#that’s all anyone will see while inside I feel like I’m just gaping wounds and ugly rotting flesh

[lesbiansanemi]

It just sucks it just really fucking does and I never want to admit this because it’s “wrong” to want to “be normal” because these things shouldn’t be considered abnormal but fuck. Fuck man. I wish I was allo I wish I was cis I wish I was neurotypical I wish I was fucking normal and didn’t have all these little fucking things that clump up into a giant mound of ridiculous weight that is just too much for another person to deal with

[blackleatherjacketz]

I See You

Loki x Mobius

Summary: Mobius tries his best to get over Loki... until he sends him a sign on Christmas.

Notes: This is my very angsty, very early contribution to @sarahscribbles and their Christmas Loki Fic event. It's how I'm dealing with the pain of the finale. Enjoy!

Read more Loki!

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The bright neon ‘Open’ sign flickers as Mobius sits down at the very first booth available, unbuttoning his suit jacket to get more comfortable in his seat. He gazes over the menu, glancing aimlessly over the words he’d seen dozens of times before in hundreds of different combinations, only none of them seem to make any sense to him at the moment. If he was being completely honest with himself, nothing had really made sense to him anymore; not after he left.

No amount of coffee he drank could sustain him. The food he ate lacked its usual flavor as the air felt flat and stale against his face, even if he was out on the water and the sun was still shining. He couldn’t sleep, yet he was always tired; too exhausted to wear his body out during the day to fall into a restful state at night. Instead he found himself staring at the ceiling with a bottle of whiskey in his hand as reruns of M.A.S.H. played in the background. That theme song seemed to be the only real form of comfort he was able to find until his body finally gave in, and his weeping eyes fell shut.

He could have kept his old life back at the TVA, but the pain of being there, of walking the same halls and touching the same surfaces without him at his side was just too much to bear. There was no way he could have stayed with all those memories haunting him like a ghost that everyone else saw and heard, but refused to address directly. He tried taking on other cases to distract himself, to get back into the practice of helping others, but he was of no use to them while his mind remained elsewhere.

He’d never felt more alone in his entire life.

He was stupid enough to think that he could fix this empty feeling by simply visiting some of Loki’s variants before he retired. He thought that if he at least saw his face or heard his voice again, it would be enough to place a cool balm over the gaping wound his sudden absence had carved into his soul. But not one of his variants knew who he was. None of them cared about him or found an excuse to touch him instead of admitting that they desired human contact, that they needed that closeness they were so deprived of as a child. None of them would fix his tie or grab hold of his arm just to bring him near, or even brush an eyelash off his cheek as those icy blues of theirs stared at him for just a little too long. None of them cared about anyone else besides themselves. None of them were ‘his Loki’.

Seeing their faces as they spoke down to others only made the pain that much worse, tugging at his insides as the man he came to know and love seemed to be even further away than before. So, he thought that a change of scenery might help, that if he let time pass in a completely different part of the world that he’d somehow be able to forget about him. About all of it, and eventually move on. But no matter where he went, no matter how hot or how cold, he always seemed to feel that nagging sense of longing, that inevitable… void inside him.

He always found himself wanting to tell ‘his Loki’ all about his new experiences, about the things that he saw or the people he met, to see what his reaction might be. He imagined that he’d raise his eyebrows at him in a sly, amused manner like he always used to, holding back his laughter with a tilt of his head. Or maybe he’d…

“Ready to order, sugar?” The waitress approaches him with her notepad, pulling him out of his thoughts and into the present as he remembers to look over the menu.

“I think I’m gonna need a minute,” he tells her, eyeing a faded picture of a club sandwich on the laminated piece of paper. “But I’ll start with a cup of coffee.”

“Sure thing.” She scribbles onto her notebook and leaves him to his thoughts.

It wasn’t fair. Any of it. How he’d run down those stairs so quickly without saying goodbye, that look in his eyes wet with sorrow as his lips pressed into a thin fine line. Sure, he’d saved everyone in the process, but what good was that if he had to go on living without him? What was the point of going out into the world if he had no one to share it with? It’s not like there were people here on earth he could openly talk to about his experiences, that there was anyone on any of the timelines who could possibly understand his plight.

Mobius stares at the empty seat across from him, wistfully imagining Loki’s tall, slender frame cramped into the squeaky old booth as he sighs in reluctant acceptance. He wonders, just for a second, what kind of coat he would have chosen to wear in the bitter cold of December as the snow falls down from the blackened sky. He fantasizes about how gorgeous his raven locks would’ve looked littered with the thousand different designs of snowflakes falling onto them, wondering if he’d brush them away or simply let them melt onto his skin. He wonders if he’d fall down if he took him skating at an ice rink, those long legs of his betraying him. He wonders how he’d feel about cozying up and watching a cheesy Christmas movie with a cup of hot cocoa.

DING DING!

Mobius turns in his seat as the diner’s door bell jingles, opening to a young man with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He’s about eighteen or twenty years old, brown hair with deeply saddened eyes as he looks around the nearly empty restaurant before sitting down awkwardly at the booth directly across from him. He can tell that the boy’s been crying, his insistent sniffling giving away the fact that his reddened nose and cheeks weren’t just from the frigid cold outside.

Why would a kid like that be alone, like him, on Christmas?

The waitress hands Mobius his coffee with a plate of cream and sugar on the side before walking up to the stranger, turning over her piece of paper for a new order. “What’ll ya have, sugar?”

Oh, I guess she calls everybody that.

The boy looks down at the menu, squinting a little to see through his saline soaked eyes before they seem to flash a shade of green. He smiles and looks up at her, confidently setting the menu down on the tabletop. “I’ll have a slice of key lime pie, oh and uh… one for him, too, please.” He points directly at Mobius with a mischievous grin.

What the shit?

The waitress nods and walks away.

“I’m sorry, did you just order me a slice of pie?” It hurt him too much to say the full name of the flavor out loud. Stupid, he knows, but he’ll get over it eventually.

The boy shakes his head as if to rid himself of the snowflakes that have landed on top of his head. “Huh?”

Mobius leans forward in his seat as his heart skips an expectant beat, pointing at him accusingly. “Did you just order me a slice of pie?” He repeats himself.

“Did I? Yeah, I guess I did.” He looks just as confused as he is, looking out at the dreary holiday weather before glancing back at him. “Look sir, I’m sorry. I can’t really explain it, but something told me to come to this diner tonight and order that specific thing.”

Something? What the hell was he talking about? It couldn’t be…

Mobius just stares at the young man, his mouth agape as the waitress sets down each of their slices in front of them. They’re almost identical to the ones he and Loki ate together at the TVA, right down to the very color and the candied lime on top as garnish. “What?”

The boy puts his hands up in defense, twisting his face with worry as if he expects to be met with anger and aggression.

Mobius knew that Loki was out here beyond time and space holding their universe together, that their lives were literally in his hands, but he didn’t know exactly how closely he was watching, or if he could actually see him at all. He didn’t know if he could interfere with even the smallest of events, but now he knows he’d be remiss to think otherwise. How else would this boy know to order that exact thing for him? How else would he know to come here to find him, all alone on Christmas night?

There’s no such thing as coincidence.

“Yeah,” is all Mobius can think to say, shaking his head in disbelief. “Thanks, kid.” He picks up his fork and digs into the bright green triangle.

“Sir? Can I sit with you?” The boy asks, quickly standing up with his plate and doing so anyway.

“Umm, yeah, sure, I, uh…” he stammers, half wanting to stay in the dark abyss of his memories instead of being present with this stranger who seems to be a little… wait a minute. Mobius recognizes him from his file at the TVA.

He was no stranger to the multiverse at all.

His grief had blinded him to the suffering of this child, this lonely wanderer who had just recently lost all of his friends and family, too. Mobius was so down about losing just one person, that he didn’t notice this kid who had no one else left. His name was Peter something, Peter… Parker, if he remembered correctly, the spider kid. Their stories weren’t the same by any means, but they were definitely in the same boat, both of them trying to stay afloat in worlds that no longer knew them.

“I see you,” he whispers to himself, hoping that Loki can hear him.

“Thanks, Mister…” the boy trails off before taking a bite, tilting his head in hopes of getting his name.

Mobius thinks of giving him the name of his alias, of keeping up the ruse he’d put on for the rest of the world, but decides that Peter could be the one person he tells his real name to. That he could at least give him that. It is Christmas, after all.

“I’m Mobius.” He states confidently, holding out his hand for him to shake.

“I’m…” he begrudgingly finishes his bite, trying not to make it too obvious that he doesn’t quite like the flavor.

“Peter.” He shakes his hand without thinking about what he just called him, the first genuine smile crossing his lips since he left the TVA. “I know.”

The boy’s eyes fill up with tears, his lips quivering as he tries his best to press them together, still holding onto Mobius’ hand in a redundant shaking motion. “You know me?”

Mobius nods in silence, holding back his own tears as he allows himself to hold space for this kid who has to be even more scared than he is. “Something like that.”

“But I don’t remember meeting you, Doctor Strange said that no one else could…”

“I know.” He whispers, wondering if this is Loki’s way of comforting him until he figures out how to come back; someone to help him get through the pain of it all, and vice versa. “It’s gonna be okay, kid. Let’s just say that we know a few of the same people.”

[cleverwordsandotherstuffilike]

"The day my father died, I was at the grocery store buying bananas. I remember thinking to myself, “This is insane. Your dad just died. Why the h*** are you buying bananas?” But we needed bananas. We’d be waking up for breakfast tomorrow morning, and there wouldn’t be any bananas—so there I was.

And lots of other stuff still needed doing too, so over the coming days I would navigate parking lots, wait in restaurant lines, and sit on park benches; pushing back tears, fighting to stay upright, and in general always being seconds from a total, blubbering, room-clearing freak out. I wanted to wear a sign that said: I JUST LOST MY DAD. PLEASE GO EASY.

Unless anyone passing by looked deeply into my bloodshot eyes or noticed the occasional break in my voice and thought enough to ask, it’s not like they’d have known what’s happening inside me or around me. They wouldn’t have had any idea of the gaping sinkhole that had just opened up and swallowed the normal life of the guy next to them in the produce section.

And while I didn’t want to physically wear my actual circumstances on my chest, it probably would have caused people around me to give me space or speak softer or move more carefully,—and it might have made the impossible, almost bearable. 

Everyone around you; the people you share the grocery store line with, pass in traffic, sit next to at work, encounter on social media, and see across the kitchen table—are all experiencing the collateral damage of living. They are all grieving someone, missing someone, worried about someone. Their marriages are crumbling or their mortgage payment is late or they’re waiting on their child’s test results, or they’re getting bananas five years after a death and still pushing back tears because the loss feels as real as it did that first day.

Every single human being you pass by today is fighting to find peace and to push back fear; to get through their daily tasks without breaking down in front of the bananas or in the carpool line or at the post office. Maybe they aren’t mourning the sudden, tragic passing of a parent, but wounded, exhausted, pain-ravaged people are everywhere, everyday stumbling all around us—and yet most of the time we’re fairly oblivious to them:

- Parents whose children are terminally ill.

- Couples in the middle of divorce.

- People grieving loss of loved ones and relationships.

- Kids being bullied at school.

- Teenagers who want to end their lives.

- People marking the anniversary of a death.

- Parents worried about their depressed teenager.

- Spouses whose partners are deployed in combat.

- Families with no idea how to keep the lights on.

- Single parents with little help and little sleep.

Everyone is grieving and worried and fearful, and yet none of them wear the signs, none of them have labels, and none of them come with written warnings reading, I’M STRUGGLING. GO EASY.

And since they don’t, it’s up to you and me to look more closely and more deeply at everyone around us: at work or at the gas station or in the produce section, and to never assume they aren’t all just hanging by a thread. Because most people are hanging by a thread—and our simple kindness can be that thread. We need to remind ourselves  just how hard the hidden stories around us might be, and to approach each person as a delicate, breakable, invaluable treasure—and to handle them with care. 

As you make your way through the world today, people won’t be wearing signs to announce their mourning or to alert you to the attrition or to broadcast how terrified they are—but if you look with the right eyes, you’ll see the signs. There are grieving people all around you. Go easy."

John Pavlovitz

[skyisrambling]

i get mean when im nervous (like a bad dog)

Miles looks into his own eyes and he looks back, a twisted joke.

There should be something tripping off his tongue. Questions, accusations, pleas for help, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that there is the empty, gaping maw of silence when there should be something filling it.

It feels like there should be some sort of shift, of the cosmic variety. Or maybe cellular, or spiritual or moral. After all, he is looking at what he could’ve been if things had gone slightly differently. 

It feels like he should be scared of what he has the potential to become. 

He isn’t.

There’s a cold, tired child looking at him and he looks back, cold and tired himself. 

His uncle, who he loved. His uncle, who he grieved. His uncle, who thought he was the best of all of them, watches. 

There is sand trickling down his shoulder from the hole his uncle blasted through the punching bag, just a few inches from his head. He’s sure that the little granules are getting caught in claw marks on his shoulder, sticky and wet with blood. 

The room is holding its breath. 

“My dad is dying,” he says. “I need to get home and save him.”

“Why should I care?” the boy responds in an accent so different from his own, in a voice just like his. 

Inhale. 

There's really no answer to that. It’s stunningly obvious why he should care. It’s stunningly obvious why he doesn’t. The mural on the wall looks like it’s been there a while, about as long as the exhaustion in his mothers gaze. 

The thing with grief is that it doesn’t end.

The thing with grief is that it's freezing as it makes its home inside of you, the winter chill sits heavy in your marrow and you become desperate for some sort of warmth. 

Miles found it in his parents, in the wind on his face, the gratitude of the people he helped, the memories of those he loved who left him. 

He wonders what this other version of himself found it in. He wonders if he’s found it at all.

Exhale. 

Try another angle. 

“There are people after me. Trust me, you don’t want them digging around in your dimension.”

“If they’re anything like you I think I can take them.”

“Can you take them and still hide what you’re doing from your mother?”

The quiet has a physical shape, Miles can almost see it- the way it coils and bares its teeth in an approximation of a smile, canines glinting. 

“I’m sure they’ll leave us alone when I give them your body.” 

A cold, cruel metal fist taps the bag, brushing against his cheek. 

Inhale. 

In another timeline he’s a murderer. In another universe he has blood on his hands and doesn’t seem bothered by the idea of adding more.  

The clock is ticking, ding dong his dad is almost dead. He doesn’t have time for this. 

His finger taps on the metal of the chains holding him, a spark of lightning arching off his skin. 

The body requires electricity to continue on- if Miles leans in close enough to someone he can almost taste the way their heart beats and the synapses of their brain fire in little bright bursts. 

It would be alarmingly easy for him to take it all away. 

It is alarmingly easy to harness his own.

He can pull in enough that it would kill anyone else and continue to walk. He can feel the storm lingering under his skin and he can command his heart to beat anyways.

Exhale. 

He meets his own eyes, a warped reflection stares back. 

He wonders what would’ve happened if the boy in front of him was the one bitten, if the electricity snapping in his veins like a pack of dogs would’ve been quietly muzzled and contained like his was, if his dad would still be alive in this dimension, safe.

He decides it doesn’t matter. 

It is him with lightning in his blood and under his nails. It is him with venom in his mouth. It is him with the quickly healing wounds. It is him with the desperate sort of recklessness blooming under his tongue.

He is going to win. 

The other Miles just doesn’t know it yet. 

---

He called himself a hero. Called is the key word here. 

A lot of people call themselves heroes. He’s met many of them. He’s been chased by many of them. He’s been told to let his father die by many of them. 

He thinks Hobie was right. To become a hero is to shed your human skin and take on a different shape, blood and bone and bruises- it leaves you achingly small and too big at the same time. You set your bones in your bedroom and you stand above the fallen and you are all violence and myth and hope given form. 

To be a hero is to be good. You sacrifice so much in the name of saving that you begin to equate the two. When they become synonyms you begin to expect others to do the same, to shoulder the grief amongst the other burdens. 

Here are the lives you could not save and here are the lives you must and here are the lives that will die for the greater good.

Miles looked up into Miguel’s eyes and knew for a fact that he thought he was the hero in this story. 

‘Learn from my mistakes,’ he said. ‘Some things are just meant to happen to us spiders.’

And then, of course, ‘You are not spider-man, you were never meant to be bitten. You are an anomaly to be eradicated or you will destroy everything.’

There is a flaw in that logic that Miguel is too broken to think about.

Miles could see it in the shadows under his eyes, the stiffness of his shoulders, the too steady way he spoke of the destruction of the dimension he stole. Miguel is a shattered man with the power of hundreds behind him, desperate to never lose again. 

‘With great power comes great responsibility’ is one side of the coin. ‘Absolute power corrupts absolutely’ is the other.

---

The Prowler is an excellent fighter, trained in ways that Miles is not. He dodges and kicks and punches Miles nearly into the ground.

He will lose regardless. 

Miles twists around a blow, back bending in a way that is near inhuman as he gathers himself. Low to the ground he is a live wire, just waiting for the brush of skin on skin. He isn’t the type of creature someone can touch without dying, sweating poison his blood bubbles and the whites of his eyes are just a bit too bright. 

There it is, a hand around his neck, squeezing the air from his lungs. 

He goes limp. 

There's hesitation there in the Prowlers’ eyes as Miles submits to the end with ease. He can feel it in the twitch of his fingers, in the way his grasp flexes like he’s debating easing up. 

But Miles doesn’t need mercy. He raises a hand, slowly, settling it on the Prowlers’ cheek and smiling with all his teeth. 

It is easy. Miles has the sun in his veins and smoking fingertips as he sends pure electricity pouring into the Prowlers’ skull with only a thought. 

In another universe, he has killed people. There’s something to say there about potential energy becoming kinetic- something to say about desperation and the way it will rewire the neurons of your brain. 

He won’t kill, but as he watches the Prowler seize below him he knows the physics of it, innate in a way that he shies away from.

[byuntrash101]

break up with him

reader x dom!jongho ft. yunho

smut | angst | nsfw | mdni

unrequited love, jealousy, cheating, spanking, oral (m), deepthroat, unprotected sex (not even the pull out method), degradation (slut, whore, sow), guilt, mean jongho is kinda mean but i luv it, bf!yunho cameo, getting caught kink, this one is kinda ansgty

requested | part of my 2023 prompt event [closed]

jongho is tired to be the bad guy. tired of acting like he doesn't care when you kiss him. tired of lying to his best friend. and he's ready to put everything on the line. he wants you for himself only.

[❛ you look like you were jealous. ❜ + ❛ say you want me, and i’m yours. ❜]

TUMBLR IS BASED ON REBLOGS. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK 🖤

Jongho didn't understand how he got there. 

How did he fall in love with one of his best friends' girl. But how could he not? Given the sinful things you both did in the private company of each other. How could he not when his name sounded so melodic hanging on your perfect lips, rolling off your hot tongue between moans and pants. How could he not fall for you ? Knowing that when Yunho will be sleeping tonight you'll come over to his room again. Do it all over again, stomp on his heart to protect your boyfriend's.

Because Yunho was the love of your life. Of that you were deeply convinced. It was love you felt when he held you in his arms and you rested your head on his broad chest. It was love you heard when he murmured sweet nothings in your ear. It was love when he made you smile. It was love when he made you laugh. It was love. True Love.

So why didn't you feel complete? Why was there something perpetually missing ? You tried so hard to find that thing in Yunho. But it was in vain. That something you couldn't name, you couldn't identify…

On one drunken night at the dorm you finally put your finger on it. Only you and Jongho were left. All the others were either blacked out drunk or just sleeping. Neither of you thought of anything beforehand. It wasn't planned, it all happened naturally. You were drawn to him, drawn to the missing puzzle piece that your boyfriend couldn't provide. That night was electrifying, that raw feeling of thrill, of excitement. That was the danger you've been missing. The risk, the edge. The sin.

That night was a slip up, a mistake you were both too drunk to think straight. It was unplanned and it should have stayed that way. But all the other nights that followed didn't really stick to the fortuity of the first one. The others were all prepared. And this one too.

Jongho couldn't handle it anymore. The secrecy, the way he had to act unbothered while you sat across from him in Yunho's lap. Your arms draped around his neck, your nose nuzzled against his cheek as he smiled so fondly at you. Two love birds completely oblivious of the world outside of their small lovey dovey bubble.

The rest of the group were used to the public display of affection and everyone was eating, drinking and chatting away, paying no mind to the gut stirring array of love… No one paid attention to the both of you except Jongho for whom the conversations around him felt like a distant whisper. Because he could only hear the screeching sound of his heart breaking. Pieces being broken up into tiny fragments, fragments grounded into dust until the wounded organ was unrecognizable even for its owner.

Jongho balled his fists under the table over both his knees, his nails dug into his palm but the muted pain was incomparable to the gaping agony he felt in his chest, threatening to swallow him whole. 

And nobody even picked up on it. Nobody knew about his anguish and he couldn't share his burden with anyone. He was the bad guy; fucking his best friend's girlfriend behind his back. Yunho was the main character and he was just the villain that everyone wanted to see defeated at the end of the movie. Nobody routed for him. Maybe not even himself. Somewhere deep inside he believed he didn't deserve sympathy.

This thought was unbearable and in a weird reflex Jongho shot up his chair, maybe in an attempt to distract his mind from the blackhole that was taking over in his chest. All eight heads whipped in his direction, confused faces looking back at him, searching for some kind of insight on the unexpected and sudden gesture.

"Something's wrong?" Yunho was the first one to ask.

Shut the fuck up.

That was what Jongho wanted to say but he bit the inside of his cheek to keep the heinous words behind his teeth. He hated that Yunho was such a good friend and he was the bad one. He hated him. He hated himself.

His eyes fluttered to you looking back at him just as confused as the other one.

But why couldn't he hate you?

Was this an act, were you that much of a good actress or didn't you really understand what was going on in his mind ? Were you oblivious to the feelings he developed for you? Either way it did nothing to soothe Jongho's chaotic mind.

"Jongho?" Seonghwa spoke up. And the older's reassuring voice brought Jongho back.

"Yes... I'm just kinda dizzy" he started, rubbing circles on his temples. "I think I should go for the night. I-I need to rest." and he stormed off to his room, escaping the confused and concerned gazes but also and primarily the source of his misery, you.

Silence fell over the once joyous table of friends as Jongho disappeared in the hall.

"You should go talk to him" Hongjoong interjected. All eyes followed his own, all turning to you.

"Me?"

