#like girl I don’t know what these numbers in the little skill descriptions mean

[warriorfujoshi]

refraction railway guide: this fight is EASY SNOOZEFEST you can do it in 3 turns 😎

me:

[jinkookspencil]

the quest | ksj

your boyfriend's friends are a great help on your quest for a new hobby, leaving him feeling... irked?

description/tags: kim seokjin / established relationship / angst + a little fluff (the angst slowly builds until it's basically hurt/comfort) / feat. the rest of bts / jealous boyfriend jin / pov switches from yn to jin / no trigger warnings i'd say pg-13 / request from this anon! i hope you like it, sorry it's taken me so long, i wasn't feeling the best. i don't know if that feeling had an impact on the fic - i felt such an urge to rewrite the whole thing and start from scratch because i read it over so many times! that'll just take much longer so.. i might rewrite this sometime in the future or upload a shorter version since it ended up being my longest work ever???

wc: ~8k words

Statistics and relationship coaches claim that every introvert needs an extroverted partner. The extrovert to ‘bring the introvert out of their shell and live a little’ and the introvert to show the extrovert the value of rest and healing in solitude.

But no one who believed any of that crap had met you and Seokjin. You and Jin fit together like the pieces of the puzzles you two loved to solve together on the weekends.

The two of you were too alike: introverted souls with charming social skills and a small group of friends who ultimately loved staying at home and indulging in your stress-relieving hobbies in much-needed peace and quiet. Or so it seemed.

Early on in your relationship, Jin had boasted about his gaming skills to no end, so his irregular, prolonged gaming sessions came as no surprise to you, but considering this, what had been so surprising was the number of friends and hobbies he actually had.

Sure, you had your fair share of the same as well, but Jin did so much more than he ever let on: snowboarding, tennis, fishing, golf, and cooking, to name a few, and he carried them out with friends of all ages, from grandfathers in their sixties who he loved cooking with, to careermen in their thirties he played golf with on the weekends. When he finally invited you to see him in action, you quickly found out that it was as attractive and inspiring as it was surprising…

“All this because I sweat when I play tennis?” he said when his breathing finally returned to normal following his high, still lying naked on the living room couch after he invited you to watch him play.

“Yes… just like you’re sweating now,” you murmured, sitting up from your position between his legs and admiring Jin’s glistening, flushed skin as you grazed his chest and traced the muscles he loved to hide. “I don’t think I ever got the whole ‘jock’ thing being attractive, but it was hot… seeing you all sporty. I wish I could be like that... I want to be. I need more hobbies.”

“What do you mean?” Jin says, sitting up. “You love to read. Everywhere I turn, I see books - if there hadn't been a bed in your old apartment, I’d have thought it was a library, and now my - our - apartment is beginning to look like one.”

“I’m in the worst reading slump of my entire life. I need to do something different. More hobbies. More friends. The girls are great, but… seeing you, I feel as though I want… more. I want to be a better version of myself - and for myself. Don’t they say that happens to you when you find the right person?”

Jin’s lips meet yours once more, briefly, before he pulls away and opens his mouth to whisper. “I understand striving for ‘better’ or ‘more’ baby, but I hope you know that you’re enough. You’re always more than enough. Just the way you are. You’re good. You’re great. You’re beautiful. I love you.”

The simple yet significant words, coupled with Jin cupping your face and brushing your hair to the side, were just what you need at that moment to put your mind at ease, and you easily fall asleep in Jin’s arms.

+

The quest for a hobby was supposed to be simple. Try, and try, and try until you saw what would ‘stick.’

It was clear early on that your boyfriend’s hobbies would never be yours.

Jin begrudgingly demoted you to ‘his sous-chef-for-life’ when you nearly burned the house down three times in your attempts to surprise him with dinner.

His own gaming etiquette got in the way of you ever enjoying a good game with him, for he had no patience with newbies, and you didn’t have the patience to learn all the controls. The only good that attempt did was him buying you a PC and every gaming accessory possible in your favorite colors, even though they mostly went untouched. For his sake, you’d use the Switch controller whenever he insisted on a game of Mario Kart, and you visited your PC every now and then for a slower game. “I’m a GAMER. AND I cook. AND I fish, too,” you tease Jin every time you play Cooking Mama and Animal Crossing for all of 15 minutes.

Fishing, on the other hand, was a scene from your worst nightmare. Being woken up at the crack of dawn to maybe catch a fish after hours of waiting while seasick… was something you swore to Jin you’d never do again. Luckily, he seemed to prefer it as his usual “boy’s time” anyway, even though he never voiced it, and you quickly found out that the exact same could be said for golf - but neither of you minded the occasional role you played from the golf cart, seeing your boyfriend in action and matching in the most bougie athleticwear on the market.

Tennis… was a sight to behold. You had always said that when it came to Jin, attending some of his practice sessions just to bask in the sight and sounds of him on the court, but the same could also be said for you, though in an entirely different context. The racket seemed to reject your very being, flying from your grasp on numerous occasions and putting Jin’s trainer at risk as well as the general public when it went flying over the court’s walls and onto the street. Jin went so far as to dub it ‘the most memorable tennis day of his entire life,’ despite the fact that he had won a small championship.

Until snowboarding season came around, you were left without any new skills or passions shared with your boyfriend. His support and endless words of encouragement meant the world, but iIt had to have been for the better that none of his hobbies were yours - you understood that those were spaces he needed for himself and didn’t want to be the girl whose entire hobby or life was her boyfriend.

Nights and days he spent away were left entirely in your restless hands - try, and try, and try….

“Are you seeing Mina tonight? Nana? Girl’s night?” Jin asks as he puts on his coat.

“They’re still sick,” you pout. “I’ll be waiting here for you, baby.”

“Do you want to come along? Mr. Baek’s kitchen is always open.”

“Didn’t you say you were making some kiwi pie thing today? You know I’m allergic.”

Jin resigns, taking off his coat. “I’ll stay, then.”

You don’t allow him to, handing the thick, fleecy material back to him. “No, baby, I’m fine. Tonight, I’m trying out a new interest: European classical movies. Apparently, French films from the 1960s are very influential and artistic.”

“And boring,” Jin adds. “I watched some at university. You’re better off with Asian cinema.”

“I’ll leave that for whenever you’re free, then,” you say, anticipating the day but quickly putting the thought away. “I’ll be blasting this film so loudly, not even your ‘soundproof’ gaming room would be safe from its jazzy soundtrack.”

Jin smiles before parting his lips, considering the words he was hesitant to speak. “What if… what if I called up Taehyungie and asked him if he’s free to hang out with you?”

You drop your head as you raise your brows. “You’re arranging a play date for your girlfriend? I’m a grown woman, Kim Seokjin. I can entertain myself, much like you can…...” Your voice trails off, thinking of all the failed attempts at entertaining yourself with different hobbies and interests that were anything but interesting.

“It’s just that I know Taehyung would love that! C’mon, you know he would! You seemed to be getting on with him whenever we see the boys, right? Didn’t you both fangirl over Frank Sinatra the last time we hung out?”

“It’s Bing Crosby, honey.”

“There you go - I can’t even tell the difference… but Taehyung can. For what it’s worth, he’s complaining in the group chat non-stop that he’s bored out of his mind. So… why not?”

+

Steps away from his front door, Jin could hear trumpets echoing from his apartment. Taehyung worked his magic, alright, he thought to himself as he inputted the keycode and swung the door open. Jin expected to see the two of you lounging on the couch, watching the film, or simply having the music play through your vinyl player while you chatted away with a glass of wine. What he did not expect was to see the two of you drunkenly dancing in horrible fashion with intertwined hands and Jimin laughing his head off from the couch.

“OH! Speak of the devil!” Jimin cheers, seemingly sober. “Jin-hyung, save me from these two - please.”

In a second, you rush to Jin, screaming his name as you wrap your arms around his neck and messily kiss him on the lips. “Thank God. I can do as the song says and finally dance with mon cherie. Tae, mon ours, go sit.”

A pout appears on Taehyung’s face as he plops beside Jimin, but your eyes are still on your boyfriend, attempting to manhandle him into some form of movement. “Oh, my baby,” he laughs, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “Taehyung, I expected you to take care of her.”

“And that’s why I called Jimin,” Tae babbles, forcing a not-so-innocent childlike expression on his face, pointing at their friend. “We-we’re staying over tonight, okay?”

“Seems like a sleepover already,” Jin tuts.

“Humor her, hyung. I was called in halfway through the film and we’ve yet to finish it because they keep repeating the same scene. She’s been saying she wants to dance with you all night like the girl in the movie does,” Jimin says.

“I’ve never seen this film. I don’t know what to do,” Jin says.

“We’ll teach you,” Taehyung says as tries to rewind the film to whatever dance scene you were talking about, in as bad of a state as you were, which Jin thought would help. “Jimin, stand up.”

Jimin does, allowing Taehyung to latch onto him, and thus is immediately suffocated by the weight of his friend. “Copy my lead, hyung.”

The following morning, Jin is as fiery as the breakfast he’s cooking up on his own, ranting to himself in pout while the three of you only watch on due to your shared lack of cooking skills, hungover and bundled up at the kitchen counter.

“Do you think yoga and meditation suit me as hobbies?” you ask the boys after you and Jin had explained how you came up with ‘the movie night to end all movie nights’ as Taehyung had labeled it.

“With your patience?” Jin scoffs, and you’re quick to shoot him a glare - it stung, perhaps more than it should've, so you quickly put the thought away. Nights alone and countless failed hobbies exhausted your patience, but he hadn't seen that... as you hoped. After all, Jin was always supportive and offered not only to stay the night prior, but also indirectly gave you one of the most memorable movie nights of your life with Taehyung. A soft glare was enough.

“That’s exactly what I mean! You need yoga and meditation, but can you do it? Sit still like that?" You open your mouth to argue but fail to do so at the sight of your shaking knees - he was right. "Oh, hey, you know who else can’t sit still?”

“Who?”

“Jungkookie. You seemed to get on with him, too, no? If you’re looking for something active, why don’t you let him teach you boxing?”

“We do pilates together too, twice a week, if that’s more your thing,” Jimin quickly adds, “You’re free to join us any time.”

“Yah, it’s not easy,” Taehyung jumps in, taking a bite of the breakfast that was now in front of him. “If you want to exercise your creative skills, which is a million times more fun, we can do a painting session together. Just for fun, it doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“Exactly! That’s what I’ve been telling her,” Jin says, pointing his hands in thanks towards Taehyung for echoing the words he'd spoken to you restlessly when you gave up origami and journaling. There had to have been some wisdom in the advice, you think, but your patience had been worn thin... how much more could one person try?

"She wants whatever she does to be ‘perfect’ at the very first attempt, but that’s impossible," Jin continues. "The only perfect thing in the world is her, but even she has to start as a beginner. That’s the point of hobbies - they don’t have to be perfect, you just need to enjoy them.”

“You called me perfect,” you blush, kissing Jin’s cheek. The reminder sufficed to get your legs to stop from beneath the kitchen table, now fiddling with the fabric of his hoodie. It was hard to envision being good enough or interesting, but at the very least, one person had seen you as such. Jin and his constant reminders were the only things that kept you from falling off the deep end... he never let you stray too far, even in your thoughts, nudging you towards Jimin when your head started to rest against his shoulder the way it always did when you needed reassurance.

“Pilates does sound interesting…” you mumble.

“Good!” Jimin cheers. “Tomorrow. You, me, Jungkookie.”

“Oh, but first,” you pause, holding Jin’s arm. His eyebrow is already raised, knowing you were about to tease him. “Are you sure it’s alright for me to go work out with your very fit and adorable young friends?”

“I am sure, brat,” Jin says, rolling his eyes before quickly whispering to Jimin, “Make sure Jungkookie keeps his shirt on.”

+

One pilates session with Jungkook and Jimin quickly turned into two, which turned into three, which turned into boxing sessions with Jungkook alone, regular morning jogs with Jimin, and a newfound love for fitness. Boxing made you feel stronger, and Jungkook’s thoughtful observations and comments were of more help and motivation than your now-shared instructor. And catching the sunrise at dawn really was as beautiful and as ‘worth it’ as the annoying health gurus claim to be, something you and Jimin begrudgingly admitted to.

Jin had been supportive as he always was.... up until the day you almost fainted, scolding Jungkook and Jimin for not being more careful of you and insisting you take a week-long break.

“But honey, I don’t want to stop so abruptly! I’m on a roll and I miss the boys already! And for the record, they are always so considerate. I messed up and did more than I should've, but I'm fine today!” you pout, laying on the couch with a hot compress on your core to relieve your soreness and snacking on a fruit bowl, as Jin instructed and prepared.

“My love, you’re exhausted. I don’t want to hear any more of it for at least five days….” he tuts, carefully placing kinesiology tape on your skin. “I hate seeing you this upset, though. You said you feel as though your brain ‘opened up’ when you began exercising, right? Well, why don’t you try exercising that beautiful brain? Take Taehyung up on his offer and take an art class together.”

So you do. Sandwiched between Taehyung and Jungkook at back-to-back painting sessions, you were inspired by their very different approaches to their shared hobby. Tae had his signature style that seemed to effortlessly flow out of him and onto the canvas every time, whereas Jungkook tried a different approach, concept, tool, or style at every session. Both boys seemed like natural talents, but you found peace and awe in Taehyung’s freedom of expression and especially Jungkook’s itch to learn and try new things so fearlessly time & time again...

It was hard to tell what you would create from session to session, slapping paint on a rough pencil sketch every time, but with every stroke of your paintbrush and conversation with the boys, you could breathe a little better...

“Ya, with all these colors… Is this what Namjoon-hyung calls ‘modern art’?” Jungkook teases, staring at your latest creation. You’re quick to poke him with the paintbrush for teasing you, and he’s quick to reassure you.

“It’s Pollock-y, dear Jungkookie the Artist Who Hates Learning Art History,” Taehyung explains. “It is art.”

+

to: my love [6:01pm]: hey, how’s the art class going? how are the boys?

to: prince charmjin [6:32pm]: good! we’re basically done!! we’re going out for dinner. jungkookie is hungry and i think I owe him for making him listen to my rant on the injustice women face and how society is built on misogyny

to: my love [6:34pm]: hehehe knowing jk, he was willingly listening, like i did. even he’d agree that you don’t him dinner. i made pasta at home..

to: prince charmjin [6:51pm]: aw :( we’re already at the steakhouse. maybe jk will be in the mood for pasta later too though

to: my love [7:01pm] have fun :)

to: prince charmjin [8:58pm] on my way home, honey. tae’s dropping me off. jungkook wanted to come but he’s asleep right beside me and he’s tae’s next stop.

to: my love [9:02pm]: good, they’re taking care of you just as i asked them to

to: prince charmjin [9:04pm]: they’re the bestest boys. i don’t need them to take care of me though. :3

“They’re my babies, and I love them,” you remark to Jin after showing him your latest creation, a matching one-of-three painted self-made pottery sculpture with the boys.

The younger boys were your safe space, he thought. Good. And… so am I.

“And I’m your biggest baby that you love the most,” Jin smiles, pouting his lips in want of a kiss. When you grant his wish, a feeling washes over him… one that he couldn’t help but identify as temporary. A seconds-lasting painkiller. “I guess you get the younger boys, and I get the older ones. I’m closer to them anyway. You’ve met them all, haven’t you? Namjoon and Yoongi? And Hobi, of course.”

“Hoseok is always here, Seokjin, so of course, but I think I’ve heard of Namjoon and Yoongi more times than I’ve actually seen or met them. Do they have any hobbies I can steal? The boys mentioned something about Namjoon and art?”

“Namjoon is art. In that he's beautiful and unbelievable, but also that he is interested in anything and everything art-related - museums, galleries, exhibitions, and all that crap. And fitness, so… there’s that,” Jin says, instantly regretting his words at the memory of Namjoon working out, grateful for remembering his friend’s most unenjoyable hobby to move on to. “Oh, he actually hikes! He meditates in the mountains like a wise old man afterwards. Hoseok likes dance, of course, but he also loves fashion. Yoongi likes fishing and drinking with me only,” Jin emphasizes, having always been proud and appreciative of the fact that he’d been the only one who was ever able to get Yoongi to join in on another’s hobby. “By himself, Yoongi plays basketball.... he’s studying, he plays tennis, fencing, he reads, produces, he scrapbooks, he gardens, he runs, he gardens, he flies, he soars! He actually might be Superman.”

You roll your eyes, prompting Jin to explain. “Sorry, inside joke with the boys. Yoongi does so much and is so secretive about it all that I wouldn’t be surprised if all of that is true. But he’d say he’s Batman rather than Superman, actually. I’m Superman… right?”

Jin places his hands on his hips, buffing out his chest and glancing at you through his periphery, hoping his extra hours at the tennis court paid off whenever you'd had an art or fitness session with the boys. He had to know if you saw him as such, as some type of Superman… especially after the countless times you’d trained with Jungkook and Jimin. Though he tried to push the thought away, the image bit at him, even now when was messing around. A seed of something he couldn't quite name...

When your hands are on his shoulders, trailing down his chest, he begins to relax. Even more so when you use his fork to finally take a bite of the dinner he’d prepared. Perhaps he’d been too worried.

“Well, we both know I don’t need saving, but I’ll play along, my handsome Superman. This Lois Lane wants to meet and investigate the interests of the rest of your Justice League, baby.”

“Okay,” Jin murmurs. “Who should we start with?”

“Namjoon? Hey, he’d probably be Aquaman, huh? Same nature shit, apparently, and definitely the same body.”

Perhaps he hadn’t been too worried.

+

to: prince charmjin [9:02am]: i am texting you from the beyond. from the spiritual realm.

to: prince charmjin [9:03am]: come climb up this fucking mountain and bury your girlfriend she’s dead and hates her life and didn’t pack enough water

to: prince charmjin [9:03am]: you’ll know the way, my blood, sweat, and tears left a trail

to: prince charmjin [9:04am]: i gotta admit it’s pretty tho (1 image attached)

Knew it.

Jin was rarely a smug man, but he couldn’t help but indulge in the feeling when he’d woken up to your texts and later when you trudged into the apartment, resigning from a hiking day with Namjoon and swearing you’d never do it again. He guessed you’d hate every second of it but didn’t want to hold you back from your mission and trying something new. His pride is quickly squashed, however, when you follow up the sentence with a declaration that he’d invited you to the opening of an art exhibit the very next day.

“I’m his VIP guest, honey,” you cheer, kissing Jin on the cheek. “And I’m going to the afterparty too so you can have a boy’s night - call your grandpa friends! Oh, it’ll be past their bedtime, won’t it?”

He forces a chuckle. “I hate that that’s true. Plus, I’ve seen way too many people this week, so I’ll game til the early hours of the day - just like I did when I was single.”

Jin hates that the thought had left his lips. It was honest, he had missed his gaming marathons when he never had someone to go to bed to, but it was cruel to mention. He hated the idea that some part of him meant it as such, as a signal, a cry, anything… you never said such words or guilted him when he’d been busy. It was spiteful, it wasn’t like him…. or was it?

“Oh, great! I know you used to love those game-a-thon things. I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t realize you stopped because of me. I hope you know you can do those at any time, okay? I won’t mind.”

Something turned in Jin’s stomach. The seed of what he could only label as worry was now an undeniable pit at his very core.

He should be ecstatic at the fact that you were so accepting of him possibly spending an ungodly amount of hours gaming… but it was too accepting. A smile was on your face, but for the first time in your relationship, Jin couldn’t read what it was - as though a sudden, unknown filter stood between you. Was it temptation? An unthinkable impulse he sensed on your end... Joy, relief, or freedom? Perhaps it was, Jin couldn't tell. It ate at him now, and instead of surrendering, he fought with what he had left.

This… this was the least he could do for you, he told himself, thinking of all the ways he came up short as a boyfriend where others succeeded.

He replayed the image over and over again - the way your eyes light up after every acquired skill or hobby. Your subsequent, beautiful smile seemed like the only thing he could hold on to, keeping aside the anxieties surrounding the reasons behind it. It had to be reminder enough. Seeing you happy made him happy. He knew that…. but he also knew that something dark festered within him. He didn’t like it… he didn’t like it all…

+

to: y/n [5:30pm] on my way home

to: y/n [5:35pm] just got here… where are you?

to: y/n [6:01pm] are you working out?

to: y/n [6:02pm] hey?

Jin needed to blow off some steam.

Gaming didn’t work. The incompetent online players he was paired with only infuriated him further, and the shot he took only made his heart race faster. He thought to spend some time in the kitchen, but he couldn’t help but overthink, indecisive over whether to cook dinner for the two of you or just for himself. When a thought came to mind - to cook something you’d hate just to spite you for not answering his texts and calls with no prior warning or explanation - he quickly discarded the whole idea. He wasn’t hungry anyway.

A best friend would do, he figured.

When it came to opening up, he could only ever trust his younger friends - the ’grandpas’ as you liked to call them, often gave him outdated advice he never cared for. Plus, they didn’t know him like the boys did - since they now know you as well, Jin figured it was the best-case scenario. Surely, they’d have something to say.

But another hour passes, and still, none of Jin’s messages were seen or answered. The younger boys hadn’t answered when he’d asked if they knew of your whereabouts, and the older ones didn’t answer his calls or texts to talk. His skin began to crawl…

until he remembered the failsafe. Out of everyone, Hobi was the only person who still revealed his live location on a social media app to his friends. It was something Jin in particular scolded him for, knowing it was a safety breach, but now, he was thankful for it.

Of course, he’s still at the damn dance studio.

+

Is that…?

Chills shiver down Jin’s body the second he hears the music through the studio’s walls. It’s a song he knows too well… and so do you.

Following the music with long and forceful strides that echo through the corridors, Jin bursts open the door to Hoseok’s own practice room. And his stormy intrudance is proven to be justified.

In front of the mirror were you and Hoseok, dancing too close together to a song from Jin’s secret sex playlist, surrounded by the rest of the boys, watching closely and making teasing noises that shook his very core.

“YA!”

Jin’s voice booms throughout the spacious room, overtaking the loud music playing through every speaker. The group scatters, every person with a horrified look on their face…. yours hurt the most.

Rage was unfamiliar to Jin. He didn’t know what to do with it, feeling it then and there. One would normally shout or yell, question and guilt, as he’s seen and studied before… but his lips were frozen in a frown. He wondered if it was common for one to cry out of fury, though no tears streamed down his face… he knew how to hold them back. His senses confused him, distorted, forced to venture into uncharted territory. Jin could hear differing calls of “Hyung” and what must’ve been excuses as someone turned off the music - all muffled and intelligible. Through it all, he could hear only the soft call that left your lips amidst the chaos, “Jin, my love…”

With his eyes still fixated on you and the words that ease his sole, the knot within him came undone.

His throat throbs and everyone knew what it meant, though no one was close enough to see the pools in his eyes.

“Everyone leave,” you command, and the room is empty save for you and Jin within seconds.

The downpour starts. Though his face was frozen cold, Jin’s body allowed him to move, and all he could do was pace the studio and ignore your small steps toward him. When he finally stops, you’re close enough to stand before him, your head no longer hung so low. The guilt on your face was almost enough to make Jin forget his feelings.

“….I’m so sorry, my love,” you say after a moment’s silence. His lips tremble at the words, wanting to refute them… he doesn’t need to say it for you to understand.

His breath is hitched when he sees your hand extend towards his face, which he tilts just as he always would when you did this. He exhales as you do when you cup his face so gently, moving to your touch as his tears are wiped away. But when your hand brushes over his mouth, he can’t bring himself to purse his lips into a kiss as he always would. The dark seed within him still tugged him back from fully diving in.

“Sit for a moment?” you ask, and he nods, feeling his knees giving way as you lead him to the two weirdly placed chairs by the giant mirror wall in Hoseok’s studio. While you sit with your side to the back of the chair to face him better, he slumps against the hardwood backing, staring at the ceiling as his eyes dry up so he can finally face you once again.

“I can’t talk much. I.. what is this? What am I?” he mumbles with a strained voice, pushing the skin at his temples. “Fuck… I’ve tried rehearsing this, and even then, the words just didn't come out. I can't put a name on it, but I don’t like what’s been happening. All of it. No… No, not all of it.” Jin breathes deeply before continuing. “My girlfriend is never around, and not only that, she spends all her time with my best friends… without me. I know you’re on your journey for more self-discovery and that you really like the boys, so I feel like a piece of shit for feeling this way and for saying this, but… fuck, I’m... I'm angry.”

Jin sees you take in his words, brushing away a couple of runaway tears. “I understand. You have every right to be pissed,” you repeat. “I… shit, I’m sorry, Jin. I never meant to exclude you, my love. The boys don’t either… but that doesn't excuse it... It doesn't." You go stone cold, as though you were replaying the time that's passed over and over in your head. "Will you allow me to talk for a little while? Can I… unpack it all on my end?”

How could he not? Jin nods.

“I learned a whole lot on this 'quest’ which started with your support, I may add - and I’m not blaming you here. I’m thanking you, honey… You’ve been incredible.”

Already, Jin starts feeling sick, hearing the words of a definite breakup speech and knowing that he was the furthest thing from incredible. His friends were. All he can do is watch, now looking at his fingers as he bites his own nails on an unsteady hand.

"Most guys would never even suggest to their girlfriend the idea of her hanging out with his friends - alone. I'm so grateful, honey, and not only that, it actually might be one of the sweetest, most attractive things you've ever done..."

H-huh? Jin tugged at his own sweater, thinking of the possible ways you'd get to the end of your speech and the conclusion that stated what he ultimately feared - that the attraction, or worse, the love, wore off with all you were left with.

“But most of all, I'm grateful. I'm different. I probably wasn't around that much for you to see, but... on this quest, it was as though I unlocked parts of myself I didn't know I had. That was a past version of me, the girl who was in an eternal reading slump, and was too scared to do much else but stay in that slumpish cocoon... I love my cocoon and staying in, don't get me wrong, but I just have more things that give me joy. I feel more certain of myself - like more of that confidence you rubbed off on me. It seems trivial, I know, but everything... everything helped."

You were right. Jin hadn't seen any of it - the rewards of your quest. He cursed himself, knowing he could have if he only paid attention, recalling warped memories of your pride and new experiments. He didn't have to take your word for it, seeing some of it now. You were more sure of yourself. Bold. Happier. That one note settled it - if this grand speech were to end the way he had expected, all that mattered was that. That you were happier.

"That's good," he croaks. "I'm proud."

"I'm proud of myself, too," you nod. "I am the slightly more improved version of myself I knew I could be. Maybe I could be even better, I don't know... but through it all, I kept repeating to myself the same phrase, over and over again. 'You’re enough. You’re always more than enough. Just the way you are. You’re good. You’re great. You’re beautiful. I love you.' Those words... that's what kept me going more than anything."

Jin's breath is hitched when he's finally able to look at you so directly, at the woman he loved with his entire being, quoting his own words. He had meant every word then, prior, all throughout, and would for eternity. If those simple words were enough to help, though he was certain they were not enough to capture the depth of his love, he had served his purpose in life.

"I was entirely motivated by self-love and your love for me, Seokjinnie. I fucking love you," you exhale, and Jin does too, coming undone. All he could do was hang his head low as the tears instantly return, and in seconds, you're at his knees, reaching for him. Like he'd foolishly been dreaming of...

"I don't deserve you. I've been so... so..." his low voice trails off.

"My love, let me finish, hmm? It'll help," you whisper, trying to hold onto any piece of him, and Jin lets you, feeling a rush through his very soul at him being called as such by you. He just hoped he wasn't awaiting more cushioning for a devastating blow... even so, it was one he was now reminded to fight for.

"I have to talk about the boys. I obviously enjoy the hobbies I do with the baby boys - you remember when I told you how I love how strong I feel now? How I feel creative for the first time since high school? That holds up, and in truth, the boys are just angels. I developed such a close friendship with Jiminie, Taehyungie, and Jungkookie that I don't think I can let that go. I just adore them…. and so much so that I’ve been trying to set them up with the girls - Nana, Kiki, and Mina.”

A breath escapes Jin, his fingers stroking his chin. It made sense, he thought. Nana and Taehyung in particular would be perfect together…

“I know you’re closer with the older boys, and I haven’t forgotten them. Namjoon is very cool, but… pretty much none of what he likes works for me. Hiking is as bad as fishing, no offense, and art is only fun when we’re mindlessly having fun in the studio. Otherwise…” You scrunch your nose at the thought, shaking your head violently in disapproval - the endearing act that never fails to make him giggle, even now. “The only reason we keep in touch is to talk books, which… you know I’ve always liked,” you explain.

Jin nods. You and Namjoon’s reading speeds always made him feel like a third-grader. You’d sooner finish reading a 700-page book than learn how to make a simple grilled cheese sandwich - Namjoon was the same. In a world where most people were not as such, at least you two clumsy nerds know of each other, he thought.

“Dancing was… always on my list of things to try, believe it or not. You were there when I brought it up to Hoseok,” you recall the interaction you’d had weeks ago, and so does Jin, who had been so taken aback at your suggestion to Hoseok, having assumed you’d want fashion or social media advice from his savvy friend. You’d never danced sober more than simply swaying, even on the most private occasions… there was never any reason for him to know dancing was always a thing you’d wanted to try... but then again, perhaps the 'new you' had been buried too deeply. But it took guts to ask Hoseok - he knew you knew that as well - the sheer courage and confidence that must've settled in only recently….

“But…. I pretty much told him that I didn’t want him to teach me anymore after the first lesson. He’s like… really fucking scary, Jin, holy shit. I know you've mentioned it, but I didn’t think he was capable of being like that! I thought he was going to kill me!” Another giggle escapes him at your shock. If you had simply run the idea by him, he’d have told you that already, he thinks to himself, as he did after your hike with Namjoon, but he chooses to say it out loud this time. “Oh, lesson learned, believe me, honey. I passed it off as me wanting a female instructor, which I do. Because well….I couldn’t tell Hoseok I wanted to learn burlesque dancing now, could I?”

“Bur-burlesque?!” Jin says, leaning forward as if it’d make him hear any better.

“Mhmm….” The faint, smug smile on your face calmed his heart - it’d been a while since he’d seen you as such - but it did nothing to calm his mind. Just the mental image of you…. “And pole dancing too. I keep telling my instructor that I want to surprise my boyfriend, so she helped me come up with some choreography involving… things you like.”

Jin’s excitement fades when he remembers - the song. “Was that what you were showing the boys?! When I walked in….”

“As if. That’d be for your eyes only, honey. When you walked in, we were just teasing Jimin about something stupid. The song just came up on shuffle.”

Jin shakes his head and stands up to pace the room, replaying the scene once again and scolding himself. Once again, it’s as though you can read his thoughts. “It probably looked odd from your angle…”

“Why was everyone there? Wait, was that Yoongi in here too?” It’d taken Jin this long to realize Yoongi had been present as well. Save for the makeshift therapy session Jin had wanted to have earlier in the day, he had been trying to schedule appointments with Yoongi all week - a needed fishing trip and a work meeting, but his friend only ever answered when Jin had been fast asleep. Had Yoongi been here for Hoseok? Jimin?

“My day started with Yoongi,” you sigh.

You?! The one person who knew of his desperate attempts to get to Yoongi?! he thought, so shocked he had to sit down, opting for the space on the floor in front of you instead of the chair.

”No secrets, especially since I’m laying everything out today. It was my first time hanging out with Yoongi, just so you know. I wanted to pick out a good anniversary gift for you since that’s coming up, and we went shopping for all these fancy liquors. Then, he was just meant to drop me off here at the studio, and after my lesson, I found out he just stayed since Hoseokie was already here in the other room with Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung. And Namjoon… he was just here, I guess. Actually, I think he’s hiding that he’s dating one of Hoseok’s dancers. The boys seemed to tease him about it?”

“Oh shit, good. He’s always had a crush on her,” Jin smiles to himself. It starts out as happiness for his dear friend, knowing how deeply Namjoon’s affections could run, and when the crush began. It was right at the start of Jin’s own relationship with you. At that time, for the first time in over a decade, Jin finally understood his friend. Namjoon loved love. He got so caught up in the idea and complexities of love, talking endlessly about how it’s the center of the universe, tying everything together. “It is science,” Jin would always rebuff until he couldn’t. Until he understood. He wasn't going to forget any of it again - not even for a second.

And once again, the woman he loved cups his face, searching his watery eyes, and kneeling on the floor in front of him.

"….Did you ever feel this way?"

You consider his words and think over yours. "Angry? A little jealous? ....Lonely? If that's what you've been feeling... Yes, sometimes."

“Then you don’t have to be sorry, my love. I’m sorry I got angry more than anything.  I… didn’t like that. That wasn’t me…. was it?”

“Not the usual you, but it’s the human you. It’s within reason… I never saw you get jealous before, which is a green flag since I know you trust me - as you should! And I trust you! But still, as someone who gets jealous over you often… it weirdly reassured me, I guess? That you still want me.”

“…. Wait, you get this often?!” Jin blinks.

“Honey, I feel jealous whenever anyone follows their urge to say you’re handsome, which is very often. I always wish I could answer with ‘AND HE’S MINE’ and giggle like a little leprechaun who's hoarding a pot of gold all for himself,” you say with a tone so serious it makes Jin erupt in his signature dolphin-noise laugh for the first time that night.

“I’m always yours! And I always want you! Honey… this is a dark feeling. How do you deal with it often…. I… I never want to feel this way ever again,” he exhales, tugging on the fabric of your top before your hand covers his.

“I deal with it because you always remind me that you’re mine and I’m yours, like you did just now. Because you make sure I know you love me. I… I try. I promise I’ll try harder, my love.”

“No, honey, you do more than enough. I know you love me. I do. I was just… blinded, I guess, which I fucking hate. I… I thought I’d be stronger, better than to fall into this stupid mental rut.”

