afford loving the God of Mischief. Who were you kidding? Breaking up with Loki, even though he had despised you calling him your boyfriend, had not changed your feelings for him. Your relationship had been but a secret, the adopted Stark girl attracted to mischief, malice and tricks.

When you closed your eyes, you could still feel his cool fingertips ghosting over your skin, leaving trails of goose bumps behind. You could still taste his soft lips on yours, stealing gentle but demanding kisses. You were the first one to understand him, he had said. But you had not been the first one to break his heart. He had snorted upon you asking to remain friends—and you had not properly spoken since. It was better this way. Well, in fact, you had been avoiding him, dismissing any looming conversation and keeping safe from the way your body reacted to his.

You knew that when your vision became blurry and your phone screen transformed into a bright dot before your eyes that you should excuse yourself and barricade yourself in your room to cry. Perhaps you had no right to mourn what you had had, despite it being an utter secret. You had hurt him. You had pushed him away for seemingly no reason. It was better this way.

You still remembered how you had met. The reason Loki had bothered to take a proper look at you. Your parents—your real parents—had been historians who specialised in the Viking Culture and Norse Mythology. They had named you after Sigyn, Loki’s wife; and when Tony Stark, the man who had adopted you after your parents died in a tragic accident, introduced you to the team—among them Loki, who had been brought back to Earth as punishment for his deeds to support Thor—his stunning blue eyes had, almost unnoticeably, widened.

You did not actually go by the name Sigyn anymore. It was too complicated to spell, let alone pronounce. But ever since then, Loki had been drawn to you and you… you had been drawn to him. You would never know what kinds of secrets your parents had kept from you or what meaning there was behind your name. There was magic between you—and now, you had ruined it.

For a few precious minutes, it was utterly quiet, with only your clock on the wall ticking away peacefully and letting you sulk pathetically, your face against the pillow. When someone knocked on your door, you elected to ignore it—right until the intruder simply let himself in.

“Go away!”

“Last time you were mesmerised by that trick.”

Your eyes widened. You turned over vigorously to find Stephen Strange standing before your bed, seemingly having floated right through the closed door. His red cape was flowing behind him like a red river. You waved back at it when it raised a corner to say hello.

“Stephen! Oh my God, when did you get back?” Growing up, you had loved sci-fi films and of course, Doctor Who. Travelling to different dimensions and universes wasn’t just exciting, it was breath-taking. Needless to say, you had soon taken a liking into the New York-based sorcerer. His magic was nothing compared to Loki’s but Stephen had quickly become one of your best friends—it was a notion Loki wasn’t particularly fond of. It would be even worse now that you both… no, in fact, it had just been you who had decided to break up for good.

“Just now. Are you gonna tell me why you’re acting like a teenager?”

“I… rough day. Tell me everything. Where did you go? Did you bring me a souvenir?” It would be a little unfair to use Stephen as a distraction from your misery. But you were desperate. And desperate times called for desperate measures.

Two and half hours later, Stephen became too hungry and thirsty to keep telling you his tales. You both made your way back to the kitchen to grab something to eat, hoping you would not run into Loki. He hated the ‘second-rate-wizard’ as was—and there was no reason to tickle a sleeping dragon.

Fortunately, you only ran into Tony instead. “I was looking for you,” he stated, opening a coke can he took from the fridge, “We have to talk. There has been another attack in New Jersey.”

“Another one? That’s the third one this month.”

“Yep. Thor believes it has something to do with the Chitauri… at least that’s what the damage looks like their weapons left behind. We are meeting in the living room in ten minutes.”

You sighed, nodding defeated. Another mission then. As long as you didn’t have to spend time with Loki…

“And you? What have you been up to lately?” Stephen asked as soon as Tony was gone.

“Nothing at all.” You replied. He raised an eyebrow.

“That answer came a little too fast. Are you sure everything is alright?”

“Hmm. Yes, of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

You gave him a fake smile—one which froze on your face when, a few minutes later, you strolled into the living room and spotted Loki already sitting in your favourite chair. You swallowed thickly, remembering this one time the Avengers had been out at a party somewhere in Hungary and Loki and you had stayed home. You had ended up on his lap naked after taking a shower, fucking right there and then on that bloody black leather armchair.

He remembered it too. The corners of his thin lips barely moved, his smirk invisible to everyone but you. After a few heartbeats, he acknowledged Stephen’s existence.

“Loki.” He said politely.

“Strange.” Loki snarled in response.

Tony took twenty minutes to explain the situation and fill you in on the details and then proposed the plan he had been working on with Thor and Bruce.

“…who will bypass the security system and get us inside.“ You were barely listening, only stealing quick and furtive glances at Loki. “In the meantime, (Y/N) and Loki give themselves access from the south side of the facility and make sure we’re not running into a trap or a handful of soldiers.” Your eyes widened.

“We can’t! I mean… why me and Loki?” Tony frowned.

“Why not? I hate to say this but Loki actually listens to you, besides, the two of you have always made a good team on missions. You help us get inside safely, we take care of the rest. And I don’t want you in the line of fire, (Y/N).”

Growling, you leaned back and crossed your arms before your chest. This was a bad idea. You certainly did not want to endanger anyone because you would be unable to concentrate in his presence. Not to mention that Loki was rather resentful. He would make use of the opportunity and try and lure you back in only to pounce once you felt safe enough, knowing exactly about the impact he made on your body and mind. Perhaps he even knew how much you still loved him. Either that… or would show you the cold shoulder.

“I can take care of myself, Tony.” And regardless what had happened between us, Loki would risk his life to save mine. You could tell by the way his eyebrows rose ever so slightly whenever he laid his eyes upon you. You were still on his mind then, as much as he was on yours.

Suddenly, Loki chuckled darkly, making you blush. You could tell he was oddly amused by this whole situation. Mischief was sparkling in his blue eyes when he looked up, seemingly unaffected by what was happening around him. Thor frowned. It was not unusual he had no clue what was going on.

You sighed once more. It was pointless to argue with him. Tony Stark had developed a strong protective instinct ever since he had adopted you. “Fine then. Can I go to sleep now, Dad?” You asked him scornfully. Tony nodded, overhearing your tone.

“I’ll have FRIDAY wake you up. We’re leaving before dawn.”

Flight. That was your first instinct. Stephen was already suspicious and you would do good to avoid any more nosey questions. If only you could throw yourself into Loki’s arms and show them just how much you loved working with him. You scoffed to yourself as you marched through the dark hallway.

“It seems you have already found yourself a new sorcerer.” Loki snarled with a start, appearing behind seemingly out of nowhere. You froze, your hand only inches away from your door knob.

“W-we’re just friends, Loki, you know that.” Your heart began to pound. Shit, after all, this was the first time you were properly conversing again after weeks. Your voice was shaky—and you were certain it did not go unnoticed. Loki knew you, your body and your reactions better than you did yourself.

“Yes,” he retorted mockingly. “I know that.” He paused. “It must be unbearably terrible then to work with me instead of him.”

“That’s not… you know that’s not why.” Loki snorted bitterly.

“Of course it isn’t. Tell me, have you been suffering since you ended our relationship? Have you been missing me, my touch… our conversations?” He would never say it, never out loud—never admit in how much pain he was. Instead, he decided to show you. “Do you miss this?”

Cornering you, he stepped closer until your back hit the cold wall, forcing you to lift your chin up to meet his blue eyes.

“Loki, stop. We ended this. We can’t…”

“We can. You need this as much as I do, do you not?” You could practically taste his breath on your lips by now. Loki inched even closer to you, pressing you against the wall. Any moment now, another Avenger could turn around the corner. It was dark but still…

“N-no…”

“No? Why are not pushing me away then?” You could feel his erection against your pubic bone. Loki bucked his hips, demonstrating you what you were missing out on. Your body was ablaze, every cell longing for his touch and the sweet release only he could give you.

“Please don’t…” Don’t what? Don’t continue? Don’t… stop?

“Hmm… that sounds awfully like this one time you begged me to play the evil villain capturing a young and innocent maiden… the perfect toy to make an even more perfect little pleasure slave.” He purred.

Your walls clenched upon his seductive words. Unceremoniously, and ignoring your half-hearted protests, he slid his hands under your thighs and lifted you up so you were trapped between his strong body and the wall, your heated centre resting snugly against his crotch. A moan escaped your lips when he rubbed himself against your lips, his forehead coming to rest against yours.

Loki knew exactly what buttons to press. Biting your lower lip, you stifled another moan when he cupped your left breast and squeezed it lightly, applying just enough pressure to turn you to putty beneath his touches all the while his other hand wrapped around your threat to remind you, in the most seductive and delicious way, who was in charge. Every blissful thrust of his against your most intimate body part, albeit still clothed, drove you closer and closer to orgasm. If he kept going like this… he would make you come undone for him right here in this hallway. God, where there any cameras nearby? Tony would get a heart attack if he decided to view the footage tomorrow…

But you did not get a chance to protest. Loki’s lips came crushing down on yours, capturing you for a passionate kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting you until you gave in and dug your fingernails into his shoulders. Faster and faster, he kept rocking against you, desperate, not only to bring you relief but also to quench his own thirst for a numbing peak of lust.

You wanted, no, needed to feel him without clothes, needed to feel him deep inside of you… “Loki…” You whispered. “Please…”

He shushed you in response, kissing you once more to shut you up. His breathing quickened as he picked up speed, thrusting against you and pampering your sweet nub of pleasure through the disturbing layers of your clothing until you burst into millions of tiny shards, pleasure rippling through you like lightning bolts. Your walls clenched around nothing as you came, soaking your already wet knickers. Panting, you buried your face in his neck, his raven hair tickling your cheek as Loki followed you suit and stilled as his orgasm grabbed a hold of him, shutting down and heightening his senses all at the same time. You could feel him twitching against you, his warm seed, instead of coating your tight walls, staining his leather trousers.

For a few heartbeats, you simply leaned there against the wall, breathing in each other’s presence.

“I am returning to Asgard.” You suddenly heard him say softly. Your head shot up in surprise and shock.

“What? You’re leaving?” He nodded weakly.

“Tomorrow night.”

“You can’t… you can’t just leave m-… What about Odin, what about Thor… what about your punishment?”

Loki scoffed. “My so-called ‘punishment’ ended over two months ago. I stayed because of you. But now, with nothing holding me here… I see no point in spending any more time among a group of meagre mortals who all desperately wait for the day I will not return from a mission.”

“Loki…” You wanted to tell him how this was not true, wanted to tell him that there was something holding him here on Earth. With trembling fingers, you reached up to cup his face. Loki moved back as if stung by an adder. You almost landed on the floor when he let go of your thighs.

“What do I need to do to stop you?”

Back to Asgard. It was in this moment that you realised that you had made a huge mistake with pushing him away from you like that out of worry for what your future might look like; realised the moment his blue eyes full of hurt and longing met yours that you loved him so much you could never possibly imagine a life without him anymore. You only feared that by now… it was too late and Loki had shut you out for good.

“Nothing,” he spat. “Not anymore. This is goodbye, (Y/N).” I just needed to feel and taste you one last time, he, unbeknownst to you, added silently.

You sank to the floor, sobbing, long after he had left, spending what was left of the short night crying yourself to sleep and mourning the loss, probably of the love of your life, which was entirely your fault.

You did not want him to leave. Being apart from Loki within the Avengers’ compound was hard as was… how would it feel once he was back on Asgard, lightyears away from you? What if he found a beautiful princess from another realm who would marry him? What if he forgot you?

Needless to say, you were unrested the next morning, your eyes swollen from your endless streams of tears. You did not join the others in the kitchen for breakfast, instead, sulked about in your room until they were all ready to leave.

How would you ever survive this mission, knowing that after, you would never see him again? What could you possibly say to him to make him stay? Loki had made it very clear to you last night. There was nothing holding him here anymore. He had shut you out just like you had shut him out, kicked him when he was already on the ground.

The only one to blame was you… and you wished for nothing more than to mend his broken heart. Tearing up yet again, you suited up and boarded the helicarrier. The journey would take you to Thailand, to a “secret” facility delivering weapons and armour of alien origins to a few thugs in New Jersey.

No… you would fix this. You would win him back. Loki was positively the best thing that had ever happened to you. You had been naïve, no, stupid to end the relationship because it might distract you from saving the bloody world. There was no world without Loki, was there?

Like the last couple of days, he was avoiding your gaze when you approached him standing next to Thor, observing the rest of the Avengers preparing everything like they were getting ready for a camping trip.

Finally, his blue eyes met yours—and for just the fraction of a second, longing flashed in them.