"Yeah you guys are really close" San said, shrugging right beside you. You nearly choked on air at the remark while everybody nodded their heads in approval. Stress started to bubble in your guts as you cracked an awkward smile.

"Come on babe he obviously needs you" Yunho encouraged you, big large palms gently pushing you up, encouraging you to get off his lap.

What were you supposed to do? You had to go not to raise suspicion. You dragged your feet made heavy with the weight of guilt to the hall. Heart swelling with remorse as your unsuspecting and caring boyfriend gave you an approbating nod.

"Take good care of our maknae" you heard Mingi shout as you closed back the door.

Somehow the hall felt chilly, and you didn't even bother turning on the light as you velvet threaded to Jongho's room. You walked that path at night a thousand times before.

You knocked on the door but didn't wait for an answer before pushing the door and inviting yourself in. It almost felt weird to not lock the door behind you. Because this time your visit had a different purpose and somehow it felt even more immoral than usual. Maybe because this time Yunho himself sent you here. Right in the wolf's dent.

Jongho was sitting at his desk, his back facing you while he was browsing on his computer. You didn't need to see his face to know he wasn't well. It was written all over the walls, it was in the heavy air, soaked with humid tension.

"Jongho are you okay?" you asked, genuinely concerned. Jongho was first your friend.

The soft and caring tone drove a dagger through his heart. He couldn't handle lying to himself and to you right now. He couldn't handle being close to you right now.

"Yeah I'm okay I think I'm just getting sick maybe" he answered back, perfectly mastering the unwavering and monocorde tone. Being careful to not let his body language betray him.

You bit your lips. You knew it was a lie but part of you wanted to accept his response and turn on your heels. Part of you didn't want to deal with what you had created. But it was your responsibility and you owed at least that much to Jongho.

"You look like you were...jealous" the heavy word seemed to fall from your lips on to crash at your feet in an impossible blare making your ears ring and your heart pound.

Silence fell again. And the brief moment seemed to have transformed into a century.

Then Jongho spinned in his chair to face you finally. You didn't have time to scan his face before he spoke.

"Break up with him"

Jongho looks up at you, eyebrows furrowed, lips pinched into a pained pout. Merely looking at him breaks your heart and you can't help guilt sneak up on you again, crawling under your skin, making you squirm in discomfort.

You opened your mouth to speak but Jongho seemed like he picked up on the excuse you were about to mindlessly throw his way to get out of this situation and he interrupted you. He stood and walked to you to face you. So he could see you, so there would be no doubt left, no space for interpretation between your two bodies.

"Say you want me and I'm yours"

This was Jongho's last chance. He was putting everything on the line, presenting his damaged heart to you. It was in your hands and your hands alone. Offering you the wounded and pathetic organ. Yet it was everything he had left. 

It was up to you to either pick up the broken pieces and nurture them back into a beating and loving heart or stomp over it one last time and finally put him out of his misery. Squishing the last drops of blood out of the atrophied muscle until it laid there immobile and cold.

You didn't know what to say. Nothing you could say could ever make it right. Not even if you had an eternity to think about the words you were going to use. An eternity to weigh in every little variation in the semantics, every single nuance of the chosen terminology. Nothing could fix the damage you had done.

But you didn't have an eternity. You only had a few seconds and you used them all up being sorry and silent.

Stomping it was then…

And just like that Jongho had his answer.

Your heart crinkled into a small ball when you saw him hang his head in defeat.

You couldn't offer a comforting word but you could still offer a comforting touch. You lifted your hand to the crown of his head hoping to maybe gently pat it. Like you have done a thousand times. Usually, that always made him smile. But you didn't have time to reach him. He caught your wrist in a strong grip. You hissed at the sudden pain. With a quick jerk of your arm he pulled you into his chest.

"Since you didn't come to speak maybe you came to fuck?" his voice was as cold as ever. A tone you never heard from him even in the deepest and darkest of nights when you were to see a version of him that nobody knew. This time the coldness was unmatched. The biting tone didn't come from pent up lust. It came from anger.

And you hated yourself for the way your body reacted to it. Reacted to his low voice, to his strong grip, to the burning eyes. To him. Nobody could talk to your body, to your primal instincts like Jongho.

"Jongho" you whimpered in a mere whisper. Trying to conceal the bubbling arousal in your gut by pushing your thighs together.

Jongho crashed his lips on yours to silence you. Without giving you a choice he pulled you into the sinful act. Drowning you into his embrace, dragging you into the abyss along with him. You felt his hand creep up on the side of your face before his thumb pried your jaw open, tongue lapping at your own as his other hand slipped from your wrist up your forearm to your nape. Bending your neck right into position, making your face look up so he could explore you deeper and gouge out every single one of your secrets.

You lost track of time and space as he made you drunk on his minty taste and strong musky cedar wood cologne. You moaned into his mouth while his warm palm was pushing you deeper into him.

"Touch me" he commanded and you immediately lifted a febrile hand to his groin. You gasped when your fingertips grazed the hard member. Somehow, even after a thousand times, you still managed to be suprised by the girth and length of it. But above all it was incredibly hard. Harder than it ever was with just a simple kiss.

You started to palm him through his black trousers which he responded with a hum of satisfaction. Catching your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling on it until it snapped back against your teeth.

"On your knees. Now"

You dropped to the floor before you could even think about it. Your mind being completely bent to Jongho's desire. His hand left your nape to untangle with your hair and you felt goosebumps rise from your heated skin as the cold air hit your neck.

"Help me with this, whore"

The term of endearment made your guts gush with arousal. Your feeble hands unbuckled his belt, the cold metal contrasting with your hot skin. You unzipped his trousers and hurriedly pulled them down along with his underwear. The lively length sprung in front of your face, making your eyes round up in need and your mouth water with anticipation.

"What are you waiting for?" Jongho spat your way, the unwavering biting tone making you flinch and bite your lip. "Do what you came for. Do what you do best" He growled as he pulled you by the hair, bringing your trembling lips right to his tip, precum forcing its way on your tongue making you yearn for more of his alluring taste.

You let your mouth be guided on his length, opening your wet hole and letting Jongho control you like a puppet until the tip of your tongue reached his balls and your nose his pubic bone. He stayed just like that for a few seconds as your eyes prickled with tears. His girthy member occupying your mouth as it was his birthright. Making a home out of the narrow and wet cavern.

Jongho grunted as he slowly pulled your head back. Thick strings of spit still linking your swollen lips to the angry twitching member.

"That's all you're good for, right?" he moaned as you nodded your head. Jongho couldn't tell if you were just bobbing your head on his length or if you were answering him but he didn't care. He was done listening to you.

"That’s right take my cock" he grunted, pushing his hips forward as your knees scraped on the wooden floor. "You think he knows?" Jongho smirked when he picked up on the small soubresaut of your body.

"You think that's what he had in mind when he sent you to comfort me?"

Your guts slushed around swimming in the guilt you were desperately trying to forget.

"You think he thought it meant for you to let me fuck your throat like that, huh?" He gave you one powerful thrust. 

Jongho grew angrier as he took your head in both of his hands, strong grasp keeping you in place as he smashed himself inside, his length stretching your throat to breaking point. The burn made your head dizzy as you struggled for air and big tears trailed down your burning cheeks.

"I'll have to say thank you to hyung. Sending over his precious girl for me to use like this." He then popped his length out your mouth while you were already missing him brushing the back of your throat. With one coercive pull he brought you back up on your feet.

"Strip" he commanded while maintaining the grip around your hair. You awkwardly struggled to open your blouse letting it float to your sides and wiggle out of your pants. Without thinking Jongho tore away your bra and panties off your bodies as you whimpered in shock, leaving you exposed to his gaze.

He harshly cupped your breast squeezing the lumps of flesh as you mewled under his touch. Briefly pulling on your hardened nipple before flipping you and pushing you against the door. Your upper half pressed against the cold wood while your ass hung up in the air. Jongho tapped on your feet with his heels and you immediately spread your legs.

"Good little whore. Ass up" he commanded and you perched yourself on your tippy toes.

Jongho took the base of his length and hissed when his tip made contact with your heat.

"Jongho" you whined. "Do you have a condom?" you asked, wiggling your ass up in the air only to be hit by a large palm clashing against the thin skin of your unclothed bottom. You whimpered at the burning sting biting your lip to refrain to ask for another one.

"Shut up. Sows like you are fucked raw"

Your breath hitched in your throat to the thought of Jongho's length digging deep inside you raw, taking over like it was its righteous place. A privilege once only reserved to your beloved boyfriend.

He ribbed small circles on your clit as you arched your back. You couldn't believe how sensitive you had become without being touched.

"Isn't that what you wanted, little slut?" he asked, bending over you his warm clothed body warming your back. You nodded as you squirmed again, yearning for the relieving friction.

The daring gesture only earned you another harsh slap.

"Speak whore"

"Y-yes. Please please Jongho please"

You were pathetic barely making any sense, your mind barely able to form coherent words. Fucked out before it even started.

You could have died from pure bliss when Jongho finally slid inside you. He parted you so deliciously, with every inch that he shoved inside you you were becoming more and more breathless. Catching your bottom lips between your teeth hissing all the way until he bottomed out.

"Ahhh Jongho please. Fuck me. Please please" you begged without restrain shame not even crossing your mind.

And Jongho didn't ask for more. Immediately he aimed for the stars and threw his hips into yours making the squelching wet sounds of your dripping pussy bounce off the walls of the small dimlitted room.

The angle, the rhythm, the depth. Everything was perfect. He was fucking you exactly like you needed to be. Each stroke bringing you closer to completion, each thrust turning your mind into an amalgame of lustful and unholy thoughts until you were ready to give out.

Knock knock knock

"Are you ok in there?"

It was Yunho.

You both freezed for a second. But you were the first one to catch up.

"Yeah don't worry baby. I think Jongho feels better now." You stated in the most neutral and steady voice you could manage, glancing over at Jongho over your shoulder.

"Yeah hyung. Don't worry I'll be fine"

Your heart was pounding in your chest and resonating in your ears. As your feet barely held you anymore, your pussy pulsing around Jongho's large cock. So close to completion that you might just cum from imagining your boyfriend standing right outside unsuspecting of how good his friend was fucking you.

"Okay don't take too long you two" Yunho said before you heard his footsteps fade away in the hall.

You both took a deep breath but before you could think again Jongho was back smashing himself into you this time with even more force.

"Does he fuck you like this?" he growled. The sinful sounds of skin clashing against skin.

"Noooo nobody can fuck me like you do Jongho" you whined as you felt your center growing tighter and tighter. He spanked you again, making you jerk on his length.

"Say how much bigger my cock is"

"You have the biggest and the best fucking cock Jongho please don't stop."

Jongho grunted and you felt him twitch inside you. You both approaching your high, flirting with the edge.

"Say it again"

"I love your cock. I want only your cock. Yunho can never fuck me like you do." you whined as your legs began to shake, threatening to give out at any second.

"Fuck baby." Jongho panted. "Fuckkkk y/n" his thrusts started to become sloppy, the rhythm falling short, strokes becoming more and more shallow.

"Jongho I'm cumming" you announced as you finally grasped your climax, the wave of pleasure crushing your body into a million of incandescent pieces, taking over your mind you couldn't think of anything other than him, getting drunk off his moans and grunts as he perfectly smashed against your sweet spot, cutting your breath and making big tears of bliss roll on your cheeks.

"Fuck y/n. I love you" he let the words roll off his tongue as he finally came undone. 'I love you. I love you. I love you" he kept on chanting, painting your unguarded walls a brand new shade of white. Thick ropes of burning cum making you quiver around him, milking him to the last drop until his groans died down in hushed short breaths, beads of sweat running down his temples and pearling on his lip.

When he slipped out of you guilt crept under your skin again while you looked back at the younger man through your lashes.

You wanted to say those words back to him. But there was only one man you loved.

a/n: this one was a angsty one. i hope you enjoyed it. if you did please tell me in the comments or drop by my asks. i love your feedback guys <3

[sukirichi]

home from war | sukuna x reader

Home from War | sukuna x reader

featuring: sukuna x reader (historical au) with small moments of megumi x reader

warnings: very mild suggestive content, mentions of manslaughter and slight yandere tendencies + a toxic sukuna + angst + not proofread :D

part two!

How does one soothe their lover who’s come from war?

You ponder about this carefully, eyes dark as you let your gaze travel from the opening door. Sukuna comes in, bare chest littered with cuts caked in mud, blood, and dirt, and you see the way the grip around his katana falters just a little bit. The room is dark – it is late at night, after all, and you had stirred awake in your accidental slumber from waiting too long for him to return home – but you see him under the darkness clearly. Way too clearly.

Those markings on his face you so dearly love don’t even seem threatening. You seriously question your sanity at this point because he is the Ryomen Sukuna; King of Curses. It’s no secret that he does as he pleases, taking someone’s life as if it was second nature to him, claiming territories, wealth, and even people as if they were his own.

You should be scared, and in a way, you are.

But not in that way.

You’re scared because his shoulders slump, those once burning red eyes fluttering close as he drops to his knees on the floor. Without wasting another second, you leap off the bed, your arms wrapping around his figure. He reeks of death, and before you know it, you wash his exhaustion away by peppering his face with the pads of your lips.

Sukuna hums, pulling you closer to him until there is no space between skin, his neck nuzzling in your face. “I’m home,” his lips brush the bare skin of your neck, his breath warm and ticklish. “I made it home to you, my love. Safely like you asked.”

Your heart clenches at his words. Immediately, you bite down your tongue and blink back the tears that threaten to fall. Safely? You want to snap back, your nails almost raking down his back. This is hardly considered “safely” when his knees wobble as you guide him inside the bath, nearly unable to keep his eyes open as you wipe away his cuts and the other remnants of war present on his body.

“I’m sorry,” his voice echoes in the confined walls. You don’t even realize the tears had fallen until his rough, calloused hands brush a tear away. He tilts your chin upwards to look him in the eye, lips trembling when those devilish eyes soften – reserved for you and only for you – and Sukuna sighs through his nose. “I wish I could stop the war, but — ”

“It’s not possible,” you finish for him, forcing a smile to help ease his worries. At this point, you’re conflicted between wanting to scold him to not leave the temple anymore and just stay with you, but you also know why Sukuna doesn’t do that.

It’s because he wants to keep you safe. As long as you were around, Sukuna would go the moon and back just to keep coming back home to you. Perhaps that was the most painful part – the fact that you knew he wouldn’t have done this if he hadn’t met you. Sukuna was the fearsome King of Curses, powerful and undefeated even after a thousand years, but he wasn’t omnipotent. Hundreds of jujutsu sorcerers have lost their lives trying to defeat them, and it took about a hundred more deaths before they backed off at the realization he couldn’t be defeated or exorcised.

Until you came.

You were Sukuna’s weakness, the chink in his armour, his Achilles heel.

The moment it was known that Sukuna kept a lover, they just kept coming. The war begun.  Soon enough, your days of rolling around in bed with him, trapped under his arms and weekends spent in whines of each other’s names disappeared.

Sukuna has a temple to defend. A lover to protect. A woman to cherish. A soul to treasure.

It was all because of you, and you know better than anyone else that he was tired. But he’d never tell you that. He would still scoop you in his arms; pull you closer by the hip so he could lay his ears on your chest, eventually falling asleep with the sensation of your fingers massaging his scalp while you hum to soothe him. The sound of your heartbeat has Sukuna exhaling rhythmically minutes later.

The notorious King of Curses, bundled up in the arms of his lover, completely relaxes in the privacy of his shared bedroom with the woman he loves most. It was as if the war didn’t happen at all. He sleeps with a small smile on his face, sleepily mumbling your name and reaching up to kiss your smooth skin every now and then.

It was perfect. It was heaven.

But that wasn’t you.

Because you are not her; you are not even human. You listen to all this on the other side of the temple. If you were anyone else, someone like her, then Sukuna’s intimate moments with his lover would be private – something that would be kept and cherished only between the two of them. But you aren’t human.

You are a curse born from people’s heartbreak and grief. You don’t even remember how you came to life; your first memory hazy of nothing but endless pain and so much anger you lost yourself. Until he came.

Ryomen Sukuna; the King of Curses – he adored you.

Finally, he met his equal. A curse equally as powerful and blinded by darkness, hatred, and bloodlust – you were one of the rare curses whose presence he enjoyed, and it didn’t take long before he invited you to his temple and offered a seat next to him.

You are Ryomen Sukuna’s right hand warrior, his greatest partner when it comes to battle. If he was powerful before, people feared you both even more when you joined powers. He didn’t go to war without you. For days on end, you and Sukuna would traverse villages and slaughter kingdoms to fill the emptiness gaping in your hearts, but he changed when he met her.

That fragile, meak, little human that loved him and changed him.

Because of her, even you are forced to join this war against jujutsu sorcerers. It’s been a long war – consisting of ten days and waning red moons. You and Sukuna barely came out unscathed this time, the Gojo clan seems to have something else under their sleeves, and your yukata had been ripped open in pieces while blood washed over your body like water.

You and Sukuna came back tired, weak, almost defeated.

You lay your back flat against the wall, teeth attacking your bottom lip while you pour potions over your cuts. At the other side of the temple, Sukuna is already fast asleep, safe in the arms of his lover. And you? You couldn’t even let out a small noise of whimper. Sukuna’s heightened senses would pick up on it, mistake that it would be his precious little woman in his sleepy daze, and you don’t want him to be further agitated.

Besides, once he realizes that it was just you, he would only go back to sleep.

Because he knew you didn’t need him, not in that way. You were the Curse born from Heartbreak, possibly the only ever person who would know pain and suffering the same way he did, but that isn’t true. Sukuna wouldn’t understand that this is your suffering – to have him within grasp but out of reach, to know that he was always with you, that he loves you just the same, but not in the way you want him to, not in the way you need him to.

To him, you are his beloved friend and partner in crime.

You are not the one who soothes him when he comes from war. You are not the one that gets to feel his harsh tongue soften at the first contact of your lips, to have the privilege of having rough hands that easily tortured others to be gentle as he dips his hands in the dips and curves of your body. You are not the one who gets to see him when he wakes up and he smiles half-lidded. You are not the one who gets to kiss his pain and wounds away, to wipe his tears from his cheeks because looking at you makes him wonder how lucky he is to have you.

Instead, you are the one he brings to war with. You are the one he trusts to keep her safe, to watch his back and guard all possible blind spots during war. You are the one who jumps in front of him when a blast of fire is on his way, and you are the one who heals his wounds in the battlefield when he grows too weak. You are the one he laughs with when you’ve both decapitated the enemy, growing only stronger with each passing day under the belief maybe both of you could rule the world someday.

But does any of it matter?

You always believed that you were okay with it, that having him trust you with his whole life, enough to have you sleeping under the same roof as him, was everything you needed. But after she came, you watched him fall in love, and you felt pathetic.

You could never have him.

You could never have what they have.

Sometimes you wonder, what if you just said it? In those nights where nothing but the moonlight illuminated both of your blood-stained faces, chests rising up and down as it both rumbled with laughter, discarded glasses of alcohol thrown on the ground – it would’ve been the perfect moment, wouldn’t it?

Though deep down, you knew the answer.

Sukuna wouldn’t love you, couldn’t love you. He wanted someone to protect, not someone to fight wars with. He wanted someone to come home to, not someone he wrecked homes with. He wanted to listen to someone’s dreams and passions – all of the things you didn’t have because you were born out of pain, living in pain, and Sukuna was the only thing that soothed you for a bit.

Your breaths came out raspy as your wounds began to close up. The stench of blood remained on your body, the red liquid drying up.

Sukuna wouldn’t want an impure woman like you. It makes sense he loved her. She was as bright as the sky while you were as dark as day, and when she laughed, she lit up the whole room. You don’t laugh, you don’t even smile. The only times you ever got to feel that sort of happiness was when you were still a fresh-born curse, a wild Sukuna more than glad to teach you of his ways.

It’s okay, you lie to yourself, crawling back to your bed while ridding yourself of your clothes. You would shower later; sleep needed to come first. Curses like you don’t really need, but you were too exhausted – inside and outside – that for once, you want to submit to healing.

As you close your eyes, you hear Sukuna stir in their room again. The sounds of faint lip-locking echo in your ears, making you slap your palms on the sides of your head, but you hear it, you hear it, you hear it, you hear it.

“How is Y/N?” she asks worriedly, her dainty, small, and innocent fingers that could never harm a fly brushing against his skin. Warm.

“She’s fine,” Sukuna rasps tiredly, “She’s a little beaten up, but she’s in a better state than I am,” you hear him kiss her on the forehead, a contended sigh leaving her lips. “She’ll be fine, my love. You know Y/N. She is fierce, brave, and courageous. This war is nothing to her.”

“I still feel bad she joined the war just so both of you could protect me.”

Shut up, shut up, shut up!

“She knows I love you,” Sukuna mumbles on top of her head, his hands tracing patterns on her back. Tears flowed out your eyes, your body trembling as you bit your fist, drool flowing down. You couldn’t stop the way you felt your heart torn to pieces. Really, it shouldn’t be anything new to you. You are a curse manifested from heartbreak, after all, but why did it hurt so much this time? “Y/N is a long time friend and ally of mine. She cherishes everything I cherish.”

“But still...aren’t you going to check up on her? I couldn’t even welcome her back. I haven’t seen you both in days and I...”

“Shhh,” Sukuna lulls her worries. “I’ll check up on her right now, although I don’t think she needs it. She’s a strong warrior, after all.”

“Sukuna,” her voice was laced with warning this time, but it later softens, as it always does. “Even the strongest have their weak moments, like how you are with me. Just because someone is capable of enduring the pain, doesn’t mean they won’t appreciate an act of kindness. Y/N has been loyal to you far longer than I have, but you really need to show your gratitude more to her,” she sighs, “Go check on her, my love. See if she’s doing well. If she’s fully recovered by tomorrow, I’ll head out to the market and prepare you both a lovely meal. It’s the least I could do.”

Sukuna chuckles, “My love, we don’t need to eat.”

“No matter. She likes miso soup, doesn’t she?”

By now, you’re frozen in bed. The blood and dirt and your skin have stained your sheets, and your hair is knotted in tangles from endless fighting. Maybe this is the reason why you hated yourself more than you hate her – because deep down, she isn’t really someone you could hate.

It makes sense Sukuna loves her.

Unlike you, she is kind, caring, gentle and full of love. What did you have? Pent up anger, bloodlust, temperamental tendencies and a hobby of withdrawing as a form of isolation because you couldn’t cope with the heartbreak – this is your gift. Your curse.