“You’re human. You’re my human,” you smile, hand slowly trailing down Jin’s cheek but lingering your touch over his pursed lips. Jin’s hands find your waist, and your arms immediately wrap themselves over his shoulders. When your racing hearts calm together in sync, and your breathing follows, the world falls into place and both of your meaningless defenses yield. Your bodies and spirits rest against one another, tired, aching, and longing. Jin wanted just this. To keep you close, for all eternity, if he could… if you’d wanted the same. He’s reassured when his attempt to tighten his embrace falls short, realizing how closely you’ve been holding him in turn. It was physically impossible to be any closer, and still, it wasn’t enough. Exhaling against you, with a hand somewhere in your hair at your back and the other holding your head, his senses overwhelm him once again. It’s too much, the love he’d felt at that moment. Dreamlike, even when he notices that his hand had been lying right over your bra strap. And he remembers even more.

“So… burlesque, huh?” Jin smirks.

“What do you think the chairs are here for?” Turning, Jin’s jaw drops when sees the two now-empty chairs. He tries to hide his excitement by covering his face when he sees you, sure it is red already.

“Oh, with a reaction like this, I’m definitely keeping it as a hobby then. I’m good at it too,” you smile, brushing his hair. “It’ll be good and all for you, baby. Painting random shit and fitness has been fun, especially with the younger ones, and burlesque will be for the both of us. But! My quest is not over, and my introverted self is not fulfilled just yet. I still have crocheting, writing, blogging, and photography to try out. I want something that’s entirely mine.”

“I promise that I support you with trust, love… always,” Jin thinks over his words, fidgeting with his fingers.

“And…I’m…..entirely yours,” he says quietly, a smile finally fixed on his face.

“And I’m yours,” you say with a smile, finally pulling Jin into a kiss that he can’t help but melt into. It’s soft, quick pecks and affectionate murmurs until you straddle his lap. Suddenly, it’s as though your entire mature conversation and successful attempt at communication never happened, and you replayed it all then and there. He reaches for you, pulling you down and onto him until you gasp. At that, Jin’s hand at your nape pushes you into his kiss, and you let him. He bites at your lower lip, moaning when you’re quick to do the same back, yet his sounds grow louder when he lets you passionately kiss him all over. In a fight for stability, he grabs onto the nearby chair and breaks away so suddenly.

“The - the damn boys are still here. I think I heard something break in the corridor - it’s either Namjoonie or Jiminie.”

You open your mouth to say something but don’t, looking at Jin instead. “If they’ve been trying to eavesdrop and want the gist of it, how would you like it if I fake moaned your name a bit too loudly so they know I’m yours and only yours?”

“It doesn’t have to be fake, though, does it?” he asks, leaning back on his elbows and lying in wait, positioned in front of the mirror. Seeing a turn in your gaze seconds before you pounce on top of him, Jin is electrified. Your name leaves his lips and his yours, not just as a moan but a promise. A quest of his own. To make you happier and happier for as long as he lived and more. To find a new way to love you every single day. You deserved as many as the universe had to offer.

[hawkinsindiana]

i got you, i’m here

ALMOST PARADISE: PART FOUR - CHAPTER THREE OF NINE

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 6.6k

a/n: alllllllrighty we’re backkkkk. the next chapter releases should be more consistent bc there’s less i have to write and we start gettin to the realllll meat of this thing so it’s all super exciting. miss ruby tossed in some things for this as well so a lil shout out to her as always. pls enjoy!!! time for some angst hehe. warning for graphic description of violence.

masterlist

You’ve run the plan through your head at least a billion times — the only plus side to your anxious mind making a reappearance. Even with Steve’s arms cradling you close in the night, you weren’t able to get much sleep; you suspect he wasn’t resting either. 

The past few hours have been spent thinking through every technicality, every problem you could encounter. Each time a new issue arises in your hypotheticals, you grow more hopeless. What if you can’t get into the Upside Down? None of you that are left in Hawkins have a way to communicate with the other side. You don’t want to rely on El, but contacting her and the Byers might be the only chance you have against this new threat. Finding a way into the parallel dimension is the hard part; killing Vecna will be much easier — or so you’ve convinced yourself.

While your feelings on Eddie have remained neutral since discovering him last night, you can’t help but feel some sympathy for the guy. The moment this town hears that ‘The Freak’ is the number one suspect, accused for murdering sweet innocent Chrissy Cunningham, his life in Hawkins is over as he knows it. Munson might as well consider leaving the county, maybe even the state if he’s able. Indiana hicks are not known for their skills of forgiveness; he’ll be burned at the stake if they catch him.

But more concerningly, Chrissy is no longer the only victim.

Part of you was shocked to see Nancy Wheeler standing behind all the yellow tape, amongst the police officers and the alternating red and blue of the sirens long silenced. Then again, she almost looked like she belonged there, investigating a case for the local paper as if she was born to do it. You thought that’s what she was there to do, until you saw that fear in her eyes and the relief that replaced it upon seeing your group drive up.

You didn’t know Fred Benson and you’re not proud to admit that you’re glad you didn’t. Something about him always struck you as odd, overeager in the way that got under your skin and nosier than he ever had any right to be. That being said, there’s no doubt that his final moments were torturous — he didn’t deserve a death that cruel.

But as you stand in the dimly lit office of the high school counselor, your thoughts aren’t centered around Fred Benson, no. It’s Max who worries you, loose flyaways curling into an amber halo around her head while she recalls her theory, voice and lips trembling with fear at her realization; she believes she is Vecna’s next target. A vision of a grandfather clock wedged into the wall only confirmed it for her.

“Max, you’re not…” You trail off, arms firmly crossed over your chest as your eyes drift from her to the floor. The jumble of thoughts inside your head is making it difficult for you to comfort her in a time like this; you’re not sure whether you should be terrified or furious. Terrified that Vecna would come after a little girl, barely fifteen, solely with the intention of killing her. Furious that it’s your friend and her trauma that makes her a perfect candidate. Vecna will find out that choosing Max means he’ll be on the receiving end of your rage — he’ll regret that soon enough.

“You’re not cursed, okay? It’s gonna be fine, we’ll… we’ll figure something out, yeah? We’re gonna get you out of this, I promise.”

Everyone can hear the lie in your words. You can’t promise Max her safety, even though there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to guarantee it. Steve can’t tell if you’re saying this to quell your own anxiety or the redhead’s. You and Max are very similar — your bond strengthened by traumatic experiences that are only understood by each other, intertwined due to the actions of one individual. If there’s anyone that can help Max through this, it’s you.

In an effort to keep her safe, the group of you decided that staying together from now on is the best call. Not only can all of you take turns watching over her in the late hours of the night, but it gives you an opportunity to plan. Now you have the lives of Max and Eddie to be worried about, for dramatically different reasons.

Lucas’ concern for Max was palpable the moment he joined your efforts. After many hours of drooping eyelids and anxiety filled breaths, he finally slumped against the back of the armchair and let sleep overtake him. Your heart breaks for the Sinclair boy as you recall that conversation on your last day before college, where he had come to you in search of advice. Part of you wonders if what you told him even worked. Maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation now if it had. Max has only spiraled farther into her grief over the last few months — would she have been able to overcome this if either of you had done more?

—

Your ears are filled with buzzing from the fluorescent lights overhead; your head… god your head aches. The constant noise filtering through the room doesn’t help, wedging inside your brain and splitting it open with an icepick. Then your eyes open, the intent of going to search for something to deal with this pain fresh in your mind until you realize where you are.

The Russian interrogation room. 

Everything’s exactly the way you remember it, almost as if you’re reliving a memory. Your hands are bound in the same fashion they were before, tied to the sides of the chair. The table in the corner is there, the extra chair, the large and looming door — it opens.

The next sequence of events plays out the same way it had before. The multitude of questions, the rush of adrenaline as you made your attempt to escape, the two bullets fired from the gun.

But this is the moment where it begins to drift from reality.

Instead of the soldier’s body collapsing heavily on top of you, it’s Steve — blood trails from the wounds in his face that you put there, pouring out onto your clothes and staining the fabric. His brown eyes are unnaturally cold and unresponsive as your own gaze widens in shock and horror.

The rubber of your sneakers squeak against the tile floor; you’re panicking, scrambling out from beneath Steve’s weight to press yourself to the wall behind you. His head, continuing to bleed, thunks against the ground. 

You’re dripping with blood. Every inch of skin from the tips of your fingers to the bend of your elbow is coated in the warm, thick liquid. You turn your arms over in your hands, staring at the sight with nothing but pure fear threaded through your veins. You rub your arms against your pants, desperate to remove the blood from your skin. 

You’re sobbing uncontrollably, almost scratching yourself raw as you struggle to rid yourself of the red stain — Steve’s body grows cold in front of you. The blood refuses to budge. No matter how hard you rub, nothing transfers to the fabric.

You wake with a jolt, momentarily out of breath while your gaze darts around the room. As you adjust to the dim space, only illuminated by a singular lamp in the far back corner, you finally recognize the familiar sight of the Wheeler’s basement. Your throat tightens as you swallow harshly, squeezing your eyes back shut for a moment to try and force the haunting images from your brain. You don’t remember falling asleep.

It’s been sixty four days since you last had a nightmare. That’s the longest you’d gone without one in over two years. You haven’t had that particular dream in some time — Steve replacing the Russian as the victim of your crime. The first time you had it was your second week away; you hadn’t managed to return home to Hawkins yet and the fear that something happened to your love while you were gone almost tore you apart. 

Steve nearly drove to Chicago to see you that night — the way your voice trembled over the phone had him reaching for his keys across the counter. He couldn’t stand the thought of only comforting you with his voice. It didn’t matter that it was a bit past midnight when you called and the trip would’ve been four hours in total; Steve would’ve done it in a heartbeat if you asked.

You lied to him then. You couldn’t bear to speak those words out loud and tell him what you had really seen. So you lied, and you did it every time that dream decided to torment you, and you’ll continue to do so. You never want to see the look on his face upon hearing that you’ve had visions of killing him with your own two hands.

“Hey, you okay?”

Dustin’s voice, hushed from the other end of the couch, reaches you through the darkness. The gasp that escaped you when you woke snapped his attention from the book in his hands, his finger wedged in between the pages to keep his place. He took watch after Steve, who’s been sleeping on the floor beside you for the better part of an hour; you fell asleep long before that. 

Your breaths are shallow but even, not an unusual phenomenon for you to experience after one of your nightmares. Before focusing on deepening your inhale, you answer him, “Fine. M’fine.”

In regards to your feelings, Dustin’s a lot smarter than you give him credit for. After that night at the Byers’ and in the tunnels beneath Hawkins, he noticed your late wandering around the house, the creak of his door as you’d peek into his room to check up on him. Ever since then, he’s assumed that you experience nightmares, but this confirms it. He doesn’t appreciate your deflection. 

You’re shrugging off the blanket as you sit up, still forcing deep breaths through your nose as Dustin’s concern only grows, “Are you s-”

“I’m okay, I’m fine,” You interrupt, carefully stepping over Steve’s waist. Before your brother can argue, you’re making your way to the small bathroom behind the stairs, too far to be spoken to without waking the others. 

Dustin can’t help but feel a bit angry once the door shuts on its hinges. His stomach feels like it’s in knots, but that could be due to the multiple cans of soda he’s downed over the last two hours. You’re his older sister — he wants to be someone you feel like you can come to when something’s bothering you. After all, it is sort of his fault that you’re wrapped up in this craziness. The Wheeler’s basement serves as a sobering reminder of that November night; Dustin might not be sitting with this unpleasant feeling if he hadn’t called you, squashing the possibility of you having a normal life ever again.

If Dustin were able to go back in time and prevent himself from involving you, knowing what he knows now, he might do it.

Then his gaze shifts to the boy that sleeps next to where you once were — the boy who loves you enough that as long as he still gets to sleep beside you, will willingly lay on the carpet instead of waking you and asking to make room for him.

If Dustin were able to go back in time and prevent himself from involving you, knowing what he knows now, he doesn’t think he could do it.

He’d be taking you and Steve from each other if he did. Who knows where either of you would be if you hadn’t been given the opportunity to fall in love? That’s an outcome Dustin doesn’t want to consider.

On the other hand, your bond is strong enough that you still might’ve found each other in the end. Maybe the love you and Steve share is a constant throughout the infinite number of parallel universes that exist somewhere in the cosmos. He likes to think of it that way. Not that he’d ever tell either of you that. Perhaps there’s a world out there where neither of you had to go through all of this in order to fall in love; maybe you two get to live in peace.

But in this universe, it’s the horrors of Hawkins that brought you together. 

With a sigh, Dustin comes to a conclusion; there’s no one more equipped to take care of you than Steve. 

With your fingers now chilled from the cold water, you press them to your face — another grounding technique you adopted over the last few months. Accompanied by some deep breaths, the combination does wonders to help calm you down. Even though you still see flashes of the dream when you blink, you understand that it’s not real; Steve’s just beyond the door, fast asleep and lost in some dream of his own. There are worse things you should be scared of right now. 

You cup your hand and let the water pool in your palm, watching intently as it collects until nearly running over. Carefully, you raise your hand to your mouth and gulp down the water, exhaling as you feel the cold liquid travel down your throat. The stale flavor of the tap then reaches your tongue and you’re grimacing from the taste before shutting off the faucet. You don’t know what time it is, but you can tell you didn’t sleep for long; your body is slightly sluggish as you dry your hands.

When you finally gather the courage to exit the bathroom, and no doubt be bombarded with questions from your brother, you’re met with a far more welcome sight instead. Steve’s on the other side, his knuckles raised like he was about to knock on the door. At the sight of you, he rests his hand against the door jam and leans forward with worry, caging you inside. Sleep is still present in his voice, low and raspy enough that he has to cough in order to speak.

“What’s the matter? What happened?”

Robin stirs behind him, adjusting her pillow in her sleep as she turns, taking up the empty space that was meant for Max. The redhead pays no mind to either you or Steve, lost in thought on the other side of the room as she stares down at something, a pen carefully held in her grip. Steve casts his gaze to the older girl and waits for a moment to see if she woke.

When his eyes meet yours once again, you can’t help but slouch dejectedly, immediately giving in to his concern. Your heart sinks; you must have been louder than you thought if you woke Steve. Usually he can sleep through anything.

Your voice, in comparison to his, is much quieter — you’re ashamed of what you admit.

“Nightmare.”

Your boyfriend sighs, his tired eyes roving over your face as he allows the meaning of your confession to roll over him. You were doing so well. He doesn’t have to ask to know that this relapse is going to hang over your head for a while.

The events of the past couple of days must be affecting your subconscious more than he thought. He should’ve noticed that.

One of Steve’s hands reaches for your waist, fingers curling around your sweater to gently guide you forward. He flicks off the light as you exit and leans in to press a soft kiss to your hairline. The moment you register his touch, that anxious feeling immediately disperses — the warmth of his palm through the fabric quells the terrors that had been circulating in your thoughts. You move away just enough to slip your hand into his before Steve can take another step; his fingers squeeze yours tightly.

Carefully and quietly, Steve leads you back to the couch. Dustin’s since moved to lounge on the chair, his legs tossed over the armrest. All of sudden as you pass your brother, the realization slams into you — Dustin woke Steve for you. 

Steve grabs the pillow from the floor and sets it on top of the cushions. As he sinks onto the couch, he eases you down with him until both of you are laying on your side. It’s a bit of a tight fit with his chest pressed to your back, but all the more reason for Steve to wind his arms around your stomach to hold you firmly against him. You’re thankful for the squish the couch provides; it gives you the closeness you desperately need.

He sighs, the puff of air hitting your neck as Steve settles with his nose tucked behind your ear. Somehow he manages to tug you impossibly closer — you drape your own limbs over his, the pad of your thumb swiping across his forearm comfortingly.

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” Steve mumbles, shifting briefly to press his lips to the soft skin behind your ear, “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Your eyelids begin to droop as your breathing subconsciously matches his — deep, relaxing inhales and cleansing exhales. As you find yourself melting further into his embrace, you grow even wearier, exhaustion overturning the fear that used to be present. You almost miss when he speaks again as you begin to drift off.

“I got you, I’m here.”

It’s a promise — you can rest now.

—

The next day, it becomes painfully obvious that Max didn’t get any sleep. 

Not that you’re blaming her — you don’t think you’d be able to either, given the circumstances. You still have no clue how to break this ‘curse’ and you’re running out of time. By your estimate, you assume she has about five hours left before… before Vecna makes his move. 

“What are we supposed…” You mutter under your breath, just loud enough for Steve to catch your words. The pair of you are behind the stairs, far enough away so that no one else can overhear the worry and uncertainty in both of your voices. 

“What are we supposed to do, Steve? Just sit here and wait for something to happen to her? I won’t… I won’t do that.”

Nancy and Robin left for Pennhurst Asylum about thirty minutes ago, dead set on interviewing Victor Creel — a man who may be the first to encounter Vecna. The research that you, Robin, and Nancy collected at the library yesterday all seems to point in that direction. Hopefully he’ll know something about how to free Max from Vecna’s spell; it’s the only lead the group has.

But until then, you and Steve are taking the initiative to protect her. How you’re expected to do that continues to evade you. His eyes dart over your shoulder to land on the girl — she’s still jotting something down, the same thing she’s been doing since last night. Concerned, he places his hands on his hips, shifting nervously on his feet.

“I don’t know,” Steve admits quietly, “I don’t like the waiting game either.”

You’ve never had to play defense before; there’s always been a way for you to fight back and win. It feels odd to do nothing — unnatural for either of you to be without a plan of attack.

“We’re sure that Munson said he couldn’t see anything?” You whisper, “There was nothing else in the room with him?”

“He seemed pretty confident they were alone,” Steve shakes his head as he drags his focus back to you. Your arms are crossed over your chest, fingers tightly bunched in the fabric of your sweater. While your brow isn’t pinched, your face is wrought with worry and frustration as you wrack your brain for any piece of information that could be useful. Unfortunately, you come up short.

The protective instinct to keep the teens safe is burning inside both of you, an impulse so great that neither of you think you’d be able to resist the urge. While only one of them is tied to you by blood, that sibling-like bond is not easily broken. You’re family now, through and through.

“I hate to say this…” Steve begins, moving one of his hands to rest on your bicep. He looks a bit defeated but still finds the will to continue as he steps in closer, his voice remaining low and hushed.

“I-I think we just have to wait. I know it could be a really stupid idea but…” Steve sighs as his thumb instinctively strokes the scar beneath the fabric that clings to your arm. It forces your eyes to meet his, equally earnest and distraught as he trails off in thought.

“We just have to hope that Nancy and Robin will figure something out before anything bad happens.”

You sigh too, raising your hand to grip his forearm extended between you, locking both of you in each other’s hold. Steve steps in closer and his shoe nudges yours as he watches your expression grow more distraught, the corners of your mouth turning down in a frown. You hate this.

A noise passes your lips — something similar to a scoff. Steve can already sense the shift of your tone before you can speak.

“I really don’t like it when you’re right.”

Your faces brighten. Not enough for either of you to smile, but the playful lilt in your voice is a refreshing change of pace. A sparkle in the vibrant color of your irises — a familiar sight in between the discussions of mortal peril. No matter what happens, at least you know you’ll be able to count on each other. Both of you will do what you can to protect Max like she’s your own.

You shift your hands to Steve’s waist, tugging on the fabric of that stupid blue polo of his to pull him even closer to you. His large palms move to rest on your neck, his thumbs swiping across the line of your jaw. A hint of a grin shutters across Steve’s face for a moment.

“When all of this is over, you’re taking me to see our home.”

You blink once, your eyelashes fluttering as you look away from him for a moment. Our home — it sounds so beautiful in his voice, like the safest place in the world. Your chest fills with that golden feeling you’ve gotten used to when you’re around Steve and a smile finally pulls at your lips.

You nod when you bring your eyes back to him, your cheeks heating at the soft adoring expression on his face. It’s a silent promise that all of this will be worth it in the end. Your new chapter together is starting soon — the epiphany waiting for you that will make the pain worth it.

“C’mere,” He mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before wrapping you in a tight embrace. You take a deep breath as you nuzzle your nose into his shoulder, inhaling his comforting scent. The pair of you stand here for a moment, soaking up the reassuring touches and soft words exchanged before having to switch gears once again.

“It’s gonna be okay,” You whisper, trying to soothe the anxiety that’s crawled its way into your minds. You emphasize the sentiment with a kiss buried in the slope of his neck. Steve wishes everything but you and him would melt away; he’s only reminded of his desperation for normalcy when he’s forced to remove himself from you. He kisses your forehead — the final act of sympathy before your thoughts begin to wander.

Twisting to look over your shoulder, your worried gaze lands on Max.

You recognize a lot of your younger self in her, specifically the version of you that existed prior to Will’s disappearance. Back then… you didn’t have anyone. There was no one that you felt like you could talk to if something was eating away at you. In retrospect, that was all you needed. You know from experience how important it is to have someone to let in. First it was Nancy, and when that didn’t last it was eventually Steve. But you can pinpoint the moment your shoulders started to feel a little bit lighter; it all started with your friends.

While Steve returns to Lucas and Dustin, you approach the younger girl. It takes Max a moment to notice you at her side, too lost in her own head to recognize anything happening outside of her own body. Except for what she scribbles onto the pages scattered in front of her — she is intently focused on those. Instinctively Max tries to cover her writings, but you’ve already seen enough.

“Letters, huh?”

Max sends an uncertain glance between you and the papers; she can’t sense any hostility or condescension in your tone. Your curiosity is genuine. She shifts, fiddling with the pen in between her fingers, “Yeah.”

When you sit next to her, an arm placed on the shorter end of the desk to prop up your head, Max finds herself spitting out the rest of her answer — she couldn’t help it even if she tried.

“Just in case I don’t get to say it before…”

She forces her expression to become stony, pushing away any thoughts of Vecna; she already feels him buzzing in the back of her head. Max’s feet shuffle beneath the table, “Y’know.”

You nod, pressing your mouth into a fine line as your eyes rove over her and the contents on the desk. Max’s voice betrays her outward appearance — the small break in her throat lets you in on how worried she actually is. Her eyes are tired, but not in the way that you’d expect from someone who didn’t get any sleep. It births a new fear inside your chest; when Vecna tries to come for her, you think she might let him.

“That’s a good idea, yeah,” You say softly, lowering your voice enough so it can only be heard by the two of you. Even with your show of support, you don’t think there’s much more you can say to reassure her. If you couldn’t guarantee her safety yesterday, you’re certainly not going to be able to do so as she hurdles towards her death. Anything you say now would be an empty promise.

But one thing you do know, as the pair of you sit here in an uneasy silence, is that you might be able to help her in more ways than one.

“Have Dustin or I ever told you about our dad?”

Max’s eyes shift back to you. There’s a wrinkle above your brow and a sadness in your voice that she doesn’t recognize — like digging up an old memory that stings. She shakes her head. You swallow harshly, removing your arm from the desk to cradle both your hands in your lap. 

“He, uh…” You stop yourself, searching for the courage to speak the next few words out loud. After another second, your gaze spacing out on the floor in front of you, you finally find it.

“He left us. Walked right out.”

A small scoff passes your lips; Max watches as your jaw tightens, fingers intertwining with each other, “He didn’t want a family. And it was obvious. Hell, I could tell that he didn’t want the three of us and I was young. Ten, eleven at the time.”

“So… we were science fair trophies you could put on the shelf, nothing more than what we could do to make him look better. And I wanted him gone.”

Your voice doesn’t even waver. Even though you’re physically tense, you talk about him like this is normal, like you’ve just… accepted that this is what you had dealt with. Max shudders at that thought. This has been your story this entire time? She’s intently listening to you now, the letters long forgotten beneath her hands.

“I thought I was… the worst person for that. I shouldn’t hate my dad enough to wish he was out of my life, y’know? Some people don’t even get to have a dad. I tried to tell myself that I should be grateful. Worst of all, is that I actually…”

You laugh, averting your eyes from where they had been, darting up to the ceiling in disbelief, “I hated myself for feeling relieved when he finally left. But then I wasn’t walking around on eggshells anymore. I could… I could just live and be loved by the two people that I knew did.”

“That man… he’s a monster. The first one I ever knew.”

You’re staring down at the scar on your hand, forever etched across your skin in a horrific reminder of the boy that came after your father — two people so similar it’s a shock you ever considered allowing him into your life. But you were blinded by love; most people make their stupidest decisions when they are.

With a sigh, your voice finally softens, “And it took me a while to realize that the relief wasn’t a selfish emotion. It meant finally feeling safe enough to breathe, Max. It’s okay if you feel that. You’re allowed to be glad Billy’s gone, even if he was a part of your family.”

It’s Max’s turn to tense, her body growing uneasy at the mention of her step-brother. It’s unfair that you’re able to read her this well and instinctively know that her feelings regarding his death are more complex than meets the eye. Not even Lucas knows that. 

You lean forward, moving one of your hands to rest gently on her shoulder, “Just don’t be too hard on yourself. Because I can promise you that it gets better. I know it doesn’t seem like it but-”

Your gaze moves to the boys just in time to see Dustin toss a paper airplane right into Steve’s nose at point blank range. Lucas’ smile grows wide as he laughs, throwing his head back over the edge of the couch as Steve whines. He rolls up the newspaper he had been reading and slaps your brother with it, a resounding thunk throughout the room. You don’t have to finish your sentence for Max to understand. There is so much love for both of you in this room.

When you refocus on her with a wistful grin on your face, your grip on her tightens, “It’ll get better.”

Max lets out a deep breath as you finally stand — everything you just said is swirling through her head. She doesn’t know what to think or which part of your confession to focus on more. That ache inside her has settled a bit; not by much, but enough to know the difference. Before you can drift away, she’s speaking.

“Wait.” 

The girl shuffles through the envelopes on the desk, flipping through them before she finds the correct one. She gingerly holds it between her hands, staring down at the name scrawled across the front of it, and hesitantly passes it up — it’s addressed to you. Your brow pinches at the gesture, taking the letter from her as she shifts uncomfortably.

“Y’know… just in case.”

Her words, an echo from earlier, tug at your heart. You feel admiration and dread spread through your chest, a complicated bundle of emotions that makes your throat grow hoarse. A knot forms in the pit of your stomach — the urge to protect her from Vecna is even stronger.

— 

When everyone regroups later that night, the weight on your shoulders has been replaced by a different one.

The desperation you felt, clinging to Max’s shoulders as you attempted to free her from Vecna’s curse while the boys searched through the cassette tapes. The panic that filled your voice, shouting to the redhead while her glazed over eyes stared right through your soul. The relief you experienced when she woke, the four of you huddled over her in shock that Robin and Nancy’s idea had actually worked. The sadness that silently poured down your face as Steve drove, his hand fused to yours across the front seats with his eyes darting between the road and the girl behind him. 

You hope you never feel any of that ever again.

It still lingers as you sit here in the dark, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Steve at the base of the stairs. You both offered to take the first watch, letting the others get some rest after the eventful day behind you. It took some serious convincing to get Lucas to relax and assure him that nothing bad would happen to her while you and Steve were awake. That seemed to help; you think he finally fell asleep about twenty minutes ago. 

Surprisingly, Max was the first to nod off. She must’ve been so exhausted her body couldn’t help but succumb to sleep when it came knocking. You’re thankful for that at least. You kept your promise — you protected her. Why do you still feel so unsettled?

Maybe it’s because you would have lost Max if Steve hadn’t reacted so quickly. In the end, the margin of error was seconds; you were seconds away from watching her die in front of you. 

Or maybe it’s because the visions she explained are a type of fear you’re familiar with.

You don’t want to imagine what you’d see if you were in her shoes, far too many moments of guilt come to mind when you consider what Vecna would choose for you. Your mind is like a tasting platter of fear. You shudder involuntarily.

The thought of Vecna weaseling this way into your mind makes you feel this incredible sense of unease — you haven’t felt that in a long, long time. Who knows who he could choose next, which victim is being analyzed, dissected for his own personal enjoyment? Somehow, deep in your gut you know that it could be you.

You watched Max’s slow descent into anxiety. You saw her struggle to try and make amends with herself, to try and accept what she was feeling in order to push Vecna away. It mirrors your own experiences a bit too much. But instead of facing Vecna, you’ve been facing yourself.

You’d hate for anyone to feel the same for you. Glancing over to Steve, who sits silently beside you and lost in his own thoughts, you know the dread he would experience waiting for you to be taken. As much as it feels ridiculous to even consider such a thing, it’s not inconceivable.

Your lip stings from how hard you chew on it, but it’s barely noticeable with the storm of thoughts kicking up in your brain. It’s difficult not to think of the countless nightmares that have kept hours of sleep from you for the last couple years. A shiver passes through you at the latest one, the memory still fresh; the trigger that you pull that kills Steve.

The warm press of Steve’s arm, snaking over your shoulders and pulling you closer knocks you from your thoughts. You blink over at him, confused but welcoming of the closeness.

“You shivered,” He whispers, “Thought you might be cold.”

You can’t help but smile at the gesture but no words can help you form a reply. As if he can sense it, Steve squeezes you gently.

“What’re you thinking about?” 

His tone is light, words breezy and you hate that you’re about to ruin it with your anxious mind. But you and Steve are built on your honesty and if anyone can ease you, it’s him.

“Y’know what Max said about… how Vecna chooses his victims?” You begin slowly, coaxing Steve along your train of thought. The urge to hide yourself is too strong and you shift under Steve’s hold, pulling your legs up onto the step and tucking them against your chest. Your throat is already growing thicker but you swallow and keep talking.

“Those with trauma… w-with guilt.”

Steve whispers your name softly, his hand around you raising to rest on the back of your neck. His touch forces your eyes to meet through the darkness; you hope it keeps him from seeing the glaze of tears beginning to form and your quivering lip.

He turns closer to you as you speak those words, the damning ones that he knows are going to haunt you for the foreseeable future. It shouldn’t be a surprise to him that your mind would force you to entertain these ideas, but he finds himself taken aback by it anyways. 

You hate this because you can’t quite shake the fear that saying things like this aloud is like a prophecy; that you’re sealing your own fate by suggesting the concept to the universe. You wouldn’t be surprised if Vecna works in twisted ways like this. You curse yourself, feeling foolish for fueling that fear. 

“Just… I’m worried that-”

“Hey, hey,” Steve speaks softly so he doesn’t wake the others, scattered around you in various positions, “He won’t, okay?”

His other hand comes up, brushing a tear that managed to fall onto your cheek; it’s not as dark as you thought, “He’s gotta get through me first, y’know.”

His words make you chuckle lightly, sniffling as you straighten your back to gaze at him properly. Steve intertwines your hands as he continues, “Besides, we know what to do now. If he does…”

He pauses, regretting that he could’ve just fed into your fear instead of comforting you, and then sighs, “We’ll be ready. And you’d get away, just like Max did. He’d regret ever trying to kill you.”

Something in the sentiment, the genuineness in Steve’s voice lights a flame in your chest because this is Steve; you’ve never been so sure that if anybody has a fighting chance, it’s probably you. His shoulders relax a bit seeing some of the worry leave your face, even more so when you give a wry smile. 

“Sure you know my favorite song?” You whisper, that familiar teasing tone floating between you. Steve pretends to think about it for a moment, running over different memories in his mind. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” He muses, fingers tightening in yours, “Footloose is definitely a contender.”

You grin fondly, well aware of what memory he’s thinking of — the two of you parked up by Lover’s Lake in the blistering heat of the summer. Amazingly, you had discovered that Steve could, albeit poorly, show off all the moves from the film. You both had taken a dip and were soaking up the sun when it had come on the radio, a tad static-y out by the lake but Steve had tugged you into the swinging dance moves regardless. 

“I remember that,” You whisper back, lips twisting into a reminiscent smile. You nod as your thumb swatches along the back of Steve’s, “That was a good day.”

Steve nods too, his body filing with that now familiar, comfortable feeling you give him. He thinks about that day when you’re away; you had managed to swallow your guilt and let yourself be as happy as he had ever seen you. He wished he could show you what he sees in you without the sorrow of what you’ve done hanging over your head.

But that day? It was like nothing had changed.

“It was, wasn’t it?” He adds, shifting impossibly closer to you. 

In the darkness of the Wheeler’s basement, he can still see the heat rise to your cheeks, or maybe it’s the sparkle in your eyes that gives it away. Steve knows that as soon as all of this is over, he’ll whisk you off for some getaway, something to help your hearts heal. 

But until then, you’ll be forced to stay here with the others, praying that this’ll all be over soon. For both your sakes, you hope it doesn’t take long.

—

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[keigelsss]

Hard At Work - Kuroo Tetsuro

a/n: HERE IT IS!!!!! it’s really bad. i struggled. i just wanted to get it over with but this idea weighed heavily on my mind for so long and i cant seem to get it out the way i want so this is the bare minimum with what i was trying to go for sorry :/

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, timeskip!kuroo, dom!kuroo, language, teasing, literally half the fic is foreplay oops, smut, oral sex, unprotected sex (no glove no love y’all), kuroo smacks your ass once, sir kink?, SIZE KINK, belly bulge, overstim, squirting, creampie, as always my shitty writing. *thoughts in italics… if i forgot a warning pls lmk*

Summary: you never thought you’d find yourself in this situation, let alone with the man in charge of your paycheck. luckily those files weren’t that important.

word count: 4.7K

You’ve only been working in this position for about two months now, assistant to one of the smartest sports promoters in the country. It’s a wonderful job and you get to meet star athletes almost every day, but what wasn't in the job description was the super hot promoter that you would be working under literally. If you thought it was hard coming into work with someone so damn attractive, the amount of teasing that went on in and outside of the office was insufferable.

Your day began like every other; come in, bring Kuroo some coffee, a full list of the day's meetings and tidy up in his office. While setting the coffee on his desk, you anticipate what comment he’ll make about the lack of a baked good to accompany his beverage.

