#whiplash chapter 8

[lorainedoesthings]

Coming on to say that chapter 5 is… a thing. I’m not even going to lable it, it’s its own thing. I’m very scared of it. It’s going in the opposite direction from which it started.

[sleep-deprived-luka]

I AM DONE

[darklordofthesimp]

Anything VII (König x Reader)

The 7th instalment in the Anything-Verse

Main Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - 7 - Part 8

Like the characters? Read their fics below!

Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist

Series Summary:  A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.

A/N: I’ve already got the next chapter mapped out hee hee

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Unrequited Pining || Tension

Warning: Graphic Language

You’d barely slept, how could you?

Though you supposed that you should have been used to broken rest, this time it wasn’t for the usual reasons. There were no nightmares that clawed at your mind, no anger that made you sweat- but, there was paranoia. 

There was crippling anxiety that had you wanting to hide beneath the covers, there was fear that gripped you by the throat. The sensation of being stunned was overwhelming, your thoughts were scattered and your world was tipped upside down.

Everything that you believed, everything that you had come to terms with, it was all a lie. 

You risked a glance at the clock, groaning as you realised that you’d have to get up. It was a mission, more so than usual. Dragging your sorry ass from the safety of your sheets was proving difficult, but the knowledge that you’d have to go train with König made it all the more impossible. 

You took a deep breath in as you pulled your top over your head. It was different now, the lines were blurred and König might not be the enemy that you imagined him to be. If there was anyone that was going to help you unravel this with the same urgency that you felt, it was going to be him. 

He’d do anything to prove himself, anything to stay as a sniper.

He wanted to keep the life he’d stolen from you. 

Your stomach turned at the thought, the words weren’t sitting as right as they used to. The anger that occupied your chest with relentless heat has begun to cool as of late. If König was truly misinformed, it would mean that he really was just trying to do his job. 

It meant that he was paying the consequences for someone else's misdeeds. 

It meant that he was also a victim. 

A chill ran down your spine and the fire in your chest reignited. Maybe he was a victim, but he sure as fuck didn’t look like one- he didn’t look like you. 

You groaned as you stepped through your broken doorway, the reminder of how unhinged König could truly be was unwelcome as always. You thought that the Austrian kicking the door down would terrify you, it told you that you were never safe no matter where you locked yourself up. Instead, the fact that he’d done it to ensure your safety confused you. 

You mulled over it as you walked towards the gym, mindlessly stepping one foot in front of the other. 

A couple of minutes spent trying to decipher how you felt towards König felt like hours, any small bead of energy expended suddenly blew out to exhaustion. The man was an enigma who left you stranded in your own thoughts, flailing to find land.

“Good morning, Birdy.” 

You forced yourself not to flinch away from König’s voice as you stood deathly still in the doorway. The man offered you a small wave from inside the gym, his arm stretched over his head as he loosened his muscles. 

You didn’t want to gawk at him, honestly. It was just kind of hard not to. 

He was larger than life, something that would never fail to amaze you. The sheer size of him was one thing, but his presence took up the rest of the space in the room. The breath in your lungs dissipated into nothing as you took in his visage. 

“Good morning, König,” you managed to say softly. 

You both froze for a moment, the gentle return of his greeting had caught the pair of you off guard. You supposed that there had been a shift between the two of you over the past few weeks. 

But the way you felt about the man before you gave you whiplash.

Torn between hatred, fear, familiarity and comfort, you wished you could just chalk him down to a psychotic beast that wished you harm. 

But he wasn’t and he didn’t. 

The path your mind had begun to wander reminded you of the revelation you’d come to. 

König cleared his throat, slowly standing upright as if he didn’t want to shatter the fragile friendliness between you both. Finally, you stepped into the room, one heavy foot after the other and your heart in your throat. You wanted to break the silence between you before that unnamed tension could grow, feeding on the quiet and everything that went unsaid. 

“What did you have planned today?” You questioned with a raised brow, “anything torturous and terrifying?” 