She is a blessing.

You hear the bed dip feet away, and whispers of, “Be safe, I’ll wait for you,” before a door slides close. Sukuna’s footsteps pad nearer in your hallway, in a place that he had his servants build just for you years ago when you proved your loyalty to him. Back then, you were over the moon when you saw him telling his people he wanted you to have your own room, but now it was like a huge slap on your face that Sukuna cared for you, but he didn’t want you close to him in the way she was.

Your room was on the other side of the temple, at the back, to be specific. While she stays with him in his own chambers, he used his magic to build her a beautiful garden filled with her favourite flowers, while you were somewhat locked away behind it all.

A bitter smile makes it way to your face. Sukuna was coming, not because he wanted to, but because she asked him to.

You want to laugh. Instead, you run out the room in such speed that the sheets fly away from your bed, and the floorboards crack under the force of your movements. When Sukuna raps his knuckles on your door, asks if he could come in (as if he needed permission for that), and you don’t answer, he takes it upon himself to intrude.

He isn’t surprised at your discarded clothes, or how your room remains dark and empty, as if you’d never been there at all. This isn’t the first time you ran away, and this would not be the first time he ran after you either.

He knows you’ll come home.

After all, it was him you kept coming back to – although he didn’t know that.

Breakfast the next day wasn’t any better. She invited you to join them, fretting over the cuts on your cheeks and dabbing at them with a wet towel. She feels like a doting mother who wouldn’t stop worrying about her child who tripped, and again, you realize why he loves her.

The food was good. Like she promised, miso soup is placed in a bowl you painted years ago, and she beams at you expectantly while Sukuna caressed her thighs under the table. Your lips tremble as you take a spoonful of it, letting the warm soup soothe your exhausted body with a sigh. Sukuna peers at you in the same curiosity, head tilted to the side ever so slightly as if waiting how you’ll react.

It’s no secret you don’t open yourself up to anyone other than him. The moment she came to live with you both, he could tell you locked yourself up in your room and even disappeared for weeks under the lie that you were parading in the districts to “look for some fun.”

Sukuna knows you better than you know yourself. He knows it’s a lie, that you’re not someone who “looks for fun” and that you probably just stayed up in the mountains watching the sunrise. He knows you’re uncomfortable with her displays of affection, of how she easily adored you or how she cared for you like you were her sister or even a friend, but he doesn’t say anything about it.

If anything, he only hopes you would treat her the same way.

You don’t finish your bowl. It’s extremely difficult to enjoy the food when Sukuna compliments her on her cooking skills and she turns beet red beside him, nervously giggling that she just wanted to make you feel better. Sukuna bends down to steal a peck from her lips, teasing her that she was his “sweet angel” who had a heart of gold.

They don’t even eat.

They’re just giggling, laughing, kissing, and you understand – you really do. It isn’t every day that Sukuna gets to indulge in the presence of his beloved. But only you are there with him. It’s either he trusts you enough to let his guard down, or you’re unimportant enough that he doesn’t care if you see him completely baby her and spoil her rotten with how he grabs her onto his lap and starts kissing her nose and then her eyelids.

Their cheerful laughter is a great contrast to the sound of your heart shattering into pieces. They don’t notice that you’ve excused yourself, heading out the room and into the back part of the house, passing the servants on the way.

Similar to how they treat Sukuna, they quiver and bow before you, making sure to keep their eyes on the floor in fear you’d slice their heads off. You fight back a sigh. You wouldn’t do that – not when they welcomed you so warmly (or rather, fearfully) and accepted you as their master. You realize that they don’t act this way around Sukuna’s lover. In fact, they light up when she’s around and talk to her freely; everyone was just comfortable in her presence.

You know you’re not her.

You could never be her.

She was a human, and you’re nothing but a lonely, heartbroken curse.

Hours pass by, and no one looks for you. You dare not enter the garden Sukuna made for her even if you also like the flowers, simply because you don’t want Sukuna to be appalled at the thought that someone like you – a Curse who’d killed people and tortured others – would also be enamoured with something as innocent as daisies.

The lake is peaceful that night. It’s painful to bathe back at the temple because the servants won’t leave you alone. They insist on washing your body for you and that you should lay back, but you refuse to be coddled. The lake is on the other side of the mountain, deep in the forest with smaller curses lurking, so no one would find you here.

The moon shines down bright on you, and for the first time since you’d gotten home, you smile.

It looks so beautiful. So big and bright, yet so haunting and peaceful with secrets you could never uncover. You stare at it as you take off your robes layer by layer, feet dipping into the cold water before submerging completely. The ripples on the lake illuminated by the moonlight makes it even more soul-stirring.

You cup the water and wash your hair, finally getting rid of the invisible stains from the war. You felt clean, refreshed – but your heart still rumbled with hatred and darkness. Hatred that you couldn’t be good enough, hatred that you’re destined to be lonely and unloved.

One of the good things about bathing at midnight is that no one gets to see your tears when it mixes in with the water, and you throw your head back in laughter with your arms extended to the sky. This is who you are – a Curse with no future and no past.

Later, you choke as a sob begins, your fist clenching above your heart. It hurt everywhere.

You wanted Sukuna – so much that you felt like you were going to go insane.

If it wasn’t for him, you’d be trapped in an endless nightmare. But he saved you, cared for you, made you his equal. So why couldn’t he love you? You’ve always been there for him. When people turned against him or plotted a rebellion, you were the one who snuck into clan houses and slit their throats, making their descendants and followers witness the consequence of disrespecting Sukuna.

When he was nearly exorcised by an overpowered jujutsu sorcerer, you summoned an army of thousand lost souls to defeat them, nearly ending up with you losing your head in the aftermath. It was always you – you were always there from him since the beginning, so why didn’t he love you?

You cupped your eyes with your palms, unable to stop the tears from coming now. Your whole body shook with sobs, turning number and number at the cold water. Nothing mattered, nothing mattered, nothing did if you couldn’t have Sukuna.

“Sukuna,” you cried out, pushing your hair back as the ripples blurred in your tear-stained view. “Sukuna, help me, please...” Put an end to my suffering, you inwardly begged. Death is a better option than watching him fall deeper and deeper for her, knowing that could never be you. He’d never look at you that way. He’d never touch you that way. He would never be your lover, and your sobs grew more desperate because you know you are his lover.

God, you loved him so much more than you hated yourself.

This sort of madness had you gasping for air. Death – death is a better option. It is a much more peaceful way to go than to suffer each waking day to have what you want be explicitly stated to be reserved for anyone else but you.

You froze when a pair of arms encircled your waist, his grip strong and vice-like. He turned you around, his large hand coming at the small of your neck to bring you down to his shoulder where you could hide your tears. Until now, he knows you better than you know yourself, and he knows it would shatter you even more if he saw you crying.

“Y/N,” Sukuna begins, and your eyes widen when you see he’s still wearing his robe. He must’ve jumped in the water. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What’s wrong?”

Your lips turned blue from the cold. Unable to help the shiver that ran down your spine, your teeth chattered, and Sukuna pulled you closer to the heat of his skin. He sighed worriedly. “You need to tell me what’s wrong, otherwise, I can’t help you.”

“I” You falter. Your heart drums loudly in your chest. He would reject you, break your heart into pieces all over again but – so what if he did? It almost made you laugh. You’re the Curse of Heartbroken Souls. It wouldn’t make a difference if he hurt you now. Instantly, you weaken in his hold, and Sukuna’s hands grip your waist to keep you upright.

“Fuck, Y/N, what’s wrong —”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me,” you repeat, more confidently this time. You pull away from him in the slightest bit, eyes blown wide as you peer up at his appalled ones. His hands squeeze your waist subconsciously, his sharp nails piercing through your skin until it draws blood. It makes you gasp a little, but you’re used to the pain. Right now, you want to be selfish and free yourself from this pain. “I want you to kiss me, Sukuna.”

His eyebrows pinch together. “What the fuck are you saying? I love someone else, you know I won’t —”

“Won’t do what?” You challenge, eyes burning from the intensity and ferocity of each nerve humming to life. “This isn’t who you are, Sukuna. You’re the King of Curses. Or have you already forgotten those days you would accept those female offerings and you’d fuck them until they’re out of their mind, then discard them as if they were nothing but dirty laundry? You were strong back then, majestic, but now you’re fucking weak,” You spat out. You know you’re spurning him on and pushing all his buttons, but somehow saying those words gave you great relief.

Now, it was time to see his patience snap, which shouldn’t take long since his grip had turned bruising on your hips, and he growled under his breath. “Don’t do this, Y/N.”

“You’re the one who shouldn’t do this,” you growl back, “You haven’t been the same ever since that pathetic excuse of a woman came. Don’t you remember that she left her husband and children just because she was a whore for you? Because you pleased her better than her human spouse?” You push him away with enough force that it sends him a few feet back, and Sukuna scowls. “She doesn’t love you! She only stays by your side because she was nothing but a filthy rat before and now you treat her like a queen! She’s nothing but a lowly human who —”

“Enough!”

“ —made you believe you’re someone she could love! Don’t you get it, Sukuna? We’re Curses, she’s a human! She will never understand us! You’re lying to yourself if you believe she doesn’t cry herself to sleep at the thought she’s next to a monster —”

“I said, that’s enough!” In a flash, Sukuna was in front of you, clawed hands wrapped around your neck. It would be so easy for him to break you and kill you right then and there, your feet already above ground and your exposed breasts just within his sight. Nevertheless, you only laugh cruelly at his agitation. “You know nothing,” he squeezed your neck tighter, “about what it’s like to love someone. How dare you say that she does not love me?”

“I know, because if you let me, I could love you a lot more,” you choked out, clawing at his arm, but he is unfazed by your efforts.

Sukuna lets go of you. You drop in the water as you gasp and breathe for air, but Sukuna’s wide eyes bring you back to reality. It’s that face, the one that tells you he’s been unaware this whole time, and the sudden confession drops on him like a cannonball.

Like a switch has been flipped off, you revert back to your normal self. Using your arms to shield your body, you run away from him, about to make it to the bank when his voice stops you. “Do you truly mean it? Do you love me?”

You close your eyes. “Yes. I always have.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You wouldn’t have believed me,” you pull your hair to the side, squeezing the water out. “You barely believe me now, so why believe me if I said it earlier? It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Then why were you calling for me? I heard you crying. You said you wanted me to help you.”

You whip around, tears furiously flowing down. “I’m going to the jujutsu sorcerers myself tomorrow and let them exorcise me. There’s no point to my existence, Sukuna. I’m tired of all the wars. I’m tired of fighting for someone I don’t even care about. I’m tired of loving you and watching you look at her instead of me, when I’m the one who’s always been there for you. I’m tired of —” you hiccup, embarrassed that he was now watching you break down in front of him. You were a powerful curse, dammit, you shouldn’t even be crying about this. “—I’m tired of not being the one you love.”

Sukuna stands there gaping. You don’t give him another chance to speak as you walk away, seemingly a new habit of yours now. You haven’t always been this way. Patience was never one of your strongest points, but being around Sukuna for the past years taught you a thing or two. That all shatters now that you’ve grown tired, the shame of patheticness crawling between your legs as you retrieve your robes, not bothering to dry up.

He exhales through his nose, claws balled into a fist to restrain his anger. Now he wants to be gentle with you the way he is with her?

Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic – you keep chanting to yourself. You’re not there yet, but there have already been rumours that you’re the Queen of Curses, the only one who ever managed to be Sukuna’s equal. Although men feared you, they also lusted after you.

How could they not? You were a sexual prowess, and a fearsome figure in the battlefield. Men are confused whether they want to be with you, or if the mere utter of your name had them fainting. Sukuna, on the other hand? He didn’t care. He didn’t notice you. You’re nothing but a war tool to him, his friend and companion during his dark days when he grew bored and would randomly slaughter homes and enslave people.

He’s not the same anymore. The Sukuna you once knew was gone, and you turned back away from him bitterly, the blue flames licking up your skin as a symbol of anger, hatred, but most of all, humiliation.

That night, you didn’t go back to the temple.

And a small, quiet village who’d been loyal to both you and Sukuna had become the victims of your frustration.

The next day, silence echoes in the hallways of the temple. You couldn’t hear even the soft breathings or whispers of the servants. Your ears perk up once you cross the threshold, dropping your bloody katana and releasing your hair from its red tie. The temple servants must’ve already heard that their relatives died the night before – all thanks to your inability to handle your feelings.

It’s okay, you tell yourself, you’ve done this a thousand times before with Sukuna: killing people, enjoying their screams, basking in their surrender and painting the image of hope fading from their eyes into the back of your school.

You’ve done this a thousand times before with Sukuna, but this is the first time you’ve done it alone. You only ever took their lives because Sukuna asked you. Because he assured it was a way to keep gaining strength and to make a name for yourself; that being a powerful Curse was the best feeling in the world and no amount of woman or alcohol felt greater than power.

Sukuna lied.

To him, his heaven was in her arms.

And you? Utterly lost. Broken. With nowhere else to go. As you enter your room, you’re greeted by the sight of a made up bed and cleaned sheets. Even after slaughtering families, your servants still cleaned your room out of fear, and the previous blood from the other day had been wiped away with bleach.

Then, you see yourself from the floor length mirror. White yukata that might as well have been red from the amount of absorbed into the cloth draped over your curves, and your eyes lost what little light it once held. Blood drips from your fingertips and you swipe your thumb over your lip, a small gasp falling to your lips as you recall a little girl, barely five or six winters old, with the exact same lips trembling as she begs you not to kill her parents.

It’s the splitting image of you when you were younger, when you ran around cities unintentionally wreaking havoc out of confusion over your powers. You have no parents. No past. No memory. You just came into existence because of mankind’s grief, and it only made sense you carried that burden more than anyone else.

But you’re not this. You are not a killer. You didn’t enjoy it. You never enjoyed it. Even when Sukuna convinced you that you did, there was no forgetting the fact that you cried yourself to sleep when you were younger at the thought you grew more powerful because you added to the heartbreak of people.

The word heartbreak lights up a bulb in your head. That’s right...you’re the Curse of Heartbreaks – of pain, of grief, of mourning, of suffering.

If you couldn’t have what you want, then why should he? Isn’t it already written in your fate that your destiny is to carry those pain, inflict it onto others, and make them realize they’re wasting their lives believing a lie that love prevails all? That love prevails even someone as irredeemable as Sukuna?

You won’t allow it.

Without wasting another second, you dash to her room. Sukuna’s out to deal with some clan leaders for whatever ritual he wants to perform or out to get more healing potions. The girl never went anywhere else outside the temple because both jujutsu sorcerers and curses are always ready to prance, and she’s smart to not put herself in harm’s way.

But you are harm’s way.

You run so fast through the hallways that you keep bumping into corners, denting the wooden boards and the floor cracking beneath you. You don’t stop until you reach their room, swiping the doors open, and sliding on the doorframe when you see she’s still asleep.

She and Sukuna must’ve stayed up all night performing...activities. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been this weak. She’s a lively and bubbly girl, she wouldn’t have – you freeze in your spot.

Tentatively, you reach over to where she softly snored, tilting her to face you by grabbing her shoulder. She only groans in her slumber before burying herself under the covers. “Sukuna...” her brows furrow as she twitches, probably dreaming about something, and she kicks the covers off with a whine. That’s when you see it. And then you see everything.

A small – barely there – bump on her tummy is half concealed by her lace gown that reveals her skin free from scars, a sign that she’d never really been in battle. But she’s carrying his child, and even though you’re not the one pregnant, you feel bile rise up in your throat.

Your knees wobble and you fall beside their bed, your palms shaky as you place it over her belly. First, you hear a baby cry, and then, a man’s scream.

Sukuna carries his daughter’s form, the little thing bundled up safely in towels while her father coos at her. She’s so small, vulnerable and exposed to the horrors of the world, but she didn’t need to worry about that. Sukuna would protect her, and so would you.

You stand outside the room, a small smile on your face with your arms crossed on your chest. Well, you’ll be damned. You’re not a fan of children and babies in general, but you do admit the infant’s cries sound like music to your ears. It means she’s alive and healthy, and even though her existence is nearly impossible considering her father is a curse, the girl was born perfectly fine and well.

Suddenly, a dark, ominous presence looms over the room. You stand on guard, hands drawing your blade to prepare for whatever or whoever attacked you. You’re not a fan of the kid and or her mother regardless, but Sukuna is left open and vulnerable for attack in this state. He’s too busy fawning over his kid to sense any incoming assault.

However, something doesn’t feel right with this one. That dark, suffocating feeling doesn’t travel. Instead, it’s stagnant and somewhat docile, as if it has no intention to attack, but its threat still remains. It doesn’t even seem like it came from anywhere or it’s about to arrive. Rather...it’s like it was always there to begin with.

Your eyes widen at the realization.

What would happen if a curse...fathered someone else? Would it be human? Or would it be something worse?

You slam the doors open, and everything happens in slow motion. The baby’s mother reaches out to a nearly sobbing Sukuna, eager to see her child, but just as her small, grubby hands wrap around her mother’s pointer finger, it falls. She stops breathing, her arm falling limp, and Sukuna stops cooing. The baby’s cries cease, staring up at her father and extending her small arms to cup his face.

It seems he realized it too, but it was too late.

“Sukuna, don’t!”

The child giggles, her knuckles brushing against her father’s jaw, and the King of Curses lose his grip on her. You watch as they both fall, a garbled scream leaving your lips. The midwife runs to save the child before she’s crushed under Sukuna’s weight, but she too has fallen victim the moment her skin made contact with the baby’s.

No...it’s not even a child or an infant. It’s not even human.

It’s the Curse of Death.

And at her birth, the world would grow dark, darker than what you and Sukuna have already caused the world to be. Her words would sound like a fork scraping against a plate; torturous, excruciatingly painful, and enough to have you begging for death. The simple brush of skin upon skin takes away the energy, power, and life even of the most powerful beings. After all, what is stronger than Death? It was the only absolute truth in the world – which all things must come to an end.

You retract your hand from her body, sweat dripping on your hairline. That thing growing inside her body...it must not be born. Sukuna would die.

With a silent scream, you whip out the dagger and force it upon her stomach. Or at least, you would’ve, if not for the blade that had peaked out your chest and nearly poking Sukuna’s lover’s back. Blood stained the silver blade, leaking into your lap.

You drop your dagger.

“I trusted you,” Sukuna begins calmly, pulling out the sword from your body in one swift movement. He ignores the way you cough out blood, your head shaking as if to deny his words. His face remains expressionless as he wipes your blood on his thigh, dropping the potions to aid her pregnancy beside her on the bed. Sukuna crouches down to your level and pulls you by the hair until he’s close enough that you could see his two other eyes also glare at you. “Have I not made it clear she is to be untouched? Just because you’re unable to handle your petty jealousy, does not give you a goddamn right to kill what’s mine.”

“What grows in her is a monster,” you sneer, struggling against his grip. You’ve forgotten that his sword is imbued with his special curses that would immediately exorcise any weaker Curse, but because you’re on the same level as him, you die slowly, and a lot more painfully.

“That child is mine. It was created out of love.”

“It is not a child!” You argue, “It will be born as the Curse of Death, one that will kill both you and your little lover!”

“And if you’re lying?”

You grit your teeth. “I would never lie to you, Sukuna.”

His brow shots upwards, a smirk creasing his lips. “Is that so?” he shoves you until you slam against the wall. Sukuna treads to you dangerously, his tongue peeking out to swipe at his lips. You know that darkness in his eyes better than most – it’s the look he always wore when he decides to go for the kill.  “Then, since you’re always honest to me, tell me this: do you still love me?”

You don’t even think about it.

“Yes. That’s why I’m telling you to get rid of that thing before you and everyone else dies.”

“A concerned little lamb,” he hums in amusement. “That makes it clear then,” Before you could process what happens next, you take your last breath as Sukuna rips out your heart with his claws. It’s not an actual heart, but rather the core of your Curse manifestation and the gem-like object is crushed under his fists. “Queen of Curses, Curse of Heartbreak,” he drops the pieces of your heart into your lap, Sukuna growing more and more blurry in front of you. “Die the same way you came to life: with a terrible, terrible heartbreak.”

Sometimes, you can’t help but feel like you’d been an awful person in your past life. It’s not that you’d ever done anything illegal or rebellious. Your parents are quite proud of your immaculately clean school record, and your grades are even above average. The school’s faculty absolutely adores you for your preppy personality, always volunteering to help others and taking the lead when no one wants to budge.

You suppose you’re quite a role model, but what no one understands is that maybe you’re always going out of your way to be kind with someone because deep down, you have a nagging feeling you’ve once been a terrible person.

Sighing, you wrap your arms around your legs as you hug it to yourself, whacking your forehead in your knees to get rid of those impending thoughts. There’s really no reason behind it, more like an intuition that you’ve forgotten about something important.

You’re pulled out of your trance when warm, soft hands push your hair back, and a pair of even softer lips land at your shoulders. Immediately, you smile, turning your head to peer at the dark-haired beauty that shyly peeks up at you under his long lashes. He keeps peppering kisses all the way up to your neck until you laugh from being ticklish, and it doesn’t take long before Megumi has you smiling again.

He knows you better than you know yourself.

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles on your shoulder, his warm hand drawing comforting circles on your lower back. Again, the simple gesture ignites something within you, something about oddly familiar even if you don’t feel like you’ve experienced it firsthand. “You’ve been deep in thought lately.”

“Lately?”

“Hmm,” he moves up your face, pressing a long, solid kiss at your forehead. It makes you relax and sigh happily, unable to help your urge to crawl into his lap and bury yourself in his arms. “Ever since Itadori enrolled here, you’ve always looked at him...quite weirdly. Is he bothering you? You know if he does something weird, I won’t hesitate to feed him to the Divine Dogs.”

That elicits a laugh from you. Now that you think about it, you’ve been awfully quite ever since Gojo sensei came back with that overly excited kid. You don’t know why, you don’t even realize his presence affects you, but you don’t want Megumi to worry about it when you can’t understand it yourself. So you hug him closer until the scent of fresh laundry wafts your senses, and you brush his scalp tenderly.

Megumi purrs.

“It’s nothing you should worry about, I’m sure I’m just tired from exams.” Unlike Megumi, you’re not a jujutsu sorcerer. You came from a totally human family that lived a totally mundane humane life, unaware that curses exist and people actually die from it. If it wasn’t for Megumi saving you that one time in school when you unknowingly stayed behind the same night the Occult Club did and ran into some freaky monsters, you would continue living without any idea of it.