“Awe Y/n, looks like you forgot to bring something to munch on again,” he was currently going through emails while twirling a pen in his hand. That scheming smirk that you’ve come to recognize all too well plastered all over his smug face. 

“I’m sorry, Kuroo, they were all out at the café.” You placed your belongings on the small desk located in the corner of his office, spending some time to go over today's schedule as well as sort through a few contracts and client files.

“It’s all good,” he let out a soft chuckle. “You could always let me eat you instead, shortcake.”

You gave a pointed glare to the man before sighing and closing the file cabinet you just finished sorting. “I think it’s best if we get to work, we’ve got a long day ahead of us, sir.” he sends the smallest smirk in your direction then returns to his tasks. Shit... Did I mean to make it come out like that? Whatever he always teases the ever-living hell out of me so it's about time I had my share of the fun too, it’s only fair. Right?

Most of the day was uneventful, the typical routine coming and going without any interruptions. At around 4 pm though, you found yourself swamped with far more paperwork to go through than usual as well as having to scan and digitally file. We didn't have this many meetings today, did we? I just did a stack like this… Most of these need Kuroo’s signature, they shouldn't be on my desk.

Raising your head you shifted your gaze, letting your eyes land on him. He’s seated only ten feet in front of you behind his desk but today it seems like an entire mile. Did he always look that good going through his messages?

While gathering the papers that were wrongfully in your pile and saying a quick prayer to anyone out there, you walked over to sit in one of the matching seats opposite him. Placing the folder down softly to not mess up the flow of his work. He instinctively moves his elbow away to make room for the file and side-eyes it momentarily.

“Just give me two minutes here and I’m all yours sugar,” he says with a quick smile in your direction.

Humming your response and relaxing into the chair you take the time to admire his features. The messy but somehow put together hair that, according to his long-term clients and friends, has been that way since childhood. The sharp features of his cheeks and jaw, his pink lips permanently resting in his signature smirk that can mean an infinite number of things as you’ve come to find out. A muscular neck that is far too appealing for your taste, broad shoulders leading to strong arms, and an equally muscular chest. It’s no doubt that he is built like a god under that dress shirt, it fits him so perfectly it's almost offensive.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts of the man in front of you that you don't even notice how he moves his body, giving all his attention to you.

“Stare any longer sweet girl and you're gonna start drooling all over that cute outfit of yours.” His deep chuckle vibrates through you, definitely causing something to happen deep in the pit of your stomach. Your body was so hot and your throat was so damn dry from the way he was looking back at you. Is he undressing me with his eyes? Fuck! I’m one to talk, I’m doing the same thing.

“Uh it looks like some papers of yours got in my pile, if you can sign them, I’ll finish scanning and get out of your hair.” 

You sat up to hand him a pen then rest your palms against the desk. Those pieces of paper are the only thing separating the two of you and it helps you keep a grasp on reality for the time being.

He toyed with the edges of the folder, lifting just the corner, not even bothering to read over the contents. “Yeah, I put them there thinking it would keep you in the office just a bit longer but you caught on to my plan faster than I thought.” He met your gaze with a semi defeated smile.

“You thought I wouldn't notice at all? Kuroo, I thought you were supposed to be the mega genius here because I had just filed all of those this morning.” A sudden boost of confidence ran through your body and your hands found their way to the folder and started mimicking his previous action that, hopefully, would drive him just as crazy as it did you. Your cold fingers delicately traced above his watch then to his forearms, stopping right where he cuffed his sleeves. A small hiss escaped him through his teeth followed by an airy laugh.

“Call it an experiment.” You couldn't help but giggle at his response.

He suddenly moved back, completely reclining and relaxing in his chair. He went to loosen up the tie around his neck and even went as far as to open two buttons on the restricting shirt. Cheeky bastard.

Kuroo cleared his throat. Resting his elbow against the arm of his chair, chin resting in the palm of his hand. “I bet I can tell what you're thinking right now, shortcake,” he continued to roll his chair back slightly.

Without giving a second thought you moved around to his side of the desk, sitting and leaning on the end farthest from him. You conjured up the best comeback your normally shy and reserved self would never think of, but right now, it's war.

“Oya oya? Tell me, boss, what am I thinking right now?” you finally turned your gaze towards him, pulling off the most convincing innocent eyes you had.

He stood up from his seat, taking the slowest steps toward you and stood right beside your small body. His large hands are dangerously close to the edge of your skirt. If he could feel how hard your heart was beating in your chest you’d be done for. 

That contagious laughter of his booming throughout the room once more. He’ll never admit it but your teasing words sound a lot like him.

“Well if the way you're clenching the hell out of your thighs right now isn't the biggest sign.” His calloused fingers finally make contact with the exposed skin on your legs and slowly rise to trace the curves of your body. Finding a place to rest on your jaw with his thumb gripping your chin forcing you to look directly at him. “I’d say you're thinking of all the different ways I could make you cum on my desk,” his thumb began to slowly trace your lower lip.

You were barely aware of the small moan you let out while fluttering your eyes closed. “Let's say you're right Kuroo,” you nearly choked on the lack of saliva in your throat. “What else am I thinking?” your response barely above a pathetic whimper.

He let out a happy sigh as he placed his thumb between your lips, pressing slightly to signal you to open up. That sigh quickly turned into a small moan when you let your tongue slip from your mouth and wrapped your lips around the digit. Years of hard work and skill evident in the sensation of his thumb pressing against your tongue.

“You’re probably thinking about my cock filling every inch of your tight little pussy,” he moved to stand between your legs, his other hand finding residence on your hip and squeezing the clothed flesh possessively. “Or maybe you’re thinking you might just have the upper hand here because you caught on to my little trick,” he began to mess with the hook and zipper on the side of your skirt. Lowering the piece of flimsy metal agonizingly slow. 

“If that’s the case then you're seriously mistaken sweetheart also when it's just us, call me Tetsuro,” he whispered his name in your ear and if you weren't trying to match his teasing energy, you would’ve made the first move but the build-up was so much better.

He finally let go of the zipper on your skirt and began to pull it slowly down your thighs, all while maintaining eye contact. He slowly removed his finger from your mouth and trailed any lingering saliva along your bottom lip and down your jaw before his hand found comfort around your neck, offering the softest squeeze, eliciting yet another breathy moan from your lips. If only you knew how much those sounds of yours were causing him to short circuit.

“Tetsuro. If there’s anything I know very well, it's my place in this office.” You kept steady eye contact while attempting to squeeze your thighs together. 

Kuroo noticed your struggles and continued to strip the skirt from your body. Your lower half was beginning to burn with anticipation. His long fingers then traced the outline of your panties, if he looked any closer he would see the little wet spot forming right at your entrance. He lightly pulled on the thin material and snapped it back against your body, a small chuckle rising from deep in his chest because of how cute and responsive you are to his actions.

“And where is that exactly?” He can't help but tease you, even though his cock is absolutely suffocating, he still wants to make sure you know who’s in charge. 

“I'm an employee on your payroll, aren't I?” your voice was so soft, focusing more on steadying your breathing. He began to run the back of his hand along your hip and grazed his knuckles against the area that you ache for him the most, a throaty sigh escapes you and some of that newfound confidence as well. Where the hell did she come from?

“It only makes sense that my position is under you.” Kuroo is slightly surprised by your response but he can tell that you’ve had enough of his teasing just like he’s had enough of having to come up with new ways to fluster you. Now it seems that all his prayers are being answered, he finally has you to himself all alone in the office, and there’s only one thing on his mind after hearing the words slip from your lips. “That’s definitely the right answer, but I hope you don’t mind if I spend some time on you first?”

His fingers were now pulling the fabric of your panties down and off your body, he never breaks eye contact, rubbing his hands all over your legs and occasionally squeezing your soft skin. He finally returned to eye level and placed both hands on your cheeks, bringing you in for a hot and desperate kiss. He managed to push you further onto the desk so you can rest comfortably, the cold sensation of the wood on your bare skin forced a tiny gasp to escape. 

Kuroo began to play with the buttons of your blouse, pulling on the material. By the time he gets to the last button, you’re halfway done removing his, finally seeing the strong body underneath it all. Hot. Once he had you completely undressed he took a single step back. Biting his lip and admiring your body.

“You’re so god damn sexy.” He came back to you, hot mouth leaving kisses all over your neck and chest. He spent some time on each of your breasts, sucking and biting on your sensitive nipples, sending waves of pleasure straight to your core. His hands hooked under your knees and spread your legs. You're practically dripping onto his desk by now and can’t help but grind your hips against nothing, desperate for some sort of relief. 

“Someone's a little needy, huh?” his breath was hot against your stomach and fingers digging into the meat of your thigh. Once he got on his knees in front of you, his fingers found their way to your throbbing center. Slowly parting your folds and massaging your sensitive hole with perfect pressure. “Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ wet too,” with his other hand he used his thumb to play with your clit. You threw your head back, letting out a soft moan as you made contact with the desk below.

Kuroo wasted no time putting your legs over his shoulders, leaving wet kisses along your thighs and placing several on your hips. He finally placed a kiss on your clit, causing you to yelp and buck your hips against his face. “You taste better than I imagined baby girl,” he licked a stripe through your folds, then sucked on your clit softly. “Mmm it feels so good!” you’re a moaning, whimpering mess already. Kuroo has to use his hands to keep you still but he’s humming happily while lapping up all you have to offer him and you can't help but shake. “Am I making you feel good, pretty girl? Your cute little pussy is so sensitive huh?” his tongue was replaced with one of his fingers gathering up your slick and slowly entering you.

“Yes yes fuck I love it. I want your cock. Please.” you looked at him through lidded eyes sucking your bottom lip harshly in between your teeth. He can't help but smile at how cute you look begging for him. “Relax baby girl, we’ll both get what we want but I gotta work you up a bit more.” He added another finger curling them a little to find your sweet spot, while sucking on your clit. He knew he found it when you squeezed your thighs around him and called out his name. Your walls twitching around his fingers, reaching your first climax of the day. 

He pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, sucking off every bit of your juices, moaning in sheer delight. Another kiss was placed on your clit before he began a trail of them to your neck and jaw, teeth sinking into your skin. One of his hands caressed your cheek as he kissed you on the lips, your taste and his hot breath sending another wave of arousal through you and you moan into his mouth. He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. “Wanna make you cum with my tongue one more time okay sweetheart?”

You wanted to whine and throw a fit but his mouth was magical and you weren't one to complain. With a small ‘okay’ and another kiss on the lips he made his way to your pussy once more, already swollen and ridiculously sensitive. He began with the same rhythm as before, soft groans of satisfaction driving you wild. The grinding of your hips against his face only became more violent when he added his long fingers. Finding that same spot as earlier. 

“F-fuck oh fuck I’m gonna cum!” you arched your back off the desk and brought a hand to your chest massaging squeezing your nipples. The only thing you hear before your orgasm rips through you is the loud squelching of fingers inside your pussy and his moans of praise. When you open your eyes and finally come back to earth, you see Kuroos face, hand and wrist covered in your juices. “I haven't even fucked you yet and you squirted just like that? You're gonna be the death of me Y/n.” 

You giggled a little, hiding your face in embarrassment, body still trembling from the intense orgasm. Of course that smart mouth of his is sinfully skilled. He moved your hands out of the way, intertwining his with yours, lifting you and pulling you into another kiss. 

You let go of his hands running yours along his toned chest, leaving small scratches, quickly removing his belt and slacks. You squeal at how big he looks in his boxers, his cock begging to be free. Pulling the waistband down and letting it drop to his feet, you moan at the sight. A small bead of precum forming at the tip, now an angry red from being neglected for so long. “I wanna make you feel good too Tetsu.” 

Before you can drop to your knees for him he puts his hands on your hips, rubbing soothing circles. “Next time gorgeous, I wanna feel you right now.” he lifted you off the ground, legs wrapping around his waist and lips meeting in a sloppy mess of teeth and tongue. One of his hands made their way to your ass, squeezing softly before landing a smack. You moaned in response and ground your hips against his throbbing member, the tip creating glorious friction against your folds. He finally placed you back on the desk then fisted his cock a few times, running the tip against your folds and teasing your entrance.

“Want you inside me now Tetsuro. Please.” your chest was heaving in desperation and he loved that he made you like this. “Okay sweet girl. If it’s too much let me know.” You gave him a small nod and he kissed you while letting himself slip inside your warm walls. You were already so wet from before but he was so long and thick that the intrusion was slightly painful. 

“Holy shit! you’re so damn tight.” he says through gritted teeth. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers tugging softly on his hair when you feel him bottom out inside you. He lets out a few puffs of air because it's taking all his willpower not to cum with the way your pussy is gripping onto him right now. You let out a few whimpers and he checks your face for any signs of discomfort before retracting his hips and thrusting into you. You make eye contact with him, he’s absolutely mesmerizing with that lusty look in his eye and a small layer of sweat on his forehead. 

“S-so big Tetsu. It feels so good.” you squeeze your legs wrapped around his waist, bringing him closer to you and he groans in response. He begins to thrust into you slowly, still trying to keep his cool but finding that sweet spot inside you every time. “Oh you're gonna make me cum with the way you are clampin’ down on my cock like that sweet thing.” he shifts the angle of his thrusts and cages your head between his arms. His large upper body casting a shadow over you that makes you shiver. You can see the way the muscles on his forearms and biceps are flexing with every thrust. How he’s looking down at where you two are connected in pure fascination, tugging his lip between his teeth.

Using his arms to push off the desk, he tugs your hips to the edge and keeps his fingers embedded in the soft flesh, meeting each of his thrusts. You lift yourself as well, resting on your elbows and watching him. You notice a small bump on your belly each time his hips meet yours and it's enough to have you roll your eyes back. Holy fuck now that’s different. Kuroo noticed your surprise and pressed a hand against your tummy, making you feel him even deeper if possible. 

“I’m right there baby girl. Can you feel it?” You feel as though you're being split open but it hurts so good. His stare and dominating aura so sinful and addictive, you know you're in trouble. “Yes it feels so good. I love your cock.” He feels you fluttering around him and picks up his pace. The sharp sound of skin slapping echoes throughout the office along with his animalistic growls. 

“Is that right. You gonna cum on this cock, like a good girl?” his thumb found your clit, working small circles. “Make a mess all over my desk? Let me cum inside this tight pussy?” his thrusts were reaching deep, that bulge in your tummy only looking bigger now. You tried meeting his thrusts halfway, your hand gripped his wrist and you neared another orgasm. “Y-yeah, oh fuck. please. I wanna cum so bad. wanna make you feel good too, sir.” 

At the last word you said he thrusted into you once more. your walls fluttering around him bringing his release as well, he hunched over with a groan and found your lips as he spilled his seed inside you. The warmth filling you up and making you feel nothing but bliss. Your ankles locked around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, keeping him buried inside you while you caught your breath’s. 

He pulled away first, watching as his cock slipped from your tight hole, both of you letting out a sharp breath from the sensitivity. His cum followed right after, dripping down onto his desk. The sight of your clenching pussy and the mess was enough to get him hard again. He wants as much as you’re willing to give him. Lifting your upper body he pulls you in for another kiss, this one a bit sweeter. 

You pulled away and began kissing his jaw. “I want more.” You said looking up at him with bright eyes. Your makeup is messy but you still look delicious as ever. 

He gave you a playful grin and a peck on the lips. “You read my mind gorgeous.” 

He spun you around and bent you over the desk, pressing your body into the wood but not enough to hurt. His fingers slowly ran down your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You turn your head slightly so you can see him, right now he looks intimidating as ever. Large muscular body towering over you, one hand gripping your ass and the other teasing the head of his cock along your folds. He can see how your dripping hole is clenching around nothing, your frame trembling from previous orgasms. He's so damn overjoyed that he slips right inside you, not wanting to waste another second outside of your tight pussy. 

The stretch that he provided was nothing you've felt before, he was definitely the biggest you’ve been with. You felt every ridge and vein, every twitch, you still feel him in your stomach. Nothing beat how warm he is though, flooding every nerve with heat and electricity. 

He set a brutal pace, balls slapping against your clit each time, making you cry out and moan incoherent versions of his name. His left hand gripped your thigh and hitched your leg on the desk, the shift in position causing him to drag the tip of his cock perfectly against your g-spot. “Right there Tetsuro, feels so fucking good.” you ached your back in ecstasy. 

The hand he had hooked under your knee creeped up your thigh and rested on your hip. He used the other to raise you off the desk and wrap around you. His warm hard chest pressing into your back and his large, rough palms massaged your tits. You can feel his warm breath on your ear and you shiver when he groans. The deep rumble of his chest crashing into you like a wave. 

Hearing his moans right in your ear was like heaven, the feeling of his cock twitching inside tells you he's close. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum so fuckin’ hard. Your little cunt’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight. You gonna be a good girl and let me cum inside again?” his rough pounding turned into slow, deep strokes. Slamming into your sweet spot with pin-point accuracy.

“Please. Feels so good and I want your cum. Want it in me so bad.” his hand moved to your jaw turning your head, squishing your cheeks and leaving a sloppy kiss against your lips. You brought your arm up, grabbing his face, pulling him closer. You sucked his bottom lip between your teeth and he growled in response, slow thrusts gaining some more speed.

The hand he had on your hip made its way in front of you, fingers trailing softly against your swollen clit. Tears were pricking the corners of your eyes from overstimulation but you loved every second of it. “I want you to milk my cock, take all your filling like a good little shortcake and make a mess on this desk. Can you do that for me?” you only nod and moan your answer.

The intense eye contact between the two of you, mixed with his hard thrusts and rough fingers, make that tingling feeling in your core seem like the first one all over again. Your head falls back against his chest as your body locks up and shakes uncontrollably, the tight fluttering of your walls brought his release as well. 

You can feel his warm load inside as he keeps fucking into you, allowing you both to ride out the intense wave of pleasure. All while massaging your clit, only bringing on another orgasm, making you squirt once more on his hand and desk. Feeling it drip down your legs, surely his too. 

Once the rush of euphoria passed, you both fell forward, his cock still inside you as you both caught your breath. You were still quivering with aftershocks of pleasure when he slipped out of you, a mixture of both of your cum spilling onto the floor and down your thighs. 

He stumbled back onto his chair and took a deep breath. Hypnotized by the way you’re still spread out for him to see, the beautiful sight of your plump ass becoming something he wants all the time. You finally sit up slowly turning to lean against the desk, legs feeling like noodles. Both of you catching the other staring and letting out a fit of laughter. He reached for your hand and pulled you down on the chair with him to relax, wrapping his strong arms around you. 

“So, I was thinking, maybe I should give you a promotion.” he kissed the top of your head and you pinched his nipple teasingly. “Stop fucking around Tetsu.” he smirked and gave you a knowing smirk. 

“We just did, sweet heart.” you rolled your eyes and nuzzled into his neck. 

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

After resting for a while the two of you got cleaned up and dressed, tidying up the office so it didn't look like two people just fucked in it. Once you were done you both stood and looked out the window of his office, watching the sun disappear and the stars start to shine. He made a sound like he just remembered something. 

“Do you wanna go out to get something to eat?” he looks at you while putting his coat on.

“I’d love to, I’m starving,” you grabbed your purse and put on your coat as well. “Oh, uh what time is it?” you ask him. 

He lifted the sleeve of his jacket, looking at his watch and raising a brow. “That’s weird. My watch is stuck at 4:45.” you look at him in confusion. 

A sudden burst of wheezing laughter echoes through the walls and you’re still wondering what’s so funny. He turns to you and looks at your face, melting at how cute and innocent you looked. 

“I think you ruined my watch, Y/n.” he brings a hand up to your face moving a piece of hair that was out of place. You can't help but blush at his words, instantly turning away from him and opening the doors to his office.

“Well we’re even now because you ruined any other man for me.” You walked ahead of him in annoyance but he knows it won't last long.

He’ll have you screaming his name again in his bed in no time. 

I wonder if he was joking about that promotion though…

———————————————————————

✨stay sexy my friends✨

Taglist: @bobabybo

a/n: if you made it this far... yooo... im so sorry you had to read this. it didn’t tickle the brain the way i wanted and i trashed it like ten times only to go back with what i originally started with but if you liked it and you feel a lil sum ;) lmk i would love feedback or what I could’ve done better. i don’t know what I want to do with this blog just yet but for now its just my thirsts and writings. i reply and like on @keigohoes im just stupid lol.

[p---ink]

What’s On Your Mind?

Author’s Note: Hi :) Remember me? I’ve missed you guys, and Tumblr altogether. I felt absolutely guilty about not writing, but the writer’s block was strong on this one guys. And while I’ve had lots of ideas for stories I couldn't quite put them onto paper...or screen. Anyway, wanted to try something new. So this one is about a Thor! I dedicate this one to you @swaggysposts​ since I know you love Chris Hemsworth. Its pretty short, but still, tell me what you think, my love! 

Summary: Avenger reader has a crush on the god of thunder.

Warnings: some lite language and fluff. 

Word Count: 4.7k

Part Two   Part Three

“I’m sorry? Did I hear that right? You said you can what?” Mr. Stark asked, without a doubt forgetting that there were stranger things in the world. 

Clearing my voice, and speaking a bit louder I say, “I can read minds, sir.”

“That’s what I thought you said.” Stark voiced out loud placing a sleek pair of sunglasses on his face. He was still pretty skeptical of my claims, but another part of him was very anxious. Or would the word be embarrassed? Mortified? Yes that was definitely the perfect description.

Whatever the feeling was, I knew the cause was because he knew that if what I was saying was true, he would have to start groveling because of the dirty thoughts that raced through his mind when we first introduced ourselves.  

‘Forgive me for looking Pepper, but this girl has the ass of a professional volleyball player’ was what he thought as he opened the door for me on the way in.

“I can’t hear what you’re thinking though, because It only works through touch.” I lie, as I watch his worry fade away. I needed this job, and I couldn’t be disqualified because of harmless thoughts that we could all be guilty of sometimes. Besides it wasn’t Tony’s fault: these jeans did do wonders for my bottom. 

Something told me though, that if this Pepper weren’t in the picture, he’d have no problem saying what he thought of me out loud. And he was a handsome man, couldn’t be much older than 40, so maybe in another universe I’d consider him. Not this one though. 

“Hey Kid,” Stark started, interrupting my own inappropriate thoughts, “just saying ‘I can read minds’, wont be enough. You’ll have to prove it.”

“Of course! Sorry—” I was cut short by the sound of the thick glass doors of the conference room being slammed against the walls. 

A brown haired boy with deep chestnut eyes, that looked as frantic as the rest of his face, rushed out apology after apology as he took his seat next to the older man. 

Tony, who hadn’t spared the younger boy a glance, said, “Ah, perfect. Tell me what he’s thinking.”

‘Spiderling’ was the name he had assigned him through thought. As I concentrated on his confused features, he looked from me to Stark.

“What who’s thinking? Is Dad—I mean Mr. Stark, referring to me? How could she possibly do that? Oh God, he hasn’t said a word to me since I got here. He must be really upset because I’m late. Geez, I hope he doesn’t take Karen again. I’d rather he kill me.” I repeated, after relaying all of the boy’s thoughts as fast as he could think them. 

“Is she right?” Tony asked the boy. He felt both amazed and amused. Amazed with me, and amused by Spiderling for thinking of him as a dad. He would never let him live that one down. 

After swallowing his astonishment, and turning his attention from me, Spiderling answered “Yes.”

“Good. And at least we both agree on your punishment. I’d rather kill you, too. Saves me less trouble in the future.” Tony stated. He was punishing him because apparently this was the third time he’s been late to the interviews he was supposed to be in charge of. 

Spiderling let alarm overtake his features, but before he could say anything, Tony continued on with more questions. 

“Do you have any other skills, we should know about?”

“Well just a bit of hand to hand combat. But it still needs a lot of work. Other than that no—”

“How did this happen?” Spiderling interrupted, wonder getting the best of him.

“Kid,” Tony starts, but he goes ignored by Spiderling. 

“Were you bitten by some kind of radioactive insect like me? Or are you super smart like Mr. Stark? Or perhaps it was gamma radiation like Dr. Banner! Or maybe a super serum like Mr. Rogers!—”

“Don’t make me remove your batteries, junior!” Tony interrupted, then he looked to me. “I’m sorry. He’ll keep going if you don’t nip it in the bud early.”

But he didn’t have to tell me that. His own mind, like Spiderling’s, was racing a mile a minute. 

“No its fine really. He’s just curious.” I reply with a chuckle. “And to answer your question Spiderling: maybe I was born with it, or maybe its Maybeline.”

I began to grow embarrassed by their silence at my terrible joke, until Spiderling stifled a chuckle. “I get it!” He said between snickers. “Wait why’d you call me Spiderling?” He asked. ‘Is she picking on me?’ He thought. 

Needing to correct his thoughts to clear up any offense I say, “No! I would never pick on you, I just thought that was your name because Mr.—”

“Y/N, was it?” Tony interrupts, yet again. “I think you’d make an excellent addition to our team! When can you start?” 

“Really?” I ask gleaming, ignoring the fact that he wanted me to shut for outing what he really thought of his younger protégé. “I can start right away! Thank you so much for this opportunity!”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” He hurried. “F.R.I.DAY, will prepare your room, and Peter here will show you around.”

At that Peter hopped to his feet mind racing with thoughts of excitement on the hopes of a future friendship. “Follow me!” He said, grabbing my hand.

“Not so fast, champ. I need to speak with Ms. L/N alone for a moment.” Tony stated, nodding at Peter as he excused himself from the room. 

Tony cleared his throat, and relayed his thoughts, thoughts that were hard to separate from Peter’s louder ones earlier. “So Y/N,” He started towards me, leaning in close as he chose his words carefully. “I couldn’t help but notice, that you didn’t need to touch Parker nor I to read our thoughts. Care to explain?”

Flustered at being caught I stumble across my words as I try to explain, “Ah yes, well its rare, but sometimes I don’t need to touch the person.”

“Mmm.” Tony hummed, not believing a word I said, and I knew then the gig was up.

Cocking my head, and wearing a semi-sympathetic expression I say, “Don’t worry. I don’t even know who Pepper is.” 

And before Stark could protest, I ran to Peter’s side, so we could begin the tour around my new home. 

That was all a little over eight months ago. And so much had changed now. Peter’s hopes became true. We were the best of friends. His boy-like charm never grew old to me, and nor did my gifts to him.

“Cerulean” I’d say, when he’d think things like ‘What’s your favorite color?’. He always thought questions like that as a sort of game. I never got tired of playing along. 

It seemed to never click in his mind though that he could never scare or surprise me when he hid behind corners or couches, because I could hear his thoughts before he got the chance to. 

But besides the little stunts he’d try to pull by hiding his thoughts in order to frighten me, Peter was as transparent as they were. The boy was an open book, and he rarely kept a secret. It made us perfect friends, because he never seemed to get tired of me knowing every single detail about him. 

Though the other avengers treated me like family, Peter seemed to be the only one welcoming of my “gift”. 

If you asked Steve, he’d think something along the lines of “I’m too old for this shit” when I’d answer questions he hadn’t had the chance to ask. Then he’d immediately curse himself, for thinking a swear word when I’d tease him with one of the team’s inside jokes, like “language.”

Bucky tried his hardest to keep his thoughts in a vault, but it never worked. I knew exactly how many dead bodies he had under his belt, and where he kept his hidden stash of plums. 

Natasha, however, never tried to hide her kill count. She always made it a point to up the number by one as a threat to me, every time I accidentally crept inside her head. I always made it a point to keep my distance whenever she was deep in reflection.

Banner was interesting. His mind had two voices of course, and neither one of them gave a shit about whether I heard them or not. There were the deep thoughts that I struggled to understand most of the time, then others were one-word sentences only. They were louder than the rational side of his brain. 

“La, la, la, la, la”, was literally all that Sam would think whenever there was something he wanted to hide. Sometimes he’d do it just to piss me off, because he knew if I said to ‘knock it off’, he could accuse me of evading his thoughts in the first place. 

In truth, I never tried to read what they were thinking. I found the process invasive, and distracting from my own feelings. I worked hard to shut it all out, doing my best to make truth of that lie I told Stark all those months ago. But it was very draining, and took more energy than my body could exert. One person was easy enough to ignore, but more than ten, proved to be a task.

Most of my entire life I spent working in order to shut out all of the world around me. I avoided crowds whenever I could, blasted my music through my headphones whenever I couldn’t, and made sure to drug my body heavily with painkillers and vitamins whenever the last two weren’t options. 

It was so much work just to go out into the world. So much work until I met him. 

The son of Odin was the only person whose thoughts I would pay to hear. Coincidentally, he was also the only person who’s thoughts I couldn’t read. I could never hear him, I would only ever feel him. He radiated a rare intensity I had never felt before. His thoughts, or should I say feelings, even managed to drown out all of those around him. I had no choice but to focus on him whenever he was around. 

When I was with him, he literally clouded my brain. I didn’t have to work to shut him or the others out. He did it for me. 

I usually thought that was refreshing. But in the time I grew to know him, I found it mostly frustrating at times. 

You could say I liked him, but that would be putting it lightly. 

Liking someone for me, was a rare luxury. My crushes were always narrowed down to celebrities, and other people who didn’t know I existed. 

It was a pain to date people whose thoughts about you were always on display.

And if you thought dating was hard as a telepath, try having sex. Imagine being able to hear all of your partner’s most inner thoughts about the faces you make when you cum, or discovering that you have a small birthmark on your ass that you would otherwise know nothing about. 

Yeah, it wasn’t the greatest experience.  

I had never experienced the actual joys of feelings for someone, and wondering if they liked me back. Thor was my first. And chances are, he would never feel the same way. 

He was a literal god, and he lived up to that fact. I was just an average Midgardian, with a silly school-girl crush. It would never happen. 

Silly thing that Fate was. She had to make the only man I found irresistible, unattainable too. What a bitch. 

“Hey. Are you ready?” Natasha asked referring to our daily training. 

“Yes, what’s on the agenda today?” I ask, a bit confused that she isn’t in her workout attire. 

“Well you’ll h–”

“What? Why?” I squeak, before she can finish her thought…well before she can finish her sentence. According to her thoughts, I’d now be training with Odinson.

“I think you’ve graduated from me, kiddo. You can read my thoughts fast enough to predict as well as react to all of my oncoming moves.” Natasha relayed, a hint of sadness detectable through her words. Though she behaved like an older sister to me, she would miss throwing me around on the mat. “We’ll have to see how you do against someone whose actions you can’t predict, just in case that problem comes up out in the field.” She informed me while walking away, before I could confront her. 

“Can’t it be someone else?” I yell to her, but she doesn’t answer. 

“You wound me, Y/N.” That deep familiar voice bellowed from behind me. “And here I thought you enjoyed my company.”

Oh you have no idea, I thought to myself, as I spun on my feet to face him. I craned my neck to peer up at his eyes. One was a pretty hazel, while the other a deep blue. Cerulean. Funny how he’s the reason I’ve grown so fond of the color after all of these months.

“It’s not that I don’t like you. I just don’t think its fair is all. You know? With you being a god.”

“You’re worried you won’t be able to handle me? Do not fret. I wouldn’t dream of giving you more than you could handle.” He said, wiggling his brows suggestively, while flashing a smile. I suppose I failed to mention that he was a massive flirt that could put even Tony Stark to shame. “I promise to take it easy on you.” He furthered, smirking and winking his hazel orb.

“Why do I feel like your idea of taking it easy is vastly different from mine.” I say, trying to settle the butterflies. 

“Whatever you’ve heard about me is nonsense. I’m a merciful master.” He assured.  “We’ll just do some light work today: of course we’ll start with stretching, then 30 laps around the facility to build your stamina, a few hours of work on the machines to build your muscle—because my lady you are a dainty little thing, and then we’ll end the day with an hour or two of sparring.” 

At the sight of my dumbstruck face, Thor says, “I’m sorry that must be too light. How does 50 laps and three hours of sparring, sound?”

“Are you joking?”

“You’re right. I have some matters to attend to on Asgard, but I think we can squeeze in 75 laps, take it or leave it.”

Realizing how deathly serious he was, I quickly say, “I’ll leave it. Let’s get started.”  Deciding to address the subject of excessive training later, I turn to begin my stretches. 

Quiet. As usual. I was alone with my thoughts, which was something that only happened quite literally when I was alone. I couldn’t help but be immensely aware of his presence.

Moments like these i’d die to know what he was thinking. Especially when I could feel his stare. It burned worse than fire on my skin. 

Fire couldn’t compare to his actual touch, however. The same touch I now felt on my upper back.  For a man who weighed over 600 pounds, he was as stealthy as a cat when he wanted to be. His thick fingers against my spine raised goosebumps to my flesh. I would have jumped out of my body if he wasn’t there to keep me grounded. 

“My apologies. It was not my intention to startle you.” He informed, through a deep hearty chuckle. “I just needed to correct your form. Your time on the field will suffer if you continue with your training like this.” 

“Oh.” I replied, tensing a bit as one of his hands traveled around to my stomach and the other pushed against my spine to straighten my posture. My mind was hazy, and if I had even understood the words he spewed a moment ago, that status now changed.

“It all makes me wonder what the Lady Spider has been teaching you.” He continued, as if he didn’t notice the change in my demeanor. “Better.” 

When he stepped away from me, I released a small shaky breath. “What’s on your mind?” He asked. Maybe he did notice the change.

I mentally decided that I would ask him the months-long question I had always wondered about. “What’s on yours.” I state instead of ask, trying to resume my stretches.

“Pardon?” Thor asked. “Do you wonder about what is I ponder? Or is that your answer?

“Both.” I say without hesitation. “Why can’t I read your mind?”

“I’m afraid that’s by design, my lady.”

I stop stretching and turn around to ask, “How?” He had my full attention now. 

Shortly after he corrected my posture, Thor had propped himself up against one of the machines to properly examine my form while I stretched. I tried to ignore how awkward that made me feel. 