You looked away quickly when Tony noticed, blushing furiously. But… yes. That was exactly the problem. You kept hiding him, repudiating him. Your heart skipped a beat. Even when you had been together, you had, painstakingly so, kept him a secret out of fear of what the Avengers might say or do to separate you. Truth was, no one would ever be able to separate you from Loki anymore—no one but Loki himself.

Before you could stop yourself and reconsider what you were about to say, you took a deep breath and clenched your fists all the while marching straight towards the God of Mischief. Loki frowned in a confused manner.

“I have something to tell you guys.” You said loudly—loudly enough for everyone to stop doing whatever they were doing and face you to listen curiously. Loki’s frown deepened.

“Loki and I…” You paused. Loki and I are in a relationship? No. That was not powerful enough. “I love him.”

“Huh? Love him how? Like you love nachos and cheese or like playing house?” Bucky commented unimpressed. Beside him, Tony froze. Loki’s lips parted in utter surprise. You had never caught him off guard like this before.

“What did you just say?!” Your adoptive father finally snapped, earning him a reproachful look from Doctor Strange—who looked equally displeased. You couldn’t care less.

“I said I love Loki.” To your left, Thor began to grin.

“So that’s why you decided to stay with us, brother,” He stated, patting him on the shoulder. “You fell in love!”

“I did not fall in love.” He spat. His soft gaze when his blue eyes met yours, however, spoke a different story. You couldn’t help it, giving in to the urge to be close to him, comfort him, kiss him. So you did. You practically jumped into his arms, digging your nails into his armour and kissed him senseless. It took him only a heartbeat to reciprocate the kiss and wrap you in his arms. Behind you, Tony was about to explode, if such a thing was possible.

“What have you done to her, Reindeer Games? What kind of spell is this?”

“I’m afraid it’s not a spell, Stark.” Stephen tossed in—still displeased but somewhat… amused. The rest of the Avengers appeared to be equally shocked. Well… that was their problem now. Even though there were a lot of things still unsaid between you two, Loki would be yours again; and you would never ever hurt him again like this.

“Okay, stop it. Stop it now! (Y/N), have you lost your mind? This is Loki.”

Eventually, you broke away from him, if anything to catch your breath. Loki was panting too, still not quite believing what you had just done. He did not, however, pull away from you. Quite on the contrary—he held you close as if he was worried Tony or one of the others would snatch you away from him.

“You don’t really know him, Tony.”

“I don’t know him? I don’t know him, (Y/N)?! This man brought an alien army to New York and killed innocent people!”

“That’s not how it happened and you know it.” You spat sharply, unwilling to mention Thanos’ name.

“I forbid it.”

“Forbid it? You can’t forbid it.”

“I can, you’re my daughter!”

“That’s not what it says on the adoption papers. I am a grown up woman, Tony. I can make my own decisions.”

It was Steve who stopped the Ironman from lunging at Loki without even wearing his suit.

“What does it look like back there?” Steve’s voice came through the waterproof earpiece you were wearing.

“We’re facing a cliff.” You replied matter-of-factly.

“Is there water down there?”

“Yes. Deep enough for a ship to pass through and deliver deadly ammunition.”

Tony might have hated would he had had to say about you but Loki but you were indeed a very good team, even more so now that… you smiled at him when he reached for your hand to pull you back into him so would not accidentally fall off the cliff.

“There is a… well, it looks like a cave. It might be what we’re looking for. Do you reckon that’s where they are storing the weapons?” You asked, turning to Loki.

He nodded. “Possibly.”

“And do you think there is a safe way down?”

“Of course there is a way down.”

“You teleport us?”

Loki grinned—maliciously. “You do recall how I told you back on the helicarrier that this barrier we saw on Stark’s digital map will not allow any form of teleportation? Given that I no longer have the Tesseract at hand…”

You raised an eyebrow and suppressed a grin—and the urge to just kiss him again and have him make love to you there and then.

“So?” Ignoring the fact he had made a subtle suggestion the space stone be returned to him, you looked at him, expecting the worst. He did not disappoint.

“We jump.” He stated, seemingly unaffected. Your eyes widened.

“What?!”

This time, he laughed. It was honest, blithe—and it warmed your heart. This man… is yours, a happy voice in your head whispered.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, reaching for your hand. You took it with a deep breath and nodded.

“I do.”

Loki’s smile was still genuine when he took your hand and squeezed it gently.

“Together.” You whispered. Next thing you knew you had your breath taken away as you fell, holding on to the God of Mischief for dear life. The moment you had to let go was the moment you broke through the water surface effortlessly, sinking deeper and deeper. Surprisingly, it had barely hurt, still, the sudden darkness and masses of water around you put your body on alert. Resisting the urge to take a deep breath, you ripped open your eyes.

Loki was grinning at you smugly even though you could barely register it due to the saltwater, instantly making you feel safer. He’d never let you drown. Your eyes were already burning. Quickly, you closed them again, only to feel him wrapping you in his embrace and pulling you close to ensure you made it back to the surface safely.

And before you even knew it, he captured your lips for a passionate kiss underwater. Loki became your oxygen. But no, you corrected yourself. In a way, he always had been. And perhaps… just like in the Myths… you would become his wife and he would take you to Asgard with him.

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

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heynikkiyousofine · 3 years ago

Text

Inukag Week Day 3

Promise

Okay guys, this is my first try at InuKag week, as I’ve always loved it each year before. Enjoy my story for Day 3: Promise! @inukag-week

<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/31995838">InuKag Week 2021 Day 3 Promise</a> (5135 words) by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/heynikkiyousofine">heynikkiyousofine</a> Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/InuYasha%20-%20A%20Feudal%20Fairy%20Tale">InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale</a> Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/InuYasha Characters: InuYasha (InuYasha), Higurashi Kagome, Kaede (InuYasha), Miroku (InuYasha), Sango (InuYasha) Additional Tags: InuKag Week 2021 Summary: Inukag work for Day 3, hope you enjoy!

Inuyasha sat high in the tree, eyes closed, relaxing against the trunk, his ears flickering every few seconds, listening to the encouraging words of the monk below. He knew his Kagome could do it, she just had to believe it herself. They had been traveling for almost three seasons now and she grew more powerful every time they went into battle. As much as he hated to admit it, these sessions with Miroku were helping her access and channel her spiritual powers every time she faced a new danger. He would still protect her with his life no matter what, he promised himself that.

“Kagome, try one more time. Close your eyes, focus on expanding your barrier to cover both of us. Deep breaths.” Miroku spoke softly, as if he was any louder, he might discourage her.

“Okay, I can do this.” She said to herself, knowing one and/or both men were listening and watching. She felt that spark of power, the pure warmth expanding from her soul, brushing softly against her skin and covering her entire body. She could feel her skin buzzing with barrier slowly being pushed out from her body, as if it wanted to protect the precious things inside.

“Great, take a breath again, deep breath in, and when you exhale, push the barrier farther. You’re doing great.”

Sweat starting to form on her brow, she did her best to breath normally and push her barrier out. Kagome heard Miroku’s gasp and quickly opened her eyes. Around her, him, the tree where Inuyasha sat and a few more, were enveloped in her barrier. She squealed and laughed, catching her gaze with Inuyasha, who smiled slightly in return. “That’s my girl.” Inuyasha thought, knowing he could never actually tell her to her face without facing the teasing of Miroku or the knowing smile from Sango. Hearing Kagome gasp like she was in pain, he was instantly jumping from the tree to her side.

“Kagome!” Both men shouted.

Falling to her knees, with Miroku on her right, catching her arm, Inuyasha, right in front crouching, holding her left hand, Kagome was breathing extremely fast, her heart pounding, feeling like she had ran for hours. “I think I might have overdone it.” She admitted sheepishly, cheeks rapidly flushing, realizing Inuyasha was holding her hand.

“While you did a great job Kagome, I think it might be time to rest for the evening and we can continue training in a day or so, after some rest. We are only about a day’s walk back to Kaede’s home as well. I understand you need to restock on supplies.” Miroku spoke reassuringly.

While nodding her head, Kagome turned her eyes toward Inuyasha’s and softly smiled. Grunting, he spoke. “Miroku’s right. You can get some rest. You shouldn’t over do it.” Slightly scolding her, while also being gentle, he helped her up to her feet, hiding the fear in his eyes as an unwelcoming thought came about.

“I’m okay. Let’s go get dinner started. I’m sure Sango is waiting for us.” Kagome sighed.

As they headed back to their make shift camp for the night, the spot becoming more common to stop at when they traveled, Kagome couldn’t help but feel suddenly exhausted, like all her energy was being drained for her. Tripping over her feet, she felt clawed hands catch her upper shoulders and suddenly swing her arms up around his neck, so she was on his back. Smiling softly, she laid her head on his shoulders and whispered a thanks. Feeling his hands tighten around her legs, she knew he heard her.

Miroku spoke up suddenly, “Do you feel that?” Turning to his left, then his right, past the couple, he felt like his energy was trying to be drained from him, towards an evil aura. Inuyasha looked at him questionably, stopping as well, with Kagome lifting her head to look at him as well. The feeling vanished suddenly, as if it was caught doing something it shouldn’t, and Miroku shook his head, sighing softly, “Never mind, I thought I felt an evil presence.”

“That line only works in a village, when you just so happen to spot a well off house, Monk.” Inuyasha scoffed. “Let’s go, I want ramen and I don’t want Shippo to think he can have mine.”

Later that evening, after dinner was cleaned up, everyone got settled into their sleeping arrangements, Sango eyeballing Miroku, making sure there was plenty of space between them, Kagome felt even more exhausted and sore, wondering if she had pushed herself too hard today. “I think I’m going to refill my water and stretch my legs,” getting up and gathering her bow and arrows. Standing up as well, Inuyasha stated, “I’m coming with you.”

“I’m okay, the stream is right there. I’ve got my weapon just in case.”

“I’m still coming with you.” He replied gruffly, walking closer, “I have to ask you something.” He added softly.

Smiling brightly, she nodded her head and turned toward the stream with her empty bottle. Miroku and Sango watched them leave, exchanging questioning looks. As they walked quietly over, kneeling down, she felt him sit down beside her. After filling it, she screwed the cap on her bottle, Kagome looked up at the sky, it’s stars shining so brightly, smiling at how the stars just never seem to be as bright in her time.

“Kagome?”

Turning her head, she locked eyes with Inuyasha, gasping softly, she saw so many emotions come across his face. He never seemed to be this troubled or want to talk. “Yes?”

“Can you promise me something? And in return, I will promise you something?”

“Of course, what is it? What is troubling you so much?” Using her right hand, she took ahold of his.

A slight blush forming on his cheeks, he swallowed quickly, knowing if he didn’t spit the words out, he wouldn’t ever and he needed to know this. “First, will you promise to be more careful with your powers? I know today, you made progress, but you, uh, worried me there for a second. I mean, I knew you would be fine, but I couldn’t but help, uh, but think if there was danger around, someone could actually hurt you. Not that I would let them. Uh, I mean, my promise is-“

“Inuyasha.” Without realizing he was looking at their hands, he lifted his head to clash his golden eyes to the brightest, blue eyes, that you could get lost in. Kagome, smiling and softly spoke, “You’re rambling. Take a breath. Start over for me.”

Feeling much more calm than before, he squeezed her hand in a silent thank you, began to speak again. “Kagome, you are getting stronger. You can fight really well. I just want, no, I need you to promise me, that you won’t over do it, and end up hurting yourself again. That you will, uh, let me protect you.”

With a matching blush, Kagome nodded, “Oh Inuyasha, I promise. I want to stay by your side.”

“I will protect you with my life, Kagome. I promise you that.”

“Can I ask you something, Inuyasha?”

Nodding in agreement, he squeezed her hand again, in encouragement, noticing her sudden nervousness.

“After everything is said and done with Naraku, will you let me stay by your side?”

Silence.

“I mean, of course, I know you have other obligations and such, but you and Shippo, Sango, Miroku and Kaede have become so much more than friends to me and-“ she rambled on, eyes shutting tight, feeling insecure, like she said the wrong thing, letting her thoughts get away with her.

“Kagome.”

Opening her eyes, she saw the one thing she never thought to see reflected back in his eyes, love. “Kagome, I want us to stay together. If you want, I, uh, want to build us a hut. I want you to stay by my side.”

Laughing, Kagome jumped into his arms, giving him the tightest hug she could imagine, tears forming in her eyes. Burying her face in his fire rat, feeling his arms wrap around her, she nodded and enthusiastically repeated yes, over and over.