It wasn’t always easy accepting Megumi’s true identity, but you loved him more than anyone else, and so hiding in his dorms while lying to your parents you were going to sleep over a friend’s house has become somewhat a daily occurrence. You’ve even made friends with the lovely Nobara and Maki senpai who welcomes you with open arms – although maybe it’s because you never fail to bring them food from the city and some fashionable items for Nobara.

Megumi senses your hesitance to talk about it, so he drops it and enjoys the feeling of your skin on him instead, your breaths falling in the same rhythm. Tonight, he and his classmates would go out on a mission again because the idiotic Gojo-sensei was away overseas, and as always, you’d stay up late in Megumi’s room, waiting for him to come back right after he promises you you’ll come back safely.

You close your eyes and wrap yourself around him like a koala, and Megumi laughs at how small you are. He doesn’t brush you off, though. He knows you fear for his life despite the fact you trust him with his abilities, but you can’t help it. It’s only natural to worry about your loved one, after all.

For now, he’ll have to keep cuddling and kissing you for as long as he could before he leaves.

How does one soothe their lover who’s come from battles?

You scramble away from Megumi’s bed the moment you’re waken up by the sound of steady knocks. The first aid kit lays on his study desk, which you swipe with sleepy eyes as his baggy clothes crinkle in your smaller figure. It’s rare that Megumi lets you see his state during after battles, but today, tonight, he allowed you to stay even after his mission.

Your steps are nothing but hurried when you slide the door open, his name about to fall from your lips until you’re greeted by a young man with strawberry blonde hair and black marks on his face. It’s Itadori Yuuji, but at the same time, it’s not him...

His cheerfulness and airheaded self is gone, replaced with a much sinister entity residing within it. The man before you sighs, frowning in distaste at your clothes – your boyfriend’s clothes – before he invites himself in and shuts the door behind him.

Sukuna hums, pulling you closer to him until there is no space between your skin and his, his face nuzzling in your neck. “I’m home,” his lips brush the bare skin of your neck, his breath warm and ticklish. “I made it home to you, my Queen. Safely like you asked.”

“Wha-?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers so quietly you wonder if you heard it at all. “For not believing you, for not seeing you. It took me thousands of years to realize where I fucked it all up, but I know the truth now. And you were right – you were always right. I hope in this life I no longer break your heart in the same way you soothe mine.”

 - - - - - 

A/N: Sounds like a pretty confusing ending, which it is, and I was gonna leave it at that but because I don’t want anyone to go “HUH?” after reading this, I’m just gonna explain :D Sukuna eventually realized how toxic he was to the reader in her past life, how he convinced her to be a bad person with him then emotionally abandoning her the moment he found his happiness. She was the Curse of Heartbreak, and her powers remained even after she was “exorcised.” 

She broke his heart by showing him how he lost everything after her exorcism and his lover’s death (because he also saw the future that the child was the Curse of Death) and all those years of suffering eventually made him realize that the power of heartbreak was the one that destroyed him. So in the present, when the reader was reincarnated as a human girl, he finally found her and tries to make up for his mistakes because she was actually his first love, he just didn’t realize it because both of them were somewhat barbaric and psychotic. Lmk what you think, I hope you liked it!

[maybe-your-left]

Will You?

Welcome to the content dump, where I'm clearing out my WIP folder from my YEAR of writing fanfic... so be ready for a bunch of random posts that don't fit together and have no central plot other than me wanting to write a one-shot that was so specific I had to just get it out.

Supreme Leader garbage, order up.

TW/CW: mild NSFW, mention of injury, lite-angst, fluff is there too, this is sappy shit, established relationship, Kylo doesn't enjoy telling people his personal information, female reader insert, swearing.

Here is the Mega Masterlist, the Kylo Ren Masterlist, and the Supreme Leader Masterlist (this is currently my hyperfixation) :)

“Hey…could you come down to the medbay for a little bit? We’re having a situation.” 

You sat up in bed, tablet squished between your shoulder and ear. “Yeah what’s going on?” 

A sigh, “Look, just come down and I’ll fill you in when you get here.” 

Hanging up, you rolled off the bed. Walking to your closet, pushing past all of Kylos robes to find your clothes. You made a mental note to have a droid come down and remove all his stuff. Since you kicked him out yesterday evening, you weren’t expecting him to come back. You threw on some black leggings, boots, and a long-sleeve black shirt. Ruffling your hair so it didn’t look like you had just laid in bed and cried for 14 hours. 

When you arrived at the bay everyone was scattered around. Nurses and doctors shuffling patients all over the place. You made it to the front desk, patiently waiting for Kate and Christopher. Your old coworker, and an ex-boyfriend. It had been about 6 months since you ‘resigned’ from working, which was all Kylos doing. He didn’t like you not being available for him 24/7. 

Kate turned to you, a thick file in her hands. She looked exhausted, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she looked at you. Chris was no better, glaring at you while he had his arms crossed. Both of them looked very pissed off at you. 

“Look,” Kate sighed, rubbing her temples with her free hand, “I’m going to be blunt, and I need you to answer honestly. Are you dating the Supreme Leader?” 

Your eyes widened, mouth gaping as you tried to think of a response. Kylo had never called you his girlfriend, he referred to you as his ‘cum bucket’ ‘little girl’ or even the occasional ‘princess’ if he was feeling nice. He definitely didn’t want people knowing he was fucking you daily. Saying that he didn’t want to put you in danger, but he barely gave you affection that wasn’t a ploy to get inside you. You swallowed, crossing your arms defensively, “No. I’m not dating, or have ever dated the Supreme Leader.” 

“Okay,” she groaned, “Well I need you to come with us.” 

You trailed down the hallway, everyone staring at you as you followed. Mostly faces of pity, and fear, especially the closer you got to the issue. Kate paused in front of the doorway, turning to you again. 

“So here’s the issue,” She stared you down, “The Supreme Leader was admitted this morning, after collapsing on the bridge. He was brought in kicking and screaming while bleeding profusely from a wound on his side. He also sustained a significant amount of damage from his fall and a recent combat he returned from yesterday evening.” 

You nodded along, waiting to see where you came into this. 

Chris cleared his throat, “They also believe he broke his knee, but he won’t let anyone touch him. He’s attacked three medics and keeps ripping out his IV.” 

“And,” Kate mumbled, “He also threatened to kill Chris, because ‘he was the reason you dumped him’.” 

“When he came in he was begging for someone to go get you, and began to get violent when we told him unless you were his emergency contact we couldn’t involve an ex-medic.” 

Suddenly the door slid open, revealing a very angry Kylo Ren. His chest was rising and falling in shallow bursts, face red and sweaty. Blood seeping through his armor, he immediately hissed at the two medics. “If you even so much as touch me I will rip off your limbs one by one-.” 

“Kylo Ren!” You shouted, moving around Kate and Chris. Standing directly in front of him, scowling up to his face. “Is that how you fucking talk to people? Hmm?” 

His eyes immediately dilated, taking in a short wet breath. Shoulders dropping in defeat, “No.” He wiped his nose, sniffling away small tears that slipped through. “I didn’t think you’d come.” 

“Well,” you shrugged, “I didn’t know you were so injured. Now get back in that bed and let them help you.” 

Kylos hand reached out, attempting to grab your wrist. But you ripped away from him, walking into the room. Standing directly next to the bed, face neutral as he watched you avoid him. 

“Come here,” you growled through your teeth. 

He slowly limped over to you, his own face now holding a scowl. Sitting down loudly next to you, his eyes not leaving your face. You looked over at your friends, who were still out in the hallway, “So, we aren’t dating. We never have-.” 

Kylo butt in, “Yes we are.” 

“No, we aren’t,” you groaned, “You have specifically told me that under no circumstance am I to tell people that we were sleeping together.” 

He clicked his tongue, “Well I’m not the one who kicked me out of our shared chambers...” 

“Oh my god, I’m not doing this right now with you. Let’s get you out of your robes so they can assess you.” 

Kylo glanced at the others, glaring at them, “Get out.” 

Once they left the room he stood again, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to the bed. “We are dating or were until yesterday. Just because I never said it doesn’t mean you weren’t my lover.” 

You groaned, “I know I was your lover, but you never said I was your girlfriend! You’ve always said the opposite of that!” 

He leaned back, chewing his cheek as he thought. “Well, will you?” 

“Will I what?” 

“Be that.” 

“Kylo, use your words,” you rubbed your face in frustration. 

He looked down at the ground, mumbling as he spoke. “Be my girlfriend or partner, or lover, or whatever the fuck will make you happy.” 

Your eyebrows shot up, reaching for his face so he would look at you. “If I say yes will you let them reset your knee and stitch you up?” 

“As long as you take care of me,” he whispered. 

“You do realize that you have to do boyfriend things like give me affection if we are going to actually date.” 

He rolled his eyes, “I already give you affection.” 

You shook your head, “Sticking your dick in me isn’t the affection I’m talking about.” 

Kylo leaned back on the cot, eyes wandering over your figure as he hummed at your accusations. Pawing at the hem of your shirt, “I tried to come back last night, but you deleted my pin for the door.” 

“I did do that.” 

“I couldn’t sleep without you,” he whispered into your neck, placing a light kiss as he tried working your top off. “I missed laying next to you.” 

“Oh yeah?” you smiled, nuzzling into his neck. Even though he was sweaty and gross, you wanted to be close to him. You really did enjoy being with him, even when he insisted that you weren’t together, he would still give you moments of pure devotion. Kylo began pushing you down on the bed, caging you with his frame. “I know what you’re doing, Supreme Leader.” 

“Mmm,” he mumbled, maneuvering your legs so they were wrapped around his waist. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

You began to push him off, giving him soft kisses as you leaned forward. His lips wrapped around your earlobe, lightly sucking on the skin as he tried to push you back down. You groaned, squeezing your legs into his ribs. Causing him to jolt up with a hiss in pain. 

“Sorry,” you cringed, “We really need to get you stitched up.” 

Kylo whined, pressing his forehead into your chest, “Can’t you just do it from home?” 

You sighed, pushing his shoulders so he would maneuver against the bed. Ignoring when he winced in pain, his ribs were probably hurting. Kylo collapsed, whimpering as you began to undress him. Ripping his boots off first, pulling apart his tunic, you tried to stop yourself from gagging. He was soaked in blood, each article clinging to him. 

There was a knock at the door, you mumbled a ‘come in’ even though Kylo hissed. Kate handed you some scissors to cut off his underclothes. Along with ripping down his pants, “Don’t bend your knee,” you whispered, pinning the limb down since he tried to shimmy away. 

After you undressed him, you held out a black scrub gown for him to wear, "Arms up."

"No."

You scowled, earning one matching back at you while Kate groaned in the corner. Typing away on the computer to ready him for an x-ray and eventual surgery.

"Come on," you held it up again, "You can't just be naked while they operate on you, so you need to wear this."

"They aren't going to operate on me."

Kylo raised his brows at you, pouting like a child in just his briefs and smeared in blood and bruises. God, he looked terrible, but the attitude was worse. You couldn't let him win this, "Yes, they are." you motioned to his fucked up knee cap, pushed in the wrong direction.

How did he even walk on that, and how didn't you notice it last night?

"Look at your leg, Kylo," you sighed, grasping his wrist that he tried to keep away from you. Struggling away in the process of threading his arms through the holes and pushing his chest towards his legs to tie in the back.

"Stop moving me, you're a very mean nurse."

You smiled, "Well, I'm not your nurse, I'm just your mean girlfriend."

-------

TAGLIST 2022 FORM: @finn-ray-nal-beads @thepalaceofmelanie @moonyscardigans @ghoulian13 @botnasty @xxgarden @pop-rocks-and-skittles @historyandfandoms50 @doggycompiex @daydreamsofren @millenialcatlady @ladyjade83 @mariesackler @eagerforhoney @celes @emi11ie @caillea @uncle-eggy @loganluckylover @emeritusemeritus @cornmousequeen @shesakillerkween @insufferablelust @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @zimmermansbrat

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Broken trust

Summary: Finding out the truth about the Darkling, Y/N recounts the way they met only to realize she must say goodbye.

Warnings: angst

Series Masterlist

=================================

Loving him felt like the most exquisite form of self destruction. She should have known sooner that he would be the source of the greatest pain she had ever known. Perhaps that's the problem, she never loathed the darkest parts of her that felt drawn to him from the first moment he had gazed upon her.

She never trusted anyone, not even her best friend until years have passed. She barely trusted herself for that matter. Trust didn't come easy for her, neither did love, but Y/N trusted Aleksander from the start, she didn't even question him and that is why it hurt so much, why it tore into her and ripped her to shreds.

She looked at him through a tear-clouded blur, her chest aching as her heart constricted inside with the iron fist of betrayal squeezing it tightly.

"How could you have lied?" She pauses, placing a hand on her chest, "To me?"

His jaw clenches, his eyes widening ever so slightly, "Would you have stayed?"

His voice is even, a calm in her raging storm and she can't help but hate him for it. While she is falling apart, he seems perfectly fine.

Her bottom lip quivers as her hands form fists, but when she speaks, she does so through gritted teeth, "When have I ever given you cause to question that?"

Aleksander steps closer, but Y/N is quick to take one back. His lips part, the way she can't even stand his presence inflicted hurt he didn't realize he was still capable of feeling.

"Do you remember when we met?" She asks, unsure why she's reminiscing now.

Walking into a Grisha tent wasn't quite a bright idea on Y/N's behalf, but sometimes you realize there are people worth risking your life for, and for Y/N, her best friend Mal was that person.

She had accepted a wager that would guarantee no one would pick on Mal, all she had to do was retrieve some grapes from a Grisha tent and this particular one seemed to be the only one unguarded.

She looked around at the dark colors inside with a frown etched in her face. She couldn't understand who'd enjoy living in such darkness. Isn't the world dark enough as it is?

Shaking her head, she looks to the table and upon the table she find the grapes that meant Mal would be safer. Wasting no time, her hand clutched the bowl and yet as she took it in her hand, a voice had startled her.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?"

Nodding, Aleksander pursed his lips. His eyes are dark, two pools of infinite darkness she had liked upon her before. She wasn't quite sure if she enjoyed his attention anymore.

"You were in my tent." He raised an eyebrow, "Uninvited.",

Gasping, Y/N turned around, her hands remaining behind her with the grapes safely hidden.

"I am sorry, I got lost." She came closer, her eyes meeting the intimidating black ones of the man much taller than her, much more powerful than she could ever be.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes trailing her from head to toe, studying her as she realized he didn't believe her.

"I was just transferred back after a mission, I didn't realize the tents have been moved around. Mine used to be here", she managed a nervous smile, walking around him and toward the exit in hope of him letting her go.

"And yet you didn't leave once you realized it was not yours anymore", he spoke, his gaze following every step she takes. He steps in her way, blocking her from leaving. He's close, close enough for her to feel the faint smell of alcohol on his breath.

Swallowing thickly, she keeps staring at him as if he had chained her eyes to his, as if he had enchanted her. She doesn't even feel as his right arm moves around her, not until his hand plucks a single grape from the bowl, bringing it to his lips.

"Don't they feed you over in the First army?"

A faint smile forms on Aleksander's lips, just enough for the corners of his mouth to move, to capture her attention.

"You were stealing from me", he notes and she holds her breath as her heart, as treacherous as it is, jumps at the nearly lighthearted chuckle escaping him.

"And you stopped me from leaving", she adds, a sigh passing her lips.

"I should go" , Y/N blurts out, passing by the unknown Grisha as swiftly as possible. Just as she's about to reach the exit, to see the light of the day, cold, long fingers wrap around her left wrist, effectively pulling her back to face the Grisha.

A gasp escapes her once her eyes meet the dark shadows around the Grisha, more so when a light explodes around them. A warmth like she had never felt before spreads inside her, beams around her and the Grisha whose eyes are wide in shock, awestruck just as much as she is. The light encases them, her body shaking with the magnitude of their reality, yet she cannot comprehend where the light is coming from.

Breaking away from his eyes, she looks to his hand wrapped around her wrist, securely holding onto her. The glow of her skin, a thousand suns emerging from every inch of her makes her breathless. Her knees buckle and still, instead of the fall, she feels an arm around her, pulling her up and closer, much closer to the Grisha she had just met.

The shock of his arm around her dims the light, the darkness blinding her temporarily.

Only then does she hear the excited murmuring and whispers around her, only then does she look back at the Grisha holding her, keeping her from falling to her knees.

"Wh-what just happened?" She breathes out, her eyes flickering from his relentless gaze to his lips as they form a smile.

"You are a Sun summoner."

Leaning back on the table, Aleksander crosses his arms. "I had no intention on hurting you when I did. Your light must have felt it or it wouldn't have responded to me."

Scoffing, Y/N averts her gaze, "It was naïve." Locking her eyes on him once more, she adds, "And so was I."

"If I had told you, would you not think I'm evil from the start? Would you not have hated me?" Aleksander's eyebrows furrow, a single strand of hair falling to his forehead and it took everything in Y/N not to laugh. His disheveled look, if she could call it that, is still a thousand times more perfect than any other man.

"You could have trusted me." Tucking her hair behind her right ear, Y/N sighs heavily. "I trusted you. Now we will never know."

Unnerved, Aleksander comes before her in just a few strides, his hands cupping her face as she holds her breath, afraid of letting him know she still cares for him. It's an advantage she refuses to hand him.

"I don't want to lose you, Y/N. You're all I have", his voice is quiet, almost vulnerable, something she had only sensed in him once before and that was when he spoke of the burdens of his legacy. That was a lie, so was this not a lie as well?

She placed her hands over his, letting them linger momentarily before pulling them down, away from her with all her strength.

"I am not yours to lose!" She walks past him, just as she had done on that fateful day they met, and his hand catches her wrist just the same, pulling her back into his chest.

She pushes against him, trying to get away but his hold on her is stronger, unmoving like a force of nature.

"You may not be mine, but I am yours. There is no one like us in this world, Y/N", Aleksander's voice is softer, more tender than his embrace feels.

Shaking her head, Y/N croaks, "Don't make me hurt you."

"Hurt me?" His worry and pleas are replaced by arrogance, a smirk appearing on his lips. He could never imagine her to be powerful enough to harm him physically, but her leaving? That would break him.

Staying with him would undo her, Y/N knows that. She's tearing to pieces and not at the seams, it's much harder to heal when you break in an uneven patter where you can't stitch yourself up and move on. No...Aleksander Kirigan will be a gaping wound for a long time and then a nasty scar to serve as a reminded why she shouldn't trust easily, or anyone but herself.

"You once told me I would be your equal", she raised her chin defiantly, the smirk on her lips rivaling his. "You were right."

She raises her hand to his face swiftly, a light emerging from her palm in such bright intensity she could feel her skin burning with it.

It didn't last long, for her it felt like a few seconds, but his pained scream would remain in her head like an echo for a long time to come.

For Aleksander the pain was momentary, he healed rather fast. But when his vision cleared and she wasn't by his side, that pain would last a lifetime, fueling his darkness as he sets out to find her - the only light that can chase away the shadows he invited on the day the fold was created.

Y/N once believed he was worth loving, that he could be saved. Aleksander vowed to make sure she does again.

PART 2

[charlietheepicwriter7]

High Priest, Pt. 2

From “The Many Akumatizations of Luka Couffaine.” 

The class was, for the most part, silent.

No one knew what to feel after yesterday, Juleka included. It was… Everything was fine, they were all hanging out, and then Lila mentioned that Marinette got out of trouble for bullying her, which was horrible, and… and…

Juleka didn’t know who pushed Marinette. She just knew that someone did. No one goes from backing away from a hoard of angry teenagers to crumpled at the bottom of concrete stairs by the Seine by yourself. And then Lila had said, 

“Wow, I can’t believe she’s faking being hurt. She has a lot of nerve after pushing me down the stairs. I didn’t make such a big deal out of it.”

And they all just left her.

But Marinette wasn’t faking. She’d seen it in Luka’s face when her parents had called him, saying that Marinette was in the hospital and that he needed to come, as her boyfriend (her boyfriend, Luka was her boyfriend, when Lila had told them Marinette had bullied her because of Marinette’s jealousy over how close she and Adrien were-). And now… 

And now…

The class was silent. 

Who was the guilty one, Juleka wondered. Not Lila, she had stood at the back of the group while they accosted Marinette. Not Adrien, who hadn’t gotten involved and hadn’t defended Marinette, a true neutral that wasn’t neutral at all. Not Chloe, who wasn’t even there and chatted away with Sabrina without a care in the world, unknowing or uncaring about their hospitalized friend. But Alya, but Nino, but Kim, but anyone… 

There was a murderer among them. 

A sharp trill of their phones went off, all of them at once. The akuma alert. Alya, who already had her phone out, was the first to shout. “There’s an akuma at Arc Hospital!”

Juleka paled. (“I’m going to Arc Hospital! Tell mom not to wait for me!”)

“Apparently it can transform the environment,” Alya gushed, like her best friend wasn’t in danger. No one noticed Adrien leaving with a rushed excuse about the bathroom - they were all used to his weak bladder by now. “That’s so cool! I’ve never seen an akuma do that before!”

“There might be a sentimonster along with it,” Nino pointed out. “Maybe on the hospital itself, and that’s why it transformed.”

“Oh, that makes more sense!” Alya replied, already packing up her bag. “I’m going to head to the sight; someone has to document the akuma!”

“I’ll go with you,” Nino said. 

The two were heading out the door, nothing too different, when Lila spoke up, shakily raising her hand. “C-Can I come too?” she asked. “It’s just… I’ve been so worried about Ladybug lately; akuma’s have been getting a lot stronger, so I just thought that I could be there for her, cheer her on?”

Alya looked nervous. “Well, actually-”

“That’s a great idea!” Rose gushed, like they didn’t have a friend in that specific hospital. “I’m sure Ladybug will defeat the akuma with her best friend by her side!”

“Yeah!”

“Hey, we should go too!”

“Ladybug will certainly feel empowered if an entire class cheers her on!”

“Sure. She’ll probably end up needing Queen Bee, if the akuma is that powerful.”

We shouldn’t do that, Juleka tried to say, only for the words to get stuck in her throat. Did they see that they were putting themselves in danger, potential hostages for the akuma? But no, they were blind. Lila led them like lemmings, encouraging them, saying “Yes, of course Ladybug would love that, we should all go!”