“Since an early age I’ve had to learn to guard my thoughts.” He stated. “My brother is the God of Mischief, and Loki often played games of the mind. Mother took notice of how much it was ailing me, and taught me a few useful tricks on how to keep him out. I guess I’ve always practiced them, even in his absence. I don’t know if I even know how to stop it.”

“Oh.” I breathed out. Trying to make sense of his words. 

While I was doing that, he asked,“May I ask why it is you wish to know? I thought you hated your gift.”

“I do. But I guess it still feels odd to not be able to use it on someone. I have no clue what you’re thinking let alone how you feel about me. It unsettles me.” I immediately regretted saying the last part as soon as it was out. 

His reaction did not aid my embarrassment. A thunderous laugh erupted from his throat. It was the kind of laugh that you could feel in your abs, and I knew this because his whole torso shook as it spread through his vocal cords. He was genuinely amused. 

His amusement prompted me to ask, “What’s so funny?”

“How I feel about you.” I think he mutter softly, before following a little louder to himself, “It’s weakened you.” 

“What did you say?” I never had to ask someone to repeat themselves unironically, until I met him. 

“Your ability I mean. It has impaired you.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I think the word is ‘spoiled’. Yes that seems to be the perfect descriptor.” He teased.

His words made me feel small and silly. Almost insignificant. “Excuse me?”

Sensing my irritation, he quickly told me, “I meant no disrespect. Its just most of your kind and some of mine are not awarded the same privileges that you have. We rely on body language and hidden meanings behind words to determine how someone feels. Well with the exception of me of course, because who would not adore me?” He joked. “But that’s beside the point. You have not yet learned how to read between the lines. Which is why I unsettle you.”

“I know how to read body language, I’m not an idiot.” I say a bit more sharply than I intended. My sense of inferiority getting the best of me.

“I’m not implying that you are, just that if it were not for your talent you would know have known what was on my mind ages ago.”

“That makes no sense. If I couldn’t read minds, i’d be in the same place I am now: unable to know what it is you think.”

“My dear, even if you could read my mind it would make no difference, for I’ve already made my feelings towards you painfully clear. One need not the aid of your capabilities.”

“Thor, could you stop the riddles—”

He ignored my pleas and kept going. “But just to be explicitly clear this time, since obviousness is lost on you—” 

“Stop insulting—”

“I shall tell you how I feel about you.” He stepped and leaned in closer, as if what he was about to say was a secret meant for only my ears.  “Listen closely because I will say this but once, so be wary not to misunderstand: I desire you.” He explained, words dripping with the utmost sincerity. 

My brain started racing. And I suddenly realized just how close he was. “You desire me?” I repeated to myself.

“Yes. I desire you.” He stated again, anticipating my uncertainty. 

If my heart wasn’t beating fast before, it surely was now. My poor ribcage wasn’t built for this.

“A-A-as a friend right?” I stutter out. “Because we aren’t, we aren’t close, like the rest of the team? Yes,” I breathe out. “That has to be what you mean.” I say that last part more to myself than to him. Clearly I’ve misunderstood his words, even though he warned me not to.

“While I would value a companionship, I’m afraid that is not all I mean when I say I desire you.”

“Eerr” Words are hard to form all of the sudden. Stammering out sounds is all that I can do. 

The air around us stilled, and it was pregnant with silence. He gave me a moment to think before asking, “Would you like further explanation.”

“Yes please.” I rush out quickly. “I think that will clear things up a bit more.”

“Right it would. Well If you wish to know what’s on my brain when you’re near, I shall tell you.” His words are teasingly slow, and he knows this.

"But I doubt,” He continues, “i’ll be able to properly convey just how bad I long to be in your presence when you are gone. Just how much I battle myself when it comes to finding any excuse to touch you. As you know, I lost one of those battles today. I don’t know if you can handle, just how much I imagine your warm embrace to be. How tender I’ve imagined your lips to feel. I just know them to be softer than rose petals and sweeter than nectar.”

“In fact,” He started. I could almost physically see the lightbulb go off over his head. And then, he began ridding us of the rest of our space, extending his long arm to snake around my waist, and pulling me against his chest at a speed faster than lighting. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to put that theory to test.”

It was like a lucid dream. I was only allowed to watch everything play out before me, without the luxury of making any actions myself. It took great focus on my part to even will my head to move. My nod was so subtle I was unsure if he could even see it. But the God of Thunder had more than enough to go off on.

He joined the hand around my waist with his other, and shortly after I could feel my feet rise from the ground. My hands that were previously glued to his chest, found their place behind his neck to support the rest of my body. His head met me the rest of the way, before he blanketed his lips over mine.  

He released one of the hands around my waist, to bring it up to my face. His fingers, now fastened to my jaw, slightly parted my lips allowing him to further explore my mouth with his. As massaged my tongue with his own, I could feel his eyelashes dance across my cheeks. That’s how close he was.

Most beards are scratchy and rough, but his felt like silk against my skin. His lips were even softer, and were like velvet in comparison. 

I inhaled the scent of rain on freshly cut grass. It reminded me of dewy meadows and Irish springs. His touch was firm, but he managed to hold me with care, like a bull who had trained for years with the sole purpose of entering a china shop. 

He tasted like what summer felt like, if you could make sense of it. The kiss had the same intensity behind severe thunderstorms. Beautiful but deadly. I found myself teetering on the edge of a cliff: desperate to chase this thrill, but also wary of whether or not it was worth dying for. 

I mentally decided that I could expire in his arms, and be perfectly content with that decision.

I got more into it. I thought that if this was a dream I’d take full advantage of it. Surely dream Thor would be fine with me taking over the kiss. It felt only natural. 

I decided it was time for my tongue to do the exploring. My lips needed to memorize the feel of his. My hands wanted to study every strand of hair that lived on the nape of his neck. That was only fair right?

I was enjoying his embrace so much, that I mistook the spinning in my head for shock from kissing a god, instead of the telltale signs of an impending headache. The lack of air in my lungs was because he took my breath away in a figurative sense, instead of the literal physical sense it actually was. The ache that spread throughout my body wasn’t because of the suffocating grip he had to keep me pressed to his chest, but because our bodies were on the brink of fusing into one. 

On second thought, maybe dying in his arms is more painful than I previously thought. 

I tapped out, and he immediately released me, placing me gently on the ground. I struggled for air, but it was like he didn’t miss a beat. Not a drop of sweat in sight on his gorgeous face. Instead, I could see a bright smile forming. 

“Are my thoughts clear enough, now?” He asked, breaking out into smirk.

But I had no time to acknowledge his joke, for I could feel reality setting back in. And reality is, I was a flustered fuck. 

“I’m sorry.” I stammered. “I must be holding you from your business on Asgard!”

“What? No—”

But he had no time to argue, for in a flash I was already gathering my gym bag and heading for the door.

“What about your training?” I heard him yell.

“I’m sorry! Maybe another time!” And after that, I practically sprinted to get out of earshot before he could protest or stop me. 

I raced passed Peter who was on his way into the gym. “Y/N! Are you okay?” I heard him yell. But what was strange is that I couldn’t hear him think it, despite being more than enough distance away from Thor.

“I’m fine.” I yelled back, hoping he wouldn’t follow. Maybe Peter’s mouth was faster than his thoughts.

No. That wasn’t it, because as I raced through the tower, everyone’s minds were silent, even though they were chatting casually with one another. That never happened. 

I burst through the nearest lady’s room, desperate to calm my nerves, when I saw Natasha applying red lipstick.  The action by itself wasn’t disturbing, but the expression she wore was.

“Don’t tell the others.” She voiced, in a threatening tone.

“Don’t tell the others what?” I asked confused. Maybe she’d be able to take my mind off of things. 

She looked at me like I had grown two heads, much like the first day we met when I proved that I could read her thoughts. “I know you read them. But this is different Y/N, the guys will never let me live this one down.”

“Nat, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the date.”

“You’re going on a date?” No wonder she was so panicked. The woman was more comfortable with killing than she was with being vulnerable.

“Yes—What is wrong with you?” She half-yelled, interrupting herself as if she just realized something was wrong.

I had, had enough with trying to not think about him, because the task was damn near impossible so I decided to just say it. “Thor admitted his feelings for me. And then we kissed!” I cried. 

Oh, Nat mouthed, taking a more comfortable position against the bathroom sink. She leaned against its counter, and crossed her arms,“And now you can’t take your mind off of him.”

It was my turn to look at her like she was a lunatic. “How did you know that? Are you a mind-reader too?”

Song for the Chapter: Waiting For You by the Aces:  Pretty Self-explanatory lyrics. Think of the song from Thor’s POV

part II

A/N: If you made it this far, don’t be afraid to tell me what you think :)

[rintarhoes]

“KISS ME SLOWLY” — suna rintarou ;

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘: female reader. fluff—established relationship. angst if you squint. comfort. mention of drug use. like, one swear word.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2k

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: suna rintarō is so much more than his bored eyes, the blunt between his lips, and his tendency to slack off and you’re one of the very few people who know this.

♡: repost (: this was written way before it was announced that suna was a part of the japan olympic players so.

It’s you who find out first that there is truly so much more to Suna Rintarō than his expressionless exterior, sleepy eyes, and bored gaze towards even the most ridiculous situations. It’s when his self assured stance dwindled as he walked towards you once upon a time, introducing himself first before asking you for your number.

“My number?” You echoed his request, trying your best not to gawk at his attractive features and six foot two stature towering over you so easily; making you feel oh so small. (Which is funny, given that you were already standing straight on your heels.)

“If you don’t mind, ’s cool if you say no,” he replies, tearing his gaze from you as if he was actually anxious you’d say no.

It’s funny, really. It’s not every day a famous pro-athlete known for both his good looks and skills walk up to you, asking for your number and actually considering you’d say no to him and his pretty features—in fact, nevermind that he was pretty, it was more the fact that he wasn’t so full of himself to actually think you wouldn’t say no.

That’s what makes you nod your head; your heart already beating right out of your chest as he gives you a lazy grin and his phone to press your number in. When you’re done, you hand it back to him and you mentally pat yourself at the back for not visibly trembling.

“Y/N?” He reads your name from the contact information, and good God, did your name sound so beautiful coming out of his mouth. He doesn’t wait for your reply anymore, looking back at you from his phone, the lazy smile still across his lips as if he knew it was a heart killer.

“Thanks, I’ll text you later,” is the last thing he said before he walked away from you.

It didn’t take long for you to fall in love with someone like Suna Rintarō—underneath his detached personality also lied someone who was truly passionate with the things he set his mind to, gave his time to. Like you or volleyball or the video game he’s been waiting to release for a whole month—it only had to be something or someone who was special enough, then, he would give it his all.

The smoke that filled his lungs occasionally did nothing to lessen your own intoxication of Suna Rintarō and his passions—because every exhale, his dark green eyes would meet yours and oh so easily, he offers you that same lazy smile yet one that was dripping in affection.

“Should you even be smoking that, Rintarō?” You had questioned him before, about the second time you’ve seen him put the rolled blunt in between his soft lips, inhaling it.

“It’s a once in a while kinda thing, you don’t actually think I’d sacrifice my career for this don'tcha?” He grins at you, amusement flooding his usually bored eyes—now glazed over with the effects of the weed—from the way he gazes at you with an eyebrow raised.

It’s when you realize that Suna Rintarō was independent and knew what he was doing—did what he did with full awareness, full control, full flexibility. It’s as if who he was in court was who he was in person as well.

“You’re really interesting, y'know that Rin?” You had mumbled against his chest once before, it was at the first few months of dating—he had one of his arms around you with you cuddled on his side, watching a movie from his couch.

“Yeah?”

“I mean—you’ve always been so good at what you do, huh? But you still work for it.”

“What makes you say that?” You can feel him looking down on face against his chest.

“C'mon, don’t be silly. You were scouted at middle school and you only got better as you grew up!” You say, finally moving your head to meet his gaze.

But all you get is a flick on your forehead and his low chuckle, “’s not that deep, y/n,” he answers.

But you already knew better.

Suna isn’t one for words, and no matter how much you insist that he was beyond the description of words, he only rolls his narrowed eyes at you. You find out Suna Rintarō, your boyfriend, was a huge inspiration during your sixth month together when you finally met his little sister.

It’s hard to say it wasn’t amusing how snarky she was, just as he was to his friends whom you’ve met a few times before—Atsumu and Osamu Miya, you remember. She’s quick with her tongue, easily retorting back to her brother’s comments.

“Are you sure you didn’t just pay Y/N-san to be your girlfriend, nii-san?”

“Nah, you still jealous I came out prettier than you?” Suna bites back, a teasing grin plastered across his face. His sister only scoffs, looking back at you.

“You can tell me if he blackmailed you to come here!” She attempts to whisper. You’re not sure whether you should be worried or continue to laugh, but you do neither as you choke on the drink you were sipping on right as she told you this.

“Shit, Y/N,” Suna curses as you cough, your throat burning at the drink’s intrusion, but Suna’s quick to rub soothingly against your back as he offers you his water, his eyes glazed over in panic.

“You okay?” He asks when you stopped coughing, and you nod in response—throat remaining slightly sore. Suna lets out an aggravated groan, “Be careful next time,” he manages to scold you, but oddly enough, his words remain saccharine.

There’s something about the way that his little sister doesn’t seem the least bit surprised with his reaction that somehow lets you know that perhaps, Suna Rintarō might just be quite the caring brother behind closed doors.

After that, it was when Suna excused himself to take a call from his manager, leaving you with his sister.

“Hey, nee-san, promise you’ll take care of Rin-nii? You won’t break his heart, will you?” His sister asks, eyes gleaming with something akin to hope, expectation, wonder. It easily takes you by surprise.

“Don’t you worry, I’ll promise I’ll take care of him, promise I won’t break his heart,” your voice easily softens, nodding. His little sister’s gaze remains on you, as if she’s assessing you and as if she would easily tell whether or not you meant the words that came out of your mouth.

It makes you hold a breath until she nods slowly, smiling at you lightly just as Suna comes walking back, eyebrows raised, knowing he must’ve missed something.

“Whatcha girls talkin’ bout?” He asked as he slipped back on his seat beside you.

“None of your business, obviously,” his sister quickly answers.

They’re truly quite similar, it’s enough to make you smile and get through meeting his little sister until both of you dropped her off back to the train station.

“What’d she tell you?” Suna nudged you after seeing her train leave.

“Nothing, Rin,” you answered with a wide smile, leaning up to place a chaste kiss against his lips—yet just as you pull away, one of his hands has found its way behind your neck, pulling you back to him.

You never thought a kiss could feel so loving before—but it really seemed as if Suna Rintarō had a knack for proving you wrong, over and over again.

It was the day that the Olympic team was announced when you see so much more of Suna Rintarō. Quick like the blink of an eye, or lightning that leaves the thunder chasing it; Suna felt the exhaustion, the pressure, the burnt-out feeling that’s been repressed in the back of his head. It comes to him, crashing down like boulders not just on his shoulders but weighing down every part of his body.

Did he lack somewhere? He wonders. Where did that lacking end and start? What could have he done? Was it training, where he spent most of his time now? Suna had end up seeing you less and less since the drafting of olympic players started and you’ve been nothing but patient.

What was he supposed to tell you? After all the time it has stolen away from you—that he didn’t make it?

When he opened the door to your shared apartment, he doesn’t look up at you with a relieved sigh as he usually would—he avoids you gaze entirely, he avoids your observing eyes from the couch you sat on, watching him slowly shrug his shoes off.

“I’m just gonn—” he started, about to make an excuse to avoid looking at you.

“Prepared your bath, Rin. C'mon,” Suna hears you say but it doesn’t sink in his head, watching you take his hand, leading him to the bathroom.

Suna remains silent as he looks down on the bath you prepared for him, warm and inviting.

“Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done, okay?” He hears you say, followed by the echo of your footsteps walking away.

You easily understand that Suna Rintarō was more than his talents, his efforts, and every little thing about him when you feel his large arms wrapped around you, his broad chest pressed against your back and his face buried on the crook of your neck. His fresh scent right out of the shower engulfing you and invading your senses, flooding you with him.

“’m sorry, bunny,” he mumbles.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Ri—”

“It’s odd, thought I’d pull it off, thought it’d be nothin’ if I didn’t make it. Don’t know why I’m so upset right now,” he continues, cutting you off, “Been so patient for me too, bunny. Thought I’d be nice to make you proud, ya know?”

Your sigh comes out sharp from the heavy feeling from your chest, not knowing what to do to make him feel better—like he did with you, always knowing his way around your low moments.

You wriggle out of his arms, making him grumble until you fully face him. He looks back at you with a small frown, eyebrows furrowed, watching your expression.

“I’m always proud of you, Rin. Olympic player or not, you make me so proud,” you speak softly, your hands cupping each side of his face.

“Don’t even get why it matters to me this much, it’s just—” it was your turn to cut him off, tipping your toes to press a lingering kiss against his lips. Suna smiles against your lips, carrying you to sit on the kitchen counter like he always did—knowing you always would have to tip on your toes to reach him.

Soon, the lingering kiss turns slow and passionate—lips softly grazing the other, and it feels more like pouring the heavy weight of love out of your chest and into the other. A kiss so loving, so reassuring, so passionate—the kind that easily takes your breath away and makes your mind go blank. When Suna pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. You smile at him because it’s all you can do when your heart feels like it’s going to leap out of your throat just to offer itself to him entirely—and Suna smiles back at you, pecking your lips before wrapping his arms around you again, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You run your fingers through his hair, hoping it would help soothe him, and then you say, “I promise that you’ll make it next year, Rin. I’ll be with you now, and I’ll still be with you then.”

It only makes him hold you tighter, closer to him, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Rintarō. You deserve the world and all the stars in the galaxy.”

“’s too bad there’s nothin’ more I need than you, then.”

That’s what Suna tells you—Suna, who was smoke in his lungs, dumb videos of the twins to blackmail them with, little mistakes, bored eyes, and lazy attitude. The same Suna who was slow kisses, passion, and genuine smiles reserved for you—the same Suna who gave his passions his all, the same Suna who held you securely in his arms every night, the same Suna his little sister admired. Most of all, the same Suna Rintarō you loved with every beat of your heart, every fibre of your being.

📞 violet is calling… all content featured belongs to ©️ animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.

[autumnsart22]

Kidnapped: Feitan x fem reader💀

Little angsty fic for my torture gremlin 🤪 

Tags: Brief description of torture, mentions of sex and violence, almost rape scene (not with Fei)

You didn’t think you had ever hated anyone more than Feitan Portor. He was cruel, arrogant, and selfish, taking every opportunity to humiliate you and get on your nerves. Unfortunately, he knew exactly what to do to piss you off, and there had been more than one occasion when your arguing had gotten you two in very tight spots during missions. 

It didn’t always used to be that way. When you had first joined the Phantom Troupe, you had actually been pretty good friends with him, closer than most of the other Troupe members. But over time he had become cold and cruel, turning his back on you and becoming your tormentor instead. 

Which was why you were pissed off at Chrollo for pairing you up with Feitan for the next mission, but the Troupe leader insisted that you worked well together when you weren’t constantly arguing...which was rare. And unfortunately, this was going to be a big heist. 

Tonight you would be infiltrating the underground auction in Yorknew city to steal all the goods up for auction. It was a large job, especially facing off against all the mafia bosses, and you had to look the part in order to blend in. You were done up in a pretty red dress, your hair swept up to reveal crystal earrings and your lightly done makeup. Honestly, you were kind of feeling yourself, which was unusual because you didn’t usually care about how you looked. 

Feitan walked silently beside you as you made your way from the Troupe’s hideout in the direction of where you would be entering the auction. He was dressed up as well, wearing a black tuxedo and missing the usual bandana over his face, which you knew made him uncomfortable being so exposed. You might have tried to be nice if he’d not given you a once over when he saw you, a sneer pulling up his face as he scoffed. So instead of politely ignoring him, you grinned coldly and said, “You look like shit.” 

“You look like whore.” 

Your hands curled into fists, but you managed to not punch him. You did look slightly whory, but that was the point. You wanted to tempt all the big business men into spilling their riches into your waiting palms, even if it meant flashing a bit of bare leg and cleavage. The little gremlin didn’t have to point it out though. 

It was easy getting inside the auction, and soon you and Feitan were mingling with the guests as you waited for the event to begin. Feitan scanned the room with narrowed eyes, searching for our main target among the many rich mafia bosses throughout the area: Teika Rubin. 

As the son of one of the largest syndicate bosses in Yorknew city, Teika was set to inherit almost 20 million Jenny once he took over the business. He was at the auction in place of his father, and he currently held a diamond worth at least 5 million Jenny--more if you sold it right--in order to sell to a private buyer. It was your job to get him alone so that you could steal it. 

“He there,” Feitan murmured, his hair brushing your ear as he gestured towards the back of the room. He was right; at the center of an excessive number of bodyguards was Teika himself. 

He was young, maybe around twenty four, but you could tell by his eyes that his age didn’t mean inexperienced. You honestly had expected a pampered rich boy, but this was different. Cruel, smug, and powerful. And, if the way his eyes scanned the room with careful observation skills was any tell, smart. Not a good combination. Your mission may have been a bit harder than you expected, but there was no way you were going to tell Feitan that. 

“I’ll get him alone, but make sure you follow us.” 

You didn’t wait for a response as you slid away into the crowd. 

It ended up going exactly as you wanted. You spilled a drink on yourself and one of his guards, and like the charming person he was, Teika offered you a change of clothes. It only took a few sultry looks and suggestive words before he had you pinned up against the wall of one of the private rooms, shoving your dress up as he checked the clock. 

“I think I have enough time,” he said, smiling slightly. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay you well for this.” 

What had Feitan called you? A whore? You pushed that thought violently from your head as Teika started to kiss down your neck. 

You shuddered, clenching your teeth as he slid his hands along your thighs, your dress riding up almost to your hips. You were willing to do whatever it took to succeed in this mission and not let the rest of the Troupe down, but it was hard to force down your disgust and fear. 

Even if you wanted to escape, you weren’t sure you’d be able to. You didn’t have any weapons on you, and your Nen wasn’t exactly a combat tool. You were able to see the near future of yourself and people you loved if they were in life threatening danger, but although the power had gotten you out of many tight spots, it had holes. For example, if your opponent was just aiming to injure rather than kill, then you were completely in the dark. 

Plus, Teika was powerful. You didn’t know what his Nen power was exactly, but Chrollo had confirmed that he could be considered around the same level as a Phantom Troupe member in terms of combat ability. 

Please, Feitan, hurry.

The syndicate heir held your throat tightly as he went to tug your dress from your shoulders, and a small whimper of panic escaped your throat. 

And then Teika was being thrown across the room, slamming into the wall as you slid to the floor, gasping for air. Feitan stood over you, his eyes blank as he surveyed your rumbled hair and the way your dress had ridden up. 

“Let’s go,” he snapped, and you straightened your shoulders, snatching the knife he tossed you out of the air. 

Teika was quick to give up the jewel in his possession when he realized that all of his guards were dead, but he didn’t seem very upset about it. In fact, the manic look in his eye was almost gleeful as he watched you exit the room with Feitan. 

“Phantom Troupe,” you heard him mutter as the door clicked shut, and you set about locking him in there. 

“Why don’t we just kill him?” You asked, but Feitan didn’t even look at you. 

“Take too long,” he finally grunted. 

It was true. You could already hear the sound of gunshots coming from the main auction hall where Shizuku and Franklin were taking care of the rest of the mafia bosses, and soon the entire place would be swarmed with law enforcement and other mafia members. A fight between Feitan and Teika would be so destructive and long that it would cause more harm than good. 

“Thanks for coming in time,” you said as you walked side by side towards the back of the building where you were going to meet the other Troupe members.

Feitan snorted. “Seemed like fun.” 

Your mouth fell open, and you gaped at him. “I was just doing my part.”

“All you good for anyway,” he muttered, and you froze. 

“What?” 

Feitan crossed his arms, turning to you. “You useless.” 

“Y-you-” You were struggling to speak. You were used to petty insults, but this was different. He was dead serious. So you said the first thing that came to mind. “You’re just jealous.” 

Instantly, Feitan’s eyes flashed and turned lethal. “Jealous? Of what? You nothing but a burden to the Troupe with your arrogance and annoying personality. You weak, and the only thing you can do is…” His eyes trailed significantly down your short dress. 

You thought such things on the daily, but hearing them from him in particular made it worse. Tears filled your eyes unprompted, but you weren’t going to cry. Instead, you straightened your shoulders and turned your back on him, walking away without another word. You weren’t sure you could forgive him this time. 

------

3 hours later: 

“Where Y/n?” Phinks glared at Feitan as he met him outside of the auction hall, but Feitan only shrugged. “Is she ok?” He pushed, and the short Troupe member flipped him off. 

“She left.” He finally said. 

Feitan hadn’t been able to get your hurt expression out of his head, the tears shimmering in your eyes. He had never seen you cry before, or at least not because of him. He had gone too far. 

He had just been so enraged, seeing you pushed up against the wall by someone who wasn’t him. And then you had let out the sexiest sound he had ever heard, as if you were enjoying yourself, and he had lost it. He hadn’t meant to take it out on you--he never did. But that’s always what seemed to happen. 

“What did you do?” Phinks said in annoyance. Phinks and Shalnark had been trying to get Feitan to confess to liking you for years, and had eventually resorted to getting him blackout drunk. Shalnark had pretended to boast about seducing you, and Feitan had gone nuts. That was all the confirmation they needed. 

Since then, they had both tried to get him to confess to you, or at least not act like he hated you. But the issue was, Feitan wasn’t going to be weak over some girl. He wouldn’t allow you to take priority over the other good things in life, like torture, murder, and stealing. Caring about someone meant putting yourself at risk for them, and Feitan wasn’t willing to make that sacrifice, not even for you. 

But damn, that dress. He had had to talk himself out of dragging you back inside and forcing you to change, so that no other person except for him would ever get to see you in it. Perhaps his feelings were purely physical; that would be perfectly normal. But it didn’t explain why he wanted to be with you all the time, or why he enjoyed how red your face got when you were pissed at him, or why he loved watching you get all animated while telling a story, even as he pretended not to listen. 

But this time he could tell that he had gone too far, and you weren’t going to forgive him easily. Shit. He hated the idea of apologizing, but he hated the idea of you ignoring him even more. Maybe this one time he would put his pride aside…

Feitan began to walk a little faster as they approached the Troupe’s hideout, but he froze as they entered the abandoned building. 

There was blood everywhere. It covered the floors and was splattered along the walls, as if a major fight had gone down. In the center of the gore was a black screen. 

Machi emerged from behind some of the rubble, her eyes dark as she approached. “I just got back, but it looks like this was the work of one of the syndicates. I don’t know how they found our hideout though, or why they’d come when it was empty.”

“Where’s Y/n.” Feitan’s voice was soft, fury dripping from every word. Maybe she hadn’t come back to the hideout. Maybe she would be walking through the doors soon with Chrollo, and Feitan could apologize. 

As if in response to his question, the black screen flickered, and footage of a grey, concrete room appeared. In front of the camera was a familiar young man, and Feitan’s mind went blank. 

“I’m assuming that you’ve returned to your base by now,” Teika Rubin grinned, adjusting the camera. “I hope so, because this is live footage and you’ll miss the show!” 

The rest of the Troupe members had gathered around the screen at the center of the room, silently assessing as Teika stepped back...to reveal you.

You were tied to a chair and blindfolded, but you wrenched violently on the bonds holding you. “You disgusting shithead,” you snarled, and Teika backhanded you across the face. 

Feitan couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. 

Teika continued lightly, “As you can see, I have your lovely member here with me, and we’re going to be spending some quality time together. If you want her back, you will return my money.” 

“How did they get her?” Nobunaga growled, fists clenching. 

“They must have some sort of tracking Nen user. Or--”

“Does it matter?” Feitan interrupted. “We go--” 

He froze as he watched Teika pick up a knife and drench it in a familiar amber liquid. It was an extremely rare mix that Feitan had used on a number of occasions with tricky patients, and it always got them talking almost instantly. The pain from a single drop was almost enough to knock someone unconscious. Feitan had tried a bit on himself once out of curiosity, and even he had been surprised at how awful the experience was. 

Teika was smiling sadistically as he lifted your arm, pressing the knife against the skin of your wrist and sliding upward. Your scream was almost enough to make Feitan throw up as he watched you jerking against the hold of the chair. 

The short Troupe member had fantasized about hurting you a number of times, especially after Machi had accidentally let it slip about your masochist preferences. He had barely been able to keep his hand out of his pants for weeks after that, getting turned on every time he saw you. The number of times he had stood in front of your door in the middle of the night, wondering if he should just give in and fuck you, was almost ridiculous. But tying you to the bed, choking you until you cried, or whipping you until you were cumming everywhere was different from this. 

Feitan was literally shaking with fury, and he didn’t say a single word as he strode away, your screams still echoing behind him. 

“Where are you going?” Shalnark asked, but Feitan didn’t turn. 

“I get her back. Kill them.” 

No one stopped him. 

It didn’t take him long to track down where you were being kept. Chrollo had been keeping track of all the main syndicate bases, so it was just a matter of narrowing down which one the doomed heir would be using. The entire search took less than an hour, and then Feitan was headed down the hall, killing everyone in sight as he looked for you in the rooms. 

Teika was still talking to the camera when Feitan slammed into him--clearly he hadn’t expected to be found so easily. You were slumped in your chair, unconscious, and your arm was a bloody mess. 

Feitan was so angry that his Nen came almost instantly. “Pain packer,” he hissed, wrapping himself and you in powerful armour to protect against his attack. “Rising sun.”

The room erupted. 

-----

You woke as Feitan carried you through the molten hell that used to be the syndicate compound. All around you, you could hear the screams as people burned to death, but all you felt was a nice pleasant heat. 

“Fei?” You murmured, and you felt his arms tighten around you. 

“Here.” 

“I’m surprised you came,” you managed. 

“Tch.” He paused, and then he muttered, “I always come for you.” 

It wasn’t an apology, but you knew this was as close to one as he could handle. You relaxed against his chest. “Ok.” 

You closed your eyes, but you heard him from above you as he said, “Don’t walk away again.” 

It may have sounded blank and cold as always, but you could see the panic in his eyes at seeing you wounded. And by the heat of the sun around us, he had been utterly enraged that you’d been kidnapped. 

Perhaps you could forgive him after all. 

[luvspence]

contact names

spencer reid x reader

synopsis: a love story told through contact names

word count: 1.5k 

———

“hi dr. reid, or u-um spencer? is that all right? can i call you by your first name? i was wondering if i could get your number, so we could have a line of communication and all”

you stood in front of him, smiling brightly. this was your first jet ride of your first case. you believed first impressions were important, and a little more important when that first impression was with him

you’d gone to the same college as him, given you went around 12 years after he did, and his name was always brought up. when you were a criminal justice major and cal tech, spencer reid was a name that was hard to not know. you studied his analysis, you read his doctoral papers, and you admired him from a far. just an alumni, smart one, cute one at that, but just an alumni, someone to learn from

okay so maybe you had a crush on him, but of course you didn’t that was ridiculously, you’d never even met the man

but there you were, somehow you fought your way through school, the academy, and the baus hiring process, and you went from admiring learner, to colleague

he was beautifully perched on the edge of the jet seat, staring down at the chess set, playing against himself

“oh hello, and spencer is quite fine. just appreciative to be called anything other than morgan’s chosen nick name of ‘pretty boy’. i mean i guess it is a compliment? well it feels degrading in a sense, i digress,,”

he chuckled awkwardly

when he was nervous, he rambled, and you made him nervous

he and garcia had thoroughly researched you before you had joined

you were top of your class at cal-tech, top of your class at the academy, your published work was astonishing for someone your age, you had numerous letters of recommendation from highly regarded professors

you were nothing short of excellent, and nothing short of beautiful

long hair with bangs that perfectly framed your face, dimples on both of your cheeks, a smile that could light up any room you walked into

so needless to say, spencer already had a crush on you before you walked through the bau doors

“ and oh i’m regarding that phone number, let me...”

he shuffled through his satchel, files, books, tea bags and granola bar wrapper being pushed a side in search of his business card

“shoot, i can’t find it, here”

he pulled his phone out

“why don’t your enter your number, and i’ll text you so that you can save the contact as well?”

“oh perfect!”

you grabbed his phone typing in your number, and handing it back

“t-thank you!”

you turned to walk away

“oh wait! could you spell your last name for me? i wouldn’t want to get it wrong”

you spelled it out, he typed in the letters into his phone

now you were officially in his phone as plainly

“y/n l/n”

—

you guys quickly went from colleagues to friends

ever since that first text that spencer sent to share his number, you two were inseparable

carpooled to work and back

sat next to each other on the jet

office spaces next to each other

coffee “dates”

hotel slumber parties during cases

friday night game night traditions

endless conversations

book recommendations

and of course

a blinding amount of romantic tension

a couple months into you working at the bau you were sitting on spencer’s desk, him reclined in his chair

“i’m telling you! i’m amazing at gin rummy”

“mhm okay”

you hit him playfully with a file

“mhm? what is that supposed to mean? do you doubt my skills?”

“no not at all, i just know i’d crush you”

you raised an eyebrow

“okay dr reid? you wanna go?”

he pulled a deck of cards out of his drawer

“i’ll deal”

he said, shuffling the cards

7 rounds later, you had beat him by 27 points

“HA!”

he looked down in defeat

“HA HA HA!!!!”