Chucking, Inuyasha, squeezed her, with a smile on his face. “Okay, now that that is settled, let’s get some rest, so we can make it back to your time tomorrow evening. You talked about another one of your exam demons you have to fight. We can talk more later.”

Giggling softly, she agreed and they headed back to camp, not even realizing their friends were laying, smiling, having heard most of the conversation.

The next morning, after breakfast and packing up their stuff, they began to travel back toward the village. Inuyasha up front, with Shippo on his shoulder, babbling on about the latest toy he couldn’t wait to play with, Miroku nodding along, beside him. A few paces back, Kagome and Sango followed with Kiara in Sango’s arms, napping slightly.

“You look fairly happy this morning Kagome.”

“I am. Inuyasha and I had a talk last night that cleared some things up, made a promise to each other. My heart just seems really happy today.” Kagome responded, a smile forming on her face.

Sango laughed and hugged, causing both girls to laugh louder, making the men up front, turn around and stare at them with questionable looks.

“It’s nothing guys! Kagome and I are having girl talk.”

Hearing them mumble and turn back around, Kagome sighed happily. She wondered if when she went home, she could go get a few extra things for the group, just because. Before she could think any further, she felt a wave of foreboding wash over her, causing her to stop and turn around, expecting to find something behind her. It was a like a pull towards the campsite they were at the previous night.

“What is it?” Sango asked stepping up beside her, stroking Kiara’s fur.

“I don’t know, it’s this weird pull, like something is calling me.”

“Come on! We haven’t got all day!” Inuyasha yelled at them from a little ways in front, the men not stopping to realize the girls felt something. As soon as Kagome turned to tell him what she was feeling, it disappeared, as if being caught, like a child sneaking a cookie before dinner. “It’s gone” she whispered to Sango, shrugging.

“If it comes back, we’ll check it out. Let’s get back to Kaede.” Nodding in agreement, they jogged to hurry up with the boys.

As dusk neared, they came walking towards Kaede’s hut, seeing her pull her door mat aside, welcome them. “Hello ye! I was wondering if ye all were arriving back soon. Come inside, I have just finished a pot of stew.” Thanking her as they walked inside, Inuyasha giving a nod in thanks for once, Kagome felt a light breeze, and slightly shivered, thinking about the weird feeling from earlier. Brushing it off, thinking it as nerves for her upcoming test she had been trying to study for at lunch, she followed everyone inside.

Once dinner was finished, everyone sat around the fire, speaking of the few demons they had slain, gaining two more jewel shards recently. Kaede asked about Naraku and of any whereabout, they told her that hadn’t seen or heard any hide of him since Mount Hakurei collapsed, that they came back to stock up on supplies, and hopefully go on another search in a few days, after Kagome returned. Shippo and Kiara curled softly near the fire, Shippo snoring softly.

The uneasy feeling from before washed over Kagome again, gasping looked toward the door.

“Something doesn’t feel right.” Miroku spoke and catching everyone’s attention.

“Kagome, are you feeling that weird sensation from earlier again?” Sango asked, touching her shoulder softly, nothing Kagome looked a little pale.

“What feeling? Why didn’t you say anything Kagome? What’s going on?” Inuyasha asked, voice growing louder and louder, staring Kiara and Shippo awake.

Before she could respond, Miroku started to speak, “Kagome, is this feeling, like something that is pulling at you, pulling at your soul in a direction, also a feeling of something bad and uneasy?”

Nodding, Kagome agreed quietly, “it started this morning, but I haven’t felt it since before lunch.”

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Inuyasha asked again, crouching next to Kagome, trying to catch her eyes.

Looking down, feeling suddenly tired, Kagome started to speak, when everyone gasped around her. She looked up at their faces, she saw expressions of seriousness, confusions and astonishment. Seeing her hands out of the corner of her eyes, she realized she was glowing! What was going on?

“What the fuck?” Inuyasha angrily asked, getting to his feet turning towards the door quickly. “Something is coming.”

Jumping up, Miroku and Kaede applied sutras to the door panels, casting a barrier around the hut. Kagome immediately stopped glowing, feeling a little bit more energized, take a deep breath.

“Child, I think somebody is trying to steal your soul.” Kaede stated.

“Could it be Kikyo?” Sango asked quietly, gathering Kagome’s trembling hands in hers, knowing she needed to get ready for a battle.

Hearing Inuyasha growl loudly, swearing under his breath, Kaede shushed him and turned to the young ladies, both with frightened looks on their face. “No, I cannot feel her presence here. This is a far more pronounced evil, someone who has taken many souls.”

“I felt this feeling yesterday, but I think because I am more experienced in my spiritual powers, they couldn’t take mine. Kagome, I think, whoever it is, is after your powers and your pure soul.”

Feeling like she was about to faint, face going pale, she felt a clawed hand on her shoulder. Turning slowly, she locked eyes with hard, determine gold ones, hearing the words from his mouth, “I promised to protect you with my life.” Nodding in agreement, she closed her eyes and took a deep breathe, trying to steady herself again.

Feeling soft paws other outstretched legs, she opened her eyes to see Shippo looking at her with a worrisome expression, “Are you alright Gome?”

“Yes, Shippo, I’m okay. So what do we do now? I can’t stay in this hut forever.” Kagome asked out loud.

Before anyone could respond a loud, shrill scream came from outside, causing everyone to stop and stare at the sutra covered doorway.

“Stay here.” Inuyasha walked towards the door, turning around, “I’ll check it out.”

“Wait, Inuyasha, if you-“ Miroku started to yell. As Inuyasha stepped through the door, the barrier around the hut shattered down, making the whole hut shake. “Inuyasha! You just dispelled the barrier, now anything can come and go!”

“How was I supposed to know that?!”

Hearing a feminine laughter outside, everyone grabbed their weapons and fled the hut. Rushing outside, they saw a village woman weeping over a body, that looked devoid of a soul and a witch standing a few feet away, glowing in the same light color Kagome had been in previously. This witch was tall, with long, pin straight, black hair, and black eyes that reminded Kagome of the darkest clouds during a thunderstorm.

“Ah, finally, that delectable soul has come out to play. I was wondering when I would get to see the face of the purest soul I have ever tasted.” The witch, in a purple garment, with elegant red beading, spoke arrogantly.

“Who the fuck are you?” Inuyasha growled loudly, pushing Kagome behind him. He didn’t like this woman or that she made his Kagome sacred.

“Well, if I must tell you, before I take all of your souls, my name is Ahmya”

“Black rain.” Miroku whispered.

“You are correct, Monk. I cursed my mother for giving me the name, she never wanted me. Her angry soul tasted divine I tell you.”

“So, that’s why you’re after our souls? Because you have mommy issues? Grow the fuck up.” Inuyasha yelled, pulling out his tessaiga and pointing it towards the woman.

Beginning to walk around the weeping villager, Ahmya began to tell her story, “Oh, my dear sweet, I have gotten over my mommy issues as you say. I walk the countryside, devouring ugly souls for my own benefit. It hasn’t been until the last few decades or so that I have come to know pure souls taste better and give me longer strength and beauty.”

“So, you made a deal with a demon then? For beauty? Well, I can tell you it didn’t work.” Inuyasha smugly responded.

Laughing like it was the funniest thing she ever heard, “I can see why her soul yearns for yours. You are charming hanyou.”

Gasping softly, Kagome began to see blurs of faces, children’s cries, souls being pulled from their bodies toward this woman. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she tried to put into words what she was seeing, her heart breaking. “What did you do to her?! Kagome?!” Inuyasha yelled, smelling her tears, turned around to face her, shocked by what he was seeing. Kagome’s hands were glowing pink, cupped together, eyes glazed over, tears flowing down her cheeks, mumbling soft words.

“Miroku, Sango, watch over everyone, I’m going to rip this witch to shreds.”

“You took their souls.” Kagome spoke softly, just loud enough for Sango to step up and ask, “What was that Kagome?”

Smiling, Ahmya started laughing. “This girl has so much power, beyond any I have ever seen in my years, with the purest soul. I tried to taste more of her this morning, but she is strong. She caught what I was doing before I got far. I, however, did get to look inside her soul, that she yearns to protect you hanyou, like you protect her. That she cares for all you others more than anything. How much she loves her beloved hanyou. She is correct, some of the purest souls have been children. They tasted so sweet, I can still hear their cries as I cradled them into their death.”

“You took so many souls. Children, old folks, babies from wombs, children from their mother’s hands, whole demon families wiped out from you, How could you?!” Kagome began, her voice growing louder, til she was almost yelling, her body beginning to glow all over and bright pink color.

“Kagome, you’re going to push yourself too hard again, take a breath.” Miroku spoke softly, trying to calm her down, stepping closer.

“I’m going to kill you. I’m going to make you pay for killing all those people and for hurting Kagome.” Inuyasha swore, raising his sword up high, while Kaede rushed to the weeping woman, and erected a barrier to protect them, knowing Inuyasha’s power. Miroku stepped in front of Sango and Kagome, while Shippo tried to help Kagome take deep breaths on her shoulder.

Before Inuyasha could swing his sword. he froze, grunting in pain. “What the hell?”

“Inuyasha!” Kagome shouted, taking step towards him.

“Stop. I’m okay, I think” he responded, feeling faint. As Inuyasha’s body started to glow white, he suddenly dropped to his knees, a vacant look crossing his face.

“I’ll start with his soul first. The yearning to protect you makes his soul quite delicious.” Ahmya licked her lips, brought her hands together, holding a mirror, chanting a soft spell, making it glow the same pale color Inuyasha was glowing in. Within the next second, an arrow surrounded in pink flew through the air, towards the mirror, causing it to fall from her hands. Eyes flashing in annoyance, Ahmya turned towards to woman who fired.

Kagome, breathing hard, readied another arrow, “Leave him alone.”

Falling to the ground, breathing shallow, Inuyasha groaned, looking up. Sango ran to this side and helped him, gathering him to his feet. Miroku started to chant, pulling his staff in front of him, creating a barrier around the gang, while Kaede still watched from afar, wearily, with the weeping woman.

“You wretched child. I will have his soul, and yours when I am done pulling his from his body.” Ahyma screeched.

Getting to his feet, Inuyasha yelled, getting ready to release the Wind Scar, Miroku stopped him. “If you release that in here, then we all die. If you step out of that barrier, she will steal your soul. You will lose yourself to your demon side, trying to survive, or you will die!”

“Inuyasha please, we’ll figure this out!” Sango pleaded. She knew this battle would be like none other fought before. Gathering Shippo setting him atop Kiara beside her, she braced herself beside Inuyasha, Hiraikotsu in position.

“Look! She’s chanting again.” Cried Shippo.

Turning around, Inuyasha stepped towards Kagome, only to hear words like a piercing scream, causing his head to pound. Pushing his ears towards his head, he saw Kagome with her hands over her ears, eyes shut tight, everyone else around with the same pained looks. Within seconds, the barrier Miroku tried to keep up, shattered, and the screaming stopped.

“Kagome! Are you okay?” Inuyasha cried.

Nodding slightly, Kagome opened her eyes to see the witch staring straight at her with a smug smile, holding the mirror in her hands once again. As Inuyasha started taking a step towards her, she felt herself becoming angry. Taking a deep, she felt her power spread from her hands, across her body and pushed out, erecting a barrier around everyone, including Kaede and the two villagers, leaving herself outside. She knew what she needed to do.

“Dammit! Kagome! What the fuck are you doing?! Kagome!!!” Inuyasha yelled from inside, beating on the walls with his fists.

“Inuyasha, I’ve got this. I can protect you. If you leave that barrier, she will take your soul.”

“You promised me Kagome! You promised me you wouldn’t over do it. You promised me you would let me protect you!”

Tears beginning to form in eyes, she wiped her cheeks and focused on her breathing, to keep her barrier steady as Inuyasha pounded against it repeatedly. Hearing the other’s voices of concerns, along with Inuyasha’s yelling, she realized Ahmya started to chant again. Knocking an arrow, she whispered “Hit the mark!” And aimed towards to glowing mirror.

Shooting off, the arrow struck in the middle and caused the mirror to shatter into tiny pieces. Small white orbs began to float around them, looking like a million little stars. Smiling, she was about to knock another arrow to take care of the witch, she began to feel the faint feeling again and saw she glowing a light white light. Falling to her knees, she gasped and the witch began to laugh, while the orbs of light floated away.

“You may have destroyed my mirror, which houses the souls that I have yet to devour, but I still can take yours.”