That’s how, despite her instincts, Juleka was forced into going to ground zero. At least she wasn’t the only one disliking the situation. Both Alya and Nino looked put out for some reason, and Chloe was just unhappy in general. 

The hospital had been transformed into a temple. “Aztec,” Rose whispered as they all stared up at the pyramid. “It looks… like those pictures from that research project Luka was doing.” Juleka nodded and suddenly had a horrible feeling about who exactly the akuma was. The stone looked rough, the mica a sandy-grey. Pictographs were carved into the stone, unlike any Juleka had ever seen, with each image growing more and more graphic in violence as the class climbed the pyramid together. They all… looked like people, she noticed.

The truly concerning factor, however, was the group of people that gathered at the bottom of the pyramid as the class trekked upward. But no one else set foot on the temple. They were utterly alone. 

There was only one entrance into the temple, a wide, gaping mouth of a door. Fire flickered inside the opening. Alya gave a shaky smile as she readied her camera. “Well, I guess we’re expected, right guys?” Her attempt at a joke fell flat as the class inched into the temple. 

The inside was covered in carvings, intricate and beautiful, painted and bright. Most of them depicted a beautiful dark-haired woman with a crescent moon on her forehead being worshiped. Was she the akuma? Some woman with a god-complex that turned the hospital into… this? Torches lined the walls, throwing dark shadows across the paintings. “They look like they’re moving,” Nathaniel whispered, enthralled as the class spread out, everyone looking around the interior. 

Alix frowned. “It doesn’t look very Aztec to me.”

At the center of the room was a glass altar. Or, more accurately, as Juleka approached it, a glass coffin. The frosted glass concealed the content’s identity at a distance, but up close, Juleka realized it was… “Marinette?”

That got everyone’s attention. Shocked gasps and exclamations filled the room. Alya pushed her way to the front. “What? No, it can’t be…”

Nino looked at the coffin nervously. “She can’t be akumatized, can she?”

“Of course not!” Alya spat back, coming to the defense of her comatose best friend. “She’s too strong to-”

Lila clung to Alya, cutting her off. “She was probably so upset that I revealed she was bullying me!” She wailed, the sound grating in the echoing expanse of the hall. “Oh, it’s all my fault that Marinette finally got akumatized!” For a moment, Juleka thought Lila sounded… vindicated? What?

“Cease your lies, Defiler of this hallowed place. -A strong, male, familiar voice boomed out, seemingly from nowhere-“Lest your accursed tongue wound the ears of our slumbering Goddess.”

From the shadows immerged a blue figure, dressed like a stereotypical Aztec priest. His skin, mostly his bare chest and face, was covered in black tattoos, like the line of triangles under his left eye and over his right. He wore a large, jeweled necklace that sparkled in the fire light, and feathers, dark blue and pink, trailed out of his short hair and down his back, past the linen skirt he wore to cover his modesty. 

It was obvious at first glance that the akuma was Luka. 

What was also obvious was the large, ceremonial knife in his hand. 

“Rejoice, heretics, non-believers, and renouncers of the faith,” the akuma said, looking down on their class with cold rage. “The day has come at last to join our Goddess in everlasting peace at her side. For I, the High Priest, have been given the sacred duty of awakening the Goddess of the Moon, the Melody of all Hearts, the Ever-Resting Queen… and it is with your blood that she will live again.”

Rose trembled at Juleka’s side. “Our… blood?” she whispered.

“Correct.” He could hear them, oh no, oh no… “Either through service or sacrifice, it matters little to me. Though my Goddess may wish for you to bleed through service, I care not so long as the blood is taken.”

“You…” Alya growled, then snapped, pointing at the High Priest. “Ladybug and Chat Noir will defeat you and save Marinette, you fiend. And if you think any of us are joining you, you’ve got another thing coming!”

“So, you have chosen death.” The room grew darker, the torches dimming. The High Priest’s eyes glowed neon blue. “Then may my Goddess have mercy on your fleeting soul…

“For I will have none.”

Taglist: @larasilvestris   @vixen-uchiha    

[keijislove]

Pureblood Mania: Sirius Black X Reader

A/N: Warning: toxic mother-daughter relationship. Mentions of drinking.

Sirius Black was one of the most arrogant, thick and inconsiderate prats anyone would have the misfortune to meet. He found his pleasure in staying with random girls who truly fell for his charm all while he didn’t even look back once he got what he needed. Which is why to say that he was furious at the moment was a complete understatement.

His ‘beloved’ mother had decided to pounce upon him this very morning and Walburga Black was not one to beat around the bush. Authoritatively, she stormed into his room and snapped her fingers in front of her face, saying, “We’ve got to talk.”

Sirius supressed a massive groan – this couldn’t be good.

“I can see your future is going nowhere, boy!” she snarled, “You shall, under no circumstances, besmirch the ground that my forefathers have bestowed upon me by ending up to be a – a street dweller!”

Sirius rolled his eyes. Trust her to say something dramatic like this.

“Therefore, to improve our situation and get rid of you,” she added nastily, “You will be getting married at the end of this month.”

If there was anything Sirius was expecting, it definitely wasn’t this. He got up so fast that his chair crashed to the ground. He did not care.

“Wha- married?!” he sputtered, “To whom?!”

“You shall see this evening,” his smother snapped, “She’s a lovely girl. They will arrive at around five. Wear something respectable. And fix your hair!”

She stormed out of the room, leaving Sirius mouth agape.

Married.

She would probably be some swotty pureblood. The very thought disgusted him. Though, deep down, Sirius always knew he would be married this way, he wasn’t ready for that level of commitment. He was used to variety. Now he’d be stuck with some dull girl for the rest of his life. This day could not get worse.

------

“I’m ready, mum,” you spoke in a monotonous voice.

This morning, your darling mother had announced that you’d be getting married at the end of this month to a ‘charming’ young man. You knew she didn’t care who you married. Pureblood was the word.

You were wearing a F/C dress and your hair was styled neatly – very unlike you.

Your mother came bustling into the room saying, “Good. We should leave now, they’re expecting us. And don’t embarrass me.”

She glared threateningly at you.

You rolled your eyes.

As you stepped into the car, very much aware of what you were signing up for, it drove ahead through the beautiful town you’d once called home. Your car stopped in front of a handsome manor – one you’d never seen before.

As the front gates opened to reveal a scrawny house elf, you followed your mother inside. The moment you reached the living room, something felt off.

“Ah, Y/M/N!” a richly dressed woman greeted, “And dear Y/N! How lovely to see you!”

It was at that moment that you spotted one of your oldest friends, Regulus Black. Your eyebrows rose. This was better than any random pureblood, however, you were quite incapable of thinking of Regulus that way and you were sure he was too.

You looked at him and he looked back. You pointed to yourself and then him and mouthed, “Seriously?”

Regulus looked sickened and shook his head in disgust, mouthing, “Not me.”

You frowned slightly. Regulus didn’t have a cousin, did he? After all, the only other person in the house was –

Oh. Oh, OH.

Your face morphed into an expression of absolute horror as you registered the other person who had just entered the room, mirroring your expression.

Realising you were gaping, you cleared your throat and spoke, “Sirius.”

Your voice was three octaves higher than usual and you hated it.

“Y/N.” Sirius breathed, still in shock.

“Oh, you two know each other?” Mrs Black clapped happily, “How lovely.”

“Yes,” you muttered, “How lovely.”

You glared his way as a pang of immense guilt welled in Sirius’ stomach, eating at him like termites as he relived his only memories of you at Hogwarts.

A girl was laughing and chatting animatedly to an otherwise quiet boy, who reciprocated her actions. Y/N L/N and Regulus Black were almost inseparable.

“Oi, Y/N!” a dark-haired boy with a handsome face called, “Is it because you pity my idiotic brother that you hang out with him? Or is it just that you’re so pathetic that no one else wants to hang out with you?”

His mates howled with laughter as you blushed furiously. Regulus threw a disgusted look their way and tugged at your sleeve, muttering, “Let’s leave.”

-

The same girl was now attempting to carry a large pile of books to the library to help Madame Pince with her work, when they tumbled out of her hands and she fell to the floor with a thud.

“What’s that, L/N?!” Sirius Black yelled from nearby, “Bite off more than you can chew?”

James and Peter positively roared with laughter as Remus suddenly became interested on one spot in his book, his brows furrowing into a frown slightly.

You gathered your books in embarrassment before practically running to the library with them.

-

As he relived these moments, he realised how much you’d actually grown. You weren’t the same old dorky girl from Hogwarts. You were now a quiet, reserved and admittedly extremely attractive young woman who looked ready to burst into tears.

“Sirius dear, take Y//N up to your room, will you?” Mrs Black gave a nasty fake smile.

“Yes, uh, okay, come on,” Sirius stammered.

You walked up the stairs in silence, not daring to look at each other. The house was indeed, very beautiful. As you reached Sirius’ room, you clambered inside before he finally spoke.

“So,” Sirius awkwardly began, “H-how are you, where’ve you been?”

“Do you really care or are you just being polite?” you muttered, upholding a deadpan stare out the window and on the handsome garden.

“Listen, Y/N, I know we got off on the wrong foot-”

“Yeah, we damn right did!” you snapped, pouring out seven years’ worth of feelings at once, “You never had the right foot when it came to me, Sirius, and I doubt that you have it now.”

“Look, I know you don’t want to do this,” Sirius desperately said, “I don’t want to force you into anything but-”

“Oh yes, there’s always a but when it comes to you, isn’t it?” you spat, “I can’t call off this marriage because my mum will kill me, you understand? Kill me. And I’m not like on of the many girls you screw every night-”

“I never said you were,” Sirius angrily spoke.

“Thank Merlin, you’ve finally done something wise, Black,” you snarled in his face, “We’ve got to grit our teeth and do it. Will you please try not to be a complete and utter arse and make it harder for me than it already is?”

At that moment, your mother burst into the room, “Y/N darling, we’ve got to leave now, and get your dress picked.”

Trying not to gag at the fake ‘darling’, you threw one last nasty glare in Sirius’ direction before following your mother out of the room.

-------

DAY OF WEDDING (A/N: sorry 😉)

“Bleurgh,” you blankly stated to your friend Lily Evans, who was getting you ready for the wedding alongside another girl called Marlene McKinnon, to whom you’d never really talked but she seemed nice anyway.

“What’s wrong, you look gorgeous!!” Lily gasped.

“Spiffing, Y/N,” Marlene grinned at you, “Let’s get your hair done, Sirius is a lucky man!”

She hastily added, “Joking!” as you glared murderously at her.

Soon your hair was styled and your veil perched on top of your head along with a bouquet of roses in your arms.

As you walked alongside your father down the aisle, you fought the urge to turn and run on the spot. Sirius was gaping at you from the front. He looked quite nice, you had to admit.

His face formed a cocky smirk as you fought another urge to throw the bouquet at his face.

You didn’t register any vows the priest made, your mind wandering over to glimpses of the future you were signing up for.

The word that caught you by surprise was, “You may kiss the bride.”

“Oh shit,” you thought, trying not to panic.

Sirius threw an anxious glance at your face, as if asking for your permission and you closed your eyes and nodded slightly. You could feel his minty breath on your face as his lips captured your own. They were gone the moment they appeared.

You flushed. How foolish of you to think Sirius Black would ever like you. You were looking anywhere but his face, refusing to fall for his charm. As the guests congratulated you and the food was eaten, the speeches delivered, it was finally time to go home. You were to go to a honeymoon destination your mothers had chosen and Merlin you were going to regret this.

The moment you stepped inside your bedroom; something was off. The whole room smelt like flowers and there was this tiny ass bed in which the two of you would have to squeeze.

“Ugh,” you moaned into your palms, grabbing your clothes and heading off to the bathroom to change out of this awful wedding dress and into your nightclothes.

By the time you washed off your makeup and brushed your teeth, your new ‘husband’ was already sitting on the bed, changed into his own nightclothes.

You sat warily on the bed, as far away from him as possible. Sirius threw a questioning glance your way before speaking, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Ignoring this mildly hurtful jibe, you spoke, “You don’t care how attractive the girl is, as long as she’s ready to shag you.”

“Nice,” Sirius sarcastically muttered, “I can see why Regulus liked you. You’re a bloody psychopath.”

“He’s a damn sight better than you are,” you retorted.

“I’m the handsome one,” Sirius cockily stated.

“I’d rather marry Severus,” you coldly spoke, “At least he knows his manners.”

“You really know how to wound a man.”

“It’s midnight, go to sleep. And no funny business, Black,” you warned.

“Can’t make no promises,” Sirius chanted as you threw a pillow at his face before turning the other way and falling asleep.

------

Married life didn’t suit you at all, especially when your husband was such an arse. He would leave early morning and go out with his stupid friends and sometimes even bring them over. Let’s just say you didn’t fancy quietly sitting in the corner, watching James Potter and Sirius Black taking turns shoving pencils up their noses while Peter cheered them on and Remus sat with his head in his hands, continually apologising to you.

You drew the line when Sirius returned one day, apparently been out with his friends.

He silently hung up his coat before turning to walk to the bathroom when you shut your book and spoke, “Enjoyed ourselves, did we?”

Sirius turned around to face you, confused, “Huh?”

“We need to talk,” you spoke, struggling to keep your voice even.

“’Kay, but first I’m going to-”

“NOW.” you spoke with such a ringing force in your voice, Sirius was surprised at himself for not recoiling several steps.

He cleared his throat, “Yeah, OK. What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you what’s up,” you fumed, “Where do you get to these days? I go to bed and you’re not there; I wake up and you’re still not there and you turn up for lunch then disappear again to wherever you go!”

“So?” Sirius shrugged, “’Smatter with you?”

“For Merlin’s sake, Sirius, I’m your wife,” you spoke, “I have a right to know where you go-”

“You’re not my wife,” Sirius frowned slightly.

“I – what, sorry?!” you sputtered.

“I thought we just married for namesake,” Sirius’ frown grew deeper.

“Yeah, but that still makes me your wife, git!” you yelled angrily.

“Why do you care where I go?” Sirius furiously asked you, “It’s not like you like me any better when I’m around-”

“If you’re married, I hope you realise that you can’t sleep around anymore, namesake or not,” you coolly stated.

Sirius looked taken aback, “I don’t sleep around.”

“A likely story,” you snarled.

“You know what, you’re being ridiculous right now,” Sirius huffed in annoyance, “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait, no,” you hurried forward and made to seize his forearm but he roughly shook you off before slamming the door in your face.

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

“I’d make fun of you right now,” Regulus was trying to control his laughter, “But you seem pretty miserable already. Care telling me what’s wrong, brother?”

Sirius scowled at his younger brother. Trust the little shit to try and get back at him for possible blackmail material.

“I need something to drink first,” Sirius stated.

Regulus snorted before summoning a bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses with a wave of his wand. He poured some out for himself and gave the other glass to his brother.

Sirius took a swig before speaking, “It’s Y/N. She’s acting weird.”

“You always found her weird,” Regulus coldly stated.

“Nah, now she’s weirder than usual,” Sirius shuddered, and with a deep breath, began to explain.

By the time he finished, Regulus was staring at him with incredulity and exasperation.

“Are you really such an idiot?” he asked disbelievingly, “You’re supposed to be smarter than this, Sirius, dogs are smart!”

“What’s intelligence got to do with this?” Sirius asked, confused.

Regulus rolled his eyes, “You’ve no idea, have you? Imagine, brother, my situation at Hogwarts when she used to burst into tears in front of me after you’d teased her, telling me that she was no good and how Sirius Black would never like someone like her back!”

Sirius’ look of confusion morphed into one of comprehension, followed by horror.

“She-?” he asked.

“Yes,” Regulus nodded, staring at him in disgust, “Now go apologise to her, or I’ll hex you so bad you’ll shoot flames out of your-”

“No, okay, no,” Sirius made a disgusted face before proceeding to down the entire bottle of Firewhiskey.

--------

A knock on your door around midnight told you that your delightful ‘husband’ had come home. Scowling, you got out of bed to open the door to reveal and extremely drunk Sirius standing there.

“What the-”

“I’m sorryyyyy Y/N ieeeee,” Sirius sobbed, flinging himself onto you.

“Uhm,” you awkwardly patted his head, “What’s going on-?”

“All the time I thought you – hic – fancied my – hic – brother, when you were really – hic – oh, I’ve been a complete – hic – arse to you and – hic – now I’ve – hic – ruined everything,” he rambled.

“Sirius, what-” you got cut off as his lips sloppily grazed over your own. You closed your eyes for a brief moment before realising he was drunk. He probably didn’t know what he was doing. This was wrong.

“Sirius,” you muttered, pushing him off slightly, “You don’t mean this, trust me, you don’t.”

“I do, I do,” he howled, still sobbing, “I wanna be your husband – make lots of little kids with you!”

“OK,” you spoke, this was where to draw the line, “Tell me this when you’re sober, with a straight face, and I’ll believe you.”

His face morphed into a dorky grin and his head lolled over to your shoulder as you practically carried him inside before the both of you fell asleep.

When you woke up, you were surprised to see him leaning impatiently over you, showing no sign of a hangover whatsoever.

“Ready to make those little kids?” he asked cheekily as you gasped, a realisation hitting you.

“I’m going to kill Regulus.”

[helloprettybb]

slip of the tongue

i love bucky with all my heart. that’s it.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

description: bucky doesn’t really like you. but a night alone and a stab wound may change his opinion.

warnings: violence, bad description of action scene, heated kissing??? not smut but implied

word count: 1.9k

Bucky hates you. It isn’t difficult seeing as you’re Stark’s daughter and every quality in the man is tenfold in you. You’re crazy smart and you aren’t afraid to show it. Perhaps your worst attribute is your arrogance since it’s justified most of the time. Bucky hates how you’re always right and the stupid smirk on your face when you outwit or outtalk someone.

He knows you can tell and that’s the worst part. It seems you do everything in your power to irk him even more. Like trying to talk to him every time he enters the room or asking for every excruciating detail for any minor event. You get on his nerves and nothing could change that.

The team left for a mission this morning so it’s just you and Bucky at the Compound. After doing nothing all day, Bucky decides to go for an afternoon run. He doesn’t listen to music, as he enjoys the sounds of the city between the mindless chatter and the speeding cars, it reminds him of his youth.

Towards the end of his run, Bucky starts toward the Compound when his ears pick up a yell. Going towards the noise, he spots three men assaulting a woman. She tries her best to hold them off, but she is greatly outnumbered and outmatched by the three, burly men.

Bucky springs into action and grabs the man whose hands are around the woman’s throat. Yanking him off easily, Bucky shoves the man to the ground with a force that was probably harder than necessary, but he doesn’t feel an ounce of remorse as he moves his attention to the two other attackers. He grabs the second man, who is slightly shorter than the first and punches him square in the jaw. He releases the woman and stumbles back. The third man lands a few punches on him, but they barely phase Bucky. While fighting off the last man, Bucky doesn’t notice the first guy get up. He also fails to notice the shiny knife in his hand before it’s too late. The man stabs Bucky in the side. Now Bucky’s pissed as he pushes the third man into the wall. He turns toward the man with the knife and knocks him out cold.

He looks around and realizes the woman must have run away. “Good.” he thinks, but only for a minute as he remembers that he got fucking stabbed. He groans as he applies pressure to the wound.

Bucky makes it back to the Compound, but the pain is getting worse. Stumbling inside, he heads for the labs to look for a medkit. But of course, since it’s his lucky day, you’re there, too. You’re probably finishing the project that you were talking about for the past few weeks - something about particles accelerating, but Bucky didn’t care enough to ask. He hopes he can slip by unnoticed, but the gaping hole in his side draws attention to him.

Your head snaps up from your work and you see Bucky hobble by. “Heya Buck,” you start in your usual playful manner. But when you look at the state he’s in, your attitude changes immediately, “What the fuck happened?”

“It’s nothing.” he grumbles. You look down and see that he’s holding his side. His sweatshirt and fingers are covered in blood.

“Bullshit.” you say. Moving around the lab, you quickly find the medkit. “Sit down.”

“I don’t need your-”

“Shut up and sit down.” you interrupt. Bucky’s protests stop as he sits down on one of the stools. You pull up a chair and open the kit.

“Y’know this will probably heal by tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but it can’t heal if you bleed to death.” you retort. While the injury most likely won’t kill him, your point still stands. “Can I?” you motion to his hand. He removes his hand and you quickly pull his sweatshirt up to treat the wound. Luckily it’s a shallow stab wound and the gauze you put on is enough to stop him from bleeding out. As you continue to apply the gauze, you have to force yourself to not get distracted by his defined abs and focus all your attention on the wound. Your fingers trace over his stomach and he jumps slightly.

“Sorry,” you mutter. Your hands must be freezing from being down in the lab for so long. Once you finish applying the gauze, you say, “There, all done.” You look up at Bucky and are unable to read his expression. It causes you both to fall into an awkward silence. “So,” you say to clear the air, “How’d this happen?”

“Some guys were attacking this woman. Didn’t know one of them had a knife.” He responds gruffly. You nod in understanding.

You finish patching him up and say, “If you need anything like extra bandages or a beer, just come to me.” Bucky simply nods, unsure what to make of that proposition. He begins to leave awkwardly and almost makes it out of the lab before something in him makes him turn back.

He pops his head in and says, “You said something about beer?”

-

Bucky doesn’t know what time it is and he doesn’t care. He’s on his fourth beer, but he can’t get drunk so it doesn’t really matter. It’s funny because one beer turned into two and then three and now he’s found himself in a full-on conversation with you. And the most surprising part is that it’s delightful.

Behind your arrogance and quick judgments, you’re really funny. He knew you were smart, that wasn’t a surprise, but talking to you more changed his opinion of you.

“So, Buck.” Usually, that nickname didn’t get to him but a healing stab wound and a couple of beers will change anyone’s perception.

“What?” he asks.

“Got any lucky girl?” He scoffs at that and you look shocked. “What? It was simply a question.”

“It wasn’t the question, doll.” Since when did he call you doll? Just a slip of the tongue, he supposes. “It was the fact that I’d even have someone.” he says honestly.

“What do you mean? You’re a good-looking guy, just over one hundred. Any girl would be lucky to have you.” Bucky rolls his eyes and laughs. Damn, you’re growing on him.

“I’m serious!” you exclaim. Your left arm is on the couch and your hand is leaning against your hand. He realizes this is the closest you’ve been besides before when you were tending to his stab wound. “You’re a catch, Buck. What stops all the ladies from falling all over you?”

He rolls his eyes at you again whether at your persistence or wording. “I’m a bad guy, doll.” There it is again.