“i let you win”

“UNTRUE UNTRUE! you knocked and were so confident that you had won, but guess what? I HAD GIN” you laughed un controllably while spenxer rolled his eyes

“they don’t call me y/n “gin rummy god” l/n for nothing!”

he perched his face in his hands, staring up at your giggly face that still remained seated on his desk

“who calls you that”

“everyone! and now you have to!”

he laughed, pulled out his phone went to his contacts

he typed in

“y/n “pretty okay at gin rummy” l/n”

he showed you the screen

“happy?”

you squinted in to read it

“very”

———-

it didn’t take very much longer until you and spencer were dating

it happened one day on the jet, you were flying home and while sitting next to spencer instinctually laid your head on his shoulder

that wasn’t too abnormal, but spencer bent his neck down to kiss you softly on the forehead

you looked at him

he looked at you

finally an action that couldn’t be written off as platonic

with scared eyes he looked at you, looking like he had just committed a grave crime

as he had forgotten that you two were not dating, you had forgotten that the entire team was also on that jet

so you grabbed his face and kissed him, kissed him long, gently wrapping your arms around his neck, until you heard an “ahem” from derek

“finally”

he laughed, you and spencer just stared at each other an also burst into laughter, and from then on, you were his girl, his love, his object of adoration, his lady

—-

3 months into your relationship, spencer had gotten a concussion

he was okay, just unable to fly

you were about to board the jet, face buried in spencers shoulder

“i don’t have to go spencer”

“yes, yes you do”

“i don’t want to leave you”

“y/n i will survive, and it’s not like i’m gonna be alone in the office, i’ll be consulting virtually through garcia”

you pressed a kiss to his lips

“okay, i’ll miss you”

“miss you too”

you let go of his hand and jogged up to emily who was boarding the plane

“you two are vile” she said laughing

“not funny!”

-

the case was tough, even tougher with spencer not around

though he and garcia made quite the duo

“hey spencer could you call y/n for me? i’m on this line with derek”

“yeah of course”

he pressed your contact on his favorite list

your name saved as “m’lady”

garcia noticed immediately

“m’lady?! M’LADY??? if you two aren’t the cutest pair of 18th century literature nerds i don’t know what is”

he giggled, you picked up the phone

“spence?”

garcia started shouting

“Y/N YOU SUcK! YOU AND YOUR PERFECT ADORABLE RELATIONSHIP WITH CUTE LITTLE CONTACT NAMES! HAVE SOME MERCY FOR THE SINGLE PEOPLE HUH?”

you started to laugh

“garcia do you have that list of names i asked for?”

——-

4 years, 1 built in library, and 3 cats later

spencer knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you

it was a warm saturday, and you and spencer went to the museum of natural sciences

you were standing in front of the aquatic birds exhibit

you were reading the swan description

“swan, largest waterfowl species of the subfamily anserinae, family anatidae. most swans are classified in the genus cygnus. swans are gracefully long-necked, heavy-bodied, big-footed birds that glide majestically when swimming and fly with slow wingbeats and with necks outstretched. swans mate for life, and can actually die from heart break if their partner dies, interesting”

“yeah, swans are usually a symbol of love and marriage”

“how sweet, such romantic birds”

spencer took your hand

“i’m gonna love you forever, just like these swans”

he kissed your forehead

“forever and ever spence?”

he got down on one knee

“forever and ever”

-

you wanted to wait until the perfect moment to tell the team, refraining from wearing your ring until you two could figure it out, but by an unfortunate accident, they secret was out

“hey y/n, i didn’t get a chance to save your number earlier, would you mind?”

an officer at the local precinct was asking you, as to have a more direct way of contact

the entire team was sitting around a table as you typed your number into the officers phone

“oh and y/n i’m sorry how do you spell your last name”

“r-e-i-d, reid”

you froze

in most of your circles you already started going by spencer’s last name, this detail slipped your mind

derek was the first to say something

“WHAT”

then emily

“YOU TWO?”

you and spencer looked at each other

“okay, we’re in engaged”

the entire team started hugging and cheering, the rest of the precinct joining in

“so when were you planning to tell us?” hotch asked with a raised eyebrow

you laughed

“would you believe me if i said that contact name incident was planned?”

[gingersnapwolves]

Kouri watches Nirvana in Fire, episodes 52-54

Let’s goooooooooooooooooooo

Consort Jing is just the baddest bitch and I love her so much

Mei Changsu you are talking about coming back in 4 or 5 years like you are not lucky Jingyan doesn’t plan to tie you up and keep you in his house

They’re out here ruining my fic thoughts like ‘Jingyan doesn’t even need to get married and have kids, he has Tingsheng!’ with Imperial rules and shit

Oh my GOD he is giving him the PEARL that is the most ROMANTIC thing asdgkahjsdlkfglajfga

NOW KISS!!!!

I am staring in rapt attention but also those beads on the Emperor’s hat are FUCKING DISTRACTING

Okay him falling down the stairs is objectively hilarious

It’s impossible to feel bad for the Emperor given that his problems are entirely self-inflicted. Like dude, get it together.

Consort Jing for Queen of Everything

Lin Shu: bold of you to think I want to stick around this hellhole

What’s the symbolism of the red cloth over the memorial tablet, would someone mind explaining? I mean, I get that it’s Lin Shu’s tablet and he’s not actually dead, but why wouldn’t they just take the tablet down?

Suddenly, everyone’s attacking at once? *side eye*

YUJINNNN!!! JINGRUIIIIIIII!!!!! BEST FRIENDS REUNITED!

Me? Sobbing like a little girl? It’s exactly as likely as you would think.

Did you REALLY just promise him you’d come back you compulsive fucking liar

So like . . . I was prepared for the ending. And I don’t think it’s bad ending, although I definitely think it’s a sad ending. I get Mei Changsu’s choice and it was his right to make it. I wish he’d been honest with the others but I also get that they probably would have hog-tied him and thrown him in a basement or something.

Although tbh I have to give the side eye to the fact that Jingyan, known for military skill and competent governance, employed only Old Generals Who Don’t Actually Do War

In any case, my main complaint about the ending was that there were so many people we didn’t see! They had a cute clip of Jingyan’s kid and Tingsheng, which was obviously incredibly adorable, and we see Meng Zhi along with the ministers. But what about Xia Dong and her furry husband? Did Mu Qing ride south with his sister? How are Jingrui and his mom doing? What about Yujin, who definitely married Gong Yu and you can’t convince me otherwise? How’s Fei Liu handling post Su-gege life???

And there are characters we don’t even know what happened to! Whatever happened to Qin Banruo after she was captured? What about Xia Qiu? Was Xia Dong ever able to explain to him what had happened?

On the upside, the Emperor seems to have died, so that’s a plus.

Don’t get me wrong, I know that this show was dense. I saw a description saying ‘every scene is load-bearing’. But I still feel like it would have been nice to cut down a bit on the musical numbers and making the audience cry to check in with a few other people.

Especially Yujin

I just *clenches fist* love him so much okay

ETA: given the lack of dialogue, it is 100% possible to assume that Lin Chen came up with a miraculous antidote to the Bingxu Pill and Mei Changsu is off living in Jianghu. Who knows what that letter to Nihuang actually said? Jingyan could just be holding a funeral for Lin Shu because it’s easier if everyone thinks he’s dead! Now he can just sneak back into the city as a commoner and he and Jingyan can have secret visits together and he and Jingrui and Yujin are all great friends.

Yeah, that totally works. I’mma go with that.

[threadofdestiny]

Magnolia (Bakugou x f!Reader)

Feudal Japan AU

Shogun!Bakugou x Midoriya’s sister!reader

Summery: Her mother, lady Midoriya Inko, had once told her that the gods had predestined a path for every single person. All she had to do was follow the path and trust that it would lead her to happiness. But how could (Y/N) find happiness in a political formed marriage with her brother’s rival, a man known for being brutal and cold hearted?

Warnings: sexual content in later chapters / period-typical-sexism / strong language / violence / Drama / Angst / Fluff / Slow Burn/ political marriage / Reader is Izuku's sister / period-typical-discriptions like vague mentions of longer hair to form typical hairstyles or specific wardrobe / Bakugou is not good at feelings / Bakugou is a mean, explosive boi / third-person perspektive

Wattpad

AO3

If someone wants to be tagged, just let me know :)

Taglist: @bakugous-mamas​, @bnhastories​

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Vermilion

The night after (Y/N) found out that she was engaged with Bakugou Katsuki, was immensly exhausting. She had barely been able to find any sleep. Plagued by nightmares, she had tossed and turned in her bed until she had given up trying to find any rest after the first rays of sun peeked through her closed curtains. Her brother had hesitantly tried to describe what he knew about her future husband and although his descriptions remained vague and superficial, the young Miss Midoriya was quite good at reading between his meaningless lines.

„Bakugou is a loyal man of the crown who always act in its interest."

„He is a strong-willed and talented swordsman, who would be able to provide a safe home for you."

„He may be said to be rough tempered, but I am sure he will always treat you well."

It hadn't felt like Izuku had tried to lie to her. In a way, he had seemed to be convinced of his statements... and yet... no matter how many positive words he had used, his face had allways betrayed how worried he had been nonetheless. As if there had been a number of concerns that had slumbered right under his surface, which he eventually had not dared to express. (Y/N) had quickly realized that her brother had deliberately kept his true opinions to himself. She knew that he only had wanted to encourage her, but at night, while she had been all alone by herself, she had not been able to prevent her thoughts from wandering along darker places.

It was said that Bakugou's eyes were tinted in the blood of his enemies he had shed over the years as a Samurai. Those cruel red eyes hunted her within her dreams, followed her no matter which direction she had turned and found her no matter where she had tried to hide herself.

His mercilessness and explosive personality were almost as notorious as his talent with the sword. It was said that he had no qualms about turning his blade even on innocent people. These rumors, created the visions of screaming shadows within her sleep. Their cries echoed like panicked pleas to be spared by him, but the ground on which (Y/N) had stood was flooded in red non the less. Those imaginations had plagued the youngest Midoriya through the entire night, haunting her mercilessly until she had lain wide awake in her bed. With widened eyes she had stared up at her ceiling, while she had tried to imagine the man who was going to be her husband.

When (Y/N) had got up a few hours later, she had been incredibly exhausted. She had tried not to let it show, but she could not prevent her thoughts from drifting away over and over again. She had spent the morning as usual at her mother's side, who, in addition to her usual duties as the female head of the household, had also received several guests. Some of them had been mothers of various bachelors, who had cautiously tried to win Lady Inko over for a potential marriage, but all of them had been discreetly put off by the mistress of the house, without her telling them about the still unofficial engagement between Bakugou Katsuki and her precious daughter.

Now, however, the young girl sat alone with her mother and brother, lost in thoughts, at a richly set table that had been placed in the shade on the roofed engawa of their estate. The young debutante ponderously let her gaze glide over the well-tended garden, unable to fully absorb the true beauty of the scenery which spread out in front of her. With dulled thoughts, (Y/N) contented herself with impassively observing the birds as they bustled about the branches of the flowering magnolia in the middle of their courtyard, while she pondered over the missed opportunities to collect more marriageable candidates for her to choose from.

"I wish I could cheer you up a bit, my dear.", Lady Inko snapped her daughter out of her mopey thoughts after a few minutes of silence, as she carefully set the ornate teapot down between them. Slowly, (Y/N) raised her gaze, only to find that her mother had poured tea for her and her brother, although this would actually have been the youngest Midoriya's task. Swallowing, she bowed her head apologetically before gratefully grasping the warm porcelain of her cup. "Thank you, mother.", (Y/N) whispered, before she carefully pursed her lips to cool the warm liquid with gentle puffs.

"Do not despair. Who knows maybe you will learn to feel deeply for the young shogun. The gods sometimes shape the strangest paths for a person and yet it all makes sense in the end.", Lady Midoriya carefully reassured her daughter as Izuku tried not to choke on his own drink. "Who knows, Izu-chan probably would have introduced you to gentlemen like the youngest son of the Iida family, or the heir of the Kaminari family, who also have their residents in the capital. Both of these gentlemen are known to you. What do you think of them? Wouldn't the gods have led you to them if they thought that they would be the right choice for you?", she asked, knowing what her daughter would think, while gently patting her son's arm in reassurance. "Mother...please! I don't really think that this is helpful.", Izuku mumbled into his teacup as he averted his eyes from the ladies of his household. The latter, however, just waved it off with a soft smile before pushing the plate of pastries in her children's direction. Gulping down the warming tea, (Y/N) suppressed a sigh before engaging in her mother's musings:"Well... ", she began cautiously, taking a deep breath, before she continued: "I'd say one of Iida-sama's greatest qualities is his erudition! He's a very intelligent man.", the youngest Midoriya murmured vaguely, but at the same time she thought of his stiff manners. He was a strict man who did not seem to welcome curious woman. (Y/N) was a passionate reader, who acquired all kinds of knowledge. This would certainly not be a problem, she thought, but with theoretical knowledge often came the need to try out practical skills, and this was not always appropriate for a girl of her status. What would Iida say if he knew that the little sister of one of his best friends, for example, liked to shoot with a bow?

"and... Kaminari-sama's energetic nature is quite contagious and exhilarating!", (Y/N) added after a short pause, having remembered her mother's questions again. Thoughtfully, her mind wandered to the open-hearted blond man, while she remembered how she had often observed him flirting shamelessly with various ladies. Moreover, she had been dismayed to discover in the past that, unlike Iida, he seemed to avoid reading of any kind. It would have made it difficult to have a conversation with him that went beyond superficial topics. When she thought about it, these men would certainly not have been people with whom (Y/N) could have imagined a future on the first sight. Perhaps just like her mother had said, she should actually remind herself once again that not everything had to make sense immediately. Maybe the gods had actually set a path for her. But it was just so incredibly hard to see the positive in her situation and to keep herself open minded. She took it upon herself, but the thought that her mother might be wrong made her skin crawl in anxiety.

"I think it's all a matter of adjustment. After the gods have given me a path, it is up to me to walk along it.", she finished her terse answers half-heartedly.

The debutante's enumeration came to an abrupt end when her personal maid, Mina, announced herself with an apologetic clearing of her throat. When (Y/N) turned around, the young girl was surprised to see another unfamiliar female standing next to her, her upper body almost completely covered by a huge bouquet of colorful flowers. The various blossoms shone in full bloom, some of which normally should not even have been in their actual blooming season. No matter who had sent this bouquet, it must have cost a small fortune.

"Forgive the intrusion, my lord, but I was instructed to lead this young girl to you and your family.", the cheerful servant began, bowing as she folded her arms behind her back. The unassuming girl next to Mina also bowed dutifully, despite the fact that the bouquet certainly did not make it easy for her. "T-This is a gift for Miss Midoriya, my Lord!", the girl explained quietly, while she showcased the flowers with a bowed head. Izuku gave the young girls a gentle smile before raising his scarred hand in a placating gesture. "What a splendid bouquet.", his mother remarked with curious gentleness before turning to smile bittersweetly at her daughter, who had also put on a discreet smile on her lips. "Which of the noble lords had send this bouquet, Mina-chan?", asked (Y/N) with mild curiosity as she rose to take a closer look at the flowers. She knew better than to be lulled by anyone other than her fiancé, but the plants seemed so expensive and rare that it would be a shame not to give them some attention. Even more so when a maid of the local household brought them over personally. It could be taken as an affront against the noble,if she would simply ignore the gift.

"They're from the young shogun, Bakugou-sama, Miss (Y/N)!", replied Mina excitedly, as she clapped her hands together in front of her chest. "He also sends word that he will be visiting Midoriya-sama towards the evening to negotiate the wedding matters.", the unknown servant added. A loud clang sounded behind the girls, who flinched in surprise. Shocked, (Y/N) turned to her brother, whose teacup had slipped from his hand. A multitude of emotions spread across the face of her brother, but his discomfort seemed to stand out the most. The tension in his face clearly showed that Izuku was not happy about the news, but he nodded non the less.

.

.

.

The knowledge that Bakugou Katsuki would enter the Midoriya family estate that very evening had caused an incredible uneasiness in (Y/N)'s stomach. Uncertainty and curiosity tried to gain the upper hand of her shaken feelings, while she had tried to continue her day as usual, but even the surprise visit of her friend, Ochako, had not been enough to successfully distract her. No matter how hard (Y/N) had tried to follow her friend's recounting of her evening last night, the young Midoriya simply hadn't been able to block out the loitering feeling of nervousness.

Izuku had retired to his study some time ago when a servant had informed him that the shogun had finally arrived. The ladies of the house had not yet seen their second guest of the evening, but all present had felt the tension that had settled around them like a thick fog. At this very moment, Izuku and her fiance negotiated about important aspects, which would determine her entire future life. Lost in her troubled thoughts, (Y/N) imagined how they possibly were talking about her dowry at this moment, or setting the date of their wedding, while the young girl did not even know what her future husband looked like. Would he introduce himself to her tonight? Did he even care that they were actually only a few meters and a few thin walls apart from each other at this very moment?

"Hey... (Y/N)... how about we take a stroll through your backyard, streching our legs out for a bit?", Ochako carefully interrupted her friend's train of thought when she noticed that (Y/N) was starting to drift off again. Surprised, the young girl tore her gaze from the bouquet of flowers that had been placed on an ornamental table next to the salon's open sliding doors. "I'd love to.", (Y/N) answered as she blinked a few times, before setting down her cooled teacup, that had rested in her palms unmoved for a few minutes. Followed by the brunette debutante, she entered the gardens of the Midoriya family estate, which directly bordered the salon in which they had sat before.

The gentle breeze that playfully blew around them made the leaves and branches of the plants dance to the music of the birds, while the rays of the late afternoon sun engulfed their surroundings in radiant light. In the midst of a sea of lush green trees, lawns and bushes, the blooming magnolia that her grandfather had planted for her grandmother many years ago as a testament to his true love towards her, stood out in its proud splendor. Since then, it has bloomed every spring with its soft pink and white blossoms in the center of their small idyllic paradise.

Sighing, (Y/N) looked up into said treetop as she arrived at the precious memento accompanied by her friend. "My apologies for being so absent today.", the youngest Midoriya murmured before turning to Ochako, who looked at her with a sad expression on her round face. Shaking her head, the young brown-haired girl put on a smile as she folded her hands in front of her. "Don't worry about it. I understand how you feel. It's certainly overwhelming to be promised by the emperor to one of his subordinates right after your performance the day before yesterday."

Nodding hesitantly, (Y/N) stroked the gauzy white fabric of her upper robe, smoothing it over the lower burgundy wide sleeves. With erratic fingers, she then ran them over the gold threaded embroidered obi, adjusting the decorative ribbons that hung down the sides of her traditional gown. Seeking distraction, (Y/N)'s gaze wandered to the closed doors of her brother's study, which also adjoined the gardens they were strolling through. Knowing that behind those thin walls, hidden away from her gaze, was her fiancé speaking to Izuku, made her incredibly nervous. Quickly the youngest Midoriya turned away to look at her friend again, not able to gaze towards her home any longer. She didn't dare to look into the round window, which was supposed to let daylight into the room behind, for fear of having to face reality once and for all. At the moment her fate was still completely surreal for her, but what if she would see the man she was going to marry soon? It would make her whole destiny so much more real.

"I know it is an honor that the Emperor himself asked for this allegiance, but I must admit that this sudden change of events churn me a bit!" Ochako nodded in understanding before also looking thoughtfully in the direction of the house. "You know... The other side of the coin has its downsides, too. My father can barely afford the standard of living we have to lead as nobles. It will be difficult to find a family that will be satisfied with the little influence and the small dowry I am able to provide...", she murmured gloomily. Briefly, the young Miss Uraraka's expression changed as she looked longingly at the window that leads to her brother's study. How could (Y/N) have thought so selfishly only of herself, when she knew that her friend had it at least as hard as she did. With a fluid motion, the youngest Midoriya placed her hand on her friends upper arm as she stepped a little closer to her. "I wish I could support you somehow!", (Y/N) murmured comfortingly. "You know, you are really very very lucky. Your brother... I mean, Midoriya-sama will definitely make sure that you'll be fine by Bakugou-sama's side! He would never let him hurt you!", assured Ochako again with newfound energy as she confidently turned back to the daughter of the house. The sadness that had previously gleamed in the brunette girl's eyes had vanished without a trace. Sympathetically, (Y/N) smiled at her friend, knowing that she did not want to talk about the subject any further. Just as she was about to change the direction of their conversation, the sound of sliding doors distracted the two girls instantly.

Immediately, (Y/N) looked up to direct her gaze towards the house, only to finally discover her brother in the doorway of his study. When she realized that there were two other unknown figures standing behind him in the shadows of the room, the young Midoriya's breath caught for a moment. Two finely dressed, tall men slowly stepped into the light of the sun and, accompanied by Izuku, headed purposefully towards the young ladies. One of them had ash blond spiky hair, who was followed by a red-haired warrior. The clothes and the traditional katana they carried distinguished them as nobles of the sword, but it was quite clear even from a distance that the blond man stood rank-technically above the redheads. His attire was a bit more finer, than the others, but it was mainly the nature of his attitude that betrayed him the most. He came towards her as if he owned the ground on which he walked. Everything about his aura demanded that they had to submit to him.

Bakugou Katsuki.

At the sight of the handsome, albeit somber looking man, (Y/N)'s heart began to take a few leaps until it finally began to pound wildly against her chest.

"O-Oh, by the gods. Th-That has to be the shogun.", Ochako breathed softly. The young Midoriya could hear the trembling in her friend's voice, but she had to give her credit for standing firm just like (Y/N), trying not to let her intimidation show. A tepid breeze caused the light hanfu robes the two ladies wore, to dance around their legs, while a few petals of the magnolia blossoms rained down upon them. Despite the fact that she was surrounded by fresh spring air, (Y/N) felt like she couldn't catch her breath while facing the formidable gentleman. However, she didn't know if it was due to the unawareness of the powerful man's reaction towards her, or if perhaps this feeling had a completely different origin.

The expression in the gaze that Bakugou Katsuki had directed at the figure of the young Midoriya could only be described as penetrating, attentive and calculating. She had never met a person who was able to conjure up such an aura with only his bare focused eyes. Only briefly did he detach his attention from her to look at Ochako with his sharp gaze. Izuku's posture was tense as he walked up to his sister beside the shogun. Bakugou, on the other hand, looked as if he wasn't the least bit interested in the whole situation. He strode confidently towards his fiance, while his chimney red eyes once again stared down at her warily.

His gaze had been enough to free (Y/N) from her rigidity and ensured that she finally managed to get herself to move accordingly. Just before his arrival, she fell into a deep curtsy, which at that moment was more of a testament to her brilliant muscle memory, than a conscious act. But she managed to remember her manners, chastely lowering her gaze and remaining in the offering position long enough for the gentlemen to come to a stop in front of her and her close friend.

"So, this is your sister? Well, she truly is a lovely creature, Midoriya-san.", interrupted a friendly but unfamiliar voice the emerging silence. (Y/N) attributed it to the red-haired man, because the pitch seemed too friendly to belong to the notorious shogun. With downcast eyelids, she listened how her brother thanked his guest as he slowly moved to stand beside her smaller frame. The youngest Midoriya still hadn't lifted her gaze entirely, knowing that it was not proper for an unmarried woman to lift her eyes without further ado. However, her mind remained by the fact that the red haired men had spoken up before her fiance had said a word. It had surprised (Y/N), after all he was in the company of someone who outranked him. She had rarely seen anyone dare to speak openly in front of those who were above them.

"Oi, lift your gaze and look at me, girl!", growled Bakugou suddenly, without uttering a word of greeting. His companion clicked his tongue softly when he heard how his leader approached his fiance, while Izuku began to tense up in front of the shogun. Immediately, (Y/N) raised her fluttering eyelids and fixed her gaze on the nobleman's handsome face. Did Bakugou want her to look him in the eyes?

Despite her inner uncertainty, the young Midoriya's gaze wandered over the sharp edges of his contours until finally they slowly collided with the young shogun's iris.

Vermilion

His eyes had a vermilion color.

(Y/N) could understand why so many scary rumors circulated about the color of his eyes, but her first association was not the one she had heard from others. She could see why people associated them with the blood of his enemies, but the youngest Midoriya first thoughts were of the deep red of the sky as soon as the rising sun blinked out just a few inches above the horizon. Then, when the world was almost still haunted by the blackness of the night, before it was slowly but surely chased away by the first warm rays of pure light.

With quick breaths, (Y/N) looked speechlessly at her future husband while trying to suppress the nervous trembling of her body. She could sense Ochako behind her, shifting her weight, shocked as she tried to take in the spectacle in front of her as well. (Y/N), however, continued to do as she was commanded and looked bravely into the face of the shogun. It showed the indomitable will which lay dormant in the depths of his body. The will that was able to break even the strongest fighting spirit of his opponents. The youngest Midoriya knew that she should have felt fear at the sight of him, but all she could think of was the envy that arose in her when she realized what a strong character must reside in this man. How much power he posessed at such a young age.

Silence spread like a heavy blanket over the five nobles, all waiting for the highest ranked to speak again, but Bakugou seemed to be in no hurry. Almost testing, he delayed the moment as he looked down at her in a scrutinizing manner.

"Bakugou Katsuki.", her fiancé finally introduced himself impassively after nodding towards her. For a moment she had thought that she saw a positive emotion in the features of her future husband, but after just a single blink, the moment had already passed away. One more time, (Y/N) sank into a curtsy before putting on a shy, shaky smile. "Midoriya (Y/N). It's an honor to meet you, your grace.", she replied kindly. Silence spread out between the present, while the young couple looked at each other closely. However, Bakugou's companion broke it again before it was getting to be too awkward, waving at her with a radiant smile on his lips:"If I may introduce myself as well. My name is Kirishima Eijirou. I am one of the samurai who followed Bakugou-sama's lead. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Midoriya and Miss eh?"

Surprised that the young man next to the young shogun had again simply spoken up without hesitation, (Y/N)'s attention briefly swung to the red-haired, muscular samurai. How was it that he dared to speak even though his superior was standing right next to him? Bakugou, however, didn't seem to mind, as he waited a short moment, while Ochako hastily introduce herself, without taking his eyes off of (Y/N).

After the brown-haired girl finished her introduction, the shogun  cleared his throat in desinterest. He paid no further attention to his future wife's guest, clearly intending on keeping the conversation as short as possible as he began to declair in a business-like manner: "The negotiations for our engagement have been completed. After the proper engagement period has passed, I will come back to the capital to perform the wedding with you. Until then, I will travel back to my estate in the north." Overwhelmed by the statement, the young Midoriya swallowed down the rising lump before nodding hesitantly: "W-When will you be leaving?", the young lady asked after collecting herself. "In a week!" "In a week? But...", (Y/N) gasped, before breaking off her sentence. It was not her place to object, but she had hoped to at least meet Bakugou a few times before having to marry him.

Kirishima quickly stepped in again, smiling and trying to lighten the mood a bit, after noticing that his leader would say nothing in reply: "Duty calls, milady. But once we're back in town, Bakugou-sama will certainly be able to take up more time to get to know you before the wedding.", he suggested with a bright smile as he bumped his fists against each other in a confident manner. "Maybe... but now Kirishima and I will have to leave! The negotiatons took too much of my time already.", the shogun gave out without showing any interesest in indulgin any of them.

Surprised, (Y/N)'s eyes widened at the curt statement. Had she done something wrong? Why did he want to leave so soon, if he would be gone within the next week? Was he upset that she hadn't been able to hold her tongue? Swallowing, she searched the man's face for an answer, but could find no clues in his closed off expression. Strangely, a trace of disappointment spread through her as she watched the blond man resolutely incline his head in a farewell. Immediately, the youngest Midoriya and Ochako fell back into a deep curtsy as they bowed their heads in supplication.

Before (Y/N) could straighten up again, however, she felt a small oblong box being pressed into her hands. For a brief moment, rough, long fingers brushed against hers, but when she looked up in surprise, she realized miserably that Bakugou, who gave her the gift, had already turned away from her. With a wildly beating heart, she pressed the wooden box to her chest as she watched how Bakugou, was walking away from her without any hesitation in his steps.

How could she face her destiny and fight for her happiness when she was given no choice to do so? If she let him go without another word, wouldn't she have already failed in her purpose? She had to use the time she had left and pray that the gods would lead her graciously. On impulse, (Y/N) took a leap forward despite her intimidated self, before trying to build a bridge between Bakugou and her, even if it meant that she had to use her voice:"T-The spring Festival!" A shiver ran down her spine as the youngest Midoriya saw the shogun pause and turn to face her. "The festival to celebrate the cherry blossoms. The day after tomorrow evening in the emperor's gardens. W-will you be there, your Grace?", she asked, after having scraped together all of her courage. She could see Kirishima turn around as well and look at her with another radiant smile, while her brother looked like he was about to faint. Bakugou, on the other hand, looked at her appraisingly for a few moments before raising his shoulders in a vague gesture. "I'll be busy with the preparation for the following journey!", he replied impassively as he spun around again. Dejectedly, (Y/N) lowered her gaze, before she suddenly heard how her fiancé continued to speak: "I'll see if I can spare some time."

Eyes widening, (Y/N) gazed after Bakugou as she tried to comprehend what he had just uttered. A shaky smile spread across her lips before she bowed again, though the Shogun could not see this while he headed to the entrance of the estate. "Thank you. I look forward to eventually meeting you there."

[purrincess-chat]

Cat’s Definitive Ranking of Every ML Episode as of 4/22/21

Are you guys ready for this? I did the thing. You’re all welcome. Don’t ever ask me for anything again. You can watch me get progressively more unhinged in real time. 

Now, just to preface this, I did not give this too much thought. Most of these are just my gut feelings. I went through every episode and just made some snap judgments based off the lasting impressions I’ve been left with. These are my opinions. If you don’t like them, tough. And also I don’t care. Go spend 4 hours making your own damn ranking. And shut the hell up. Anyway, this is probably the longest post I’ve ever made, so I’m gonna put it all under a read more. Click on it if you have an hour to read it. Okay, here we go!

1.     Origins II- Good starting point for our heroes. Good establishment of canon ships and character dynamics. Umbrella scene literally stole my wallet. Cannot emphasis enough that I am whipped for the umbrella scene. I wrote a whole ass AU just to say how whipped I am for the umbrella scene. In the Rain will play at my wedding. Jk. Weddings are for suckers. But dammit if I don’t want these kids to get married. 10/10

2.     Origins I- Good introduction to lore. Good introduction to characters. Good establishment of status quoyo. Just good. 10/10

3.     Simon Says- Listen, I am nothing if not a shipper at heart. This episode just sparks joy. And the whole series almost ended when Gabriel almost jumped off the roof. I was really rooting for this one. This was the episode where I saw Ladrien and went yes, ma’am, I’ll have one of those. 10/10

4.     Evillustrator- Are you all surprised? Cat, the MC-skeptic ranked the pivotal MC episode so highly? Well, let me tell you all a thing, I started this fandom out a MC shipper because of this episode. Their first interaction is gold. I don’t deny that. I enjoy it. This is the MC dynamic I fell in love with. Yall toxic shippers ruined MC for me when you opened your mouths and spat in the face of Ladrien and baselessly declared MC the sin-ship. We all know it’s Ladrien. Stop kidding yourselves. Boy in leather catsuit? Please. Basic ass vanilla bitches. I’m getting off-topic. Solid episode 10/10. We love to see it.

5.     Stormy Weather- Baby’s first Miraculous episode. It holds a special place in my heart. It’s a solid episode. Good establishment of what the show is. Fun villain. Good times. Fond memories. 10/10

6.     Riposte- Listen, I know I’m an Adrinette stan, but hear me out: Ladrien. It’s just so good. And Kagami was compelling in this episode. It was just really solid. It’s my favorite s2 episode. If you ask me if I want to rewatch Riposte, the answer is always yes. 10/10. We stan.

7.     Gorizilla- Okay, so this episode has some solid Adrinette in it, but the real reason it ranks so high is that fucking Ladrien trust fall. I stare at that scene for hours, you guys. HOURS. It is absolutely just *chefs kiss*. Sometimes when I need a pick-me-up, I just go watch gifs of that catch on loop. 10/10. Beautiful. Radiant. Carefree.

8.     Gang of Secrets- I have been keeping most of my opinions to myself about s4 (mostly because I’ve backed way the hell out of this fandom), but GoS was pretty solid. Gotta say, it’s the first episode in a long time with this show that made me actually excited to see what happens next. Most other episodes I was like, okay, that was cute. The show is still meh overall. But GoS really got me like oh shit, is ML good again? 10/10 for making me feel things again.

9.     Oblivio- Told you guys this one was probably rated higher than I thought. Oblivio is just really fun. There is good Adrinette. That “No wonder I fell in love with you” paired with the softest of Adrien smiles just sends me. And the kisses. The unquestionable trust. These two kids literally woke up together alone in an elevator with no memories and said welp, you’re my boyfriend/girlfriend obviously, I don’t make the rules. Honestly, how anyone could argue that these two dorks aren’t made for each other after that episode is beyond me. 9/10

10.  Backwarder- Okay, I know I am weird and alone for this one, but I really liked this episode. It got a lot of shit for the constipation capsule thing at the end, but like who cares? We finally got some more backstory on Fu. He got a love-interest who is dope as hell. This episode is my favorite lucky charm use ever. Like that queen DID that. I like Backwarder, guys! Fuck off. 9/10.

11.  Kwamibuster- We all know I am a Marinette-stan by this point, but our girl was SHINING this episode. This bitch said gimme all them and let me go whoop this bitch’s ass, and she DID. Hawkmoth could never. Multimouse is a gift, and Marinette is a boss ass queen.  9/10

12.  Chat Blanc- Listen, this episode was very good. I enjoy the idea of my children being happy in another timeline somewhere very much. We got all 4 sides of the square in an episode. It’s just really solid. I know this is the fandom’s favorite, and everyone is gonna shit their pants because it didn’t make my top 10, but this is my list. So, I put it at number 12. It’s good. I like it. It just didn’t steal my wallet like other episodes did. Put the pitchforks down. It’s gonna be okay, you can still love it more than me. 8/10

13.  New York Special- I know everyone felt some type of way about this special, but I wasn’t mad at it. My perception of it might be clouded because I watched it in Disney World where I was chilling and having a great time, but like this special really did somethings for me. The Adrinette was top tier. Tippy top tier. Even though they hurt us in the end, I am okay with it because it just means the children will grow and come out stronger. I don’t care if it’s not technically canon. Ask me if I give a fuck. I don’t. I had fun here. 8/10. Solid.