Kagome could hear Inuyasha getting louder, yelling and pounding, crying out her name desperately. “If I can get one more arrow in her, I can save them.” She thought bitterly to herself. Using the last of her strength, she pulled an arrow back, stringing the bow tightly. Before she could release, the bow snapped in two. Gasping in shock, she felt the last of her strength leave her, causing Kagome to fall to the ground, face first.

“NO! KAGOME! WHAT DID YOU DO BITCH? KAGOME! KAGGOMMMEEEEE!!!!” Inuyasha screamed, purple markings beginning to appear across his cheek bones, Sango had tears rolling down her cheeks, holding a wailing Shippo. Miroku began to say a prayer to let her soul find its peace in nirvana, when he noticed the barrier did not fall.

“Look,” he began, “the barrier is still up. She’s still there.” Sango, hearing this, quieted a sniffling Shippo, looking towards the girl on the ground, who lay lifeless still.

“Inuyasha, stop. Ye need to look.” Kaede began to stand, speaking directly at the angry and hurt hanyou.

“Old hag, don’t stop me. I’m going to kill that evil bitch and get her soul back.” He seethed, fangs growing, piercing his lip.

“Inuyasha. Look.” She repeated.

Turning he looked at Ahmya, seeing confusion and frustration wash across her features, wrinkles beginning to appear across her forehead. “What the…” he whispered, whipping his head to Kagome, who was glowing a bright pink.

Opening her eyes, Kagome knew she wasn’t in heaven or hell. She felt the dirt beneath her face, the soft grass on her skin. She couldn’t hear her friend’s voices. Everything seemed to be pounding in her head, she began to get up on her knees, noticing she was glowing pink, her strength returning slowly. Looking up, she saw Ahmya struggling to keep up her chant, aging beyond her years, and turned to her right to see everyone staring at her with wonder, behind her still standing, fully erect barrier. Turning in confusion, she locked eyes with Miroku, who nodded. She knew what to do next.

Determined, she began to stand, following the struggling sounds of the witch, turned her gaze towards her. Ahmya realized that she was failing. Quickly changing to another spell, deciding she could weave one to bind the girl and take her away, so she could get her soul later at her home. Suddenly, she saw the girl glow brighter, she began her spell, creating a glow around herself the color of dark purple, similar to her clothing. Shielding their eyes, everyone in the barrier braced for the unknown, Inuyasha glancing uneasily, between Kagome and Ahyma, hands on tessaiga, ready to go once the barrier was down. Sango and Miroku steadied their weapons, Kaede getting an arrow ready to shoot.

Kagome knew in this instant, if she didn’t stop this witch, she would steal more souls and never stop, taking the purest from the world. Taking a deep breath, she loudly exclaimed, her body glowing brighter, “You will never take a soul ever again.” Using all her strength and power, she readied herself to send it towards the witch. Creating a bow and arrow, whispered “How the mark.” As an arrow made from pure purification energy soared through the air, Ahyma screamed, stopping her spell and turn to try and run. Before she could take a step, the arrow plunged straight through her heart, everything exploding around her.

As the brightness died down, Ahyma dropped her knees wailing, looking at her reflection in the pieces of the broken mirror, seeing an old woman, barely hanging on to life. “You, you child! How could a child do this to me?! I will have your power! I will have ever lasting life!” Screaming, she pulled a knife from her sleeve, not noticing Kagome brought the barrier down a few seconds before.

Inuyasha jumped infant on Kagome, preventing Ahyma from harming her, and swung. “Wind Scar!” Howling in pain, Ahyma disintegrated to ash. All was quiet for about 30 seconds, before Inuyasha turned around towards Kagome with the most irate look on his face.

“Inuyasha.” Miroku spoke softly, coming up beside him, Sango following quickly with Shippo. “Wait.”

Before Inuyasha could say anything, he look at Kagome and froze. Kagome was still as can be, arms hanging beside her, body swirling in pink and white glowing colors, eyes glazed over with a blank face, covered in a barrier.

“I think ye need to take a step back everyone. She is trying to reclaim her soul and calm herself. Give her a minute.” Kaede spoke, helping the gentleman and his still crying wife up, encouraging them to go home, that they were fine and she would check on the tomorrow. “Kagome is very powerful, she realized herself tonight and her soul is attempting to recognize all of it and what she has done. Unconsciously she thinks she is still in danger and is protecting herself.”

“She won’t hurt me.” Stepping closer, Inuyasha spoke softly, “Kagome, it’s me. You are safe now. The witch is dead. I’ve got you.” He reached for her hand, and as he intertwined their fingers, her felt her take a deep breathe and eyes clearing the beautiful blue he had come to love.

The first thing she saw in his eyes was anger, followed by fear, and absolutely awe. Smiling softly, she called his name and took a step towards him, incasing him in her barrier. Once fully inside, the two of them just stood there looking at each other, neither of them speaking just yet.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

Both realizing they spoke at the same time, they blushed and laughed breathlessly.

“You were reckless. How could you Kagome?! You promised me and then went and broke every promise you made to me! I thought you died. Are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry, it wasn’t until she started to take your soul that I realized what I needed to do. I’m okay, I promise.” Kagome softly said, tears forming in her soft, blue eyes. Feeling two hands cuff her cheeks and thumbs wiping away the tears, she brought her hands to cover his.

“You can’t make promises and then break them. I can’t lose you Kagome. Promise me you won’t do that again. You have to swear. You told me you wanted to stay by my side. I need you, haven’t you figured that out by now, Kagome?”

“I swear, I promise. I won’t leave your side again.”

“You better. I’m holding you to that promise.” Inuyasha quickly kissed her forehead, making them both blush softly. “I think you had better let the barrier down, so the others can see that you’re okay. Sango looks like she’s about to kick my ass if I don’t let you go soon.”

Laughing in agreement, Kagome closed her eyes and released a deep breath, bringing down her barrier. Feeling multiple arms around her, she laughed louder, smiling, as everyone began to talk while hugging her.

“Child, ye scared a few years off my life.”

  “Kagome, are you okay? Don’t scare me like that sister.”

“Kagome, job well down. Next time, let me know when you decide to do something that powerful. I can see our lessons are working!”

“You’re okay! I was so worried about Gome! You were such a badass!”

“Shippo!” Kagome exclaimed, “Language!”

“Sorry!”

“Kagome, ye were wonderful, ye are growing stronger all the time.” Kaede began.

“She doesn’t have to do that all the time! She promised me she would be more careful.”

“Inuyasha, move over, I want to hug her.”

“Alright slayer, but I’m staying right next to her. Monk, don’t touch me.”

“It’s the curse, not me!”

“Gome! You should purify Miroku!” Shippo snickered, everyone laughing along.

“It’s the hand, I swear! I always get blamed.” Miroku exclaimed shaking his head. Kagome laughed, shaking her head at their antics, thinking of her promise to Inuyasha, that she would do whatever it took so she could stay by his side forever.

The End.

#inukag week #inukag #inuyahsa #inuyasha #kagome #mirsan #promise #inukago #inukag fluff #fluff #romance

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somersetmummy · 4 years ago

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(A/N): This fic takes place immediately following book 1 chapter 11 (after being rescued by Sam from Sofia's closet). Not going to lie, I originally posted this monster fic (7000+ words) on Wattpad as a whole (my first fic, I didn’t know better!) so I’ve taken the opportunity to re-write and condense but thought it read better as two parts.

Series/Pairing: The Nanny Affair (M!Sam Dalton x MC Katie Hide)

Original characters - all property of PB: Katie Hide (MC), Sam Dalton, Mason & Mickey Dalton, Jenny Blake, Robin Flores (Part Two only)

New characters: (Present in Part Two) Serena-Rose Warren, Tessa Finch, Lucinda Hansen

Rating/Content warning: 18+ Light sexual language

Word Count: 1880

Summary: Driving home together, Nanny Katie Hide and her boss Sam Dalton get a little hot and steamy after she receives an offer of a night out with the girls.

Find Part Two here.

Part One -

The companionable silence within the car provides a stark contrast to the chaos of rush hour on the streets outside. Sam leisurely meanders through the traffic seemingly taking care not to rush the journey, enjoying a rare opportunity for the two of them to steal a fleeting moment to themselves. With their fingers laced together resting on his thigh, as his other commands control of the steering wheel, she steals a lingering glance in his direction relishing in the flutters which catch in her stomach as he notices her watching him. His lips curl into a comfortable smile in reply of her unspoken affection and it takes all his might to keep his eyes on the road.

In the footwell below her feet the distant hum of a phone, neglected in her bag, buzzing faintly to itself punctuates the quiet once again, as it has been for the last ten minutes. Tired of being ignored, the buzzing transforms into a piercing ring causing its owner to startle and refocus. Untangling her fingers from Sam's she reaches down to collect it, her frustration at being interrupted quickly forgotten when she sees her friend's name on the home screen.

"Finally!! So you are alive!" Jenny squeals down the phone without restraint. The smirk on Sam's face is unmissable as he recognises the shrill voice on the other end of the phone. Katie returns his glance with an eye roll of her own as she braces herself for an interrogation.

"Ok, ok I get it, I'm here now. What's up?"

"You need to ask that gorgeous boss of yours to give you Friday night off, we're taking you out and I won't take no for an answer! It's about time we had a girls night, we've barely seen you since you've been living it up with that sex god."

Katie winces hoping Sam hadn't heard that last bit, subtlety was never Jenny's strong suit. She knows she doesn't need to consider her answer, just thinking of how much she's missed her friends the last few months sparks a pang of guilt deep in heart. A night free from the drama of fiancés, stolen glances and torturous longing sounds perfect.

"That actually sounds great Jen, I'll try my best to come. Aren't we pushing it to get a spot at any of the good places though if we're leaving it this late..."

Jenny scoffs, feigning disbelief that Katie would think she didn’t already have a master plan. If she wasn’t her best friend she’d feel a little insulted.

"You don't think I'm already all over that?! And I mean literally, I've got Josh on the case for us and I definitely got all over that!"

The smugness in her voice carries her words and Katie can't help but giggle as she pictures how her unabashedly forward friend would've convinced her current flavour of the month Joshua Demarco, to use his connections to get them access to the hottest new bar in town. She'd no doubt that while a few flutters of eyelashes and some kind words would have sufficed, it was more likely that Jen would have insisted on giving him something more in return. And that something would most definitely not have been PG.

As the more outgoing and vocal half of their partnership, Jenny has always had a way of charming everybody she meets, her connection with people is effortless, something which Katie finds both admirable and terrifying.

While some could argue that Katie too could charm and impress people effortlessly, she is undoubtedly more comfortable in the background, observing and understanding how things work before weighing in. She notices the details, picking up on key points of conversation, getting to know people on a personal level and drawing on their connections to help assert herself. Jen needed to be visible at all times, she was like the sun, drawing people in to her warmth and reflecting her own energy back at them in return.

"I'll leave it with you then Jen, just text me with the details and I'll see if I can make it. And I don't mean the steamy details of you and Josh, you can save those to share with me over cocktails!" Sam's intensely brooding gaze falls upon her, no doubt trying to glue together the pieces of conversation he'd just overheard. She turns to him realising he probably already suspects there’s a further story to be told. They’d not yet shared much about their lives beyond the penthouse but he’d heard enough to know that she could be easily influenced by her impulsive friend.

"Jen I'd better go, speak soon."

Returning the phone to the depths of her bag, she catches Sam's eye, his expression warm but curious, clearly waiting for her to elaborate.

"Would you mind if I took the night off on Friday? Jen's asked if I can meet her and some friends, we haven't seen each other for ages...."

Unsure where the feeling comes from, the urge to say more rushes over her like a wave crashing on the shore. It’s the same as the feeling of nervousness she had that night a few weeks ago at the diner, almost like first date nerves. Perhaps, she realises, they’ve resurfaced because her whole life has been tangled with his for the last few months, she's not really sure how to break out of it and step back into her own, or whether he'll let her.

"Obviously I'll make sure I get the boys dinner sorted, the place tidy, laundry done and get them to bed before I head out....and I won't stay out late, I wouldn't want to cause any disruption....unless you've got any pressing work or meetings which means you'll be home late... I can cancel, I know it's short notice..."

"Woah, who are you, Cinderella?!"

The mirth in his tone instantly relaxes her as she realises he's only teasing. While attempting, and failing, to look defiant her nose inevitably crinkles, unable to contain the laughter bubbling to the surface at the silliness of her outburst. He leans over gently resting his hand on her knee to placate her, stroking her delicate skin with his thumb.

"Of course you should go out with your friends."

"Really?"

"Definitely." He continues, "as much as I would love to keep you to myself I know that you have a life of your own to live too and you, more than anyone, deserve to go out and enjoy yourself."