“That’s not true,” you scoff. Taking a sip from your beer, you casually add, “Besides, I’ve always had a thing for the bad ones,” Bucky raises an eyebrow at that. “Come on, Buck. I’ve liked you for a pretty long time. I thought I made it quite obvious.”

“By annoying the hell outta me?” He jokes.

“Hey, I was just trying to talk to you. Although I know I can come across as….”

“Annoying.” he says back. You give him a look that makes him laugh and soon a smile spreads across your face.

“I actually do care about you. But, I know you don’t feel the same way, so I’m happy just being friends.” Bucky thinks it over for a moment. Just this morning he was thinking about how you bothered the hell out of him. Actually, the more that he thinks about it, he realizes that he never really hated you. Did Bucky like you all along? He’s about to reply when the elevator doors open.

“Oh, you’re back?” you turn to greet the team.

“Hey, what are you doing up so late with Bucky?” Your dad eyes the two of you suspiciously.

You catch onto what he’s implying and assure him, “We’re just hanging out. In fact, I was just heading to my room. See you tomorrow.” You say a quick goodbye and leave before anyone could say anything.

They all turn to Bucky, ready to attack him with questions. “I’m going to head up, too.” Bucky quickly exits. He catches up to you, although he definitely didn’t mean to. Curse his long legs.

“Oh, hey,” you say as he enters the sleeping quarters.

“Hey,” he says. Fuck it, mind as well try it. “So, about the friend thing.”

You wince, “You don’t want to be friends.” You seem a little hurt by it, “I get it, you don’t really like me. It’s not like I can force you, too. And especially after I basically confessed to liking you as more than a friend, I could see how a potential friendship wouldn’t sound too appealing.” You’ve never looked this uneasy. He’s used to seeing you so confident and assured, but this was new.

Bucky lets you finish rambling before he replies, “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh.” He laughs a little, finally shutting you up. He moves closer, but you stay still. You both can tell what’s about to happen, yet neither is making a motion to stop it.

“I like you. As more than a friend.” You look like you’re trying to play it cool and contain your excitement, but Bucky sees you bite your lip like you’re trying to stop your smile from spreading.

“So…” You start like you’re thinking long and hard about what you’re about to say, “Can I kiss you?” You’re adorable. Bucky takes one last step and pulls you into a kiss.

Your lips are soft against his. Beyond the taste of beer, Bucky picks up some… he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip… cherry lipgloss. He’ll never get sick of the taste of cherries. He thought it’d be a sweet, innocent kiss but when you grab at his back, trying to hold him as close as possible, he knows it’s anything but. You kiss him hungrily as if your life depends on it and Bucky eagerly accepts. He muffles your moans and gasps and thinks about how nice those sounds will be echoed in his bedroom.

Bucky moves you so that your back is against the wall. You moan as his hands trail down your sides and onto your ass. His hands go under your thighs and you jump so that you can wrap your legs around his waist. Bucky catches you and pins you between himself and the wall.

Your hands go up to his hair and play with a few strands before pulling lightly. He groans at that, separating from your lips and throwing his head back. With his neck exposed, you trail kisses up and down his throat. Sucking and biting occasionally and making Bucky go crazy.

Two can play at that game, he thinks. He reconnects your lips to kiss you again and starts grinding his hips into you. Your hands go to his back and start scratching against his shirt.

Before this could go any further, Bucky pulls away and asks, “My room?”

And you smile, “Fuck yeah.”

[genshin-no-simp]

Kaeya x Reader (Smut)

Pairing: Kaeya x You/Reader (Female)

Sexual content below the cut.

Warnings: Kaeya has wolf ears and a tail.

------

Ever since Kaeya had gotten back from an expedition with the Knights, he had been acting, strange. It wasn't really noticable at first but as the week progressed his behaviour got even more peculiar than usual.

Naturally Kaeya is very affectionate with you, he isn't afraid of grabbing you, pulling you close to him or giving you kisses whenever he wanted, but lately his touches have gotten more lingering, more possessive. He's gotten more testy with people, no matter who they are, no matter how long or little you spoke to them, if he wasn't your centre of attention, it pissed him off. He would even growl at people for just glancing at you.

Then he started avoiding you, you didn't understand why, since you know you haven't done anything wrong. Whenever you tried to confront him he would always brush you off and bury his face in work and hide away in his office. You were really annoyed with this, first he got over protective and now he's ignoring you. You weren't going to stand for this anymore.

It was already dark as you made your way to his office in the Knights of Favonius Headquarters. You were about to barge in when you heard low grunting coming from behind the door. Before deciding to open the door you placed your ear to it, trying to listen in closer. It was still faint but a bit clearer, you could hear Kaeya, grunting deeply. Your face flushed red as your heart pounded against your chest.

It was unusual that Kaeya would hide himself away, when he needed your attention most. So you opened the door and were greeted with a very unusual sight, there Kaeya was, sitting behind his desk, that wasn't unusual but what was on top his head was. It was a pair wolf ears, you could also caught a brief glance at a puffy blue tail behind him. You were at a loss for words as you continued to stare at him. What in the world happened to him? But you could at least understand his behaviour a little bit better.

"Stop staring and close the damn door," he growled, his eye staring straight at you.

Despite wearing clothing you felt naked in front of his burning gaze. But you did as told, closing the door behind you, you locked it. After hearing it click you turned back to your boyfriend, once again taking in his ears.

"What happened?" You asked making your way over.

"Fuck if I know," he panted, eyeing you up and down.

It sent shivers up you spine, when you got closer you could see his hand rubbing up and down his shaft, it made your cheeks redden again. Watching him stroke himself was really erotic.

"All I know is, its driving me insane. I've noticed your scent and presence a lot more, it's so intoxicating," his eyes dragged up your body again, "I keep thinking about how I want to completely control you, to own you, I never want anyone to see you, I just want you to myself." He groaned as he continued to pleasure himself, while he was talking you noticed that his canines were longer and sharper than a regular humans.

"But I'm afraid of hurting you, I don't know what I'll be like if I give into these desires."

That's why he started avoiding you, it made you feel better. Finally understanding what was going on with him. So you gave him a loving smile before moving to kneel in front of him. His eye wavered slightly, he grabbed your shoulders to stop you.

"It's okay, Kaeya, I know you'd never do anything to hurt me. I trust you." You looked him straight in the eye as you spoke, never once faltering. You meant it when you said you trust him, and he knew that.

It was like his self control was ice just like the Cryo Vision he owned, as it slowly started to melt away. As he stared into your, loving, devoting gaze. A low growl escaped from his throat as he pushed you up onto the table. The treatment was a bit rough, but it wasn't nothing you weren't used to when it came to this activity. In fact you enjoyed it when he manhandled you. So that's why you weren't going to argue with him about how he wanted to control you. Maybe somewhere deep down this is what you've always wanted, to be owned by him, to be his obedient pet.

"I've warned you (Y/N)." He whispered lowly into your ear, "there's no going back now." His breath was icy against your skin, you shivered with delight putting a hand through his hair pulling him closer.

Kaeya growled deeply biting down on your neck. His fangs digging into your soft flesh, a gasp spilled from your lips, as you tugged on his hair. It hurt but it was oddly nice. Soon a small moan escaped as he felt him suck and lick at the wound he made. Kaeya was surprised to hear such a noise from you, but he took it as a good sign, it also set a fire inside his gut.

Unexpectedly he hooked your legs under his arms and you were forced to lay back onto his desk, your skirt raising up as you unintentionally flashed him. Kaeya eyed your clothed womanhood, as there was already a wet patch in your underwear. He licked his lips letting out a satisfied purr, before delving between your legs. His tongue pressed against your clit through your panties. You let out a moan arching your back, shoving you womanhood into his face. He accepted your invitation sliding his hands up your thighs he gripped your panties as he ripped it from your body.

He pressed his nose against your throbbing clit. He didn't care if he got any of your juices on his face, he was intoxicated by your scent. He let out another purr of satisfaction, you could feel his chilly breath on your pussy, your legs were trembling already. Kaeya pressed the pad of his tongue against you. Your body squirmed slightly, he only just started but you wanted more and he wasn't going to disappoint.

Kaeya impatiently dove his tongue into your pussy. He teased and prodded your hole before pushing his tongue inside. You moaned loudly tugging on his hair. This certainly wasn't the first time Kaeya had ever worked his magic on you, but it was never like this. It felt as if his tongue was longer, reaching deeper inside you, maybe it was also a new trait along with his ears and tail. With that in mind your hand that was in his hair made it's way to his fluffy ear. It was really soft as you rubbed it between your fingers. Kaeya hummed softly in approval, pushing his tongue in deeper, straight after he sucked your sensitive bundle of nerves lapping up your juices that threatened to spill out of you.

"Kaeya!" You threw your head back, grabbing a fistful of his blue locks, as you came on his tongue.

Kaeya took his time, to eat you clean. Making sure he didn't leave a single drop. He removed himself from you, licking his lips as he looked down at you. Your face was flushed, your lips parted as they gaped for air. His fingernails bit into your skin, as he pulled you closer to him, your pussy rubbing against his cock. He gave you no warning as he plunged deeply into you and he gave you even less time to adjust to his size as he set a brutal pace.

You choked on a moan as you reached your hand out for him, he grabbed your hand pinning it to the desk below you. He lifted your legs higher onto his lips, snapping his hips deeper and quicker into you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you screamed out in pleasure. You were becoming dizzy with pleasure, so much so, you couldn't think straight, you couldn't think at all, expect for the man above you. You had no thoughts expect him for him, you didn't recognise your own name when he called you.

"(Y/N)," he growled into your ear.

You were incapable of forming a coherent sentence, so you squeezed his hand in response.

"Look at me." He ordered.

You can't, you can't open your eyes. Not with the amount of pleasure that Kaeya was giving you, that was running through your body. So he slowed his pace tremendously, only then did your eyes snap open with disapproval.

"K-K-Kaeya?" Despite his slow pace, you were still a moaning mess.

Everytime he pushed into you, you felt so full, so complete. He rubbed against all the right spots that made you tremble and shake.

"I want you to look at me while I fuck you into oblivion." He panted, his blue eye had turned purple from how drunk he was on you.

"I-I can't..." there was a tremor in your voice.

"You can. You don't want to disappoint me do you?" He asked cupping your cheek in his hand.

No you didn't want to disappoint him, you wanted to be good for him. So you gave a little nod. That was good enough for him, as his pace picked up again, it didn't take long for it to go back to the brutal pace he set at the beginning. You could feel your eyes flutter close, but you forced them to stay open. Your forced yourself to stare into Kaeya's eye. It was becoming very difficult not to shut your eyes at the pleasure, especially as your end was approaching. Your moans echoed in the room as the raised in volume.

"Not yet baby," he nipped your ear, "not until I say so." You whimpered softly.

How the hell were you supposed to hold it in? But you had to do as he says, you wanted to please him. So you bit you lip, hard, hoping the pain would distract you from the burning desire in your loins. You could taste your own blood, you decided to focus on that, as you sucked on your lip.

Kaeya grunted at the sight. It turned him on greatly knowing you were trying to distract yourself from the pleasure you were feeling, but he wanted to push you further. He smashed his lips on yours, taking your bleeding lip into his mouth, he sucked the droplets of blood from it, rubbing his tongue over the wound as your lip began to swell.

You moaned deeply. It was too much, far too much, the coil in your stomach wants to burst so bad but you couldn't let it. You wanted to shut your eyes and give into the pleasure of release but you couldn't yet. You wanted to be good for him. You didn't notice the tears that rolled down your face until Kaeya removed himself from your lips, some of your blood smeared on his own lips, he licked your salty tears as he felt his own need to release nearing. Watching you cry due to so much pleasure running through you, drove him over the edge.

"You're such a good girl baby," he praised, your walls clamping tightly around him, "go ahead."

Finally free, your eyes screwed shut as you were finally able to submit to your release. Feeling your walls spasm from how hard you came, Kaeya released with you.

"KAEYA!" You moaned loudly, from feeling both of your releases. Kaeya growled deeply as he continued to thrust into you, letting you milk him dry. Once he was satisfied he pulled out and watched as his cum oozed out your pussy.

You whimpered softly feeling his gaze on you, you couldn't help but rub your legs together to hide yourself away. But Kaeya didn't seem too pleased with this.

"Baby don't hide from me," his low voice made you tremble with delight. Swallowing your shyness you spread your legs once more.

Kaeya licks his lips, as he watched you like a predator assessing his prey. Lifting one of your legs onto his shoulder he grabbed your other thigh, spreading you wider. Your chest heaved with anticipation. Sliding his hand from your thigh he slide two fingers into your cum drenched pussy. Arching your back you moaned like a cheap whore. Kaeya chuckled as he kissed your thigh next to his face he latched onto the skin sucking and biting, your skin blooming red.

"Kaeya please." You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm but you wanted him.

Kaeya chuckled deeply, "sorry baby, but I'll be taking my time to devour you." His tail flicked behind him, as he licked his lips.

His eyes shined with mischief, he was in control and you couldn't do anything to stop him now.

[angelguk]

so much happens in this it’s such a huge mess omg. the return of the angst plot line of jock!jk (aka pretty boy universe please check ml for the other parts). this time featuring: Angst (with a capital A), miscommunication that makes you want to scream, chayoung’s true nature, namjoon catching stray bullets (figuratively), and lucas being a gem. also jungkook is somewhat semi-violent in this one (in terms of thoughts and some actions but no one gets hurt) so please don’t read this if that makes you uncomfortable. in general just an angry heartbroken boy. also oc is finally doing something good. listen to mess it up by gracie abrams + if we were made of water by banks + i will by mitksi + save room for us by tinashe. roughly 4.2k

titled — old friends, new foes

The spring scavenger hunt is an enormous success, all thanks to your careful planning and Bina’s much needed support. While you excelled at organising, you heavily lacked in the social aspect, something Bina fulfilled with smart marketing and a bright personality that drew in a larger crowd than you thought would appear. It's partially expected–she was head of the Events Committee for a reason–but it felt a little strange to lean onto her instead of Jeongguk. He was the one who usually spearheaded that side of your event plans, more than anyone else, and while planning this one you felt his absence tenfold. Like a gigantic gaping hole excavating through your chest and leaving behind a lonely hollow.

That hollowness surges when you spot him meandering towards the third location at the university courtyard, his fingers tangled with Hyeri’s. You slowly turn away from them, heart aching with each thud against your ribs, hoping they haven’t seen you. Maybe Bina sees the fall on your features because she’s gently tapping your arm, leaning in with a graceful brush of her amber locks over her shoulder.  

“Are you okay?” Her voice is soft, feathering through the late afternoon breeze to reach your ear. 

You’re about to say it, the pained ‘I’m fine' that had become a part of your routine. But then you hear him, loud effervescent laugh hitting the air, the sound striking your false demeanour down. Your vision blurs before you could choke the word out and suddenly Bina’s arm is firmly around you, guiding your heavy feet far away from the presence evoking your pain. 

“I’m fine,” you finally manage to choke up, folding into yourself in the middle of a bench. She stares at you for a moment, before taking a deep breath and sharply clicking her tongue.

“You’re not.” Her eyes are gentle despite the harshness of her words. “I know this isn’t my place, but I do know why you stopped coming to committee meetings.” 

The scoff you let out is instinctive. The jarring sound is a stark contrast to the action of your hand hurriedly wiping away the stray tears staining your cheeks. Of course, you’d avoided committee meetings – why the hell would you go when the president was your ex?

“And,” Bina continues, pointedly ignoring your reaction. Her hand reaches out moving to intertwine your fingers. You focus on the image of her sharp stiletto shaped nails that glitter under the glow of the sun settling on your lap instead of the thumping of your heart as she speaks. “Judging from what I’ve seen, it hasn’t been easy for him either. I know you’re probably thinking that you were the only one who cared about him–about your relationship, but I’m pretty sure he did too. So it’s perfectly okay for you to feel like this, no matter how long it’s been.”

Two months and three weeks, you mentally add. A lifetime and a single blink simultaneously. 

“I didn’t need to know that,” you say, hoping to kill the hope fluttering in your heart. Bina squeezes your hand instead and gives it wings.

“You did. Also, Jeongguk’s kind of an asshole. Sorry if it’s too soon.”

It’s not, and you can’t help the tiny laugh that escapes from your throat. You glance up at her then, suddenly glad for the dazzling glossed coated smile that greets you.

“But,” she continues. “You’re doing the wrong thing too. I know you’re dating Lucas and it’s not fair to him when you’re still hung up on Jeongguk.”

“I know,” you admit. “And I’m going to fix that.”

She beams. “I hope you do. Don’t let him make you pick the wrong choices. You deserve better than that.”

Perhaps it was her words of reassurance that aided in getting you out of the house tonight. (Or it was Bina gingerly whacking your arm and insisting you needed to reward yourself for working hard). But a minuscule part of you is glad you heeded her advice. The music is louder than the words bouncing around your head, sound shoving your sorrow down as Chayoung hands you another drink. Everything is fast, bodies shifting wildly around you and the faint sound of a beer pong game capturing everyone’s attention. For a moment, you begin to forget. But then Lucas’s looming head materializes before you and guilt swarms your heart.

“Hey,” he offers, deep timbre sinking into your bones. You might just throw up.

You haven’t told him about Namjoon. You can’t bear to. But there’s something else more urgent that you need to say to him first.

Chayoung watches through narrow eyes when he leans forward to brush a light kiss on your cheek. He’s so sweet it makes your mouth turn sour. 

“Haven’t seen you around,” Lucas continues, slipping beside you. A steady hand settles at the base of your back. You almost jolt away. 

Chayoung’s face is hard, expression carved out of marble as she stares you down. You know she’s mad at you, rightfully so. Even Sieun hadn’t said anything for a few days after you’d told them about Namjoon. You were mad at yourself too. For what you did–for what you need to do to fix it.

“Been busy. Planning the scavenger hunt and all,” you say, gaze glued to a random lamp at the opposite side of the room. It’s easier than staring at Lucas, who’s still so warm and bright. Practically glowing like he’s got the Sun living in his chest. 

You hope you don’t leave him cloudy.

He weaves his hand into yours, a pleasant noise escaping past his lips. “I know. Great job, by the way. You should be proud.”

Chayoung slinks away at that, the glower on her features burning your blood. You haven’t told anybody yet because you don’t want their advice on this. But you do need to end things with Lucas. It wasn’t fair to him. Yet, it feels nearly impossible when you tear your eyes off the fading figure of your friend and glance up to find him staring at you with the softest smile.

All you do is hurt good people. 

It’s a terrible realisation but it forces you to croak out the words, a rip forming inside of you when that soft smile slips off his face at the sound of them.

“We need to talk.”

But the second they are out you feel something in the world click into place like you’re finally making the right steps toward the correct path even though you need to step on the hearts of others to get there. 

Lucas lets you lead him in silence, the weight of it sinking onto your shoulders when he closes the door behind him, the music giving way to the noise in your head. When he turns to face you, watching apprehensively as you perch yourself at the edge of the bed in the room, it all begins to feel like deja vu. Except you’re on the other side.

“So,” you start, eyes on the wall. The feeling of the mattress dipping as Lucas descends beside you pulls your gaze back to him, heartstrings thrumming when the moonlight leaking through the opened curtains pools into his eyes.

How could Jeongguk have done this?

“We need to end this,” you say, realising as the air leaves your lungs that he did it like this. Like he needed to breath. It feels like cutting an anchor off your ankle, head breaking through furious waters to finally find air.

Lucas pauses, blinking slow. You don’t fill the emptiness with more words, afraid you’ll pour salt into an open wound. He lets what you said ruminate, eyes shifting to the scene around you. A random room, bathed by the glow of the room, and two hearts opposing each other–one already poised to leave. One that was never really there.

“Why?” It’s said lowly. You know why. You owe him this admission, after dragging him around on a sinking ship. But the words refuse to part from your throat. 

“I’m not right for you,” you say instead, hoping he understands. By the flicker across his eyes, he doesn’t. “Like,” you try, your eyes dropping to where his heart lies. “You’ve got a lot of good in you and I don’t. We don’t match.”

Lucas cocks his head, staring at the ceiling. And this his gaze careens to you.

“You don’t think you’re a good person?”

“Well–” you splutter. But Lucas isn’t having it.

“You’re a lovely person, Y/N. With a lot of good in you too. You are kind of shitty for this though but every good person does shitty things.” It’s said factually like he needs you to understand this.

“I know that–”

“You don’t. You put yourself down too much. Why do you think Jeongguk loved you?”

Oh. That seizes that air from your chest, Lucas’s gaze slamming into your own with a surety that stings. 

“Why do you think I like you?” He adds. You don’t know what to do, nervous system spazzing at this information assault. “And I know why you want to end this. You could have said it. I understand, though. The two of you did fight together so well.” He gets up then, towering like a God dictating judgment. “I didn’t expect you to stop loving him immediately, you know.” He’s near the door now, not fleeing but parting a new path. There’s a weird smile on his lips, like the forging of his steps hurts as much yours does. It’s like it’s been hung there, not pulled from his heart like you’d grown used to seeing. 

“What did you expect?” You can’t help but ask.

He pauses, the door half-open. You could tell him to shut it, you could tell him to stay. 

You don’t want to.

“That maybe one day you would love me more than you loved him,” Lucas whispers. He sees the fall on your features, knows the answer on your lips instantly. “But it’s okay that you never could.”

And then he’s gone, honey blonde hair swallowed by the crowd even with his impossible height. He leaves the door ajar, the music seeping into the room. But this time your head is louder, surer. Because Lucas just let you know something you weren’t even aware of yourself. There was no room for anybody else except Jeongguk. And it truly wasn’t fair to offer him your heart when it was half a world away.

—

Half a world away is apparently glaring at the shrubs flanking the back garden. Jeongguk doesn’t know who’s house this is. He doesn’t care either because at the moment he’s considering burning it down. He’d just seen you amble into a room, Lucas trailing behind like a stupid dog and his heart clenching hard in his chest. It took two seconds after the door shut for him to shove Hyeri off his lap and mumble something about needing air.

(What he needed was you).

The coolness of the night ebbed at his boiling blood, but nothing could ease the ache. 

“You look like you need a drink,” Chayoung’s voice feels alien, creeping up his back. He turns to look at her, a polite comment on how he’d like to be left alone hanging on his lips. She interrupts it by handing him a cup, a tender smile gracing her lips. Jeongguk accepts it with a shrug, hoping the burn in his throat will be a distraction. It isn’t. But he forces another sip down as Chayoung slithers outside too, the room behind her glowing as if the building was on fire.