14.  The Collector- This one might shock a lot of you, but let me paint you a scene. It’s the first episode of s2. We have just come off a 2 year hiatus. The fandom is thriving. We’re hungry for canon content. We have hopes and dreams and expectations. Everyone is going wild with theories. This episode confirmed something that was long since obvious (in my opinion) and ended the stupid arguments people had been having. It made Gabriel actually seem semi-competent. We got our first taste of how Chat/Adrien will react to his dad being Hawkmoth. We got a peek at their life. Adrien’s isolation and sadness. They were so close to figuring it out. The battle was epic. Like Collector really had them on the ropes there for a second. It’s a solid episode, yall. I’m not wrong. Hate me all you want, but this episode brought it. 8/10

15.  Despair Bear- Is this episode up this high because of the Adrinette slow dance scene? YOU BET YOUR ASS IT IS. Okay, but fr though, shipping aside, this episode gave us hope that Chloe was actually gonna redeem herself. I mean, she didn’t but, we didn’t know that at the time. Seeing her run around trying to be nice was fun. And then she actually did something good, and we had a moment of okay, she’s capable. We’ll get there. We didn’t. But what a ride this episode was for making us think she would. 8/10

16.  Startrain- Cat, you’re just ranking all the Adrinette episodes highest. And? What of it? Are you surprised? You clicked a blog that has simping for Adrinette in the description, and you’re surprised all my favorite episodes have Adrinette? I’m not wrong, you’re just an idiot. The Adrinette nap cuddles aside though, this was a pretty good episode. If you don’t think too hard about the whole space thing, we got a look at Max’s life, his mom is a driven, smart lady doing her best. Adrien rebels against papa for once. Alya stops a Lila scheme. Chloe gets to play the hero. Alya and Nino actually investigate like the heroes they are. Gabriel gets to realize what a dumbass bitch he is. I mean. Guys. Startrain is solid. 7.5/10

17.  Sapotis- This one shot up in rank for me after GoS, but tbh it’s always been a solid episode. Alyanette sleepover? Check. Alya becoming a superhero? Check. It’s a fun episode. And looking back, it’s nicely called back to later in GoS. We love it. 7.5/10

18.  Sandboy- Idk why I enjoy this episode as much as I do, but I do. Sandboy is a cute bean. I love his aesthetic. We also get hilarious looks at everyone’s nightmares. “Plagg, who turned you into a sock?” cracks me up cause like Adrien, bby, no XD And Chat Noir’s nightmare. I think it would have been interesting though if since Sandboy dusted the Agreste mansion, if we got a peek at Hawkmoth’s nightmares. It would have been a nice hint of plot to go along with Master Fu’s nightmare. Also Plagg giving the akuma the slip like the clever boy we know he is deep down? 7.5/10

19.  Furious Fu- If you guys haven’t realized by now that I love Fu, idk what you’re doing. Pay attention. I know that some people don’t like him, but I’m just gonna say it, you’re wrong. Fu took care of the Miracle Box for over 100 years, and this episode kind of gives some insight to what the Order was like. Very strict. Lots of rules. And ya know what, Fu said fuck the police, I’m gonna befriend these little magical demigods, and fuck off! Like what an absolute legend. I was really happy to see him living his best life, and that he and Marianne got married because it’s what he deserves. We love to see it. 7.5/10

20.  Gamer- People like to shit on Marinette in this episode, but like honestly, if I were in her shoes, I’d have probably done the same thing if I had the skill. Ain’t nothing wrong with a girl trying to spend time with the boy she likes. And Tom and Sabine being absolute shipping trash. I love them. And the awkward Adrinette. The introduction of the lucky charm that Adrien STILL carries. Wholesome. This was a good episode for their friendship, and we love to see it. 7.5/10

21.  Christmaster- Okay, I know a lot of people hated this episode when it aired, but I thought it was really funny? Everyone skidding around in the ice rink was hilarious. If you don’t take this episode seriously, it’s really fun. Chris is pretty cute, and damn right Ladybug is the best kid in the world. Idk. This episode is fun. I’m not mad at it. Sue me. 7.5/10

22.  Weredad- What? Another MC-heavy episode in Cat’s top 30? Listen, I don’t hate canon MC. The fans just annoy me. This episode was funny. The secondhand embarrassment and cringe was real. Plagg taunting Adrien because he knows the secret was great. Marinette being a self-saving queen was great. It’s a good episode. I like MC, you guys. I do. I swear! 7.5/10

23.  Miraculer- This episode was interesting to me, and I think it’s still a good development episode. For one, Sabrina finally got her own akuma episode named after her. Secondly, because it’s a big step for Chloe, just not in the way we expected. It totally makes sense that Chloe can’t have her Miraculous back because literally everyone knows her identity. Can’t argue that logic. And she is the first person to ever refuse to become akumatized, so like mad respect. I know a lot of people had high hopes for redeemed Chloe (myself included), but I think watching a character fall from revering someone to hating them is also an interesting path. The friends to enemies arc as it were. Idk. I liked this episode. It was an opportunity for Chloe to grow, even if she didn’t in the end, but we’ll talk about that later. 7.5/10

24.  Lady Wifi- I like Alya. I feel like I don’t say that much, and people make some assumptions because of MDCSP, but MDCSP is just a concept I wanted to explore. It doesn’t really reflect how I feel about any one character. Except maybe Lila. And Gabe. But every other spite fic I’ve written branching from Chameleon, the class has been fine. Alya has been fine. So, let it be known that I like Alya. Lady Wifi was a fun episode. Putting aside the fact that she thought Chloe was Ladybug for no reason, I like her akuma. I like the interactions we get with LadyNoir in this episode. After GoS, this episode gets a bit funnier. It’s solid. 7/10

25.  Dark Cupid- I don’t have much to say about this one. LadyNoir. That’s it. That’s the tweet. Send it. 7/10

26.  Volpina- So many things about this episode. It introduced a new antagonist who we didn’t exactly 100% know was going to be an antagonist at the time. This episode sparked a lot of fun fan theories for a while. Who was Lila? How was she going to shake things up? Not to mention this episode gave us a taste of plot and lore, and set up Marinette meeting Master Fu officially. Lots of intrigue sparked from this episode. And that LadyNoir door scene? OOOOOO 7/10

27.  Hearthunter- One word: Adrigaminette. This episode was so cute for them! I loved seeing them all goofing and running around together. Adrien and Kagami being absolutely in love with Marinette when her hair is down. They both love her, I don’t make the rules. Not to mention, Marinette takes a big step by letting her friends be happy without her. Kagami not wanting to hurt Marinette. The drama!! Gabriel being a messy ass bitch to his friends. It loses points for the abomination of an akuma, but overall, I wasn’t too mad at it. Yet. 7/10

28.  Glaciator- More MC in Cat’s top 30? It’s more likely than you think. Listen. Listen… Listen. MC is fine. This episode was the closest thing to fanfiction that we got. The balcony scene was really sweet. I was drinking the irony. We got introduced to Andre the icecream fraud. Andre the please just give me the flavor I asked for man. I could have done without Chat pouting, but the LadyNoir in the end was pretty good. I wish they’d done more with Ladybug’s feelings for Chat. Had her question herself a bit more after this one, but overall, it’s cute. 7/10

29.  Zombizou- A lot of people started hating Mlle. Bustier after this episode, and like I can kind of see it, if I squint, but I did not draw that same conclusion from this episode. Mlle. Bustier just wants good things for all of her students. They’re 14 ffs, she just wants to be a good influence on all of her students and wants them all to be successful. But go off, I guess? Plus, this episode was basically just a spoof on zombie apocalypse movies. We got so many things. Julerose, Myvan, DJWifi. Chloe actually showing some depth and emotion. LadyNoir. We won this episode, babes. Sorry you didn’t get the memo. 7/10

30.  Timetagger- Okay. This is the last episode in the ones that I’d venture to call “good.” Number 30. I enjoyed Timetagger. I know people have feelings about timey-wimey bullshit, and like I’m not gonna lie and say I’m thrilled with it either (I mean, I changed the rabbit’s power in MDCSP) but that being said, Timetagger was so sassy. Bunnix was cool as hell. We get to see that LB and CN are still doing the thing in the future. So many questions sparked from this episode. It was fun. Idk. I liked it. That’s all I got. 7/10

31.  Malediktator- Okay, from this point on, less comments because this is the section that are more or less just meh to me. Like they’re fine. This episode was fine. Chloe was fine. Chat playing with the laser was cute. 6.5/10

32.  Mayura- Adrien’s speech at the end. Nuff said 6.5/10

33.  Ikari Gozen- Ryuko/Ryuuko. Gals being pals. 6.5/10

34.  Reflekdoll- I talked about this earlier, but I don’t hate this episode. It’s not as bad as people make it out to be. Sue me. 6.5/10

35.  Anansi- Nino is the goodest boy. Also I need more of the gang taking Adrien on adventures via Facetime. Stat. 6.5/10

36.  Shanghai- This one is new, and tbh I still haven’t watched it with subs, but I had a good time. Fei was cute. The boy squad was cute. Adrien bonding with Great Uncle Cheng was cute. Hawkmoth getting literally dunked on was *chefs kiss* 6.5/10

37.  Gigantitan- I love overly supportive, ride-or-die girl squad. 6.5/10

38.  Party Crasher- Idk why this episode was funny to me. Kim is the purest bean. We don’t deserve him. 6.5/10

39.  Desperada- This episode was an emotional roller coaster, and even though we all collectively hate Aspik’s stupid egghead, we love the Ladrien this episode provided us. 6/10

40.  Oni-chan- Listen, I loved seeing Lila get a tiny bit of karma even if she made it up in the end. I loved Chat going off on her. I loved seeing her get outsmarted in the end. 6/10

41.  Frightningale- My good lesbian Clara Nightingale. We stan. 6/10

42.  Style Queen- I like Audrey in a “she’s the worst person I’ve ever met, I want to travel the world with her” kind of way. She’s funny to me. Idk. I love her firing everyone. She’s the one I love to hate. She’s the worst, but we love her for it. Plus this episode gave us Plagg’s adorable little Cataclysm that destroyed half the city. 6/10

43.  Gamer 2.0- Chat confidently strutting in heels made this episode worth it. And we get to see the beginning of Marinette being overwhelmed. Plus it was the return of gamer!nette. 6/10

44.  Troublemaker- I don’t hate this episode as much as the next person either. It was fine. Jagged is a manchild, but we love him for it. He’s a Marinette stan which like mood. The Adrinette at the end was cute. I wasn’t mad at it. Idk. It’s fine. 6/10

45.  Reflekta- Where are all my Juleka stans at? I loved the LadyNoir banter in this ep. V. cute. 6/10

46.  Dark Owl- This episode was fun. And it really shows their level of trust. Plus Plagg and Tikki interacted. 6/10

47.  Timebreaker- Have I ever mentioned that I like Alix? I like Alix. 6/10

48.  Silencer- I don’t hate this episode as much as you’d expect me to, and that is 100% because of the LadyNoir. 5.5/10

49.  Prime Queen- Chat purrs. 5.5/10

50.  Syren- I think the fish power-up is adorable. Ondine is a gem. Kim is a pure bean, but we been knew. 5.5/10

51.  Befana- I like Gina, but this episode fell flat for me. Almost as flat as the animation. 5.5/10

52.  Reverser- Another episode that everyone hates that I am actually fine with. This episode made me like Nathaniel more. Probably because I was previously indifferent toward him. Marc is cute too. 5.5/10

53.  Mr. Pigeon- Marinette is one clever girl. And the Adrinette hand-touch. 5.5/10

54.  Felix- Felix is a gremlin of chaos. A true chaotic neutral. He gives his uncle the finger, and I think that’s beautiful. 5.5/10

55.  Truth- Bet you expected this episode to be higher. While I did enjoy watching toxic people’s world crumble, this episode still gets a meh from me dog. 5/10

56.  Lies- The Adrigami was cute, and I respect Kagami as a character. The akuma could have been better tho. 5/10

57.  Princess Fragrance- Not much to say here. 5/10

58.  Copycat- 5/10

59.  Bubbler- 5/10

60.  Mime- 5/10

61.  Animan- 5/10

62.  Robostus- 5/10

63.  Ladybug- This episode ranks this low purely because I don’t care about GabeNath, and I hate that Lila won something in the end. But Adrien saying I won’t hesitate, bitch! At the end was nice to see. 5/10

64.  Catalyst- I know I ranked Mayura way higher, but Catalyst fell flat for me. Like it was fine. Wasn’t as into it though. 4.5/10

65.  Puppeteer- One of my favorite lucky charm uses. 4.5/10

66.  Pixelator- My favorite Cataclysm. 4.5/10

67.  Horrificator- That almost-Adrinette kiss tho 4.5/10

68.  Pharaoh- 4.5/10

69.  Kung Food- 4.5/10

70.  Rogercop- 4/10

71.  Guitar Villain- 4/10

72.  Dark Blade- 4/10

73.  Bakerix- 4/10

74.  Antibug- And now onto the bottom 10. To start us off, I will just say: UGH, this episode annoyed me. First of all, Sabrina didn’t even get her own episode. Chloe was a piece of shit. Idk why they made Ladybug the one in the wrong when Chloe was being obnoxious. Ugh. 3/10

75.  Captain Hardrock- I’m gonna be honest. My apathy for this episode has grown into loathing. Toxic stans are 100% to blame. Birthday ruining, bitches. This is the reason I threw a breakup bash after Truth. Yall deserved it. 3/10

76.  Christmas Special- I didn’t hate this episode as much as everyone, but it still wasn’t great. 2.5/10

77.  Stormy Weather 2.0- This episode was really dumb. It didn’t need to exist. 2.0/10

78.  Queen Wasp- Why did we give Chloe a Miraculous after this episode? 2/10

79.  Animaestro- Did we really need a self-insert? Did we really? 2/10

80.  Puppeteer 2.0- Listen, this episode would have made more sense in s1 or at the very latest early s2. Adrien gave a whole ass speech on how great Marinette is, then he turns around and is like idk if she likes me… Clean it up. 2/10

81.  Miracle Queen- I could talk at length about how much I hate the ending of this episode and what they did with Chloe and Master Fu, but we’re just going to remain calm and give it a solid 1.5/10

82.  Frozer- This episode made no goddamn sense. I call bullshit on so many things. Just ugh. 1/10

83.  Chameleon- Surprisingly, even though this episode sparked many, many spite fics out of me, it’s not my least favorite because at least Ladybug semi-redeemed this episode. Still really dumb and ooc tho. 1/10

84.  Feast- Okay, okay, okay, here we are. Bottom of the barrel. Cat’s most hated episode, and you wanna know why? You want to know why this episode fills me with the rage? Because we spent two fucking seasons building up all this mystery and lore and intrigue surrounding Fu’s big mistake, and they dropped the fucking ball! They did my mans so dirty! They could have really deepened his character, deepened the Order, deepened anything other than whatever fucking affair Gabriel and Nathalie have going on, but NO. They made it some stupid, bland-ass thing that got resolved magically in the end, then just ignored it for the rest of the season. I will never not be salty about how they did my boy Fu in this show. I’m happy he found his peace, but fuck if I’m not livid about how they did it. Whatever. Chat being done with Ladybug’s shit when they’re about to get eaten was funny I guess. .5/10

[himbodjarin]

LUNAR

18+  Content: Eventual descriptions of gore and smut. Third person POV. Chapter Word Count: 2203 Pairing: Din Djarin/F!Reader  - no usage of “y/n”

The Mandalorian is a driven warrior — traversing the galaxy in search of the ancient Jedi — but everyone has their weaknesses, and he’s no different. The Bounty Hunter possessed three in fact. One he’s discovered—The Child. The remaining two, though, he wasn’t aware of their existence. At least, not until he meets a valorous Sharpshooter underneath a moonless night sky; then he’s plummeting down a dark mission of self-discovery, questioning his morals and his Creed while the moon taunts him, the phases of the satellite corresponding to his personal revelations. However, the Girl has a dark past that may come to inflict hardships on the Mandalorian and the Child; it's up to the Bounty Hunter to decide her fate.

Read on AO3 / Series Masterlist

CHAPTER ONE: ARVALA-7

The Razor Crest is the closest thing to The Mandalorian’s home, there wasn’t a situation the spacecraft hadn’t emerged triumphant albeit attaining minimal scathes of blaster fire. She’s an old vessel commissioned sometime before the Galactic Empire’s formation, the Mandalorian is grateful he’s privileged to possess such a durable warship, it compliments his style perfectly.

Although, as the craft whines at Mando’s persistent thumbing of controls, he was beginning to resent the body of duralloy surrounding him. The walls shake violently against the atmospheric changes and the left engine slows to a stop, crashing against a stray object within the propellers. He fights against the increasing velocity, eager on not crashing into the all-too-familiar dusty planet nearing closer.

He hopes Kuiil is accepting of a visitor.

Mando surveys the gunship before him, a piece of exterior panelling collapses to the ground underneath the resting Crest and the whirs of a slowing engine clash against the whistling wind, and he sighs. It’s not an easy fix, not this time. The Guild is increasing the numbers against him and with it, the blaster fire directed towards him has improved; pilots are becoming gallant, stupid, credit-hungry.

At least he’s a good pilot, a skill he feels pride for possessing.

Even so, the Crest is a bulky hull and his skills can’t avoid the few unfortunate circumstances that come with it. The spacecraft is in bad shape, worst it’s ever been in and he fears even the Ugnaught cannot assist with this, but he can’t waste time - can’t stay in one location for too long. If his short time on Sorgan taught him anything, it’s to not allow himself attachments nor liabilities.

Arvala-7 hasn’t changed — hasn’t improved — since he was last here, collecting the asset for a hefty reward that now encases his body. The asset — The Child, remained in the sleeping berth, undeterred by the convulsions. Mando contemplates not to wake him and visit Kuiil for assistance, but he’s reminded of Peli Motto’s stern words— You can’t just leave a child all alone like that!

Regardless of the fact the planet is a deserted wasteland, he knows she’s right.

Besides, if the Jawa’s were to ransack the Crest again, they might use the Child as a bargaining chip.

Substrate crunches underneath Mando’s weighted boots as he nears the boarding ramp to collect the Child. The tips of his toes reach the incline but he stops, pauses, thinks. There’s a shift in the wind before it settles flatly, dissipating as though it never existed. It’s silent, dead, until it wasn’t. There’s a sharp hiss echoing through the valleys, one he’s heard too many times and he promptly turns to catch a streak of burning red an inch away from his visor and nestling a hole into the battered ship.

Mando scans the bouldered landscape and concurrently keys at his vambrace, activating his thermal vision to assist in his hunt for the perpetrator; thankful for the night sky enhancing the opportunity. He stops short, visor targeting a glimmer of warm orange heat on the rocky peaks. Mando’s hand instinctively hovers over his holstered blaster, but they’re too far, too high for him to manage a decent shot. With the rifle locked in the Crest, he’s practically defenceless albeit for the flash charges and flamethrower in his vambrace.

Resorting to flash charges in this circumstance is futile. There aren’t sufficient charges to obstruct their vision long enough for him to reach their positioning. Of course, the flamethrower is even worse; he’d consider himself lucky if it extended a mere two metres ahead of him. He’s easy pickings — too vulnerable, and it intimidates him.  

He’s never felt so insignificant...so...powerless.

Leather toggles at his vambrace and the visor magnifies its vision before his eyes. Mando observes the figure, analyses it, and follows the direction of the barrel’s aim. It’s actively locked onto him, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t show submission before them.

It’s assertive and so stupid.

It’s, in all probability, a Guild member here to lay claim to two rewards—Mando, for his betrayals, and the Child, for high compensations. Although the reward for the Child alone outweighs the Mandalorian’s. They could end him right here and now, steal the Child and be back on Nevarro within a few days; they should for it they don’t, he will put up a fight.

The sharpshooter readjusts their positioning, the barrel of the rifle tilting down an inch and another blast of crimson slashes through the air, wisps of wind trailing behind the high-velocity beam. It kicks up dirt upon its impact between his boots, dust and pebbles flicking into his lower beskar.

They’re not aiming for him at all, Mando realises. It’s possible that they’re a poor marksman, but was it plausible? Their posture is riddled with years of experience and discovered confidence; they’re no amateur. Mando is sure of it.

Which means they’re attempting to threaten him, frighten him enough for him to evacuate the lands. He doesn’t submit that easily. Perhaps they were hiding something — there’s no point in empty threats among land that possesses no treasures — and maybe it was valuable, or, Mando hums in thought, maybe something sinister he shouldn’t involve himself in.

Arvala-7 isn’t a planet of overly aggressive inhabitants, although the last he was here he did wipe out an entire Nikto encampment; there had to be others of their kind parading the planet in search of him.

Even with the assistance of his magnified vision, the figure was blurred and unreadable. Mando couldn’t even see a speck of skin underneath all the body armour and their face was obstructed by hard tan rock formations.

Mando thinks of the tan-pink face of the Ugnaught, the white whiskers lining his jowls, the weathered brown goggle cap, and how he failed to mention an overly territorial sharpshooter inhabiting the lands.

Blast! Kriffing Ugnaught!

Isn’t that something a tourist should be made aware of upon entering unknown terrain?

Mando gazes through his visor and observes the prone figure. If this was any other ordinary blaster fight, he’d have won by now; would’ve simply pulled for his Amban phase-pulse rifle and disintegrated the threat until there was nothing left but their dust kicking in the wind. He would have already been heading to Kuiil’s moisture farm and complained about his lack of notice of the ambush.

It wasn’t any normal fight, though. Mando can sense something from them and he doesn’t like it; not what he senses but why he senses it.

He’s a practical man.

He works with his hands and his mind, and doesn't tap into intuitions unless necessary. Even when he feels a job is too hard, too promising, he embraces it. Green skin and long bat-wing ears flicker in his peripherals—The Child. He’s awoken. At an unfortunate time, no less. He often did that.

Mando rushes to the Child and swoops him in his arms, ignoring the confused coos muffling into his beskar and returning to the Crest before the incoming fire. It doesn’t come, not even after he peers his helm from the duralloy walls. He inspects the valley formations for a tinge of orange heat, a speck of lens flare, but it’s gone.

It’s a good thing —he has to remind himself — but his suspicions are wedging into the deep crevices of his mind and tingling against his brain, provoking sparks of apprehension. It’s only a matter of time before they inevitably return and who’s to say they won’t return with reinforcements, optimistic of removing him from their lands.

The Child is restless in his arms, whiny piercing noises emitting from his little mouth. “Okay, okay,” Mando grumbles, content of the long-gone presence, and sets the Child down. “Don’t go outside.”

He thumbs his vambrace and the weapons unit doors commence their opening with creaky hinges, yet another thing Mando will have to secure at a later date. The Amban rifle feels comforting in his hand, the shiny barrel glimmering in the Crest’s light. It’s secured to his back and the thick strap fastens across his breastplate vertically, reassuringly.

Leathered digits grab at three canisters of rifle ammunition and situate them in their placements surrounding his boot, refilling the empty’s he’d used prior to the pathetic spacecraft malfunctioning.

Mando gives himself a once-over, guaranteeing he contained all the essentials on his possession if the sharpshooter were to return. When he’s pleased with the maintenance of his blasters and positioning of ammunition canisters, he retreats the Crest and closes the hatch. “I told you not to go outside.”

The Child coos blithely and wanders to his guardian with an extended three-tipped claw.

Mando sighs and picks up the little alien child. The beskar helmet twists towards the mountain-top and his eyes narrow underneath the visor, his lips pressed tightly against his teeth in thought.

“Come on, let’s go see Kuiil. Might even have some pestering frogs you can take off his hands.”

And maybe he can answer some urgent questions, The Mandalorian thinks.

The Ugnaught proves to be useful yet again, going so far as to tend to the Child’s hunger needs—and offering unwanted advice in the meantime. The Mandalorian and Kuiil stand ahead of the Blurrg enclosure, his former mount jeering the beskar-clad bounty hunter. “She’s not fond of you.”

“Feelings mutual.” Mando jabs and sighs, realising his vehemence towards a non-sentient beast. The Child is beside him, shoving a cobalt-blue frog through his tight-lipped mouth. Frantic legs kick at the Child’s chin but it only encourages his appetite, green claws pushing the amphibians limbs into his enclosed mouth. Mando cringes beneath the helmet.

“I recognise you’re not here for tea.” Kuiil draws the Mandalorian’s attention back. “Why are you here?”

“The Crest has taken significant damage. I fear I cannot fix it.”

“Get a new spacecraft, a reliable one.”

Mando sighs, “I don’t need a new one.”

“I have spoken.”

The Ugnaught extends an overflowing hand of mushy grub for the blurrgs, the beasts absorb the entirety of his fist in its mouth but pulls away leaving a wet shine of slobber on Kuiil’s hand. The Mandalorian is grateful for the thin wire restraining them to their confines. Although, they were definitely capable of overpowering the loose cables with their brute strength; he’s pleased he will be needing the reptilian assistance no longer.

It’s easier to depend on mechanics, they’re manipulatable and live beasts were not.

“There’s a marksman in those valleys,” Mando explains.

“I am aware.”

So he did know—and didn’t warn him. “Do you know them?”

“They are one of your kind.”

This piques his interest, curiosity apparent in his fixed posture; head tilted and shoulders stiffly raised. “Mandalorian?”

“No. Independent, private.”

Mando sighs and turns away from the Ugnaught, a pair of hands landing on his hips in frustration. Helmet adjusts upwards, reaching high in the night sky, where he browses the vastness of black and speckled white. Space seems so far away without his Crest, so unreachable. Underneath the visor, his eyes collect the clusters of stars. The Mandalorian is a man of many skill sets and abilities; constellation knowledge was not one of them, yet he couldn’t tear his gaze away. He resolves to count the particles, managing to reach sixty-eight before the Child’s coos distract him.

He's resilient, persistent. Optimistic to obtain an answer to the number of stars soaring above him. Eighty-three, eighty-four— The sharpshooter crosses his mind and he scowls. There’s that sensation again, that uneasiness. Intuition, suspicion. Eighty…. Eighty-six?

The thoughts are evaded, not wanting to think about the potential danger he’s putting himself, the Child, and even Kuiil in by remaining on the desert planet—not that he had anywhere to go, but he feels as though the sharpshooter doesn’t care. They just want him gone, and it only makes the Mandalorian that much inquisitive.

Tan lower eyelids drag downwards as though they were crafted with gravity itself. He’s tired, exhausted, but he doesn’t succumb to his body’s pleads of leisure. It can wait until the Crest is soaring through space; then, and only then, with the Child dozing in his hammock he can relax, allow his muscles to recuperate, allow himself a moment's weakness.

Mando sucks in a breath through his helmet’s filter. Dry, warm, and grainy like the desert, but a refreshing change from the recycled oxygen inside the Razor Crest’s vessel.

Arvala-7’s moon is nowhere to be seen, the sky illuminated only by the dotted whites flaked through the sheet of black. It gives the sky an ominous appearance, threatening almost. Mando finds himself disorientated among the stars, a thick lump in his throat. It looked so…

Lifeless.

The Mandalorian forcibly retracts his attention from the sky, but his premonition remains intact and he dabbles with it. Fiddling the edges of a conscious thought and visualising it as a bounty puck, he pictures a bright hologram emerging from it’s centre, displaying a circulating outline of orange waves. It’s a bad idea, a stupid idea, but one he can’t reject, “Their camp. Where is their camp located?”

Kuiil shakes his head, “They’re not hostile, no need to provoke them.”

“I won’t shoot first.”

[sealer-of-wenkamui]

Ciaran Character Analysis

I’ve been thinking a lot about Ciaran over the last few months, so I wanted to try and collect my thoughts and do a proper character analysis of sorts. Of course, things are highly open to interpretation in Dark Souls, so this is just how I read her character and the reasons why.

               First of all, I actually don’t think she was together with Artorias for a number of reasons. She almost certainly had feelings for him, but I think she tried to hide them, and perhaps didn’t fully understand them. For one, she simply speaks of him as a “dear friend”, and while this could also be taken as her keeping their relationship secret, there is no description or unused dialogue from Artorias’ side hinting at it either.  I also wonder if her unused dialogue where she calls him a “dear companion” was changed because it sounds too openly affectionate.  In Gough’s unused dialogue he states that she had “strong feelings” for him, which is worded like they were one sided instead of in a relationship. And while he might have realized it, Gough is also the most perceptive of the Knights, even realizing that the fire will one day fade, while Artorias strikes me as being much more oblivious. Finally, her dying words come across like the confession of a dying woman, one who was never able to say her feelings in life, so she at least will say them now that she has nothing to lose. Interestingly enough, they’re also unsubtitled- words meant not for you, but for Artorias and for herself.

               One of the biggest reasons why I think she would hide her feelings is her position. She is one of four Knights of Gwyn, entrusted with a special soul, and despite her appearance, she is considered something more than human, and seems to have disdain for humans (as seen by her dialogue when you attack her, or even just the way she says “human” in her unused dialogue).

I don’t think it’s the case that she’s human while the others are not just because she’s small, since size seems to be easily variable based on the state of the soul, for example Ornstein grows in size upon absorbing the soul of Smough, or Gael, much larger than your average person after consuming the dark souls of the pygmies. Perhaps even Artorias was a normal size to begin with.

Ultimately the gods and these demigod-like existences with their special souls aren’t all that different from humans, but the important thing is that they are considered as such, so she would be too. Humanity is constantly linked with the dark throughout the series.  And even someone as kindhearted as Artorias, who believes in the goodness of humanity, thinks of the dark as something evil, something to be feared (In fact he words it as believing them to be more than just dark in his unused dialogue). One of the four Knights of the man who sacrificed himself to stave off the Age of Dark would want nothing to do with the dark. Yet feelings, and especially feelings of love, are a very human thing (just look at the pursuers/affinity description for example). That alone seems like the strongest reason to hide any feelings she might have for Artorias, to refuse to acknowledge that human side of her, to repress them and pretend they don’t exist.

Even more so than the other knights she comes across as having something to prove, as someone that has worked so hard to reach the distinguished status she has and doesn’t want anything to take that from her. The lightning arrow description mentions that female knights were rare to begin with, and she was able to work her way up to being one of Gwyn’s most trusted. The porcelain mask description mentions how determined she was to earn it as a decoration of honor (I imagine she first became an especially distinguished Lord’s Blade before becoming one of the four), and the English description actually leaves out another interesting fact- that it’s decorated with her own hair. The wording makes it sound like she cut her own hair to decorate that mask. This makes it seem like she wanted to stand out and make a name for herself- giving herself a distinct look that would come to be feared by all enemies of Lord Gwyn.

On the level of character design, her mask is what she’s most known for, the hornet ring description in DS3 even drawing attention to it. This comes across as a very deliberate choice reflecting her character- as she is a woman whose mask is more than just physical, someone who is perpetually hiding her “human” side. Her mask gives her an otherworldly look, like something beyond humans and reflects her “divine” self. Her purpose in life is to strike down any and all enemies of her Lord, and she has worked so hard towards that alone, almost as if she’s trying to become the mask she wears.  Even though I think she might be able to relax a little around the other knights and especially Artorias, she comes across as a very serious woman that doesn’t truly know much about herself outside of her job. Interestingly, her face under the mask is just the default female face in-game, as if she truly isn’t meant to be seen without it!

No matter how much she tries to repress her feelings though, a mask is still just a mask, and they don’t disappear just because she wants them to. She has strong feelings for Artorias, a darkness she desperately wants to hide. Despite being a Knight of Gwyn, I tend to associate her with the darkness as a result, and even her name may be a reflection of that as well. Ciaran is common Irish boy’s name (Ciara is a girl’s name but she specifically has the masculine form of the name, a decision I also think was intentional and may tie into her being the only woman of the four and how rare female knights were) and looking around, she doesn’t seem to be named after any famous Ciaran as far as I know. So, what is the meaning of the name? Little dark one. A name associated with darkness seems especially significant in this series, and her struggle with her own humanity is central to her character, something that even her name itself betrays.

Since female knights are apparently rare, and she has an especially high-ranking position, I think she would also want to hide her feelings out of fear of being seen as just a girl in love. I also think its interesting how the hornet ring description also draws attention to the fact that she’s the only woman of the four, and how her name is almost exclusively used for boys, and I wonder if she went by the title of “sir” as well. At the same time, her appearance is the distinctly feminine look shared by all the Lord’s Blades, even using her own hair as well, so it’s not something she’s hiding either.  

In addition to being the lone woman of the four, I also got the impression that she’s the youngest and last to join the Knights, which may further add to the feeling of needing to prove herself.

The main reason why actually comes from her speech pattern, when you compare it to the rest of the characters seen in that time period, it stands out. While Elizabeth, Dusk, Gough, and even Artorias all speak in an old-fashioned manner, she noticeably does not, except for “May the Lord guide thee” which sounds like a set phrase anyone serving Gwyn might say. If it was tied to status, then she would speak that way as well, she’s hardly trying to hide it (and besides we see other characters opposed to the gods that speak in the same way, like the hollow outside the Ringed City or Yuria). Maybe she did come from a more humble upbringing and that could be why, but with how varied the characters that do speak like that are I don’t think that’s it (and even some clearly noble characters don’t, like Lothric or Oceiros). So I wonder if its simply because she was born later once speech styles had changed.

Her position also makes sense if so as well, she’s an assassin, so even if she wasn’t around until after the Age of Fire had begun and Gwyn had gained status, that’s exactly when you would need a skilled assassin to eliminate your enemies. In other words, she’s not a dragonslayer, so it still makes sense if she is younger.