Sweeping his hand into her own, she gracefully brings it to her lips, tickling featherlight kisses along his knuckles.

"Thank you....but I don't know that you'd really want me to let my hair down if you knew how our girls nights usually play out..."

A wicked smile casts on her lips as she looks at him from under her long eyelashes, she continues to caress his hand, her lips teasing his skin with every word. He struggles to keep his eyes on the road, his mind racing with the many possible indiscretions which he imagines could take place on girls night, especially with Jenny at the helm. The visions in his mind entrance him and he can't decide whether he wishes he was part of them, or that she wasn't.

"I see, a bit of an every man for himself situation is it?!"

He pulls her hand over to his lap where he secures it on his thigh under his own. His hope that by keeping his hand on hers he can keep her grounded to him before losing her to the inhibitions of the impending night out.

"Let's just say it'll be a hot mess of short skirts, high heels, cocktails and getting sweaty on the dance floor."

Realising that the car has come to a stop at a red light she turns to Sam looking him straight in the eye as she slides her hand brazenly up his thigh. She can feel his pants straining to contain what's growing within them while his chest visibly rises and falls more rapidly, struggling to control the pulsing hunger running through him.

"But don't worry, we usually only break a few hearts".

Unable to restrain himself any longer, he launches across the centre console, holding her head in his hands and devouring her mouth with his hungry wet lips. She lets herself fall deeply into his kiss, smiling against him as she thinks to herself that she should ask for time off more often.

The light turns to green and then red again, disgruntled drivers behind sounding their horns in annoyance as the immaculate silver Audi blocks their path, but neither occupant notices as they loose themselves in one another.

Her gentle hands press against Sam's muscular chest, marvelling in the ripples beneath her fingers, before sliding them up into his hair pulling him deeper into the kiss. He keeps one hand firmly at the back of her neck, anchoring her to him while the other roams down the curves of her body, his thumb tweaking a now erect nipple before grasping at her hip.

Intruding on their entanglement, the sound of the in-car phone system echoes around the plush detailing of the car, with 'Home' appearing on the display. Breaking apart in surprise, they finally catch a breath. Sam rests his forehead intimately against hers as he gives the voice command to answer the call and Mason's innocent voice pours out of the speakers.

"Hey dad, are you gonna be home soon? We're staaarving." It's impossible for Katie not to break into a smile as she thinks about the boys at home with Carter, no doubt teaching him all sorts of tricks which she'd never let them get away with. Sam notices her thoughtful smile and matches it with his own as their minds work as one imaging the same scene. Their eyes once again meet as they resign themselves to the intimate moment being lost, instead committing it to memory to recall again when the urge to immerse themselves in thoughts of each other inevitably come to call.

"Yeah buddy, I've just picked up Katie and we're heading home now."

The smile in Mason's voice is evident as his tone becomes more upbeat.

"Oh great, Katie's with you?...Hey Katie!"

"We missed you today, why'd you have to spend the day with Suck...I mean with Sofia anyways?!" Mickey interrupts, his fear of missing out pushing him to insert himself in the conversation.

Sam and Katie stifle their giggles at Mickey's slip of the tongue, aware of the microphone above their heads. Sam places a soft kiss on Katie's forehead before pulling away begrudgingly as she in turn adjusts her position, smoothing over her now crumpled skirt.

"Hi boys, I missed you too. I was just helping her with some grown up work stuff, definitely not as fun as a day with you monkeys though.”

Much to the relief of the drivers behind them, Sam's already breezing through the now green light towards the penthouse, this time with more urgency as the sky above begins to melt into dusk.

"How about your dad and I pick up some pizza on our way back...."

Without even a moments hesitation the twins excited voices burst through the speakers once again.

"Score!"

Tag List: @shewillreadyou @txemrn @silma-words @thefrenchiemama @secretaryunpaid @sfb123 @fanjessfic

#sam dalton #sam dalton x mc #tna #the nanny affair #fanfic #choices

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greekgeek21 · 3 years ago

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Percy Jackson & The Avengers: Convergence - they steal an old pirate ship

I'm alive!! I'm so sorry for just ditching you guys, but I was in Shasta for a week and didn't have any internet access so I wasn't even able to say that I was gonna not update. But I hope this nice, semi-long chapter makes up for it! Reminder that this is also available on FF, Inkitt, Ao3, Webnovel, and Wattpad

On a completely different note, I'm going to be starting to write a book. Like, a real published book. It'll take a few years but I'm determined and I love the idea I thought of so if any of you are interested, email me at [email protected] and I might be willing to send some samples. I want input, badly. And all the people in my life are biased. Total strangers on the internet are totally made for this, right?

I recently got into readers marauder era fanfics and I'm already in too deep, gays (and yes I meant to say gay, we all know it if you're reading pjo fanfiction). There is no escape.

Anyway, I'm running out of prewritten chapters, so I have to get to writing that while preparing to write a book. Wish me luck! Happy pride month! 🏳️‍🌈✨

- your author

Ω ♆ Ω

"Run it by me again. Just one more time," Steve asked, still highly confused.

They had made it to Florida and were now at a private dock. Percy had just briefly explained his control over any water vehicle and the Captain was not getting the point.It was understandable. Percy still barely got it.

However, they didn't have a whole lot of time, and every second they wasted discussing Percy's weird powers was another second Annabeth's captors had to hurt her. They did not have time for this.

"We are going to steal a boat, and I'm going to sail us the rest of the way," Percy sighed.

"Ok, but, how are we going to sail it if only you know how to do it?" Steve asked.

Even Piper was getting frustrated now. "He can control the boat! We won't have to do anything! The boat will listen to his will! Oh my gods!"

"But how is that possible!?" Steve shouted.

"How would I know?! I was just born with the freaky powers!" Percy yelled right back, getting fed up with this never-ending conversation.

Jason decided to cut in before things got too out of hand. They had to save Annabeth.

"Guys! This doesn't matter! What matters is that we save Annabeth, and we can't do that if we're stuck here arguing over something that is out of our control," he said.

Percy huffed. "He started it."

Hazel rolled her eyes. "How does Annabeth put up with you?"

"Honestly? No idea," Percy smirked.

"Let's just get going, team. We have a boat to steal, right?" Tony asked.

"Yep. And I think this place has the perfect one for the job." The son of Poseidon then started walking away, apparently following his weird sailing powers.

I guess we're supposed to follow him, thought Piper.

Ω ♆ Ω

"This is supposed to take us through the most cursed waters on the planet?" Bruce asked, looking the boat up and down.

"Yes. Isn't it beautiful?" Percy said and smiled, running his hand along the side.

Tony leaned over to Frank. "Is he seeing the same boat we are?"

Frank just shrugged, used to Percy's weirdness by now. Honestly, it was a little hard for him to imagine the team taking what was in front of them to Polyphemus' island. It seemed like it wouldn't survive the normal ocean.

To be clear, what Percy was suggesting they take was an old pirate ship, currently on display inside of a warehouse at the dock. It was covered in dried-up barnacles, and the mast was split in half. There were also holes all along the sides. It was a miracle the thing hadn't crumbled already.

"Yes, Tony, I am. This thing will run for me. It doesn't even need to be repaired, I can handle that. The only thing that matters is that it is built to withstand the type of waters we're going out in," Percy said. "We need all the advantages we can get."

Natasha, to everyone's surprise, spoke up, "I think we should trust Percy. If he says it'll work, then it'll work. He's the son of Poseidon, right? Nothing can hurt us while in the ocean. Am I correct, Percy?"

Jason cleared his throat and gave Percy a significant look. The Avengers needed to know that they were basically powerless in the triangle. The older teen looked ready to explain, but Frank spoke before he had the chance.

"Actually, no. The Sea of Monsters is outside of Poseidon's realm of power, hence the name. Percy won't have the same access to his father's domain as he does out here," he said, "So, basically, we're entering a dangerous situation, with no backup, and an inexperienced team. Should be fun, right?"

The Avengers were shocked, to say the least. Not at what the boy had said, but who had said it. As far as they had seen, Frank wasn't as confident as his physical form portrayed. They were wrong. Frank was confident, and his friends were proud of him for it, too. It had been a large transformation from when Percy had first met the son of Mars.

"Well, I think we should start heading out. We want to get as far as possible before the sun goes down, right?" Piper asked.

"Right," Percy nodded.

She wasn't really certain about all of this sailing stuff. Sure, she had been on the Argo II, but that was different than an actual boat. For one, it could fly and was controlled by a gaming console. She hadn't really bothered learning how to actually run a ship for that.

But now, she had to act like she knew what she was doing, and that was scary. The Avengers may put on a confident front, but she saw the insecurities in all of them. Some were harder to find than others, but finding insecurities was her specialty.

They really were going into a completely unknown situation. At least Piper and the Seven had been in this world for a little while, but the Avengers hadn't even encountered a monster before. It would sure be a shock when they were faced with some of the worst ones for their first fights. So, she and the rest of the demigods had a responsibility to be the examples, no matter how much the "adults" liked to point out that it was "ethically wrong" for them to do that.

Ω ♆ Ω

Turns out, the kid hadn't been lying about being able to sail the ship. Tony would be the first to admit that he was skeptical of the structure of the vessel, but he was proved wrong when, after the group had gotten the thing into the water, it had started to magically prepare itself for departure. Not a single drop of water leaked into the interior; it was like the water simply moved around the holes.

It was spectacular!

Before he knew it, the group had settled into the boat and were moving away from the dock. The Avengers were marveling at everything around them, considering that Percy wasn't even steering the thing, and yet it was supposedly moving in the right direction. To add to the shock, the ship's parts were moving themselves. It was not logically possible, and yet there Tony was, watching it unfold like some kind of acid trip.

"This is...amazing," he muttered, leaning against the rail with Leo, who he had taken a certain liking to. They were a lot alike.

The son of Hephaestus grinned, "Right? I told you guys Percy had cool powers. You should see him with Blackjack or Arion. It's wacky, man!"

"Who's Blackjack and Arion?" Tony asked, noting the new names.

"Oh. Right, I forgot. Blackjack is Percy's pegasus, and Arion is Hazel's horse. Percy can talk to them because his father created horses," Leo answered.

And just when the man of iron was getting used to all of this, he was pulled back into astonishment.

Ω ♆ Ω

After a couple hours of mingling and exploring, Percy called the team up to the deck. He had started to feel it a while ago when he knew it was still a distance away, but now he knew that they were approaching the Sea of Monsters.

It was a blank spot for him. Everywhere else, he could feel the ocean's power thrumming, waiting for him to control it. But here, there was nothing. Considering they were in the middle of the ocean, it was pretty obvious what it was. That was how he had tracked the place down without a map. It was his blind spot. He would just follow the blankness like it was the North Star.

Once everyone had gathered, he told them the news, and to say the atmosphere changed was an understatement. What smiles they had had disappeared, and their expressions turned serious.

"It's time, guys. Get ready. The first thing we're going to come up on is Scylla and Charybdis. We have to go through them to get into the sea. Now, I've planned this so that we should hopefully be able to pass through without any problems, but with six demigods' luck, we shouldn't rely on that too much. Charybdis only feeds three times a day, so if I planned this right, we should be able to pass over her without a fuss. Everyone got it? Be prepared for a fight, but don't expect it, please. We don't need any more reasons for the Fates to curse us."

Hazel stepped up, "Should the Avengers help us if we end up fighting something? Or should they just observe how we deal with monsters first?"

"We can handle ourselves," Steve defended.

Jason sighed, fed up with the same old arguments, "Alright, that's it! The Avengers will let us take the lead in any fights we may or may not end up in. They will not do anything without one of our approvals because we have actual experience with these beings. They will not be put on the sidelines, but they will also not be on the front lines. Does that work for everyone?"

Percy sent a thankful grin to his cousin, "Thank you, Jason. And yes, it does."

Jason just nodded in return.

"Alright, gang! Buckle up! Make sure to keep your hands and feet inside the ship at all times, and remember, the sword points away from you. It's showtime!" Leo cackled.

Just as he finished, they entered a wall of mist, which was unsettling to say the least. The temperature dropped almost three degrees as they passed through it.

Percy pulled out Riptide before steering the ship towards Charybdis. Hopefully, if everything went to plan, they would be out of this Hades-forsaken place by sunrise.

But, of course, nothing ever went to plan on a demigod's quest.

Ω ♆ Ω

Maybe it wasn't the best idea for me to come, was Bruce's first thought as he got his first glimpse at a greek monster. He had taken refuge inside the sleeping quarters of the ship, practicing his breathing exercises. He was really hoping this didn't turn into a Code Green. This was definitely not the place to let the Hulk loose.