What store sells matches and lighter fluid in the middle of the night? And won’t ask incriminating questions? 

“Why the long face?” She asks, peering at him from the corner of her eye.

Jeongguk shrugs, the words in his head refusing to form into understandable sounds.

“Hyeri not cutting it?” Chayoung murmurs. His eyes snap to her, but she’s not staring at him, her gaze fixed on the dark sky. 

“What do you mean?” Jeongguk is baffled say the least. He thought his act with Hyeri was a little bit more solid proof. He liked her–somewhat. 

Chayoung turns slow, almost sinisterly, a glint in her brown eyes that unsettles him. “I just don’t think she’s in your league.”

The scoff that leaves Jeongguk’s throat burns. He hated that stupid idea of leagues. You should like a person for who they are, not where they stand in foolish social hierarchies. But Chayoung reads his response wrong, suddenly impossibly close, a stray finger trailing along his shoulder. Her nails are talons. He shudders, trying to hide it by leaning away. Chayoung just leans closer, alcohol tainted breath grazing his own. For a moment, Jeongguk considers fleeing back inside to come ask you to collect your drunk friend (a perfect excuse to finally say something to you after months of radio silence) but then he remembers that might potentially end with him walking into the room and finding you with Lucas’s tongue down your throat.

And that would suck. A lot.

But before he can think of another solution Chayoung’s fingernails are scrapping his neck, leaving his skin prickled.

“But then again, do you seem to always pick the wrong ones.” That bristles him and his eyes are suddenly hard and narrow.

“What do you mean by that?” He spits it out, a spark igniting in his chest when Chayoung shrugs. The smile on her face disgusts him.

“You know what I mean.” Her finger is sliding down his shirt and Jeongguk feels branded even through the material. “When you look like this, running around girls like that is honestly a little sad.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He’s hoping he’s hearing this all wrong. That she’s just drunk and acting stupid. But when her eyes lift to him he knows she means it. Every word of it.

“You could do better, Jeongguk. So much better.”

“Chayoung you need to shut the fuc–”

Her lips taste like vodka and cherry lip balm, which is sickening because that’s what you taste like–sans the vodka. Cherry lip balm was your brand. It always was, you’ve got like five of them scattered around your room and a couple more hidden in Jeongguk’s. He recoils instantly, acid climbing up his throat as his hands find something–anything to push away. What he finds are Chayoung’s shoulders and when he pushes he pushes hard. They break apart and the floor beneath Jeongguk cracks wide open, his head spinning violently.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He doesn’t know what else to say, the circuits in his brain frying. Chayoung’s tongue skips over her lips, now wet and a little plush from the force she used to slam her mouth into his. 

“Showing you that you can do better.”

He blinks, taken a large step back when Chayoung moves forward, a little sway in her feet. 

“You’re drunk and acting crazy. I think I should call Y/N to com–”

“Oh fuck Y/N. Such a whiny bitch. Do you really think she deserves you? After all the shit she’s put you through?” Chayoung’s eyes feel like knives, sharp and striking deep with every word. 

“Aren't you her friend? What the hell is wrong with you?” Jeongguk needs this to de-escalate. Chayoung wants to throw gasoline on an open flame instead.

“No–what’s wrong with you, Jeongguk? Moping around for a girl who never realised what she had when it was right in front of her? C’mon now.”

“You seriously need to shut the fuck up. You’re not gonna talk about her like that in front of me.”

“Why not? Cause you still love her? Even when she’s fucking Lucas?”

That stings, his heart bursting in his chest because Jeongguk didn’t know you were sleeping with him. He thought it would just be kisses or something. Not that–not Lucas touching you like he used to. But then Hyeri’s face flashes in before his eyes and he wilts. He can’t blame you for anything, not when he’s been doing the same horrible shit to you. And that makes him pause, the sudden realisation that he’s been hurting you smashing into his head. He didn’t want to hurt you–never. Not even if you were hurting him. He just needed a distraction, something to ease you off his mind. And maybe you did too, but all left you both with was gaping wounds that would never heal. And with other people hurt too.

God, this was a mess. And it dawns on Jeongguk that’s he’s made the worst mistake he’s ever made in his life. 

“You should hate her,” Chayoung continues, venomous. 

“I don’t,” Jeongguk returns, voice levelled. All he hates right now is himself. And Lucas (which is fair). Chayoung blanches, shaken by his firmness. “I really don’t, in fact, I need to talk to her. Right now.”

He moves fast, foot already past the threshold when Chayoung speaks again, her words aimed with intent to kill.

“She kissed Namjoon.”

He feels the nerves in his legs still instantly, before they nearly give way entirely, his grip on the door frame the only thing holding him up as his heart tears out of his chest. 

“I thought you should know,” Chayoung adds. And he hears it then, that vile smugness in her voice. She’s lying. She has to be. You wouldn’t do that to him. And he says that, storming back to Chayoung with his chest ripped open, his body thrumming with barely concealed rage. And fear. Jeongguk feels so scared right now because if you did that means everything he felt–everything he feared–could be true.

“She did.” Chayoung is immovable, standing tall and staring him down. “I’m not lying to you. Go ask Namjoon if you don’t believe me.”

Which, Jeongguk realises as his eyes fall shut that is going to absolutely do. And possibly break a nose in the process. He turns, trying to blink away the blurriness in his eyes, before Chayoung stops him with a single sentence again, this one said a little softer.

“Jeongguk,” she starts, eyeing him down, her brown eyes aflame under the moonlight. “I mean it when I say she doesn’t deserve you.”

—

Someone is attempting to break down Namjoon’s door. Which is bizarre considering it’s almost three in the morning. He has to drag himself out of the comfort of his warm sheets to figure out which maniac is attempting to smash through solid wood with only their fists because it seems like they’re almost succeeding. 

The maniac in question is Jeon Jeongguk, standing rigid when Namjoon swings the door open, moonlight bleeding over his features. He’s mad, staring at Namjoon like he wished his head was rolling on the ground instead of stationed square on his shoulders. But there’s something else there, doe eyes glossy.

“Jeongguk? What the hell are–”

“You kissed her.”

Everything stills, the two men fixated on each other. Jeongguk is so still he could have been mistaken for a statue. Almost as if he was waiting for the words that would break this moment, ease the tension seizing his muscles, tell him what he wants to hear. Namjoon can’t do any of that. Instead, he sighs, a muted, “Oh”, floating from his lips.

Jeongguk snaps the second he realises it’s true.

“Oh? You kissed her and all you have to say is oh?” Hands are digging into the soft cotton of his nightshirt and Namjoon’s feet are no longer on the ground. He’s apparently levitating, lifted solely by this hurt angry boy invading his apartment. His back hits the nearest wall with a thud that vibrates through his bones. When the hell did Jeongguk get this strong?”

“Whoa–relax,” Namjoon wheezes, his strong fingers guiding Jeongguk off him. But heartbreak tends to be enough fuel because Jeongguk pushes back with an ease that unnerves him. “Jeongguk, you seriously need to relax. Let go of me and we can talk about this.”

“Why did you do it?” That is what he gets in return. Jeongguk’s voice wavers, coloured a violent red in the velvet of the night.

“I didn’t do anything,” Namjoon returns, the words delivered gingerly.

“No–no you did. You kissed her. You–”

“She kissed me, Jeongguk. And I can seriously explain all of it if you just relaxed and we talked about it–”

“No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t do that to me–she wouldn’t.” And Oh God No, Namjoon thinks he just heard the sound of a heart breaking. It sounds like a weird mangled bird collapsing from the sky and its wing hitting the ground with a funny wet smash, fragile bones snapping like twigs. 

Jeongguk’s fingers peel from his shirt and bury themselves in his hair, yanking at the cropped strands as his face twists. 

This is far too much emotion for a single person to deal with in the middle of the bloody night.

“Hey–hey, calm down. It was a mistake, I promise you. She was just feeling a little all over the place and made a bad choice–”

“No–that’s the fucking point! She made a choice. She chose you.” Jeongguk’s staring at him in a way that hurts, like he’s attempting to transfer all the pain that’s writhing through his body into Namjoon’s from sight alone.

“What? What are you talking about?” 

Jeongguk is frantic, almost like he’s trying to stop himself from pouring out onto the floor. A flood barely contained. “She chose you first. I was there–I was always there. But then you waltzed in and she saw something in you that she didn’t find in me and she chose you.”

Namjoon cocks his head, staring hard at Jeongguk’s round wide eyes, slowly coming to realisations that he was surrounded by idiotic people.

“I still have no idea what you are talking about, but I have to ask, don’t you remember a single thing I told you the last time we spoke about Y/N? You’re the reason we broke up.” That halts him and Namjoon takes that as a moment to press onward, somewhat tired of being dragged into this awkward mess. “And I’ll say this in the nicest way possible but you’re an idiot if you think Y/N wouldn’t pick you over me any day–over anyone really. I could be drowning and you could have a scrapped knee and she’d check on you first. We broke up because I realised I was just a placeholder until she felt brave enough to tell you she liked you. You were rather intimidating for her to approach. Or have you forgotten your track record of girls? It wasn’t easy for her–especially when she was risking losing her best friend.”

The silence that follows aches, Jeongguk’s eyes flashing like he never considered that in the first place. 

“But why the other guys then? Why not just tell me after you?” 

Namjoon’s going to bang his head into the wall. “You’re her best friend–what about that are you not getting? What if you didn’t like her back and it ruined the most important relationship in her life?”

“But I did–I always liked her.”

“No,” Namjoon nearly groans out loud. “You didn’t. If you liked her you wouldn’t have fucked Chaerin in the back of your car and then gone to report it to Y/N with a grin on your face.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon returns. “Oh. That’s the exact day we broke up too. Such a stupid fight because she was crying and that’s when I put two and two together and realised I was never going to take precedence over you.” 

“I didn’t know I was hurting her,” Jeongguk murmurs, almost distraught. 

A strangled noise erupts from Namjoon’s throat. “You’ve hurt her a lot more than you’ll realise.” But the second he says that and Jeongguk’s face twists into something unrecognisable he wants to take them back.

“She’s too good for me. Maybe we are better off apart.”

“No, no. You’re so wrong actually. This break-up thing has been miserable to watch and I’m not even in the centre of it. I’ve just caught a bunch of stray bullets.”

“You’re not getting me,” Jeongguk’s eyes swing to him. “She came to you at the end of it all. Maybe we are better with other people. Maybe you’re better for her.”

“She came to me because she missed you. She just needed someone to lean on during your absence. I wouldn’t have to do that if you were there. You know, you should just talk about this with Y/N.”

“I can’t, she’s happy with Lucas. I think.”

Namjoon wants to bang both your heads together so bad. Maybe finally the fact that you love each other would get through your thick skulls then. 

“She doesn’t,” he says, instead. “And I know that for a fact. You should really go talk to her. Figure this whole mess out. And also finally get out of my apartment.” Jeongguk’s gaze withers. Namjoon shrugs in return. “It’s the middle of the night and I have a meeting in the morning. I really need to sleep.”

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.” He’s so meek like this, nursing a shattered heart and a confused head. It’s slightly jarring to the image he usually presents, so self-assured and unfazed by whatever gets thrown at him. Never exposed like this, every emotion he holds inside displayed across his face. 

“It’s alright. Just think about what I said and talk to her. Honestly. Not skirting over shit like the two of you tend to do. Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, trailing towards the open door. Namjoon had registered a breeze billowing in, but he’d completely missed the fact that the door of his apartment was swung wide open. Jeongguk abruptly stops just as Namjoon’s sense of bearing returns, turning to face him with his face pulled down by shame. “I’m really sorry. For this whole thing. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that I was just–”

“I get it. You love her and it feels like she’s slipping from your fingers. Just don’t do that shit again and stop trying to push her away. I’ll say it again–you were always her first choice.” He sees it then, a slight flutter through Jeongguk’s chest. A broken bird mending. 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk breathes. “Thanks.”

Namjoon sighs, offering a tight smile and shutting the door firmly when Jeongguk finally drifts out. He needs a drink before he hits the sheets again. A strong one.

[averytiredfanfictionwriter]

Sic Semper Tyrannis

A syndicate x Platonic! Reader/ Technoblade x Reader

Warnings: murder, kidnapping, blood, a somewhat graphic depiction of getting stitches

Word count: about 2800

Ao3 Link: wow.

I’m excited to share this. I did write a version with an angsty ending, which is up on my Ao3 account here if you want to read that one as well. Fair warning though, while writing it I found myself dying inside so I don’t know how you guys would feel. It was the original way I wanted to take the story but as I was writing I also created this one which is an alternate, fluffier ending. Reader is a raccoon hybrid in this one. Don’t forget to like and follow for more. Enjoy!

It almost seems to be a mistake, Techno thinks. The woman- no girl- standing in front of him never struck him as the anarchist type. She was always too soft, too nice for any of it. Yet here she stands next to Philza, shivering from the chill of the cave and rubbing her bare arms. 

“This is the new recruit I was telling you about.” The winged man smiles at Techno.

“She seems… soft.” He mutters, taking in her shivering form before handing her a cloak.

She only nods, accepting the cloak gratefully and clipping it around her neck with ease before burrowing into the thick material. 

“Trust me. You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew her how I do.” Phil mutters, rubbing at his shoulder.

“Fine. But do you swear to uphold the values of the syndicate? Do you promise that you’ll help in our mission to destroy the corrupted governments that threaten the freedoms of its citizens?” Techno stands over her, red eyes practically glowing.

She nods hastily under his seven foot tall frame and he seems satisfied as he backs away. “Okay then. Come take a seat. We have a lot to talk about today.” 

Techno makes his way up the stairs to the table behind him, taking a seat facing the entranceway. Y/n looks up at Philza and he only shakes his head. 

“Don’t worry about him. He seems scary but he won’t hurt you. In fact, that’s the nicest he’s been to someone that’s tried to join yet.” Philza says before walking towards the table.

“Wait- what do you mean ‘tried to join’? Phil, what happened to them?” Y/n says in a panic.

“We don’t talk about them.” Ranboo chimes in. “Now, come on. Don’t want to be late to your first meeting.” 

Y/n scurries up to a chair at the table, taking the one across from Phil and next to Ranboo. She sits furthest from Niki and Techno who both seem to be scrutinizing her every move.

“Now, let’s get this meeting started. First things first, we have a new recruit. This is Y/n. You all know her, but she’s going to be joining us. You’ll need a codename.” Techno states, and Y/n thinks a moment as they stare at her.

“Dolos. I’ll go with Dolos.” Techno nods, eyes flashing with an unknown emotion before returning to their usual blankness.

“Okay. Now that that’s over with, is there anything in particular you guys wanted to discuss? Any new information or governments?” 

Phil nods, standing as he stands from the chair and speaks to the group. Y/n zones out a little for the rest of the meeting, nodding along but not really listening. Soon, it’s time to go and they’re all standing, the sound of chairs scraping on the floor loudly and Ranboo’s laughter at something Niki said echoes through the small space.

“Y/n, can I speak to you alone.” It’s not a question, and the woman swallows thickly as she follows the piglin hybrid into a small room that connects to the main one.

“So why Dolos? I mean, of everything you could’ve chosen, why’d you choose Dolos?” He asks, standing against the door to the room, blocking her in.

“Ah, well- you see, I’ve been told I’m good at deceiving people and that I’m so good at it, no one ever knows until I tell them, and even then they don’t believe me. I think that it’s a good codename, that’s all.” She stutters out, and Techno’s eyes narrow.

“I’m not easily fooled. If you’re lying, or you’re here as a spy, I’ll figure it out. And then not even Phil will be able to save you. Do you understand me?” He grunts out, standing over her with his sword held in his hand.

She nods and all but teleports out of the room to get away as quick as possible. He looks after her, seeing the disappointed look on Phil’s face outside and the confused glances from Niki and Ranboo. He steps out of the room as well and leaves the meeting hall without another word. 

It’s a week before anyone hears directly from Y/n again, and when they do it’s not for reason they would have ever expected. 

“I need your help.” Techno takes in the sight of the blood soaked clothing that covers the young woman.

“What happened?” He’s bewildered, the first time he’s been surprised in a long time.

“It’s not my blood. Most of it’s from the people we were fighting, but some of it’s his.” She points behind her where Phil stands, holding up a severely injured Tommy.

“Come on.” Techno grunts, ears twitching. The voices chime in, but he pushes them aside. 

“Set him on the couch.” Phil lays him down gently and gets to work brewing potions for the young boy. 

Y/n sits next to him, clutching his hand tightly with one of hers as she continues putting pressure on the gaping wound in his stomach. Her striped tail swishes nervously on the floor behind her and the large black ears lay back against her head.

“Get his shirt off. I need to sew it up.” Techno has his sleeves rolled up to the elbow as he comes over with a small first aid kit.

Y/n uses her sharp nails to cut away the stomach section of Tommy’s shirt, revealing the ugly looking gash. She pales at the sight of it, getting up and running to the bathroom to most likely vomit. Techno only sighs as he gets to work, wiping off the dried blood around the wound and starting to stitch it up. Tommy shifts uncomfortably on the couch, crying out at the needle threading in and out of his skin. 

Once done, Phil shoves the healing potion in Tommy’s face, which he drinks and then promptly passes out. Y/n comes back from the bathroom, hair tied back from her face.

“What happened?” Techno asks, standing in front of her.

“We were running through the woods, having fun- y’know, kid things- when we came across a small group of people. They started to attack us, and we started to fight back, thinking there weren’t anymore of them. Well, we were wrong. Very wrong. We wouldn’t have escaped if it wasn’t for Phil. Before we got away though, they said something like ‘down with the order’. I don’t know what they meant though. It was hard to understand them through their masks.” Y/n spews out and Techno only stares at her.

“‘Down with the order’? That sounds like they know something. What did they look like? Any distinct markings for kingdoms or anything?” Techno says softly.

She shakes her head. “Nothing that I could see, unless I missed it. I could probably lead you back to the place we fought at. I don’t know if more came to collect the bodies or not.” 

“Take me there. But first, go get cleaned up. We don’t need you walking around drenched in blood.” Techno says, nodding to the bathroom. 

One shower and change of clothes later, the pair are on their way to where Y/n and Tommy were attacked. Techno notices her fidgeting more than usual, constantly looking around them and watching as she jumps at the smallest of noises. He chalks it up to having been just attacked and they continue walking.

She stops in a clearing and he stands beside her. No sign of bloodied bodies is anywhere to be found. In fact, there’s no evidence a fight even occurred here. No blood spots on the ground, no scrapes in the ground, no disturbance of wildlife.

“Are you sure this is the place?” He turns to look at her, but she’s gone. Suddenly, something hits him from behind and the last thing he sees is Y/n, crying softly as someone holds onto her.

Techno slowly opens his eyes, registering the cold metal against his wrists and multitude of people surrounding him. The voices scream out in rage- rage at Y/n for getting them captured, rage at himself for allowing this to happen, anger for not trying to stop him and Y/n from being captured. They’re angry at a lot of things, and he grunts as he feels a headache coming on.

Y/n stirs in the chair across from him, whimpering softly and her tail waves behind her slowly. “Where-”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you need to tell us who the rest of the members of your little club is, or else you both die. Tell us, and you live. It’s that simple.” A voice speaks out, a young man with brown hair and light eyes.

He rests a sword on Y/n’s shoulder and looks Techno in the eyes. He says nothing, glaring at the man instead.

“Are you going to tell me? If not, then I guess I’ll need to encourage you to do so.” The young man sighs, and takes out a knife, grabs hold of Y/n’s tail and presses the knife against the base of it.

Y/n screams loudly, and Techno hates the sound of it more than any other sound he’s heard. The voices seem to hate it as well, yelling at him to just tell the man the names of the other members to end it.

“Fine.” Techno gives in. 

The young man smiles, dropping Y/n’s tail and wiping the knife off on her shirt. “Oh good! That’s very good.” 

“Don’t do it. It’s not worth it. My life’s not worth it.” Y/n mumbles, tears falling down her face as she clenches onto the armrests of the chair tightly.

“You might know one of them. His name is Zephyrus. Has black wings, wears lots of green. Another one is named Lethe. He’s half enderman. Good luck catching him though. The last one is Nemesis. You might never find her though. She spends most of her time underground.” Techno states and Y/n almost laughs at the use of the codenames.

“You’re lying.”

The young man holds the knife to Y/n’s throat and presses gently, causing a small trickle of blood to run down her neck. “You have one more chance to tell me their names before I kill her and then you. I’ll give you to the count of ten. Ten…” Techno growls at the man before him, the sight of his knife pressed against the woman's throat more than angering.

“I told you. Those are their names. It’s not my fault if you don’t believe me. Now let her go. I don’t even like her. Killing her wouldn’t get me to reveal anything.” Techno says calmly.

The man considers this, pausing his counting. “You’re still lying. I saw you help her and her friend, the blonde. I’m surprised the cut didn’t kill him, to be honest. I think I’ll have to go back to your cabin when I’m done here and finish the job.” 

Steam is basically pouring out of Techno’s ears and his eyes glow a bright red. “Don’t fucking touch him.” 

“Yes! I will, unless you tell me the real names of the other members of your little club.” He releases Y/n’s head from his grip, and pulls his knife away from her neck. 

“Phil, Niki, and Ranboo. Those are their names. Now let her go.” Techno growls and Y/n shakes her head.

“He’s lying. Those aren’t their names. There’s not even more than one other member of the group. The third member of the group is named Dream. He’s currently in prison for killing several people and blowing up a country not once, but twice as well as manipulating kids. He’s the only other member of the group.” Y/n says, hoping that they don’t know she’s lying and buy her bluff. 

The god currently sits in prison, waiting out his days monotonously. They would definitely all die the minute they try and kill him- if they even do get to him, considering Sam would kill them the minute they step foot in the prison.

“Finally, someone here is telling the truth. You’re going to give me the exact coordinates of where the prison is, and then you two are going to stay here while we go kill him.” Y/n gives him the coordinates and the man is almost bouncing in joy. “For your sake, we better not be walking into a trap. Let’s go boys.” They leave the room and Y/n sighs, her head hanging forward heavily, as if her neck can’t hold itself up anymore.

“What was that?” Techno asks and she shrugs.

“I told you. People don’t believe I’m capable of lying to them. They’re all going to die trying to get to Dream, or he’s going to kill them himself.” Y/n yawns.