Going back to her feelings, the way I see it is that Artorias being consumed by the Abyss and killed is what finally forced her to face them- she’s not able to recognize just how strong they are until the man himself is gone. Perhaps she planned to kill him herself as she was in the area, but realized she couldn’t, or rather that she would almost surely hesitate and get herself killed. In a way, its almost a relief the chosen undead came along and killed him instead, she understood it was something that needed to be done, and though she doesn’t seem to like humans very much, she doesn’t hold anything against you.  You find her immediately after killing Artorias, so she almost certainly would have been the one to find his corpse and make that small memorial, as if she wanted to make sure it would be her and no one else to find him. Despite being the kind of person who would always be watching her back, you find her kneeling in prayer, not so much as turning to look at you when you approach, and you can even easily attack her from behind in such a state. As if simply being there in prayer was the most important thing in that moment- and she surely has a lot of thoughts going through her head and a lot of feelings hitting her all at once. At this point, she can’t lie to herself, and even if she couldn’t confess while he was alive, if you take her life, she’ll at least do it before she dies.

When you speak to her, she seems to have no interest in you outside of obtaining Artorias’ soul, with only his will stopping her from taking it from you. She claims she wants to pay proper respect to him with it, but at the moment, his actual grave hasn’t been made yet, so I imagine she might take it into herself for a while until that point.

As to her eventual fate, I do think its likely she’s the corpse found behind his grave that has the hornet ring. At first I wondered why someone of her status wouldn’t have a proper burial, but in time, not many people are going to that grave, and those that do don’t return, so it may simply be she died after it was forgotten, and her corpse was never found.

The fact that she will give you her tracers if you give her his soul implies she gives up being a Knight of Gwyn (they’ve half fallen apart at that point anyway), but she doesn’t strike me as the type to kill herself right then and there, I think it would be a slow wasting away and curling up to die behind the grave of the man she loved. She (nor Gough) drop the special souls that they should have as part of the four… and while it may simply be to not further encourage people to kill them, if that soul is what gives them a long life (Ornstein is somehow still around after all) she may have purposely given it up so that she may eventually die… or maybe its after she receives his soul and she keeps both hers and his at his grave.

Finally, her ring ends up in the untended graves in DS3, and while there are a number of reasons you can come up with for how it ended up there, I feel like the most important part is the symbolic meaning behind it- for it is found by a grave with a Farron greatsword, one of the types modeled after that of Artorias’. It feels as if even in death, her feelings linked the two of them together.

While not nearly as direct, even DS2 has a parallel to Ciaran in the form of Alsanna. Much like Ciaran, you find her kneeling in prayer mourning her lost love, who also happens to be a left-handed swordsman who sacrificed himself and got corrupted and even has (several) animal companions. (DS2 also is where its mentioned that Artorias was left-handed, and its consistently used to mark characters paralleling him, even in Bloodborne with Ludwig.) Her soul even gives you a pair of curved swords. Parallels can also be drawn between the other three knights and people closely associated with the fragments of Manus, but only Ciaran parallels the child of dark herself, further deepening her association with the dark.

More directly, DS3 has the Dancer and Vordt, two knights who seem to honor Ciaran and Artorias’ legacy, and were always seen together- in fact you can see phantoms of what seems to be them before they were transformed into beasts walking the streets of Irithyll together (Vordt too, is left-handed). Despite how she tried to hide her feelings, I think it may have been her ring that betrayed them, so they ended up being remembered together. The Pontiff Knights in general also have a great deal of similarity to the Lord’s Blades, somewhat in armor design but mostly in their job, being described as Sulyvahn’s “punitive blades”. The Dancer herself most notably has two curved blades that look remarkably similar to Ciaran’s tracers in shape, as well as being gold and silver, even wielding the gold one in her left hand like she did.

There are probably more little details I could add, but this is already long, and I’ve covered the major points that I’ve thought a lot about. I tried to explain my reasoning as best as possible too, but there’s plenty of stuff that’s unknown and that’s half the fun. Feel free to comment, I love Ciaran and I love to think about her and discuss her!

[yandearest]

May The Odds Be Ever in Your Favor (Hoseok x Reader Hunger Games AU) Chapter 2: Training Day

Summary - Living in District 4 you never thought you would have to worry about being selected for the Hunger Games. With a training centre right near the dock of the houseboat you lived and fished from, your district was known for volunteers who trained their whole lives for a shot at glory and riches. But at age 18, your name is called and no girls volunteer to take your place. Your devastation is answered when Kim Namjoon volunteers for the males shortly after. Tall, muscular, highly intelligent and charming, the years of diligent preparation have bestowed Namjoon with the expectation of being the next District 4 champion after Finnick Odair last won 3 years ago.

Fishing for a living has granted you skills with a knife but, as your mentor Finnick is quick to describe, your beautiful face may well be your best asset.

Upon arrival in the Capitol you are quickly faced with the reality that Namjoon may not even be the biggest danger inside the Arena. Especially when you capture the obsessive attention of District 2′s own volunteer, and killing machine, Jung Hoseok. Hope soon fades from ‘survival’ to ‘the mercy of a painless death’ but Hoseok certainly has other plans.

Pairing - Hoseok x (fem)Reader

Genre - thriller, angst, yandere

Word Count 7.2K

Warnings - [in later chapters] major character death, graphic depictions of violence, swearing, obsession, dubcon-smut (smut will be marked so reading is optional), gore, unrealistically beautiful oc because I’m a sucker for that shitty trope and want to live vicariously through my writing (sue me)

The following is a dark fic featuring a yandere character, violence, obsession, and coercion. By no means does writing about this in a fictional setting condone any of those behaviours, much like Stephen King writing horror doesn’t mean he approves of psychotic killers in reality. Please avoid reading if any of these warnings makes you uncomfortable.

Previous Chapter: 1

Cross posted on A03 so people can subscribe for updates/notifications

Training began the following morning at 10am, although when you woke for breakfast at 8 Namjoon was nowhere to be found in your living quarters. Finnick informed you that Namjoon had left to begin early as you elected for a bowl of cereal instead of the array of foods presented on the dining table. To anyone else the spread of pancakes, syrup, pastries, bagels, bacon, eggs, sausages and other delicacies you weren’t even familiar with would have appeared mouth watering. But in your state it all just looked like cardboard. You didn’t trust yourself to be able to keep anything down but knew you had to at least eat something so you wouldn’t pass out later.

You tried to make the most of the one on one time with Finnick, listening as he talked about the range of stations that would be inside the gym. For the most part he seemed to suggest being a shadow to the rest of the careers, “play along and act dumb so they think you trust them and are too stupid to make plans for yourself”. Your best bet of survival relied entirely on them underestimating you and you being able to correctly time when to stab them in the back (literally) before they disposed of you.

Once you finished barely eating, you dressed in the capitol provided athletic wear; a fitted black T shirt with decorative panels of silver and gold along the sides and the number 4 emblazoned on your sleeves, along with a pair of just-below-knee-length black leggings that also featured the same silver and gold design as a strip on the sides. After tightly lacing up your sneakers, and tying your hair into a high ponytail, you took the elevator from the floor of your living quarter down to the basement where the gym was located.

You had no idea what you were expecting, perhaps something similar to the warehouse gym back in 4, but the spacious room that you arrived in was definitely not it. To start with, despite being under ground beneath an apartment complex, it looked like it could easily fit at least five warehouses inside the space. There were so many stations set up you wondered how it would be humanly possible to even attempt all of them within your three-day time limit. There were more weapons here than you had ever seen in your entire life combined; what appeared to be a parkour racing course, a rope climb, fire making equipment, a knotting station, something that looked like a paint set up, a tablet with symbols (what use that was supposed to bring you had no idea) and many other things you weren’t sure of. A large digital clock was mounted in the middle of the wall at the back, near a rock climbing wall, displaying the time as 9:45AM. You tried to swallow down your nerves as you scanned across the room looking for Namjoon. You found him easily at the weight section, bench pressing a large barbell you didn’t care enough to read the weight on. It seemed like a pretty basic scare tactic of trying to intimidate the other districts with his strength, but it didn’t have any impact on you because you were already aware.

“What’s muscles over there trying to prove?” a sudden voice at your side caused you to start, whipping your head to see Krystal next to you. She didn’t quite smile but there was an amused look to her eyes and a little quirk to the corner of her mouth.

“Holy shit please don’t sneak up on me like that in the arena, I will literally die of a heart attack” you exhaled with an awkward laugh at the end.

“Wouldn’t be the most painful way to die in there,” Krystal retorted with a shrug. She looked different compared to last night, but you supposed you could say the same for everyone if you compared them in an elaborate costumer to their gym wear. Her sleek black hair had been braided into two French plaits down the back of her head and secured into twin buns on the bottom.

“Touché,” you agreed but quickly moved to shift the topic away from you dying. “To answer your question Namjoon’s probably trying to intimidate some kids into thinking he’s going to bench press them to death.”

Krystal gave an amused hum before gesturing towards her fellow district mate Yoongi who was lazily sitting against the wall nearby. Training hadn’t even started yet and he looked like he’d much rather be asleep. It was hard to think of him as the confidently spoken cape wearing tribute from yesterday when he was now slumped against a wall. If anything he looked quite adorable.

“We just got here, have you seen 2?”

“No, I just got here myself, Namjoon came early to get extra training in”

You looked around the warehouse again trying to spot a familiar head of copper hair or Athena’s cropped blonde pixie cut but couldn’t see either of them for now.

“If he wants to wear himself out before we even get into the arena that’s his business, but if he pulls a muscle or drops a barbell on his head, I’m not carrying him,” Krystal muttered as Namjoon grunted lifting his weights up a final time before slamming them back on the rack.

“Agreed.” You murmured whilst Namjoon finally spotted you were here and nodded towards you and District 1 in recognition, before walking over. Krystal and yourself both gave half hearted waves in reply, Yoongi looked like he had actually fallen asleep and didn’t do anything.

“Hey,” Namjoon greeted wiping his forehead on his shirt sleeve and taking a drink from his water bottle. As much as you had made light of his workout before the fact he was barely out of breath after lifting more than twice your body weight was pretty intimidating. “Have you seen 2 yet?” You were about to tell him what you had just told Krystal when a raspy voice spoke from behind you

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

Turning around you saw Hoseok and Athena walking out from where the elevators were nearby. Athena looked almost unrecognizable in comparison to her warrior outfit and smoky make up from the night before. Her short hair was pushed back with a headband and her face much rounder. She was definitely shorter without her heeled shoes and her body type much curvier than what her costume showed. Whilst Athena, Yoongi and Krystal all looked softer without their costumes and make up Hoseok somehow still managed to radiate the same aura from the tribute parade. His form fitting T-shirt and pants (in the same design as everyone else’s) accentuate his lithe build. The tights he wore showcase the definition of his calves and thighs, along with how long his legs were. The definition of his abs could be seen through the black shirt and his biceps were on display. It appeared he didn’t need any bronzing powder or contouring make-up to sharpen his facial features; his high nose and cheekbones were still just as prominent and his jawline just as sharp. He ran a hand through his hair, which was disheveled from not being styled, but somehow still managed to look good anyway.

When you make the mistake of looking into his eyes you can see that there was definitely no make up involved in the intensity of his stare from yesterday, it’s still just as unnerving this morning. The corner of his lip pulls up into a smirk as he sees you assessing his appearance and he has no shame running his eyes over your body.

“Nice of you to show up,” Namjoon grunted, clearly not impressed with the way Hoseok was staring at you again.

“Relax we’ve still got five minutes until we’re officially mean to start” Athena said as she stops beside Namjoon. She strikes up a conversation to try and distract him like Hoseok had told her to do. Why exactly she was following his instructions she didn’t really know, but she didn’t particularly care to upset him at this point so she simply played along. Namjoon was easy enough to engage, all she did was ask him what he had been doing to work up a sweat and he immediately leapt into a description of the circuit he had been training.

Hoseok moved to take the spot between Athena and yourself.

“Morning love,” he whispered under his breath, touching your elbow gently and leaning down slightly in a way that’s only intended for you to hear. You shudder at the feeling of his warm breath ghosting against the shell of your ear and curse your body for it’s unconscious reaction.

He pulls his hand away just as quickly, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention, but wishes he could maintain some form of physical contact. ‘There’ll be plenty of time for that in the arena,’ Hoseok assures himself watching as your cheeks flush that same rose color they did last night. He can’t explain why, but something so simple as your blush makes him feel ecstatic. Oh the things he would do to you to see what else makes you flush that pretty color for him again.

“Hey,” you reply, trying not to break the eye contact out of fear it could be taken as a sign of weakness. He’s tall so you need to look up, but you’re not that short either so it’s not a high angle. You’d estimate the top of your head reaching around his nose if you had to guess.

“I’ve been dying to ask this since seeing you yesterday, but what is an angel like you doing at these games?” his voice is still low, but not as quiet as before, as Namjoon continues to elaborate on his morning work out whilst Athena pretends to care.

“Uh same reason nearly everyone else here is, my name got pulled out the bowl,” you tried to casually respond with a shrug but knew the devastation would have been showing in your eyes. There were some things you just weren’t capable of hiding, and your fear at your situation and imminent death was one of those things. “And you?”

Hoseok frowns and you wonder if you somehow said something wrong but then he softly shakes his head.

“Volunteer,” he states and you swallow with a nod, unconsciously shifting backwards a little. His very appearance is lethal so it really shouldn’t be a surprise at all that he’s signed himself up to slaughter people like you, just the same way Namjoon had.

“Right, I mean you’re a career,” you shrug again looking across at Krystal, Athena, and Yoongi, wondering if they were volunteers too.

“Hey,” his hand was back on your elbow again, he didn’t give a shit if the others saw him. The feelings he was already experiencing towards you had just been intensified immeasurably by the fact you were innocent in these games. He didn’t know how to possibly describe it; all he knew was that from all the words that existed, in all of the languages in the history of mankind, there would never be a way to explain it.

He saw the tremble in your body whenever he looked at you, the shudder earlier when his breath met your ear, surely you had to feel something towards him too. There was no possible way that these emotions he was experiencing could be contained in just one body, you had to be sharing this experience. Was this a ‘soulmate’ that he had only read of before in passing regarding outdated literature? He had never been the kind to believe in fate before, as far as he had trained his whole life to believe, his only destiny was to win the games and bring honor to his family. But as you stood before him, for only the second time in his life, he just knew that you had been preordained for him.

At his age of eighteen he had experienced love in some capacity before, his parents, his sister, a few close friends and a couple of girlfriends here and there but none of those emotional connections compared to you. Surely you would feel the same way about him too, but of course as the poor reaped tribute that you were, you were too afraid to be able to focus on him right now. He was furious you were even here, how dare none of the other female trainees from 4 volunteer to save your precious existence. How cruel the forces of the universe were, for gifting him with an angel only for her to be so close yet still so out of reach. These intense emotions were far too much for one person to ever experience alone, so somehow he must be possessing part of your emotions for him, because you weren’t capable of focusing on anything more than survival right now. His poor defenseless angel, how much you needed him right now.

That must be it. A trial from beyond these games where he would have to earn not just this victory but a way to make you experience your love. There had to be a reason why you were here, it’s because it was for him to prove himself worthy of you. Oh how he wishes you could have met outside, after his victory tour when he went to 4 and he could just pick you from the crowd and make you his. But that would’ve been too simple. Yes, a love like this only came once in a lifetime, he was certain, and he would need to move heaven and earth to somehow save himself and you. But there had to be a reason that the universe had put you together right at this very moment. There had to be a way for him to save you both, and he knew he would kill anyone and everyone who got in his way.

“I promised you last night, I won’t hurt you, and I meant it,” he said, squeezing your elbow – not tight enough to hurt – as if trying to implore you to believe him. His hand felt warm and his hold was firm, shooting a tingling sensation down your spine. You tried to suppress the physical affect his touch was having on you, knowing nothing good could possibly come out of any attraction. You hated just how strongly your body was reacting to him, wondering why the hell he was trying to flirt before he would inevitably try to kill you, and why your body was liking it. But even though you were a tribute, ultimately you were still only human.

“Hoseok, you literally volunteered to kill me, it’s fine,” you began as a small voice internally added ‘well it’s not fine really but that’s besides the point’. A look you couldn’t read flashed in Hoseok’s eyes and he opened his mouth to say something, but you continued on before he could speak.

“I’ve seen enough of these games to know how the career pack works. I’ll help you guys and when it comes down to the end I’ll just try as hard as I can. There’s only one winner and look at you,” your eyes were on his torso because you couldn’t bring yourself to maintain the eye contact as you spoke. The outline of his pectorals and abs that were visible through the fabric of his shirt, compared to your barely toned figure in comparison, did all the speaking in that regard anyway. Looking down at his grip on your elbow, you could see how the fingers on his large hand nearly wrapped all the way around your arm. His own biceps would easily be twice the size of yours.

“Look at Namjoon,” you subtly gestured to your much larger district-mate, “and then look at me.” You weren’t exactly unfit, all the years of physical labor from working on your family’s boat had helped give you some muscle definition, but it was nothing compared to a trained killer.

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not lyi-”

Hoseok’s objection was cut off by an announcement coming from the other side of the room. It was now 10 am and everyone had to attend a briefing in regards to how training worked. Hoseok scowled at the interruption before quickly dropping your arm to avoid suspicion from the others.

“This isn’t over,” he whispered, as you followed with the others to where a dark skinned woman stood in the center of the room. She introduced herself as Atala and ran through the basics of how the next three days would work. Her commentary about dehydration and infection being as much of a danger in the arena as the weapons was particularly interesting to, you wondered if Namjoon had spent as much time on his survival skills as he did on his fighting in the old warehouse back at 4. You doubted it. You also noticed a window on the wall that your back had been facing when you entered the room, where a room of mostly men in suits with eccentric beards and wild colored hair styles were sitting on lounges. Atala introduced them as the game makers who were here to observe, sending a shiver of disgust throughout your body.

Before being allowed to focus on the stations of your choice there was a tribute wide assessment on four of the obstacles: Monkey bars, a fire making station, a memory game (which explained what that strange tablet thing was) and a one on one physical combat match with a Capital trainer. The monkey bars were first and tributes were to perform in the order of their district numbers. You were mildly surprised by how Yoongi went from appearing lethargic to swinging across the bars with ease, but as a career it wasn’t entirely unexpected. Krystal and Athena both had no trouble and Hoseok flew across the rungs twice as fast as the others. You swallowed a nervous lump in your throat when your turn came, feeling the pressure of being in a career district and having all eyes focused on you. Upper body strength had never been your strong point, and you knew the furthest you would probably be able to get was around the half way mark. The girl from 3 had struggled and fallen off nearly immediately but you still didn’t want to fail, especially not with Namjoon breathing down your neck behind you. Back at home you had needed to climb around the boat before in order to make repairs, which suddenly gave you an idea.

Jumping up to reach the bar, you used the momentum to swing your legs through and up onto the next bar in front. Hooking your ankles under you pulled your legs through the gap until you were hanging by your knees. With your weight now more evenly distributed you were able to pull yourself up and awkwardly climb over so you were then on top of the bars. From there you tried not to look down at the long fall onto the thin mat below and crawled your way to the other end before lowering yourself back down when you reached the other side.

“Unconventional, but effective” the person who was responsible for measuring the times and taking notes muttered as they scribbled down something on their clipboard.

“Not bad, spaghetti arms” Athena nodded her approval, her own arm muscles were probably close to the same size as Yoongi’s.

“Gotta know your own strengths and weaknesses,” you smiled back with a shrug. Your time was much slower than the others – Namjoon racing across the other side in a speed to rival Hoseok, right after you were done – but it was still better than not even being able to complete the course at all.

The other assessments were pretty much non eventful with predictable results. You performed decently in comparison to other reaped tributes but were definitely lacking compared to the rest of the careers. You could also detect a bit of rivalry beginning to brew between Namjoon and Hoseok as they tried to one up the other. Hoseok was the faster of the two to light a fire but Namjoon was quicker in being able to solve the memory puzzle. Both of them landed ‘lethal blow’ scores against the capital trainer in their sparring match (you had managed to land a simulated hit of the heel of your hand to the capital trainer’s nose which had counted as an ‘incapacitated blow’ – not a bad score).

With the mandatory grading over you were then given individual feedback along with suggestions on recommended training stations before breaking for lunch. After all the exercise you couldn’t help but feel much hungrier than you had before during breakfast, and helped yourself to a sandwich, along with an apple and a bottle of water from the provided catering. The feedback had been handed out on a card, in order of the district number, before you were dismissed for lunch, and you didn’t pay attention to where 1 and 2 had walked off to. Wanting to be alone anyway you walked around a corridor into an empty hallway and took a seat on the floor against the wall. Leaning back, you raised your knees and rested your elbows on your legs as you scanned across your feedback card. You noted there weren’t any grades or scores, but merely recordings of the time it took for you to complete the activity and a short written assessment next to each. At the bottom were the suggestions for which areas to focus on over the remaining days.

Your evaluation had described you as ‘a dark horse’. The Capital had picked up on the career’s alliance and noted that you were the physically weakest of the six members, however they gave you commendation for unconventional problem solving during the monkey bars. The primary suggestion was focusing on weapons based training in order to stand a chance of survival when the time came for the careers to turn against one another. There was also a suggestion to train more on agility based exercises that played to your existing skills, rather that bothering with weights or physical strength stations that would be impossible to build in such a short time.

“How did you go?”

The sudden voice and presence at your side, whilst you were intently focused on reading your card, caused you to jump and nearly swallow your last mouthful of sandwich down the wrong way. You managed to just catch it with an awkward choke, reaching for your bottle of water to swallow it down properly. To your absolute humiliation, you looked up to see Hoseok standing above you with an amused look on his face.

“Uh, fine I guess,” you muttered, fiddling with the card in your hand as he sat down beside you. “You?”

“As expected,” was all he replied with. You nodded awkwardly. You had seen him perform before you in all of the tasks and sail through each of them with ease. ‘As expected,’ meant nothing less than perfection for him. You couldn’t help but wonder if your death was going to be by his hand, and if that would just be ‘as expected’ for him as well.

“Let me see your card.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words were caught in your throat (much like your previous mouthful of sandwich) as Hoseok easily pinched your card out from your fingertips and passed you his along the carpet in return. Frowning, you picked his up, to at least pretend it was a mutual exchange.

“Did you swap cards with the others?” you asked, wondering why he was interested in your report. You skim read across his, finding commentary about Hoseok’s speed, skill and lethality, along with a note stating him as a lead contender, nothing that you weren’t already aware of.

“Nope,” Hoseok dismissed, lips pursed as he read your card much slower.

You frowned at this, passing his card across the floor and reaching over to try and grab yours back, only for Hoseok to lazily lean to the side away from you, with a hint of an amused smile. You let an annoyed huff of air out.

“So why are you reading mine then?”

At this Hoseok paused to raise an eyebrow and make eye contact with you over the top of your card in his hands.

“Because I don’t care about the others.”

He found the stunned look of confusion on your face to be absolutely adorable.

“But…” you paused, not even knowing what to say. Shouldn’t he at least care for his own district mate? Granted you didn’t care much for Namjoon but you were at least somewhat going along with him for the sake of presenting a cohesive alliance. And if he didn’t care about the alliance then what was he doing here with you? The implication of his statement was quite clear that he somehow cared about you, so what had you possibly done to warrant his apparent attention.

“Why?” was all you could eventually ask.

He lowered your card to the floor and slid it back towards you, leaning across with it. You predictably reached to pick your card back up and he instantly took the opportunity to put his hand over yours. You flinched and attempted to pull back, but his grip only tightened, forcing your hand to remain below his much larger one.

Your pulse began to rapidly accelerate. You knew he couldn’t harm you, not until you were in the arena. But to be alone and so easily caught and toyed with, by someone much more powerful than you, was frightening. You looked up from his hand to his handsome face, trying not to tremble as Hoseok stared back with a lazy smirk in place. The thumb on his hand over yours was softly stroking the skin around your wrist and you could swear your heart was pounding so fast he had to be able to feel your erratic pulse.

“Because I need you to be with me at the end.” His husky voice was a low murmur, as he leaned in closer again. Your hand remained clasped tightly below his 

“So you can have an easy kill, because I’m weaker than the others?” you frown, knowing your assessment would have told him as much. But Hoseok was quick with a denial.

“No.”

“Then why?” You pushed, growing frustrated with his indirect answers and your hand still trapped in his. Hoseok only tilted his head to the side and released a sigh, looking highly amused.

“Don’t you trust me? You know I’ve promised not to hurt you darling,” his low voice grew quieter still, barely above a whisper, causing you to lean in so you could hear him better.

“Darling?” You balked at the endearment. Whatever answer you could possibly imagine coming out of Hoseok, it definitely wasn’t that. “Hoseok I don’t know what kind of game your playi-”

“You’re not a game to me.” He cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. Undeterred you rushed to speak again.

“But we’re literally in The Hunger Games and one of us is going to have to kill the other. And you and I both know how much easier it would be for you to kill me, than the other way around.”

“Oh so you find the thought of killing me unbearable?”

He quirked his eyebrow with a smirk and again you tried to yank your hand back in annoyance, but he only moved his grip further up to clasp tightly around your wrist. His long fingers easily wrapped all the way around, as he then pulled your arm back towards him, causing your upper body to lean further forward. Unconsciously you let out a breathless whimper in shock, your faces now so close you could feel his breath fanning across the side of your cheek.

“I… I don’t even know how I can kill anybody. You’re the volunteer here and clearly the better fighter between us so you would easily kill me in a final two,” you whispered, trying to turn your head away from his, only for the side of your face to press against the wall.

“Oh but darling you’re wrong, to kill you would be to kill myself.”

The hand that wasn’t pinning your wrist to the ground moved to cradle the side of your face, his fingers threading into your hair and thumb running along the top of your cheekbone.

“Hoseok, stop.” You raised your free hand to push against his chest, but he was solid as a rock and didn’t even budge. Instead he only curled his torso in towards you, pinning you in place against his body and the wall. You whimpered in fear, eyes scanning the hallway trying to find a way out, only for Hoseok to press his nose against your temple and lips to the shell of your ear.

“You may not even know it yourself but I can feel it in your pulse how your heart calls for me. Every beat I feel beneath my fingertip sings to my own, that already belongs to you. If you were to die, my heart would have no need to beat without the one it beats for.”

His deep voice was a seductive purr as his breath against your ear sent a shiver throughout your entire body. His hold on your face forced you to look back into his eyes once more, which held the same intense passion you had seen in them last night.

“How c-can you even say something like that, it hasn’t even been a day s-since we met?” you choked as you felt tears beginning to sting in your eyes.

“Because I felt it the second I laid my eyes on you, and seeing you again this morning only made me feel a hundred times stronger.

“Please stop, I’m going to be dead in a week so can you please just not turn my life into some sick joke,” it was all you could do to beg as the first tear spilled from the corner of your eye, his thumb below easily wiping it away.

“I’m. Not. Joking,” he hissed, each word punctuated by his fingers burying into your hair and clenching tightly at the roots, causing you to gasp as more tears spilled out.

“You’re hurting me,” you whimpered, the hand on his chest reaching up to try and pull at his hand that was holding onto a fist full of your hair. His grip instantly released, his hand moving to grab onto yours and thread his fingers in between your own, before squeezing tightly.

“Not as much as you hurt me whenever you try to deny me,” he retorted, pulling your hand to his lips to place a kiss upon the back.

“What do I possibly gain from a game perspective to choose you as my final partner? You said it yourself that you’re the weakest so that means I’ll need to protect you from the other four when the alliance turns. And believe me princess, I will. I’ll slaughter every one of them in cold blood. I’ll snap the neck of anyone who so much as harms a single hair upon your head. I’m going to kill them all for you baby, and I’ll make you watch so you can see just far how far I’ll go for you.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” you whispered brokenly, tears spilling freely from your eyes now.

“Because,” Hoseok dropped your hand to grab ahold of your chin as his lips moved in closer. When he spoke you could feel them brushing against yours “you’re mine.”

But before Hoseok could firmly press his lips to yours in the kiss he longed for, a sudden shout broke the atmosphere he had worked so hard to build.

“YN!”

You never thought you’d be relieved to hear the sound of Namjoon’s angry voice barking in your direction, but his appearance around the corner and into the hallway caused you to exhale a long breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“What are you both doing here?” Namjoon growled, angrily striding towards you as Yoongi, Krystal, and Athena followed behind him.

Hoseok, who had his back turned to their direction, scowled in anger at the disruption, before quickly masking his face to a neutral expression. The sudden change in demeanour causing you to flinch.

“I found this one here having a bit of a breakdown over her report card,” Hoseok said, lazily getting to his feet and shooting you a wink as your jaw dropped in shock at his smooth and blatant lie.

“No! I- I…” You immediately went to protest only for the words to be caught in your throat. It would just be Hoseok’s word against your own. And who would believe you? His words were so insane you could barely even believe what he had just been saying.

“It’s ok YN,” he purred, as the others walked over towards you. You angrily got to your feet wiping your eyes, not wanting to be a crying mess on the floor in front of the whole group. “I was just telling her there’s no need to worry. First day freak outs can happen to the best of us.”

“I’m fine,” you scowled, crossing your arms and glaring at the floor and seeing the damned report card laying on the carpet.

“I just wanted some time to myself and if anything having someone around only made it worse” you bit back.

“Very well then,” Hoseok smirked raising his arms in a mock surrender gesture and waving his hands theatrically. “Excuse me for trying to be a good teammate.”

“I didn-” before you could rip into him, you were interrupted by another.

“Can you all give me one minute to talk to my district partner,” Namjoon grunted at the others. He didn’t bother waiting for an answer, grabbing a hold of the top of your arm and dragging you further back up the hallway. You didn’t know what was worse between him bossing you around since the train ride or Hoseok’s crazy confession, but what you did know was that if anyone else tried to manhandle you again you were going to take your chances on your own in the arena. It had only been one day and you were rapidly growing sick of this alliance. You’d rather die with dignity on your own than be dragged around like a dog’s chew toy.

“Let me go,” you hissed, when you were far away enough not to be overheard, grabbing his hand and ripping it off your arm. Namjoon just rolled his eyes before staring down at you from his tall height.

“What the fuck was that about?” he asked.

For a moment you breathed a sigh of relief. Trying to convince Athena or District 1 about Hoseok losing his mind would be one thing, but Namjoon was your own team mate. You vaguely knew each other from growing up in the same town. Maybe he might actually believe you. Glancing back to the others you saw them chatting amongst themselves, Krystal was now holding your report card and Yoongi gave a dismissive shrug to something Athena had just said. As if sensing your gaze, Hoseok glanced across to make eye contact. The corner of his lip curled up and he cocked his eyebrow smugly as if to say ‘go on and tell him, see if he believes you’. You scowled at him before turning back to Namjoon and grabbing a hold of his arm (missing the way Hoseok’s nose twitched in annoyance at you initiating the physical contact with another man).

“Namjoon, please, you have to believe me,” you began, instantly lowering your voice as you squeezed his bicep imploringly – your hand didn’t even wrap halfway around the much stronger boy’s arm.

“What happened?” he asked bluntly, eyebrows narrowing into a frown.

So you told him. Speaking as quietly as possible and trying to rush through the details as fast as you could, you hurriedly told him about how Hoseok had found you alone and stolen your card, before pinning you against the wall, claiming you were his, and threatening to kill all the others. You finished by telling him how it was only through the rest of the group showing up when they did, that had stopped Hoseok from kissing you.

“It was humiliating,” you hissed out, trying to choke down the lump in your throat that had built up as you were recalling what happened.

“I don’t want to be in the career pack anymore, I can’t do it, not with him.”

You looked up at Namjoon, begging him with your eyes to believe what you had just said.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

You dropped his arm and visibly recoiled as if his words had physically hit you. As far as you were concerned he may as well have.

“Some pretty boy spouts some Romeo and Juliet bullshit so you want to leave the best chance either of us have for surviving this thing? How can you actually be that stupid?!”

You were fuming. How dare he just dismiss what had happened to you like that. You had taken a leap of faith, hoping that as your own team mate he would believe you, and instead he had virtually spat in your face as a response.

“I’m not stupid Namjoon!” You sneered. “The one year my name gets called out is the one year no girls volunteer because they knew that you were going to. If the girls who have spent their whole lives training know they can’t beat you, how the fuck do you think I feel right now? Maybe it’s easier for you because you’ve actually got a chance in these games, but I’m going to die. And none of this is my choice, you actually chose to be here! You were the one who said on the train that you wanted us to join the career pack, so I did! And now I’m the one being harassed, not you! Stop treating me like a child because I’m not just a pawn you can tell what to do until you decide to kill me.”

“If you don’t want to be treated like a child then stop acting like a pathetic fool over the first boy to give you some attention. Do you think your pretty little face is somehow special enough for Hoseok to actually fall in love with at first sight?”

“Of course not!”

“You should be thanking me for pulling your head back in from whatever deluded little fantasy he’s trying to spin. Are you that stupid you can’t tell he’s just trying to divide us so you want to work with him instead of me by the time we get to the end game? At the very least you and I know each other and I guarantee you, in that arena it’s better the devil you know”

You wanted to point out how you were the one to tell him about Hoseok, and clearly were trying to work with Namjoon instead, only for him to berate you, but logic was out the window by this stage.

“Is it? Cause it sounds to me like you’re just keeping me around until you decide to break my neck when it’s convenient for you,” you snapped instead.

“That’s how alliances work sweetheart. You watch my back in the pack to make sure 1 or 2 don’t just slit my throat in my sleep. I drag your ungrateful ass around and make sure you aren’t taken out by some amateur who wouldn’t know the difference between a liver and an intestine. Is that how you want to die? Bleeding out for hours after being stabbed by an untrained idiot and spending your final moments in agony? Would you rather die by someone beating your head in with a rock because that’s the only weapon they know how to use? Let’s see how beautiful you are with your skull smashed in huh. Or do you want to go from starvation or hypothermia because you’re lost and all alone?”