So far, it had been silent upstairs, so Bruce concluded that it was going good so far. He had researched the Greek and Roman myths before they had left and on the plane, and everything that he could find on Charybdis was not reassuring. It was true what Percy said, that she only ate three times a day, but nobody really knew when those times were. Until Percy, apparently. He had survived the Sea of Monsters, so everyone on this ship had to trust his judgement in everything they did here. Bruce could tell that the other Avengers were struggling with taking orders from a "child." But Bruce had learned to not underestimate anyone on his travels while in hiding. Plus, look up any demigod's name and there was a whole list of accomplishments to find.

If Percy said that he knew when the monster liked to eat, then he knew when the monster liked to eat. It was as simple as that.

So, ten minutes into their first obstacle, and things were going fine. Everyone was eerily quiet, but no sign of Charybdis or Scylla yet. Of course, as soon as someone thought about it, an outline of a serpent appeared in the fog surrounding the boat.

Frank was the first one to spot it. "Guys..." He looked up at Percy. "We have a problem."

He pointed into the fog and Percy cursed. "Oh schist. I knew she couldn't just leave us alone."

The Avengers had figured out that something was coming and were unsure what to do. The demigods seemed to be just waiting like sitting ducks for the thing to attack them, and that was not a good plan. The Avengers don't wait for their opponent to strike first.

"Alright, that's it. I'm going to see what it is," Tony mumbled, activating his Iron Man armor.

"No, Tony! That's not a good-" Piper got cut off as the billionaire flew off, "...idea."

If she couldn't yell at that idiot, she was gonna yell at his teammates. She turned around, prepared to cuss out some idiot "superheroes," but Hazel beat her to it. "What was he thinking?! Why didn't you idiots stop him?! He has no idea what he's getting himself into! That monster is NOT something you guys can handle without our help! Mortalium tam stultus!"*

Natasha appraised the small demigod. She sure was a young spitfire. And from what she had seen already, a powerful one.

"Ok, let's just calm down, alright? Tony should be able to hold his own until we can go save his stupid ass," Leo sighed. Working with mortals was draining.

They were always so brash about things. And yes, coming from a greek, that statement was pretty hypocritical, but it still wasn't a lie. He idolized Mr. Stark's work, but man if only the guy could learn some restraint and he would be perfect.

Just as Leo had spoken, an explosion was heard, followed by a muffled string of curses. Only Tony Stark could come up with those creative swear words, so at least there was proof that the guy was still alive. For now, at least. The group needed to get that soon.

"Alright, hold on! This is gonna get bumpy!" Percy shouted, steering the ship towards the sound of fighting.

He willed the vessel to move faster, and it, of course, obeyed. In his head, Percy was just thinking rush rush rush. They needed to get this fight out of the way and get to Annabeth right after. Percy was praying to any god that would listen for there to not be any more disruptions to their journey. He just had to be confident in his skills. He had done this before, so he knew what lay ahead of them.

And it was going to be a challenge.

Ω ♆ Ω

Tony would deny any claim of him being held in the mouth of a sea serpent by his leg. Cuz that didn't happen. Totally.

But if it did, then the rest of the questing group would have worked together to fend off the monster until they could get away. Percy would've used Riptide to stab the monster in the leg, while Jason flew up and used his gladius to cut open her eye. The rest of the group basically just put on a full-frontal assault until Scylla released their idiotic teammate. Leo blew some fire, Hazel manipulated the Mist so that the Avengers could all see it for what it was, Piper made it loosen its grip with her charmspeak, Frank and Clint released some well-placed arrows, Natasha fired some gunshots, and Steve sliced into it with his shield.

All in all, the thing realized quickly that it was outmatched.

Then, after Tony received a very stern reprimanding by Piper and Steve, the group carried on. They didn't have time to dilly-dally. Saving Annabeth was their top priority.

Ω ♆ Ω

Meanwhile...

"Let me go, you skatá!"* Annabeth screamed, kicking her captor in the knees.

She had been knocked out as soon as they had shadow traveled, so she hadn't woken up until an hour ago. When she had, her wrists and ankles had been shackled to a stone wall with imperial gold shackles. The terrorists had stepped up their game.

There was dim lighting, but from what she could figure out before, she was in a cave of some kind. They had completely cleared out the area around her, so there weren't any visible location markers. That is, until they moved her.

The people who had grabbed her were strong and bulky and covered in black. They had black combat suits with black ski masks covering their features. Stereotypically, Annabeth would've figured the goons to be stupid, but they kept her shackles on and put a sack over her head so they at least has someone smart on their team.

Annabeth was getting really sick of not knowing anything, though.

So that's where she found herself at the moment: as a "defenseless" hostage. It was quite comical, really. Did these idiots really think that she would go quiet?

She felt one of her kicks come into contact with a kneecap and heard a satisfying grunt of pain from one of the thugs. Good, she thought, I hope that hurt.

Then, she was thrown onto the cold, stone floor and forced to hold her head up. The whole situation was so stereotypical that she wanted to laugh. But then she also didn't want to come off as more psycho than her captors, so she kept it to herself.

"This is quite interesting," a voice said, "The prideful daughter of Athena, reduced to a simple mortal's hostage.

The sack on her head was yanked off, so Annabeth spat down at the man's feet, glaring at him with a burning hatred. Taking a quick survey of the room, Annabeth found that she was being held captive on Polyphemus' island. The room was the main room of his cave; the one where she, Percy, and Grover further blinded the cyclops.

"If you had actually gotten me on your own, it might have been impressive, but having to use monsters is just pathetic," she said.

The leader growled and kicked her in the jaw. It didn't have enough power to break it, but it did cause her to bite through her tongue.

Annabeth spit out the blood produced in her mouth, dirtying the man's shiny shoes. The guy would have to do a lot worse than that to scare her.

"Hmm... I like your spirit. It's going to be that much more fun when I break it," he hissed, kneeling down to her eye level.

"I hope you rot in Hades," is all Annabeth responded with.

The guy laughed. ACTUALLY laughed. So, he was a crazy sociopath hades-bent on tearing down the natural order of the universe, Annabeth decided, how nice.

Ω ♆ Ω

I kinda really love this and I hope you did too. Now, to get into some unasked political shit: Love is love. I like all genders, and I still don't want to see any of them practically having sex in front of me. So just, accept yourself and others for who they are and move on. Is that so hard? Happy pride month & happy Father's Day!!

- your author

PS Remember to comment, like, and reblog!

other chapters :)

Ω ♆ Ω

Bonus scene!

The group was spending time in the dining room of the ship when all of a sudden, Percy remembered something truly horrifying. Like, beyond disgusting!

“Oh, my gods! Guys!!!” he exclaimed.

Hazel rolled her eyes and said, “What, Percy?”

“Charybdis is my half-sister! Ew ew ew ew ew EW EW EW EW!!!” Percy shouted his answer.

Everyone simultaneously gagged.

(Inside, Steve was starting to get seriously concerned about these kids’ chaotic family.)

#happy pride 🌈#pjo #fanfiction #fanfic #pjo fanfic #ao3 #the avengers #mcu #marvel #superheroes #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #wattpad #inkitt #webnovel

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sa7abnews · 3 months ago

Text

My Week at the Buzzy Meditation Retreat That Promises Bliss on Demand

New Post has been published on https://sa7ab.info/2024/08/09/my-week-at-the-buzzy-meditation-retreat-that-promises-bliss-on-demand/

My Week at the Buzzy Meditation Retreat That Promises Bliss on Demand

Read More: The Mindful Revolution

Read More: How Meditation Went Mainstream

Read More: How to Be Mindful if You Hate Meditating

Read More: Can Meditation Improve Your Health? Here’s What to Know

Read More: How 5 Minutes of Daily Meditation Enhanced My Life

When he returns, I tell him about my experience. He smiles: “That’s usually what I think of as the first jhana.”

#News &x26; Politics

0 notes

douxlen · 3 months ago

Text

My Week at the Buzzy Meditation Retreat That Promises Bliss on Demand

New Post has been published on https://douxle.com/2024/08/14/my-week-at-the-buzzy-meditation-retreat-that-promises-bliss-on-demand-3/

My Week at the Buzzy Meditation Retreat That Promises Bliss on Demand

Read More: The Mindful Revolution

Read More: How Meditation Went Mainstream

Read More: How to Be Mindful if You Hate Meditating

Read More: Can Meditation Improve Your Health? Here’s What to Know

Read More: How 5 Minutes of Daily Meditation Enhanced My Life

When he returns, I tell him about my experience. He smiles: “That’s usually what I think of as the first jhana.”

#News &x26; Politics

0 notes

zebrabaker · 5 years ago

Text

Paris Stands Alone; Part 3

Ta da! This has been up on Patreon VIP for a week, so if you want chapters early that's the way to go.

“We’re in!” Zatana cried, throwing her hands up in the air. It had taken Zatana and Constantine working together to breach the magical protections around the Court of Miracles comm lines, and then Oracle taking out the firewall.

“Who is this?” A voice asked. Male, by the sound of it.

“This is Superman of the Justice League; we need to speak to Ladybug.” Clark spoke, arms crossed. There was silence, as if the person was trying to think.

“Did you not see the message? France is shut off. Go away.”

“That isn’t an option.” Flash insisted. “We’ll just hack in again and again.”

“Alright.” The voice sighed. “I’ll see if her Ladyship will speak with you.” There was then silence for several minutes, and then the voice came back. “His Grace wants to set up a video chat. We’ll be ready on our end in five minutes.” More silence, and then a screen flickered from lines of code to a picture of two figures, Ladybug and Cat Sidhe, against the night sky.

“Greetings, members of the Justice League.” Ladybug spoke.

“Hello, Lady- “Superman was cut off by Ladybug speaking again.

“Tell me what you want. You have thirty seconds. Go.” Clark spluttered, before Oracle spoke.

“We want to help. A few junior members were the ones in charge of sorting the incoming messages, and they believed your cries for help were pranks. We wish to offer our deepest apologies, Your Ladyship, Your Grace, and to extend an offer of aid. We can help track down your opponent- “

“Opponent?” Cat Sidhe hissed, ears pinned back against green ombre hair. “This is not a game of chess. Dozens of French men and women die each year because idiot foreigners can’t control themselves. No one comes into France, period!” His tail was lashing violently behind him, and his claws were shining in the moonlight. Ladybug set a hand on his arm, and pulled him a few steps away, before speaking to him in a language none of them could understand. They came back after a moment, though Ladybug kept a hand on her partner’s arm.

“We’ll have a small summit. Both groups will send four emissaries, and they will meet in Germany, right by the border.”

“Very well, we can call to arrange- “

“No.” Ladybug snapped. “We will contact you. Snapping Turtle, cut the call.” The screen went black.

“That went well.” Constantine remarked.

X0X0X

True to Ladybug’s word, the screen crackled to life the next day, this time a single woman appeared on screen, from her torso up. She was young looking, with red hair in a sensible side braid that went off camera, it was so long. She was wearing a high-necked white jacket, covered in black splotches.

“Hello. I am Fidel, wielder of the Miraculous of the dog and Mistress Loyalty of the Court of Miracles. I have sent you a set of coordinates, a date, and a time. Your emissaries must be there at least fifteen minutes early. If you fail to have your emissaries in the correct place at the correct time, we will take it as you canceling your offer of aid, and will bring our emissaries home. Au revior.” The screen went blank, leaving the League stunned. Batman glared at Superman, who looked like he would very much like to be elsewhere.

“You were told to leave the situation to Diana and I.”

“Err, well – “

“We all agreed this needed to be handled delicately.” He growled.

“I – “

“No excuses, Superman. I want a full report on my desk in an hour. Get it done.” The dark night stood and prowled from the room, rage evident.

X0X0X

Fidel hung up, shutting down the shell-top. Snapping Turtle was working on their regular laptop, updating their agent on their progress on a new story. It was a romance-murder-mystery, and Fidel was loving getting to beta read it.

“How’s it going?” A voice called from the door way, and Fidel turned to see Yellow Jacket slumped against the doorframe.

“The meeting is set. Now, we need to report to Ladybug.” Yellow Jacket nodded and offered her girlfriend her arm, and Fidel took it gladly, giggling a little. The two wielders made their way down the halls of headquarters.

Headquarters, for the Court of Miracles, meant a completely secluded underground base in the middle of Paris. It was only accessible through one of Nightmare’s portals, and had only one emergency exit, which was unlocked by pushing a surge of miraculous magic into a specialized lock and reciting a password that changed weekly. It was all made by Nightmare and Snapping Turtle, and had taken months of trial and error to perfect.