“Yeah, and we need to get out of here in case some of them survive.” Techno says, struggling against the restraints holding him to the chair and eventually manages to break them.

“Alright, let’s get you out of here.” Techno mumbles, picking the lock on Y/n’s restraints and lifting her up easily in his arms.

The maze of hallways is nearly impossible to escape, but they do it somehow and step outside to a snowy tundra. The wind blows frozen ice shards through the air and it bites at their skin. They were stripped of gear and their cloaks. The cold is no match for Techno, who produces enough body heat to stay warm enough, but Y/n shivers in his arms and presses her face against his chest in an effort to keep warm.

Techno’s communicator beeps as it regains signal, and he works it out of his pocket, seeing the messages from Phil and quickly shoots one back with their coordinates and a request for blankets.

Looking around, the only shelter Techno can find until Phil arrives is the building they came out of but that’s not an option in case the people come back. Techno settles for sitting on the ground and hugging the woman to his chest, doing his best to protect her from the wind and cold. 

“Oh my god…” Phil says as he lands in front of the pair, quickly grabbing Y/n and wrapping the cloak around her.

“Take her back to my cabin. She needs to get warmed up and is going to probably need stitches in her tail.” Phil nods, passing his sword to Techno.

“Will you be fine walking back? I can zip right back here to get you. Tommy’s healed and can look after Y/n while I do so.” 

Techno shakes his head. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. After all, you need to check on Ranboo and Niki. Make sure they’re okay. We’re not extremely far from the cabin, I’ll make it back before the end of the night. Now go already.” Techno says and Phil nods, taking off quickly with Y/n.

He looks back at the building they were in, and heads back inside. If there’s anyone left here, they’ll pay for what happened.

It’s a few days before Techno comes back and Philza spends the time either worrying over it or about the worsening condition of Y/n, who seems to have developed a bad cold or flu or hypothermia or all of it, really, as well as making sure Tommy doesn’t rip his stitches trying to do stupid stuff. When Techno does come back, he’s covered in blood and doesn’t even stop to talk to the members of the syndicate sitting in the living room or even wash up, instead going straight for the room where Y/n is sleeping and peeking in.

“She’s not doing well at all. I stitched her tail up, but she’s developed a fever and is still freezing cold all the time and isn’t getting any better, even with a ton of healing potions. I don’t know if she’s going to make it.” Phil mutters beside Techno and he only nods.

He steps out of the doorway and leaves to take a shower, taking extra care to scrub the blood out of his hair and changes into comfortable clothes. Peeking into Y/n’s room again, he sees her shivering underneath the blankets. Well no wonder she’s sick, she’s still freezing cold, he thinks to himself before opening the door further and stepping into the room. He climbs under the covers and Y/n instantly curls up to him, soaking in his natural warmth.

“Thank you, for getting me out of there.” She mutters, before falling back asleep.

“Anything for you.” He whispers, holding her tighter against him in an almost protective manner. 

Phil watches from the doorway, smiling as he watches Techno fall asleep curled up with her.

Tagged: 

@thegeekisheere

[brittanyslibrary]

Small Victories ➤ Levi Ackerman

Summary: The special training course you opted into was fast paced, exhausting, and downright brutal. Even so, you were determined to become a sorely needed field medic for the Survey Corps, knowing it would most likely lead to your demise.

You couldn’t lie, a part of you also just wanted to prove to Captain Levi that you were far more than just Titan bait…

You knew, going into this, you’d be on the front lines. Commander Erwin had informed you the day he went over your file that you would be stationed close to the Special Ops squad; where you were needed most.

You knew that, and yet, as you watched a soldier’s flailing legs disappear into the 10 meter’s mouth, heard his deafening screams piercing the humid air, smelled the irony scent of blood, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d been in over your head.

Perhaps Captain Levi had been right about you.

“All you medic types are the same,” he’d told you the first time he’d ever met you. “Self sacrificial, stubborn, and fucking stupid”

It was then that you decided you would prove him wrong.

You leaned over a fallen comrade, clinging to life despite the gaping chunk taken out of his thigh. He couldn’t have been older than seventeen, openly weeping for his mother as his body trembled.

I can’t leave him, I can’t leave him, I can’t leave him.

The rumbling of titan footsteps shook the ground beneath you, but you knew you’d lose your nerve if you turned to look at them ambling towards you. So, you opted to keep your face set as your hands worked on instinct.

His eyes were wide and pleading as he searched your immediate surroundings for any sign of the Special Ops Squad. You’d been separated from them when you saw the kid, amidst all the chaos, nearly lose his entire leg to a four meter titan.

You were grateful they’d taught you how to slay the ugly bastards, but you could hardly perform your medical duties while killing the titans that were heading straight for you.

And if you didn’t stop the bleeding soon….

“You’re alright, you’re gonna be fine,” your assurances left your lips like a mantra while you wound thick, cotton bandages over his thigh.

“They’re coming…they’re coming straight for us,” he wailed.

“Let them come, but I’ll be damned if you’re gonna give up when we’ve still got a fighting chance” you snapped, tying the bandage as tight as you could. “You’re gonna have to lean on me and use your other leg. I can’t carry you to the cart like this” you informed him.

By now, both of your clothes were soaked in his blood. As he hobbled to the abandoned cart, where your horse was waiting to pull it, you could practically feel the titans on top of you.

You could picture their smiling faces, eager to devour you.

The boy, who’s name you learned to be Asmund, scooted as far back onto the cart as he could with his busted leg. Hope bloomed in your chest as you tossed your supply bag beside him.

You were going to make it.

He was screaming again, but not for the sorry state of his leg. He was screaming your name, urging you to hurry because there was a titan directly behind you and if you didn’t get your ass onto the horse it was going to-

You felt its fingers wind themselves around your shoulders, upper arms and torso. It squeezed you in its palm, causing your eyes to bulge and silencing the scream that sat poised on your tongue.

You were done for, you knew that much. All that was left to do was close your eyes and think of him, the man who would, no doubt, blame himself for the loss of your life.

The first time you’d offered to help the Captain with his paperwork, he’d scoffed at the notion and told you to leave him alone.

You brought tea the next time, and he finally allowed you the allotted space in his office, giving you your own personal stack of papers to date and check.

“Your lack of sleep is going to catch up with you, Captain” you’d told him as you dipped your pen in the ink well. “You’re pushing your body too far when you only allow it a few hours’ rest. I’m surprised you’ve made it this long without fainting, truthfully”

You worried for him the way a spouse would worry after their partner, but you never wanted to admit that to yourself.

“Yeah? So what?” he paused his furious pen strokes to level you with a glare.

“You should take better care of yourself,” you murmured gently.

“You should mind your own damn business” was his curt reply.

You weren’t certain if it was the reflection of the candle flame or the shadows on his face playing tricks, but you could have sworn you saw a blush rise to his cheeks.

“Nice work!” Petra commended you with a slap on the back and a grin on her face. Out of Levi’s Squad, she was by far the most welcoming.

“Yeah, you almost beat my time. Too bad I’m far more skilled than anyone here” Oluo smirked from his seat against a tree trunk.

You’d done well for yourself in training, only having two years to complete your cadet training rather than the usual four granted to everyone else. You were much older than them, as well, and stuck out like a sore thumb. So, admiring your handy work in the form of slain titan dummies, you were rather proud.

“You used too much gas,” Levi drawled, coming up to kick at one of your near empty canisters.

His eyes were narrowed as he glared at you, waiting for a proper response.

“I’m sorry Captain, I..I guess I hadn’t realized how much I’d been using” you winced as his glare sharpened.

“You didn’t realize, huh,” he circled you like a predator, eyeing your taut form as he did so. “Perhaps you’ll realize it when you’re halfway down a disgusting titan’s gullet. Perhaps you’ll realize when you’re stranded in the middle of an open plain and crushed under one of their feet”

He stopped, suddenly, directly in front of you. He was so close you could make out the dark circles under his eyes and the lines at his brow.

“A stupid mistake, I can always count on that from you” he spoke your name as if it were an insult. All the while, his face showed no sign of anything but irritation.

You hated that you cared so much about what he thought of you.

“I’ll do better next time” you whispered, voice hoarse.

“Outside the walls, there won’t be a next time!” his volume had grown steadily, as he was all but shouting now. “You get careless and then you’re dead. You get yourself killed out there, and we lose you, and then that’s another fucking life…wasted”

The others had enough sense to ditch this situation when it first began, which had left you and Levi by yourselves between the trees.

He quickly turned away, crossing the grounds swiftly enough that you barely had time to analyze what the hell he’d just come out with.

The Captain cared about all his soldiers, you assured yourself to quell the pounding in your chest.

It probably meant nothing.

You heard your name again, this time from a completely different direction.

.. The titan’s jaws were just below you as you dangled from its grasp. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t even think of anything besides the smell of the gaping mouth you were about to be shoved into.

And Levi, your Captain, a man who was so gentle if you could just break through the tough outer shell he hid behind.

He was calling out to you, desperation you’d never heard from him before apparent in his shouts.

You caught a glimpse of him, swords drawn and determination set in his grey eyes. He was fast, but you knew he wouldn’t be fast enough.

You accepted this as the hot tears fell slowly down your cheeks.

.. “I enjoy your company, Captain Levi” you confessed to him from your seat at the other side of his desk. The paperwork lay abandoned in front of you, as you had far better things to look at than the ink on those pages.

Levi coughed and nearly dropped his pen at your sudden proclamation. His eyes had grown wider than usual, and he outright refused to look at you, acknowledge what you’d said.

“You don’t have to say anything, I understand” you spoke slowly, solemnly. “It’s just..you aren’t like anyone I’ve met before. You try so hard to shut people out with your harsh words and constant glaring, but you care far more than you let on. I think, I think you’re the first person in this damn regiment that actually gave a shit about me”

You noticed his knuckles had turned white with the force that he was gripping his pen.

The expedition was tomorrow; you might never get a chance to tell him this.

“Maybe in another life, maybe if we had more time, maybe….we could have loved each other” you pushed the seat out from under you, standing straight as a pin.

Once the words had left your lips to hang tensely in the air between you two, you were unable to gather enough nerve to look at him.

“I just wanted you to know that, in case something happens to me when we-“

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you” he rasped, head bowed over the page, pen still gripped in his hand.

“How can you be so sure?” you smiled sadly.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you, because I….because I won’t let it”

The conviction laced in his words left no room for you to doubt him.

You’d done your duty, left with no regret about stopping to help that young cadet that had an entire life ahead of him.

But you did regret leaving behind the Captain, leaving him with your awkward confession and never, ever getting to find out what his lips tasted like.

As you fell into the titan’s mouth, you thought Levi probably tasted like the tea he drank.

Everything ached and burned when you came to. Your eyes blinked heavily at a dark ceiling, your lips parting slightly as the warmth from the sunlight streaming in soaked into your cold skin.

You must have been back home, back inside the walls. The thin, white sheets and itchy cot you were laying on was enough to know that. How could you have possibly made it back?

The titan ate you, didn’t it?

“I told you,” you jumped at the figure beside you, groaning as your body protested the sudden movement.

You turned your head slowly, shocked and incredibly relieved to see none other than the Captain himself sitting on a wooden chair beside your bed.

His body was hunched forward, arms folded over his knees and shoulders pulled forward. His eyes immediately softened when you smiled at him, and he let out a ragged breath.

“How?” was all you could manage to choke out. The familiar stirring in your chest had become an erratic rhythm of pounding and fluttering.

“I almost didn’t make it in time,” his gaze fell to his lap. “You were in its mouth by the time I made it to you. If I’d sliced its jaw open a moment later, you would have been down its throat” he squeezed his eyes shut, as if the memory was replaying before him.

You sucked in a breath, wondering just how far he’d gone to ensure your safety.

“You saved me….when anyone else would have thought it to be a lost cause. You didn’t give up on me..” you trailed off as your vision began to blur with unshed tears.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Just when you thought he’d take his leave, he spoke again.

“I don’t know what love feels like, but I know that I don’t want to fucking lose you”

All that brutal training, all those insults when you’d made careless mistakes, all those nights spent filling out paperwork at the same desk, they all finally had meaning.

How could you not have read the signs before? How could you have not noticed the subtle way he cared for you?

You reached a shaky hand forward, grasping his calloused one in a gentle caress.

“You don’t have to,” the promise in your eyes when he finally spared you a glance grounded him.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he stuttered, a fierce blush over his pale face. “I’ve never been good at this bullshit” he muttered.

“We can learn together..if you’d like to move forward with this” you bit at your lower lip, face hot and heart lodged in your throat.

Levi’s lips curved up into the tiniest smile you’d ever seen, but it was a smile nonetheless. A small victory.

“Fine, just…don’t tell Hange. They placed a bet with Erwin, and I don’t wanna give them the satisfaction of winning….”

** did tumblr always have this stupid word block limit bc that's whack. I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible without being vague, hope y'all enjoyed !! **

[ragingbookdragon]

Panthera Felidae et Celeritas

Barry Allen x Meta!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Gonna make a second part...sometime...later...Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

The meta-human was fast. And while he wasn’t as fast as Barry, he’d managed to snap the speedster’s femur with a well-placed kick. Barry went down, holding his leg whilst he grit his teeth and shoved his bone back into place so it’d heal; Hal landed beside him, ready to pick up the slack and protect his best friend.

Striding towards them, the meta had a sick grin on his face as he ribbed, “I’m going to use your spine as a toothpick, Lantern.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Hal shot back, baring his teeth as he raised his arm, ready to form a construct when a hulking figure of orange, black, and white fur darted from around the corner of a building, sprinting right up to the meta.

It reared onto its hind legs, one big front paw swiping down harshly at the meta, connecting to the middle of its back, and both Hal and Barry watched the man’s eyes widen in first a look of shock, the next of pain as a sickening crack sent the meta to the ground, upper body spazzing as their lower body stilled.

“I can’t feel my back!” he screamed in agony and the beast bent down, its face next to the man’s and opened its mouth, snarling fiercely, flashing long, razor sharp canines. The meta whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and the beast took one last look at him before turning its golden eyes onto Barry and Hal.

They stared back with equal mixtures of fear, but the beast chuffed and turned tail, bounding away as quickly as it had come.

“What the fuck just happened?” Hal asked.

Barry shook his head, blue eyes wide as he said, “I have no idea…but I think there’s a tiger loose in Central City.”

***

There were big cat sightings all over Central City—cheetahs, cougars, jaguars, leopards, snow leopards, ligers, lions, tigers; someone even said they saw a saber tooth tiger, which Barry highly doubted, but sure enough when he’d gotten to the scene and tested the DNA, it linked to a few scientific discoveries and genomes closely relating to the extinct beast.

He’d half a mind to bring the League in on the discoveries, but the animals weren’t killing people, and he was still reeling on how to explain to his team that there were animals running around that weren’t even native to the US, nor having populations in the state. Oddly enough though, the animals were never seen in the same place at the same time. Each sighting was on a different night with a different big cat, telling Barry that this had to be some type of trainer releasing the cats on particular times.

He spent almost an hour, well a human hour, not a speedster hour, triangulating territory across Central City before he finally found a common location inside the sightings—an old amusement park that had been shut down a few years before, waiting on renovations when someone would finally buy it.

So, what did Barry do? What Barry did best—he went alone to see which kitty cat he could find first.

***

The entire park was eerie, dark and creaking, rusted metal and cracked plastic everywhere. It almost made him think of those post-apocalyptic video games. Still though, he quelled his fears, though they boiled in his stomach, and hopped over the barriers, quietly walking the silent park.

Every noise had the hair on the back of his neck rising, turning in circles to look behind him at whatever it was, and at one point, he briefly considered calling for Superman—nothing gave you nerves of steel like the Man of Steel.

Shaking his head, he reaffirmed his own abilities. He could do this. He was fast enough to escape danger, he just had to sense it coming.

The sound of nails on metal echoed in Barry’s ears and he shivered, peeking around the corner of an abandoned booth to see a sleek black jaguar scratching at a metal door until it shoved open, and it slipped inside.

His brows furrowed and he looked around before quickly following it, slipping inside the doorway. It led down a further hall and into a tunnel, and with the large metal pistons and wheels in the walls, he assumed it was the underneath of an out of order roller coaster.

Glancing down, he saw paw prints in the dusty ground that obviously hadn’t been disturbed in a couple decades. Barry frowned and continued down the hallway, coming around a corner.

The second he turned it, he ran smack dab into something, and he gasped, immediately shoving out. Whatever had run into him went to the ground with a pained grunt and he blinked in the darkness, looking down, surprise bleeding through him as a woman’s face cleared in the darkness.

Barry had so many thoughts running through his head, but their safety overrode it and he bent down, hauling her up as he whispered harshly, “Never mind what you’re doing here, we have to leave now.”

“What?” she hissed back, letting him tug her down the hallway. “Who are you!”

“My name is Barry. I work at CCPD.” He glanced back at her, well, over her shoulder. “There’s a big cat somewhere down here and we need to get away. If my calculations are right, there are more around.”

“Wait, you know?” she questioned, feet skidding to a halt and Barry looked back at her.

“What do you mean? That the big cats are hiding around here?” she nodded, and he tipped his head. “Yeah. I figured it out with the police scans and public sightings.”

Her jaw started to go slack, and he tugged her again. “C’mon, we have to get out of here before that panther comes back.”

“It’s a jaguar.”

He stopped. “What?”

She pulled her wrist out of his grip. “It’s a black jaguar not a panther.”

Barry cocked a brow. “How do you know?”

“I…” she seemed hesitant, diverting her gaze. “I can’t tell you right now.” She hurried past him. “But you don’t have to worry. There are no cats here.”

“But my calculations—”

“Are wrong, Blake. There are no cats here.”

“It’s Barry,” he retorted. “Barry.”

“Whatever your name is,” she scowled, pushing the door open so they could both get out.

As they did, he pulled out his phone and shone the flashlight upwards so he could see her features. “Who are you?”

She blinked. “It’s not important.”

“It is. If you know about the big cats roaming the city and hurting people, then I need to know.”

Her face pinched. “They’re not hurting people. They’re helping.”

Barry recalled the meta-human incident—the meta’s spine had been broken in one swipe of that tiger’s paw. “Breaking spines and other important body parts isn’t helping people.”

“It’s not like I’m eating the criminals!” she shouted, then slapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide and Barry gaped at her.

“What did you just say?”

She shook her head. “Nothing! I didn’t say anything!”

“No, you said something alright. It sounded like you said you weren’t eating the criminals.” He leaned closer. “Who are you and what do you know about the cats?”

For a moment, she merely gazed at him, then she let out a heavy sigh, shoulders drooping as she resigned herself. “Alright…I’ll talk.” She exhaled. “My name is (Y/N) (L/N). I’m a part-timer at the STAR Labs research facility. A few months ago…I was helping one of the scientists identify a common DNA strand found in the Panthera family and how it would react if spliced together in a new animal when—”

She trailed off, unsure of herself and Barry encouraged, “When?”

(Y/N) sighed again. “I don’t know. There was a mistake with the experiment. Some kind of electromagnetic shock that caused an entire building outage.”

“What else?” he questioned, and she shrugged.

“When we went inside after the power was back on, the test subject was deceased. Doctor Lesia asked me to clean up and I did, but I must’ve gotten contaminated somehow. Maybe through an open wound? I don’t know.”

She inhaled, meeting Barry’s blue eyes. “The DNA sequencing experiment didn’t fail though.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked curiously and she looked towards the door.

“Give me a moment.” As she walked back inside, she quickly stuck her head out and said, “Don’t be alarmed and don’t run, okay?”

He was wary of that and after a few moments, he heard scratching at the door and the door handle bent down, then the door pulled open, and the black jaguar bounded out.

Barry was quick to step back with a sharp, “Shit!” but the cat didn’t do anything, it merely sat down and looked at him; he took a closer look, eyes widening and he breathed, “Oh my God…it resequenced your DNA.”

She nodded, making a low growling noise, then disappeared back inside, only to reappear herself once more. “I’ve been able to transform into any cat whose DNA sequence belongs to the Panthera family.” (Y/N) shook her head. “I have to transform at least once a day, or it’ll happen without my control, and I can’t risk it happening at my job or out in public. So, I come here and transform, then run around Central City.”

“And fight crime,” he surmised, and she tipped her head side to side.

“It didn’t start out like that, honest. I realized I had all this energy pent up and running and scouring seemed to get it out.” (Y/N) blinked. “The first time I ever fought ‘crime’ was when I stopped a meta human from attacking Flash and Green Lantern.”

Barry stared at her. “You broke the meta-human’s spine.”

She winced. “I…didn’t realize I’d hit him with that much strength…but it was that or risk him hurting another hero and I didn’t want that to happen.” (Y/N) looked at him. “Please…please don’t tell anybody you know this. I’ll stop, just please don’t tell anyone. If you do, who knows what government science squad will come after me and kidnap me.”

Her face was the picture of pure terror and she reached out, grabbing Barry’s jacket, tears welling in her eyes as she begged again, “Please Barry, don’t tell anyone.”

Barry took her hands, squeezing them gently. “I won’t. I promise.”

She blinked tearfully and asked, “You won’t?”

“No, I won’t tell.” He smiled at her and fiddled with the ring on his hand, showing her the lightning symbol on it. “Not after I owe you for saving me and Green Lantern.”

(Y/N) eyes widened, and she gaped at the ring, then at his face. “You—you’re him…the Flash.”

He nodded. “Yeah.” Barry sighed, looking around, seeing the moon high in the sky. “Look, it’s late right now. Why don’t we both go home for the night and meet up sometime later?”

“To do what?” she questioned, and he met her eyes.

“Well, I doubt we’ll be able to undo the resequencing of your DNA. There’s no telling how damaging it could be to you if we try.” He thought for a moment, then decided, “So how about this, we meet up, and we’ll see about training you.”

(Y/N)’s face pinched. “But I’m not a speedster?”

“True, but technically you’re like me. You’re a meta-human now.” Barry smiled, wide and toothy. “And if there’s one thing I know how to do—it’s help meta-humans control their powers.”

She searched his gaze for a few moments, then she nodded. “Alright…that seems like a fair plan.” (Y/N) held out her hand and Barry took it, shaking it firmly. “Glad to be apart of the team, Flash.”

“Glad to have you, er…” his brows furrowed. “Do you have a name yet?”

(Y/N) pursed her lips in thought, then her face lit up and she replied, “Panthera.” Barry snorted and she flushed. “I know…I’m a nerd.”

He shook his head. “So am I.”