You were absolutely stunned. He was expecting you to just follow him around the arena like a little puppy, where the only incentive for doing so would be his definition of a merciful death? Before you could tell him where he could shove his alliance, your argument was cut off by the approaching voice of Athena.

“I don’t know what kind of little lover’s quarrel you two have got going on here” you could swear you heard a warning growl from Hoseok “but get your shit together. We can’t have infighting in the alliance, especially before we even get into the arena. You,” a point at Namjoon, “stop treating her like shit. And you,” a point at you, “Stop looking like you’re about to cry. You’re a career for fuck sake, a cold blooded killer. Even though you’re obviously not, you at least need to look like one to scare off the other tributes otherwise you’re going to be the lowest hanging fruit they try and pick off first.”

You stared blankly back as Athena kept talking. The other tributes. You had been so preoccupied thinking about Hoseok and Namjoon’s cruelty, you hadn’t even considered your position without them. By now you were established as a career in the eyes of 18 other tributes, regardless of if you wanted to be one or not. From the past years of the games you knew that the other districts would take any opportunity they could to eliminate a career that somehow wound up on their own.

You were completely and utterly ruined no matter what direction you chose to go.

“Hoseok, Namjoon, you two are coming with me to the obstacle course run for a few hours. We need to do some teamwork after you two had your little dick measuring contest before in the graded courses. You two need to do something to make it look like you’re unified because right now because that’s something other tributes can exploit. Krystal, YN, and Yoongi will go to the rope tying station so YN can help us with knots and show off that she’s actually needed in our alliance to the others”

Namjoon nodded curtly whilst Hoseok clearly looked more annoyed at the idea of being split from you and having to work with the Namjoon. However, he quickly covered his expression and nodded as well. Athena gave each of them a shove on the shoulder to get them moving and they walked off out the hallway and back into the training compound.

You took a deep breath, grateful to have a break from either of their presence before looking between Yoongi and Krystal. They didn’t seem particularly interested in you, their sharp eyes and beautiful features were relaxed into a neutral expression that only suggested boredom. That was perfectly fine with you. As a fisherman’s daughter you were indeed well versed in knots and grateful for the reprise which would allow you to spend some time on something you were actually confident with.

“Alright, show me where the knotting station is”

Note: This story was originally a one shot in my mind and has now reached a planned 6 chapters. Aha. I suck.

Ideally I wanted the 'before the games' section to just be one chapter, but found it was starting to get too long after this reached over 7000 words and I still have the other training days, final assessment/grade out of 12 and the interviews with Caesar to cover (those will be in the next chapter, with the games starting in the update after)

The concept of the assessment came from the 1st movie where Atala (the woman who does that ‘in 2 weeks most of you will be dead’ speech in the training centre) mentions a mandatory assessment, so I just worked with an idea from that.

This chapter hopefully showcases more of Hoseok's Yandere nature along with establishing just how much or a horrible character Namjoon is (I swear I'll do a better fic of Namjoon as the lead soon).

[octalove]

IV: The Dinner

(Batgirl/Red Hood)

Brief note; per demand, this little trilogy will now be an ongoing series🥺thank u all for the support! i was not expecting it at all. ur comments make my day!! i hope u enjoy this chapter bearing in mind that i wasn’t intending on a full length fic, so i hope u can put up with any missteps in the plot or writing. i’m making it up as i go. kiss kiss

Description: Reader makes an ally, and attends a tense dinner. part one, two, and three.

A mild blue dawn was just beginning to flit through the blinds, and I sighed heavily, stretching a little, and running a hand across my face. My skin was cold to the touch. Rolling over stiffly, I glanced at the clock on my nightstand.

5:26a.m.

Nineteen minutes before my alarm. I was too cold to go back to sleep, I knew, as much as Alfred had requested I try and get more of it. Pulling myself up, the sheets slipped off my bare shoulders and folded onto themselves. Once in a blue moon, I would forego making it up again, usually accompanied by an excuse. Today, I didn’t have one. I put my feet on the floor, mind buzzing.

I was done tossing and turning, and decided to get up and shower. Afterward, I threw on my uniform, and got to work on my face. A little bronzy eyeshadow, some mascara and lip balm. I could’ve turned my face into a work of art, but I was tired from my sleepless night and doing much else seemed like a strain.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in.” I was expecting Bruce or Alfred, but I caught Tim’s reflection in my vanity mirror.

“Hey.” He said.

“Good morning.” I replied tensely. He sat on my bed. Okay. Weird. Tim was a year younger than me- but always ordained himself something of an older brother. His brainpower made learned helplessness and easy state to slip into when he was around- always fixing my PS4, or recovering lost files from my laptop. When we first met, I used to use those things as a crutch to interact with him, as neither of us were particularly forthcoming. These days, we were as close as any pair of siblings.

“What’s up?” I asked, tucking away my mascara wand.

“Oh, I just thought I’d… check up on you. Before school started.”

I was the only one of the Waynes attending Gotham Academy at the moment. Damian was still at Gotham Prep, but by the time he would attend next year, I’d be graduated. I wondered if Tim ever missed it. He garnered his fair share of attention; mostly because of his attractive status and predisposition of agreeability. Before he dropped out, I used the be the subject of mediation for every eligible teenage girl that wanted to get to know my brother- no, the other one. With the soft hair. The chem tutor.

I laughed a little. “Do I seem like I need it?” Tim shrugged. I got up and plopped on the duvet beside him. My window was open a crack, filling the room with a chilly breeze and the scent of moisture and petrichor.

“Did Bruce make you get up for this?” I tried again, keeping my playful tone. He sighed and shook his head.

“Bruce isn’t the only one who’s noticed you lately.” He said, with contrasting seriousness that made my smile fall.

“What’s there to notice? Seriously.” I questioned.

He sighed again and twisted his lip. I knew what that meant. He was about to list everything different I’d been doing for the past three weeks, either alphabetically or by severity. “You look tired. You get home and go straight to your room. You keep fidgeting during briefings. You look distracted. You’re avoiding Damian- which, I get it- but like, more than usual. Dick said you haven’t texted him all week. You usually have something to say about your day at dinner, but-“

“Okay. I get it.”

A brief moment passed, where I watched him pull a looser string from the duvet.

“I know you went somewhere. On the 21st, when we were patrolling in Otisburg. You went somewhere for forty-two minutes.”

I blinked. “Oh.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything-“ He added quickly, looking at me. “Really, I have know idea why you left. I’m sure it was nothing, I just… you’ve been acting weird ever since. Where did you go?”

I swallowed, and my intestines felt like lead. Really, I was relieved. Here I was, in my room I’d decorated with Wayne money, with my brother who evidently cared enough about me to notice my typical word count at dinner, asking me what was wrong. And a lot was wrong.

So, I smoothed my plaid skirt and told him about the night of the 21st- and only that. From Red Hood, to Hoffman, to the warehouse. Every vivid detail I could remember. I decided to leave out my little truancy adventure, along with meeting him in the alley. Lifting up his mask. Having his exposed skin close enough to touch. His gunpowder smell. By the end, Tim was frowning. The following silence could’ve crushed a coke can.

“Shit.” He muttered.

“Yeah.” I echoed. “Shit.”

He didn’t asked why I didn’t tell Bruce. Or Anyone. He didn’t ask why it was so important to me to do this by myself. All he did was take in the information and start putting it together.

“Jesus- you could’ve died. But all that Hoffman stuff. Why you?”

“Exactly!” I breathed.

Another knock on the door, and Alfred’s voice carried through, telling me it was time to go. I got up. Tim nodded and followed suit, no doubt carrying my every last recounting in his piggy-bank memory.

“Please don’t tell Bruce.” I said, some amount of fear slipping into my voice. “I know it was a stupid thing to do and it was stupid not to tell anyone. But he’ll never trust me again.” Tim hesitated at the door.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

I climbed into the backseat of the car, and stared at the cityscape running past the windows. The anxiety had lifted. One of my growing number of secrets revealed. In its wake, the sudden absence left a sense of clarity. I remembered why I had kept it to begin with.

Dick was gifted. The first. The talented boy who could fly. Babs and Tim were brilliant; genius far beyond the confines of academia. Damian was skilled. Trained from birth, the blood son. It nestled here him neatly, right where he belonged. What was I? I wasn’t born with athletic ability beyond my years, or genius intellect. Without that information- without my secrets- I had nothing else to give.

*

Thursday night was dinner. The whole family. It was Bruce’s excuse to drag Dick out of his apartment in Blüdhaven, and for Alfred to exercise a new recipe, since everyone was on a strict lean-means and superfoods regimen every other waking day. Babs attended occasionally, when work didn’t keep her busy, and Tim was only allowed to pass if he promised to rest instead.

I met his eyes as everyone was rounded into the dining room by Alfred like a herd of sheep; he gave me some imperceptible knowing look that promised to keep my secret.

We sat down and sipped water from crystal glasses as the table was set with food, muttering amongst ourselves about our days. Dick was given a coffee with the wrong name (‘Nick’), Babs met up with her friend from high school (Olivia something or other), and Damian completed a group project with some incompetent classmates (they all were- even the professors). Vigilante talk wasn’t forbidden, but generally skirted around so as to offer a small reprieve of normalcy during the week.

There was an exception to this unspoken rule when there was a particularly exciting case on the table. Unfortunately for me and my anxiety, the case of the Red Hood was a very exciting one.

“Any new breaks with Red Hood?” Dick asked through miso soup. Bruce sighed.

“He made some movements in Robbinsville. Gone before we could get there. He’s got his men on a tight leash- we couldn’t get any of them to talk.”

“Course not. There’s rumors flying all over the department. One of the Ioveanu family branches payed out a huge security detail for their private mansion.”

“He hasn’t hunted anyone in their home, has he?” I asked. I pictured him standing in front of me- maskless, in my academy uniform.

“No, it’s not his MO.” Barbara answered.

“Not yet. It’s only been six months, and he’s progressing rapidly.” Bruce diagnosed grimly.

“Are you scared he’s gonna join us for dinner?” Dick joked, throwing a wink my way.

“Haha.” I muttered. Actually, I hadn’t slept because of the very idea.

“If you’re nervous, you could always stay home next patrol.” Damian suggested pointedly. To him, existing in the realm of crimefighting was a competition, and he was always looking for others to drop out of the race. I resisted the urge to fling a pea at him.

“I’m not nervous.” I said coolly.

“You’ve been practically trembling since we fought his pathetic lackeys.”

“Damian.” Bruce warned, from the head of the table. I flipped the smallest Wayne the middle finger. He resigned, but I swore I saw amusement on his lips.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Red Hood is very skilled and very prolific. It’s a daunting case.” Bruce continued.

“Thanks, but I’m okay. Really.” I said, trying not to sound annoyed, and feeling like a spotlight was over my head, operated by the ghost of Hoffman. I almost laughed as I pictured it.

“That’s good to hear. We’ve been concerned.” Alfred added.

“Wow. I’m the star of the show around here.” I remarked dryly.

“We can’t help it, Miss Independent.” Dick said teasingly. “You’re just a good mystery.”

“Reminds me of Talia.” Tim said casually. The silverware stopped clanging.

It was a shameless subject change. Damian’s mother was an inflammatory topic for all parties. Bruce’s moral contempt didn’t reach the likes of Talia Al Ghul and Selena Kyle, immoral though they were. Beauty makes anything charming- and when paired with an impeccable taste in dress, even murder and thievery can be minimized into something of a quirk. Bruce thought so, anyway.

As for Damian, he had grappled with his dismissal from Talia’s side for what was now a majority of his life, and still possessed this deep-rooted, inextinguishable attachment to his mother. It was the hollow soreness any young boy would have in his position. Tim called him mama’s boy until he finally displayed a frightening amount of disdain for the title and actually begged him to stop. Tim agreed to, and I agreed to pretend I never heard a thing.

Dick disagreed with both of those sentiments and viewed Talia as someone who wasn’t worth the trouble. His dismissal embarrassed Bruce and offended Damian, so I knew the dinner table had been sufficiently turned into a powder keg. Tim and I shared a look as I expressed silent gratefulness, and he resigned to inspecting a dumpling, while I picked around my haka noodles.

The rest of dinner was quiet. Somehow, somewhere in the silence all had been decidedly forgiven. First by Babs who asked me to pass the pepper. Then by Dick who said the vegetables were good. Thank you, Alfred. Damian still looked pissed, and Bruce kept stealing glances at the clock.

I texted Tim under the table.

Thanks for taking one for the team.

The reply: You owe me one. I think Damian’s gonna poison my food.

We both glanced at the youngest, who was darkly mesmerized by what appeared to be Tim’s soup bowl.

He quickly added, Wait, actually tho? And we both fought laughter like two kids in the back of the class. It felt good to have an ally. Even if he still didn’t know the whole truth.

[skzsauce01]

Normal Pt 5

Description: For more skilled maneuvers, dragon shifters need a rider to help them out. After rejecting multiple riders, Hyunjin, a traumatized and handicapped shifter, is assigned to you. To add a cherry on top, you’re deaf, so how are you supposed to cast spells to free him from his limitation, let alone the anger in his heart?

Warning: violence

Word Count: 4.3k

Pairing: fem!reader x dragon!Hyunjin

Pt: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5

It’s New Year’s eve. Rather than counting down at home, you and about a hundred other riders and dragons are lined up at the edge of a survival course. Unlike your assessments, the Race is across all year levels and does not include proctoring. Once it has begun, you are on your own to defend yourself from more physical competitors and the beasts of the wild until you finish or the day has passed. Only the strongest and fittest take on the feat each year.

‘Ready?’ you ask your partner.

He gives a sharp nod, and hears his professor yelling “Happy new year!” indicating the start of the race. For the first few hours, Hyunjin tries to pull ahead in his dragon form, taking advantage of his natural camouflage, but returns to human form during the day. 

‘Let’s rest here for a bit,’ you write to him after you dismount, knowing how tired he must be after flying all morning. Hyunjin knew the dark is the best time for travel, so he tried not to waste a second of it, albeit from the breaks you forced him to take and the one battle someone engaged you into. Honestly, that person was a fool, challenging a Twilight Terror such as himself, Hyunjin thought haughtily. 

Once human again, Hyunjin collapses onto you.

I told you to tell me when you’re tired! We could have taken more stops! he can imagine you nagging as you drag him towards a hollowed out tree. He lets out a coughy-laugh at his hypothetical dialogue and continues the rest of the walk himself, knowing you too are worn out from using magic nonstop. 

‘I’m going to get some more water,’ you write to him, waving your empty bottles.

‘I’ll come with,’ he replies, getting up from the tree.

You shake your head and force him to sit back down. ‘Rest. The stream’s not far, and I have my daggers.’

‘Well, yell if another dragon spots you.’

You salute him, and he watches your back walk away with a tired sigh. Wearily, he leans back against the tree and looks up for any predators. He doesn’t even notice his vision growing dimmer and dimmer as the winter breeze tickles at his hairs until a voice pulls him out of his slumber.

“Hwang Hyunjin? I finally found you! This forest made it a tad difficult, but no worries.”

The Terror freezes. He knows that voice anywhere. “Lee.”

“Long time no see, my boy. Turns out you were hiding in this academy all along! I should have known.”

Hyunjin turns slowly around to see the man he hates most now with a large scar across a sewn-shut eye that was not there before. In his hand dangles a purple necklace. “You can’t do anything when I’m human,” he snarls.

Lee chuckles. “So what? You’re going to stay like this for the rest of the race? You can’t even survive like that out here, let alone win.”

“How did you get in here anyway? This is a students only event,” Hyunjin hisses.

“How doesn’t matter,” the man hums. “What matters is that I’ve found you now, and it’s only the matter of when you’re going to be mine again. Speaking of which, how’s your new rider? Pretty little thing, isn’t she?”

“You keep your dirty hands off of her!” Hyunjin hollers.

Lee only chuckles at his anger. “Oh, my dear boy. You know that you’re the only one I’m interested in, but if she can help me get to you, then I suppose I don’t mind her company again.”

Again?

“Ever wonder why my dragon isn’t here right now?”

As if on cue, a grey reptile lifts off into the sky. Between its two front paws is you, tied and gagged. Behind your back, your fingers are spelling something.

‘Run!’

Like claws he will! Not when you were attacked by goblins and definitely not now. He unsheathes a knife and makes a long cut along the abdominon of the dragon as it swoops down. It roars in pain and drops you.

Hyunjin dashes over, standing between you and the foe. Lee mounts his pet and again flies towards Hyunjin, grabbing you both between different limbs, and returns to the air. Hyunjin stabs and stabs with his knife, but with his master on his back, the grey dragon’s body is no longer its own. It can roar all it wants, but trumpets of victory is all Lee can hear. 

“So nice to see you again, Miss L/N. I’ve been looking for you too.”

Hyunjin looks at you confused. What business did you have with Lee, and why was he talking aloud to you? However, you are too occupied thrashing around to free yourself to notice your friend.

Knowing you can’t respond to him with your gag, Lee turns to Hyunjin. “So what’s it going to be, Boy? Are you going to transform, or am I going to have to kill this poor, innocent girl here?” he taunts, having the dragon fly higher and higher into the sky. “Guess you can decide on your way down!”

With that, the dragon drops both your and his bodies. Hyunjin knows that it’s all over for him if he transforms, but it’s all over for both of you if he doesn’t. The ground is approaching much faster than survivable. Decide on his way down? There’s only one option given to him, and Lee knows it.

Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, tearing away your gag and mumbling a spell. Lee cackles triumphantly as deep purple scales appear before his eyes. He flies closer to Hyunjin and casts a spell immediately, making him freeze up to prevent him from flying away. However, this means Hyunjin is continuing accelerating downward.

A dragon can survive a fall from this height, but not you who is still wrapped up in his frozen arms. Luckily, there’s one part of him that Lee doesn’t control: his white prosthetic fin. Hyunjin angles it so that he rotates just in time for him to land on his back and uses his belly to absorb your impact.

“How sweet, taking the fall for your savior this time, eh?” Lee teases, walking over to the fallen dragon. Hyunjin can only glare at him uselessly. 

Savior? He doesn’t have much time to think as pain replaces all thoughts when Lee wastes no time on his first incision, this time for a claw. He can hear you singing from between his arms where he has you securely protected between his arms, but it is in vain; even you cannot over power another magician whom a dragon has sworn to. 

“You know, maybe it was a good thing you were rescued six years ago,” Lee hums cockily, inspecting the claw he has just detached from the Terror. “Your parts are even more beautiful now that they’ve matured.”

Rescued? Hyunjin doesn’t remember any of this. One moment he blacked out from pain, and the next, he woke up at this school.

Just then, he hears a voice from above. “Hyunjin?”

On any other day, the Terror would have cursed at that voice, but today, it was music to his ears.

“Oh my claws, that’s Hyunjin!” cries Chan

“Got more friends to help you out?” Lee scoffs. “What are they going to do against a Twilight Terror?”

He forces Hyunjin onto his feet, dropping you to the side and mounting the dragon to which Hyunjin screeches in distress, but before he can see where you landed, Lee has already taken him into the air. From a distance, Changbin is zeroing in on his location.

“Fire.”

Hyunjin watches in horror as a flame erupts from his own mouth towards his friend. 

“Wanna fight?” Changbin roars, narrowly missing the attack.

“It’s my rider’s doing!”

“Rider? I thought you hated riders!”

“He’s why!” 

“Hyunjin!” Chan exclaims once he’s confirmed his identity.

“A prefect, eh? Ooh, I’m really scared,” Lee laughs.

“Where’s Y/N?” demands Chan.

“Somewhere. Don’t care. You can find her now before some wild goblins kill her, or you can try to fight me and end up dead. No guarantee your corpses would be buried together though.”

“And who are you?” growls Chan. He casts his gaze down and sees Hyunjin’s bleeding paw. “Nevermind, I know exactly who you are, Lee.”

“Surprise, surprise! I’m famous! But unfortunately for you, your time to escape unscathed has run out,” Lee snickers, making Hyunjin release another shot of fire. 

“Just find Y/N!” Hyunjin begs his roommate.

“And leave you to this man?”

“Don’t worry, Hyunjin,” Chan calls out as if he can read the dragon’s mind. “Y/N’s not that weak. Just worry about yourself for now!”

Chan avoids another fireball as he talks. Regardless of who’s controlling him, Hyunjin is still Hyunjin, and Chan cannot hurt him. He also knows that any attack he aims at Lee will just be blocked using the Terror’s body. How is he to free him from that man? he ponders, skillfully slanting Changbin to avoid a stream of flames. 

In the midst of his planning, Chan spts something grey in the corner of his eye. He suppresses a giggle when he notices it’s you on the back of Lee’s previous ride with your ability to control other dragons. You are signing a rescue plan to him, and Chan repeats it to Changbin who relays it to Hyunjin discreetly, all the while standing his ground against Lee and keeping everything under the villain’s radar.

Hyunjin wants to yelp happily knowing that you are alright, but he keeps his calm to hide your presence. He gives the slightest of nods when he’s understood the plan, hoping that you can see it. Once you’ve received the okay signal, you jump into action.

Lee is surprised to say the least. You swoop in with his dragon, biting off Hyunjin’s white prosthetic which throws the dragon off balance. Unlike you, Lee has never flown Hyunjin with only half the normal number of fins. He yells curses as his dragon begins to topple, and Chan takes this chance to attack from the front, ripping off Hyunjin’s necklace. 

As soon as he does so, Both Lee and Hyunjin begin their descent to the ground, so Changbin grabs Hyunjin. 

“You won’t succeed again L/N!” Lee curses having spotted you. Since you and the dragon you are riding are nearby, Lee regains control of it, overpowering your magic with his rights as its owner.

“Y/N!” Chan yells, reaching his hand down for you as Changbin swoops in, lifting you away from the reach of Lee. Together, you watch the man ride away with taunts of his return.

“I told them the course wasn’t ready!” Chan scowls as soon as all four of you are back on the ground.

“What do you mean?”

“Remember when I got pulled out of the winter ball?” he both sighs and signs. “There was something wrong with the force field around the course. Force fields are what keeps nonstudents like that creep out of campus, but we were having trouble maintaining the one around this course. I told them we needed more time to fix it, but they insisted that the New Year’s Race can’t be postponed!”

‘Well what are we going to do now?’ you ask. ‘Hyunjin can’t turn into a dragon for even a second, and two humans aren’t going to survive until midnight in this forest.’

“Having three people on a dragon might be dangerous especially with all these battles going on, but we can wait here with you,” Chan offers, and Changbin nods. 

‘We can’t possibly ask that of you. Besides, Lee already has his eyes on Hyunjin. He can’t keep hiding in the school forever.’

“I have a plan,” Hyunjin announces. All heads turn towards him, and he to you with his notepad. ‘I’ll swear to you. It’s the only way you can overpower Lee.’

Changbin agrees, silently surprised that Hyunjin is willing to hand himself to another rider after six years of swearing that it’ll never happen. Chan on the other hand, is surprised at how bewildered you look. Shouldn’t you be ecstatic that he’s finally accepted you?

You grab Hyunjin’s wrist and stare into his eyes. Don’t.

Your partner furrows his brows. ‘Why not?’

You look around and finally back to your partner. ‘Can we talk? Privately.’

Hyunjin nods and excuses the two of you. Once you’re alone, you start writing urgently.

‘You can’t swear to me.’

‘This whole time, I thought I was the one with a problem with it, not you.’

‘It’s just that…’ You bite your lip, unsure of how to tell him. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

Hyunjin takes your hand in his. ‘What do you mean?’

‘The first person you’ve sworn to has already hurt you. If I do it too, you’d never recover from it.’

‘Y/N, what are you trying to say?’

You pull your hand back and turn away. ‘I’m not a dragon rider, and I was never intended to be your rider from the day we were assigned to each other,’ you finally confess. 

Hyunjin puts a hand on your shoulder to turn you back his way. You can’t look at him.

‘I’m a dragon trainer. Because I can control dragons that aren’t my own, I’m hired to rehabilitate injured and traumatized dragons such as yourself. After the treatment is complete, I adjust them to a real rider.’

Hyunjin can’t believe his eyes. ‘So what are you saying? All this time, everything we’ve been through together, you did just for a wage? All the things you’ve said to me, were they all just scripts?’ Are all my feelings just bought by money? 

You press his hand down to stop him from writing and shake your head fervently. ‘I sincerely care for every dragon I work with!’

He glares at you.

‘Please believe me…’ You bite your lip. ‘And if it makes you feel any better, I’m not getting paid to work with you.’

‘Then why are you here?’ he scoffs, making you wince.

‘The girl who rescued you from Lee six years ago asked me to be here.’

‘Someone you owed a favor to or--’ He cuts himself off, and his eyes widen into round discs upon realization. How familiar he thought you looked from the start. How you knew his preference for appai berries. The unidentified girl in his flashbacks. How Lee knew who you are earlier. It all adds up. 

“It was you,” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper as memories he tried to repress come rushing back. 

“Why?” he kept roaring. “Why?” 

In his blurred vision, he spotted an pre-teen version of you, Lee’s rider-in-trainning, approaching him with a blade behind your back. 

“Ah, Miss L/N. Have you brought the other scalpels like I asked?”

You nod your head carefully having picked up a sense of what he is attempting. “What are you doing, Master?”

“Let me teach you the real reason we spend so much time befriending these beasts,” Lee chuckled. “Watch!” 

With that, he ripped Hyunjin’s fin clean off, making your heart drum in your ear with fear.

“No!” you cried. You raised your hidden blade, trying to stop your mentor. You succeed, giving him a large gash right across his eye. 

Lee screamed, and his magic faltered for just a moment. You took this chance to approach Hyunjin for his necklace, but all he saw was a person coming at him with a knife. In his fear, Hyunjin released a series of flames. You managed to rip off his necklace right as Lee recovered from the shock and as the dungeon Hyunjin lit on fire began tumbling down on all of you.

And then all was quiet.

The last thing he saw before the world went black was a girl struggling to get a pillar off of him. She was bleeding in the head right where her auditory cortexes were.

‘I was so scared of Lee, I left you at Sheng Academy and ran. I hid and got around with whatever wild dragon I can use to enter local competitions for their prize money and learned to ride without my ears until a rich lady recognized what I can do and paid me to rehabilitate one of her trophy dragons with an amputated leg. My career started after that.’

‘So I’m the one who blew out your ears?’ Hyunjin gasps.

‘That’s not the point.’ You reach up for his cheek as a single tear of guilt slides down. ‘The point is, you don’t want to swear to me.’

‘No, I can and I will,’ Hyunjin writes adamantly. ‘You can leave me, or cut me up; I don’t care. It’s the only way we can get Lee off both our backs.’ 

You disagree. ‘We can break his pendant and release you from your oath.’

‘Nothing can break a magic pendant though.’

‘No, not nothing.’

“You’re insane,” Changbin decides, demanding that Chan signs it to you which the latter refuses.

‘What are the chances of its success?’ Chan asks instead.

‘It depends on him,’ you answer, motioning to Hyunjin. ‘You need to leave now, or this won’t work.’

‘This… this is too dangerous. I can’t allow it!’ 

You look Chan in the eyes. Your charisma isn’t only limited to dragons. ‘You’re going to have to.’

The oldest male takes your hand and frowns at you. He then kisses the back of one before letting go. ‘Come back to me.’

You don’t answer.

Hyunjin makes sure Chan has left before he turns back to where they have found Lee sleeping on a field. “Okay, here we go.”

You nod and step into the clearing, carefully sliding a blade from your thigh. The winter sunset kisses your hair as you tiptoe towards the man. You let out a low note to keep his dragon asleep and hover over your target. You pull the knife back and bring it down to his neck when a hand catches your wrist.

“You honestly think that would work?” Lee sneers. “Have you learned nothing from your time with me?”

You snarl and jump back.

“Why so shy? It’s just me, Sweetie,” he hums, standing up and spreading his arms out. “But honestly, what were you thinking, coming alone at me with nothing but a dagger? What happened to your other friends? Left you behind to complete the race, I suppose? That is quite typical of prefects; they care about nothing but their image.”

Hyunjin clenches his jaw, feeling oddly defensive for the rider.

He continues. “Not answering? That’s alright. I must admit, it’s rather noble of you to try and save little Hyunjin, but as I always say, noble acts are usually the most foolish ones.”

Lee says something and his dragon awakens. It knocks you to the ground, and Lee bounds you up like before. “Now, let’s hear you scream for your knight in shining armor.”

He takes your own blade and digs it into your shoulder, staining your white coat with red. You bite your tongue and snarl at him.

“Resilient, aren’t you? That’s why I took you under my wing. Well, that and your special ability.” A round kick to the head. “Too bad your heart isn’t nearly as tough. We could have been rich, Miss L/N, we really could have. That Terror could have bought us a whole mansion with a pretty fountain in the front.” Another stab. You can’t hold it this time and let out a cry. “There it is! Good girl,” Lee approves. “You know, it’s not too late. Just give me the Terror, and I’ll let you free! I’ll even take you back and give you your own room in the mansion.” 

Lee sighs at your lack of response and motions at his dragon. It takes a step back and conjugates magic at its mouth for an attack. At this, Hyunjin cannot sit still and watch any longer. With a powerful roar, he flies into the clearing and throws the other reptile into the trees while shooting a fireball at Lee. 

“Oh goodie!” Lee cheers and grounds Hyunjin immediately. He turns to you and pulls on a rope which tugs you up so that you dangle from a tree. “I’ll tell you how this is going to work this time, Hyunjin. I am going to light this tree on fire--” he does so-- “and going to take, oh, just some of your parts. If you cooperate, I might finish in time for what’s left of you to save her before she burns to death! Isn’t that fun?”

Hyunjin roars in protest, but stays still for his master. He keeps his eyes on you as you thrash around in attempts to save yourself from the incoming flames. He doesn’t even feel Lee's knife entering the second part of his tail; all he can hear are your panicked gasps, and all he knows is that Lee is going far too slowly for him to finish on time. Forget his threat, Hyunjin has to break out of his hold now or you’re dead!

But how?

He catches sight of your eyes that are filled with tears from ash irritation and fear of your impending doom. Your gazes lock together and you stop squirming. Slowly, you let a small smile spread over your lips. 

That smile. He has seen that smile before. It’s the one you gave him before saving him from the goblins at your own expense. It’s a smile of gratitude for the time spent together and apologizes for the time you’ve cut short. It’s a smile of hope for him and resignation for yourself. It’s a smile of peace. A smile of acceptance. A smile of farewell.

“Hyunjin...” 

The voice. His name. It’s softer than a feather yet stronger than a storm. It pierces through his heart and awakens something in him. He wants nothing more than to hear it over and over again. From you. From you when you’re happy, from you when you’re mad, from you when you’re excited, from you when you’re alive.

“NO!” he bellows, watching your coat catch its first flames and your body going limp.

Hyunjin wills his front arm to move to crawl to you, and it does. 

“What are you doing?” Lee shrieks as his purple necklace begins to vibrate. “STOP!”

Another step. It’s now enough for Hyunjin to crane his neck up off the floor. 

‘No, not nothing,’ you had told him. ‘A dragon’s loyalty oath puts its master before itself. We just have to find something you want more than Lee when you swore to him. We just have to find something you want more than yourself.’

Hyunjin unflurs his wings and Lee’s necklace shatters into his face, piercing through his brain. This goes unnoticed as only one thought resides in Hyunjin’s mind, body, and soul: hearing you say his name again.

Without either of his tail fins, Hyunjin can no longer fly. He opts to climb through the flames and rip you from the ropes with his jaw. When he succeeds, he falls to the ground and rolls around to put out the flames. 

Hyunjin immediately returns to human form and begins resuscitation on you, ignoring the burns he’d just received himself.

“Come on, Y/N, come on!” he cries. “I did not just agree to your stupid plan for you to die on me!”

He pinches your nose and blows twice, making sure your chest rises each time. On the second one, you suddenly cough, spraying black saliva everywhere. 

“Hyun…” you try before being interrupted with another cough attack.

When you turn back to face him, you see him with the widest smile you’d ever seen. He lets his head collapse onto you and soaks your chest in tears. Weakly, you bring your hand to his head and stroke his hair.

“... jin.”

‘So this is it then? Really?’

You press a new white frame onto his pendant. The second rising sun of the year casts a glow around the both of you.

Hyunjin sighs and helps you adjust your new white coat around your cast. ‘Your wounds haven't even healed yet.’

‘I’ll be fine. Promise.’

‘I know you can be, but I don’t trust that you won’t do something reckless again.’

‘Touche,’ you laugh. It’s a beautiful laugh. Hyunjin wishes he could record this one. ‘Make sure you graduate, okay?’

‘I won’t let you down,’ he promises. ‘Have you told Chan?’

‘Why would I tell Chan?’

He rolls his eyes. ‘You know he has the biggest crush on you.’

‘He deserves someone who’s not trying to get herself killed every week.’

‘Sounds like my kind of girl,” Hyunjin winks. 

You scoff humorously and toss a red bag at him. He catches it and knows exactly what’s inside. 

‘Good work, Hyunjin!’

He shakes his head and pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket, and unfolds the crumpled parchment. He shows you the back of it which reads ‘Good work’ then folds it before flipping it over so that all you can see is the word ‘friend.’ It’s the note you had given him during your first practice when he asked you who you are.

You place a hand over your heart, touched.

Hyunjin walks over and pulls you into a hug. “Thank you. For everything.”

~4 years later~

You wipe sweat from your forehead and look up to the new school you had built for disabled dragons and riders alike. There are still a few odds and ends you have to sort out, but you cannot be more excited for the opening. 

Just then, you feel the snap of a twig from someone approaching you from behind. You whip around to confront the intruder, but before you can, he speaks. Or rather, signs.

‘Are you hiring? I have a degree from Sheng Academy,’ the man signs fluently.

Your aggravation melts into joy. 

“Hyunjin!”

--end--

~ ad.gold