As they strolled past the library, full of books on ancient magic, and journals of previous wielders that had been recovered from the site of one of the old temples, Fidel leaned her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder. Fidel had had her miraculous the shortest of all the current wielders, only a year. After her came Teacup, the wielder of the boar, who had had the boar for eighteen months. Teacup had just stopped getting her cycle a few months ago, so Fidel had time if she wished to revoke the miraculous before the changes became permanent. Not that she ever would. She couldn’t imagine life without Barkk.

They arrived at Ladybug’s office after a short elevator ride. Yellow Jacket knocked on the heavy cherry wood door and waited for the call to ‘come in’. Ladybug was working on her encrypted laptop behind her desk, probably checking the program that tracked Akuma sightings.

“Your Ladyship.” They murmured in unison, bowing low.

“Oh, stop that!” She admonished, saving and closing her laptop.

“No can do, Mari-bug.” Yellow Jacket chuckled. “You are our Lady, and we are proud to serve.”

“So long as you don’t do that when I see you at work.” Ladybug sighed. “Close the door and come in, Barkk and Pollen are probably exhausted from holding your transformations for the last few hours.” Ladybug pressed a button and the vents shuttered, so that no one could get in. It may be redundant, but Ladybug was more than a little paranoid. She had every right to be. All three called their detransformation phrase, and a trio of bright lights filled the room. Left behind was a group of young women, known to the world at large as the main designer, CEO, and CFO of Lucky Lady Design House.

“So, Chloe, what brings you and ‘brina to my office?” Marinette asked, grabbing a selection of snacks from her fridge and cupboard. Sausage for Barkk, cookies for Tikki, and croissants for Pollen.

“The summit with the JLA has been arranged. Now, we decide who to send.” Chloe sat, legs crossed, in an armchair Marinette kept for meetings like this.

“Easy!” Sabrina chirped. Chloe raised a brow and gestured for her girlfriend to continue. “We have to send Mari, as Ladybug she needs to be able to control the situation.”

“Fair enough.” Chloe admitted.

“That’s one, what of the other three?” Marinette asked, sipping a water bottle.

“We need to send two guards, so Chloe and Marc. Chloe can subdue any enemy in a single move, and Marc’s shield is impenetrable. Last member is simple, Kagami.”

“Oh? Why the dragon?” Barkk asked.

“She won’t put up with any bullshit from the league.” Sabrina shrugged.

“This is why I gave you a miraculous, you’re the best logical thinker we have.” Marinette smiled, and Sabrina blushed.

“Puh-lease!” Chloe scoffed. “Sabrina could do anything, deciding who to send to a summit with a bunch of fools is nothing for her.” Sabrina just blushed harder.

@krispydefendorpolice

@ficsforthestars

@multifandomscribette

@legendaryneckjudgestudent

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@bee-wrecker

@dawnwave16

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@stonestridernerd

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@stingrowl

@damianette-is-life

@miraculous786

@mjisntme

@hauntedfreakdeputyhero

@miraculousdisapointment

@lesscoolloki

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@isabellemasen

@sassydepression

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@moonystars14

@frostymoon11

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry

@fandoms-run-my-life

#paris stands alone #psa #mlb salt #my writing

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bbugyu · 5 years ago

Text

my happiness + lee jihoon

even in this maze-like world, jihoon made you feel a little less lost

wc.4563 | fluff, uni/hs au, gender neutral reader, seungcheol is a protective bigbro

my friend ulted jihoon recently, so <3

If there was one way to describe your brother, it was protective. You were always his baby growing up - an annoying little sibling, but he was the only one allowed to beat you up. When your neighbor made you cry when you were six, a ten year old Seungcheol went marching over to him at the park near your apartment complex and kicked over his sand castle. In hindsight, he might have been a bit of a bully, but only when other people hurt you first, and you had always been grateful for it as a child.

Now, though, it scared you. Because you had a boyfriend. And Seungcheol didn’t know.

Seungcheol had gone off to college, getting an education doing what he loved with a ton of friends. He lived in an apartment an hour bus ride away from your family home, where you spent the week in high school.

On the weekends, though, you had free reign. And most weekends, you took that hour bus ride to spend a couple nights on the couch in his living room. In the beginning, it had been because adjusting to him being gone was hard for you. For the first 18 years of your life, you had spent the evenings playfully fighting with your older brother as your mom yelled for you to sit your asses down and eat. Now, you sat at the table and shoved your food around the plate, feeling like an only child. Seungcheol knew this, and had opened the invitation - whenever you had a hard week, you were welcome, no questions asked. As long as there was a confirmation before you got on the bus, he would happily meet you at the bus stop and buy your favorite ramen and ice cream at the convenience store on the walk back to his place.

Now, though, you went just to hang out. His roommates were fantastic, a group of music-making friends Seungcheol had made in his course, not to mention the rotating cast of friends that would show up unannounced or to work on music. They were somehow just like him, yet simultaneously so different. You felt the same older brother vibe from Jeonghan that you did your actual brother. He took care of you, tossing you a tangerine when you were starting to get hangry, or sneakily adding your favorite songs to the music queue when you were pouting about something you didn't want to talk about. He lounged on the couch with a look on his face that made you wonder if his eyes ever opened fully, yet he noticed everything. Sometimes, when you were mad at Seungcheol for indescribable sibling reasons, Jeonghan would shoot you a message on kakao, and you would jokingly tell him he was better than your real brother. He always scolded you for thinking so, but it was his own fault for being so understanding.

Soonyoung and Seungcheol had the same way of expressing their passion, diving head first and only coming up for air when they were done. You had watched Soonyoung shove the small table in their apartment against the wall so that he could use the giant mirror leaning against the wall to bang out a detail in his choreographies more than once, and you recognized the look on his face as the one Cheol had as he wrote. He made you laugh the most often, always sacrificing his image to commit to a joke. The way he could transform from a striking performer into a grandma at a moments notice was maybe one of your favorite things anyone has ever done, but you refused to give him the ego boost by telling him, even if your uncontrollable laughter gave you away anyways.

And then there was Jihoon.

Jihoon was quiet and thoughtful, like your brother. He seemed to do better assessing the situation completely before inserting his opinion, which was always well considered and well explained. He leaned back in his roller chair, hand on his chin as he listened to the opinions of his room and bandmates, then somehow managed to have a suggestion that solved all their disagreements. He dressed comfortably at all times, but the clothes suited him well. You cursed him for being able to look put together while wearing sweats and sandals, all his platinum blonde hair tucked into a hat. At first, you wondered if he didn’t like you, considering how close you had gotten to the other two, but when you asked Seungcheol what his deal was, he just told you he’s shy around new people. That didn’t stop you from crushing on him. Hard.

More than once, he had looked over at you, catching your starry eyed gaze while he was working on a beat. You would always blush and look away, mortified by being caught practically drooling, but you noticed that when you stole another look, he was blushing too.

Seungcheol always grilled you about the boys at school. He always made you promise that you wouldn’t go on any dates with any of them before getting his approval, and you sighed and agreed, thinking specifically about how he had said “high school boys aren’t worth your time.”

Jihoon had been around for a couple of these conversations, and while he always stayed seated, facing his computer and away from you, you could see his fingers falter over the keyboard, his creative function pausing as he heard you insist to your brother that none of the guys at your school interested you.

One weekend, you were cramming for an exam, seated on the floor and laid out on the table at the apartment. Around 2 in the morning, Seungcheol told you to not stay up too late, told Jihoon that if he kept you up he would end up dead, then retired to his bedroom. You had yawned once in the half hour since then, and Jihoon immediately spun around in his chair, tearing off his headphones.

“I should let you sleep,” he said, saving his files.

“No, no,” you insisted. “I’m gonna be up for at least another hour, don’t stop working for my sake.”

Jihoon pursed his lips, a habit you had noticed in the time you had known him. He nodded, acknowledging that he trusted your judgement and that he could keep working as he spun around slowly to resume. You watched his profile a moment, noticing the way his eyes scanned his screen while he was frozen, seemingly lost in his own brain versus processing what he was viewing.

“Can I hear what you’re working on?”

He blinked at you hard. “Hah?”

You giggled, trying to keep quiet, knowing his roommates were all asleep. “Can I listen? It might give me strength to keep studying.”

“I-I, uh-” Jihoon stuttered for a moment, clicking around on his screen. “Y-yeah, one second-”

Your lips pursed to hide the creeping smile on your face. Seungcheol had told you ages ago that Jihoon never went on dates. You had slept over at the apartment when Soonyoung had come home late after nights out, or Jeonghan not returning until morning. You had even stayed home a few weekends for the express reason of letting your brother go on dates without worrying about you being at his place alone. Jihoon, though. He was always home, either sleeping or working. You wondered if he even went to class. It was hard to imagine him anywhere but his desk in the living room.

You crawled over to the desk from you spot on the floor, and Jihoon stood up as you got near, gesturing for you to take his seat. As you sat, he handed you his headphones and kneeled, hand on his mouse as you put them on. He looked at you briefly to make sure they were on the right way, then hit the spacebar on his keyboard.

As the beat started, you immediately smiled and let out a small “ooh,” turning to Jihoon as he tried to look anywhere but at you. Your head bobbed as you listened to the cheerful beat. “I love it. What melody are you thinking?”

He cocked his head. “I haven’t gotten that far. Cheol already wrote a few bars, so I made it for that mostly, but I don’t have a hook yet.”

You nodded, humming a quiet accompanying melody absentmindedly.

“Oh,” Jihoon said, suddenly looking at you. “That’s good? That was really good. Hang on.” He paused the playback and grabbed the microphone, and you watched in shock. “Can you do that again?”

“I-I, me?” You gulped. “I’m not a singer, you should do it.”

“You came up with it, how am I supposed to know it?” He asked, clicking around quickly. You leaned back in the seat as his arms reached across you to access the keyboard better. “You should record it, quick, before you lose it.”

You stared at the microphone he put in your hand as he went back in the song to where you ad-libbed, still slightly shocked at the difference in Jihoon’s personality when he started entering producer mode.

“Ready? Just do it naturally. Whatever feels right.”

You looked at him, nodding. The music resumed in your ears, and you sang the melody you had hummed into the microphone with no real lyrics. When you finished what came to you, you pulled the microphone away from you, giggling suddenly. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Why, why?” Jihoon took the mic from you and smiled, after saving the recording. “You sounded good! The Choi siblings are talented.”

“No,” you groaned. “Seungcheol got all the musical talent.”

“Yah,” he furrowed his brow at you. “Are you saying I’m not a good judge?”

You laughed again. “No, no, I’m not!”

“It sounds like you think I don’t know a good voice when I hear it.”

“Stop!”

“Then admit you sounded good!”

You pouted at him, and he laughed. Your frown broke slightly, only to end in you giggling as he looked back at his screen, adjusting a couple things. You wanted to watch what he was doing, but you were lost in his profile. He gave you a sideways glance quickly, then again when he realized you were staring.

“What?”

You shook your head, but didn’t stop looking at him. “Nothing.”

This was the closest you had ever been to Jihoon, sitting in his chair with him beside you, and your heart felt like exploding just by the way he was looking at you.

Then you heard a door.

Jihoon stood suddenly, instinctively clearing his throat and focusing on the screen as you spun in the chair to see Jeonghan emerging from their shared bedroom.

He paused outside of the door, staring at the two of you, processing the scene he had just walked into. “What’s all this?”

You blinked, and Jihoon cleared his throat again.

Jeonghan sighed, grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch. “You guys are too obvious.”

“Where are you going?” You asked suddenly, remembering the hour.

He eyed you, knowing what you were thinking. “Nothing like that. My girlfriend just accidentally played Animal Crossing for ten hours straight and has an exam in six hours. I’m taking her to a cafe.”

You nodded slowly, remembering the girl you had met a few weeks before, then wondered what class has an exam at 9 on a Saturday. “Stay safe.”

“I should be saying that to you.”

“Hey,” Jihoon said, feeling accused. “What’s that mean?”

Jeonghan laughed as he grabbed his wallet and keys, shoving them into the pockets of his denim jacket. “You do know that Seungcheol will literally kill you if you make a move on his baby, right?”

You bit your cheek. Jihoon stuttered behind you.

“I’ll keep your secret,” he said, shoving his feet into a pair of vans. “But if you guys are this obvious in front of him, don’t blame me when he finds out.”

It had been a month since Jeonghan had called you both out for having feelings for each other. A month since Jihoon shyly admitted that he had liked you for a while, but hadn’t expected you to feel anything for him. A month since you, a blushing mess, said that you had a crush on him the second you met him. A month since he gently put a hand on your jaw and kissed you.

A month since you started avoiding your brother’s questions about boys. And he was starting to get annoyed.

“None, Y/N? Really? No guys?”

You rolled your eyes, pausing your note taking. “No, bro. Boys at my school are stupid.”

“What about outside of school?”

This was the first time Seungcheol had suggested that you might know people outside of your class, and your panic must have shown on your face by the way Jihoon snorted from behind Cheol. He spun around and looked at the younger. “What? Is it crazy to think that Y/N might know people outside of school?”

“No,” Jihoon said, straight faced. “I just don’t get why you’re so insistent on them having a boyfriend when you wouldn’t approve of any of them anyways.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, refocusing on your textbook. “Can you guys shut up, I have a quiz on Monday.”

“You have all weekend,” Cheol said, grabbing your notebook as you protested. “Whats up, my precious little sibling. Why aren’t you dating? You’re graduating this year.”

“Because I have an oedipus complex and no one compares to my brother,” you said, trying to snatch your notebook back as Jihoon broke out into a laugh. “Can you leave me alone for one weekend?”

“If you want me to leave me alone you shouldn’t come to my apartment.”

You didn’t tell him you only came because you wanted to see your secret boyfriend, who just so happened to be his roommate.

Jihoon was good to you, you thought. If he woke up early enough, he would facetime with you during your lunch period at school while he walked to his first class, bleary eyed and swollen from sleep. You shoved your classmates away as they teased you for your older man and he would just laugh, rubbing his eyes in the afternoon sun. He’d send you pictures of random things all day, sometimes in class, or in the library. A book cover he thought you would like the design of. The way the clouds looked in the sunset when he was walking back to the apartment. You often got selfies of him pretending to be asleep during lectures. You would send pictures back of your sneakers while you walked home from school, or selfies you took with the mirror in your room. Every other afternoon, he would facetime you again after Seungcheol left for his afternoon class, and you would study while he messed around on his computer, letting you listen to his music making process.

Then, Friday afternoons, you would skip up the stairs to your family apartment and rush to pack an overnight bag, telling your mom you were headed to Seungcheol’s. She would tease you for spending more time there than at home, but was secretly glad that her kids were staying close. On the bus, you would switch your wallpaper back to an edit with lyrics to some Jonas Brothers song from the picture that Jihoon had sent you earlier that week. You texted both Jihoon and your brother, separately, letting them know you were on your way.

Your phone rang in your hand suddenly while you were watching Jihoon type on the other side of the conversation. Seungcheol.

“Hello?”

“Hey, kiddo! Something came up and I can’t get you at the bus stop.”

You paused. “Okay?”

“So wait until later.”

You paused again, looking around the bus you were seated in. “No?”

“What do you mean, no?”

“Seungcheol, I’m not a little kid. I know where you live. Besides, I’m already on the bus.”

You rolled your eyes when you heard him groaning. “You’re so annoying. Okay, hang on.”

“You’re the one being annoying, bro-” you were cut off by the sound of a door opening and Cheol yelling a sustained “YAH!”

“Can you go get this stupid kid at the bus stop? By the 7eleven?”

“Bro, I’m not a stupid kid-”

“Okay I’m back. Jihoon says he’ll come meet you.”

You paused. “Fine.”

“Ah, you’re fine if it’s Jihoon but not me. I see how it is.”

You laughed. “What do you mean?”

“This kid,” he muttered teasingly. “Doesn’t even care that their big brother just wants to take care of them. Prefers the other brothers. I get it. I’m not hurt.”

“Shut up,” you laughed. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah whatever. Love you!”

“Love you, too.”

Then you sat, vibrating, on a bus for forty-five minutes.

You stood by the back door as the bus stopped in front of the 7eleven, grinning when you saw Jihoon leaning against the wall, waving at you through the bus window. You hopped off and excitedly skipped towards him, making him laugh as he pushed off the wall.

“Hi,” you said, grinning.

“Hi,” he said back, quickly leaning into you for a kiss.

You really cherished the moments you could act how you wanted with Jihoon. You knew that if you let yourself get soft and sappy with Seungcheol around, it would be a dead giveaway, so you kept your normal attitude at the apartment. But, what you wanted to do was hook your arm into Jihoons, plant a kiss on his cheek, and happily tell him about your week as you walked. So that’s what you did.

Despite the fact that you had talked over facetime the day before, you still found something to tell him about, making him laugh when you imitated one of your classmates. He told you that he started a new song the night before, and you begged him to let you listen to it when you got home, but he said you had to wait until it was done.

Your fingers fit well between his, you thought, when he suddenly asked if you were hungry.

“Kinda,” you said, looking over to him. “You?”

He nodded, looking down the street at what was around. “I haven’t eaten yet today. Do you wanna go to the snack bar?”

You grinned, giving him a look. “Lee Jihoon, are you asking me out?”

He laughed, tugging your hand with his. “Shut up. Let’s go.”

You decided to let it slide that it was almost four in the afternoon and he hadn’t eaten yet, giggling as you got pulled down the street. You had always liked Jihoon, obviously, but you especially liked the Jihoon you had gotten to know. The one that was relaxed and laughed at every chance he got, rather than the shy and hesitant Jihoon you had met. Now that he wasn’t trying to hide his feelings from you, he had become a cooler, calmer version of himself when you were around, not just when he forgot you were sitting on the couch while him and the guys worked on a song.

When you entered the snack bar that your group frequented often, you realized you had never eaten anywhere alone with Jihoon, much less there. It was starting to kind of feel like a real date, you thought, as he led you to a small table, looking over the menu when he sat despite probably having it memorized. You quickly got up and retrieved a pitcher of water for you both, asking him what sounded good.

“Everything,” he said, leaning back and stretching his shoulders. “What do you want? My treat.”

You bit your cheek, looking at the menu, despite also having it memorized. It really was starting to feel like a date. “Rabokki?”

“Oooh, I like it. With cheese?”

You scoffed, pouring the water for both of you. “Always with cheese.”

He laughed as he pulled the cap off a felt tip pen to mark out your order. “Do we want the fried rice at the end, too?”

“Wah,” you said, eyes wide. “I haven’t had that in so long. Are you hungry enough?”

He looked at you. “Are you being serious?”

You giggled, letting your hand find his free one beside the inset grill, fingers slipping between his. “Order it, then.”

He inhaled sharply, cocking his head at the menu. “Should we also get kimbap?”

“Jihoon, there’s only two of us.”

“And?”

He played around with the idea for a bit longer, making you laugh, but he decided against it so that he could justify ordering chicken for dinner. After the older woman that ran the place took the marked menu from Jihoon, he stared at you for a minute, then smiled.

You pouted, suddenly shy under his gaze. “What?”

“You’re really cute.”

You pulled your hand away from his and leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms. “Shut up.”

He laughed, leaning forward to pull your hand back. “Hey, hey! That’s mine. You can’t take it.”

“My hand?”

“No, mine.”

You held it up. “This one? The one attached to me?”

“Yeah, it’s mine. Give it back.”

You wished you didn’t blush so hard as you pouted and muttered a “fine,” letting him take it back and rest it on the table again.

Then there was thunk on the window, making you both jump and look over, along with the few other patrons. Your eyes got big as your big brother pointed at you, a balled fist against the glass.

“Yah!” His voice was muted from through the glass, but his tone was obvious. You looked at Jihoon, then at your hands, and you both pulled away as soon as you realized, but it was way too late. You groaned and collapsed onto the table as Seungcheol marched to the entrance and entered the snack bar.

“What the hell! You didn’t tell me?”

Jihoon stood up, but stuttered. “H-hey, calm down, bro-”

“Y/N.”

You didn’t lift your head. “What.”

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry,” Jihoon interjected. “I asked them to not let you know. It’s my fault.”

“What?” Seungcheol stared at him. “Why? Why would you think I wouldn’t want to know about this?”

“Because you would have said I wasn’t good enough, and you’re right.”

That made you pop your head up, squinting at Jihoon. “What? No. That’s not true.”

“How can you judge?” Seungcheol asked, nodding at you. “You don’t have experience with guys. You barely even know him.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Oh my God, Seungcheol, I’ve known Jihoon for almost a year now. I probably know him better than you do. And I don’t need you telling me who’s worthy of my time.”

Seungcheol pouted at you, his brows giving away that he was more hurt than angry. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You paused. “Are you serious?”

He exhaled, sitting in the extra chair at your table, completely ignoring the group of people he had been walking with that were now just standing outside of the restaurant. “How long?”

You eyed Jihoon, who quietly sat across from you. “About a month.”

Seungcheol clicked his tongue, as he looked around, concealing a curse and clearly annoyed that he hadn’t figured out sooner. “How serious?”

“I really like Y/N,” Jihoon said, pulling both of your attention. He adjusted his baseball cap, another habit of his you had noticed. “A lot. I would like it to be serious.”

You pursed your lips, trying to hide a smile. “Me too.”

“God, I hate this,” Seungcheol said, rubbing his face. “This sucks so much.”

You shoved his shoulder. “Why, why?”

“Because I want to beat up your boyfriend but I don’t want to beat up my producer.”

“Nice,” Jihoon deadpanned, looking at you with a raised fist in victory. “We found a loophole.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Seungcheol groaned, pulling himself out of the chair. “Are you paying? You better be paying.”

Jihoon laughed, hands up in surrender. “I’m paying, I promise.”

“He already offered, Seungcheol, seriously. God, you’re so annoying.”

“I can’t believe I’m leaving you two here.”

“Are you?” You asked. “Because it seems a lot like you’re still here.”

“Oh, nice,” Jihoon raised a hand and you laughed as you high fived him.

“I’ll kill you both if given the opportunity, I swear,” Seungcheol said, walking towards the door. “Take me seriously.”

“Of course, big brother! I love you!”

Jihoon made a heart with his arms and you held your face, trying to not snort at the way Seungcheol pointed and looked at him.

“God, this sucks,” he repeated before opening the door, sounding completely defeated. "Oh my God the song you were writing yesterday-”

Jihoon cleared his throat. "Hey, bro, shut up."

You eyed Jihoon and he shook his head. Seungcheol leaned against the doorframe in anguish, still complaining about how much he hated the situation. You waved to him as he rejoined his friends, all of them slapping his back as he huffed. You exhaled deeply and looked at Jihoon. “Well, that went better than expected.”

He exhaled, nodding, rubbing his hands on his thighs. “I think I saw my life flash before my eyes.”

You giggled a moment, then paused. “Were you serious earlier?”

Jihoon looked at you, wide eyed. “About what?”

“That you don’t think you’re good enough.”

His tongue clicked and he inhaled, fidgeting with his hands. “I- yeah. Kinda?”

“Why?”

He shook his head. “I just don’t get you.”

You frowned. “What?”

“I don’t get how-” he paused, clearing his throat and straightening his spine. “I don’t understand it. You’re so funny and cute and smart, I’m sure people are asking you out at school all the time. Wouldn’t it be easier to have a boyfriend you could actually spend time with?”

“We do spend time together,” you said, thinking of all the video calls and the weekends hanging out.

“Not really,” Jihoon said. “Not like a couple.”

You faltered. “You mean like going out?”

He pursed his lips, clearly not sure how to express what was going on in his head with you pushing for an answer. “I guess? Don’t you think you should see your boyfriend more?”

“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying to get him to look at you again. “But only because you’re my boyfriend. I like you, Jihoon. I don’t wanna be with anyone else.”

He sniffed suddenly, a smile breaking through. He raised his eyebrows a bit, and you almost laughed at his playful look. “You don’t wanna be with anyone else?”

You giggled. “No. Only you.”

“Wow,” he said, putting his hands on the table. “No one, huh?”

“Shut up,” you said, recognizing his jokingly cocky tone.

“Wow, this feels good, huh?” He grinned, committing to the bit by speaking in dialect. “I like this feeling. Turns out, happiness isn’t just a word.”

Your eyes closed as you laughed. “You’re acting so weird, stop.”

He laughed with you while your pot arrived and the server turned on the burner. Jihoon immediately began breaking up the ramen, smiling sideways while you watched him.

“What?” He asked finally, wondering why you stared at him instead of the food.

You smiled. “I like you.”

He exhaled with a smile. “I like you, too.”

#LEE JIHOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i love that mf so much wow #also jeonghans gf is me idk if thats obvious enough #woozi #lee woozi #lee jihoon #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #lee jihoon scenarios #lee jihoon imagines #i wrote dis #wooji #yes the song he wrote is simple shhhh

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