The Austrian snorted softly through his nose, crossing his arms over his chest. The slight smirk that pulled his lips upward had your breath catching in your throat. He cast his eyes downward before flicking that jade gaze back up to meet yours.  

“Isn’t everything I do “torturous” and “terrifying” according to you?” König said, the playful tone was obvious but tentative.

You took a deep breath. He wasn’t diminishing the incident, he was finding some semblance of humour between the both of you. You swallowed the small drops of rage that threatened to open the floodgates. 

“No,” you said, pushing your hands into the pockets of your hoodie. “That’s just you, I meant the training this time.” 

You watched the shift in König’s features, the way his shoulders relaxed and his eyes softened. The olive branch had been extended, received and the see-saw of emotions between you had finally tipped to fall on the opposite end. 

“Well,” König offered a small smile, “I promise that the training today will not be as scary as I am.” 

You tried to ignore the genuine relief that flooded through your chest, tried to maintain the easy-going air that had settled in the space between you. Despite your best efforts, anxiety threaded itself across your throat as you stepped closer to the looming figure before you. 

König slowly uncrossed his arms, sensing the shift in your attitude. It seemed like he always knew, even when you said nothing and your face didn’t change, he knew. Sometimes it irked you, but at times like these when he could read you and adjust, you appreciated it. 

“I promise,” he reiterated, that jade gaze as soft as ever. 

You took in a shaky breath, then released. “Okay.”

“Okay?” König repeated, taking a step toward you. 

“Okay.” 

And right there and then was the first time you’d seen him smile. 

It was brief, barely a flash of his teeth as he quickly regained control of himself, but it was enough. You knew that you’d never be able to dispel that image from your mind, you knew that you’d be thinking about it as you went through the never ending cycle of wondering whether you hated him or not. 

You knew that you’d want to see it again. 

A shiver ran along the length of your spine and an unfamiliar heat spread across your neck. You cleared your throat in an attempt to clear your thoughts. It might have been unsuccessful in that regard but it did get König to step into action.

“Right,” he said with a sigh, scanning the space around him. “The sooner we get started the sooner you can escape the torture.” 

Now it was your turn to snort as you took your sneakers off. “If only it were that easy.” 

König rolled his eyes, approaching you with slow and lazy steps that had your heart racing. You straightened up, letting him move closer until he was barely a breath away. The moment that you had both shared in the kitchen raced across your mind, the scene beginning to look dangerously similar- hopefully Graves wouldn’t appear around the corner to trigger your fight or flight reflex this time.  

“Can I help you?” You managed to choke out, dropping your gaze from his. 

“Uh, no.” There was mirth in his voice. The man took a step backward, his hands raised with his palms facing outward. “Are you not ready?” 

You tried to not look at the size of his fingers, you tried not to remember how they felt wrapped around your throat. 

“Ready?” You stammered. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact, frozen as you stared at those fucking hands. They’d done so much damage, so much. 

You tried not to remember. 

Saint had always told you to replace a negative interaction with a positive interaction whenever you’d begun to spiral. When you remembered how hard his eyes had been when you'd been on that roof, you tried to remember how soft they were when he spoke to you now. 

Your mind fell back to the moment in the kitchen. 

“I’m ready.” You nodded, taking in a deep breath as he moved in close again. The scent of him flooded your senses, the faint recollection of his deodorant, something sweet and woodsy. 

Those hands slowly lowered and you watched as they fell to rest on your forearms. 

You remembered them holding you down, pinning you to the concrete as the weight of him pressed into your stomach. But, you also remembered those same fingers holding you ever so softly as he inspected you for burns. 

You let loose a soft breath, forcing your gaze upward. He was already watching your face, his eyes scanning your features for any sign of serious distress. 

“Well,” König murmured, his words tasting of the caramel latte he’d been sipping on earlier. “You going to take me down or not, kleine vogel?” 

You raised a brow, “you don’t need to cuss me out, I’m getting there.” 

The man frowned for a short moment, mouth opening and closing as he fought to find the appropriate response. “I did not swear at you?” 

The sentence was more of a question than a statement and while he was stuck in his confusion, you saw opportunity. 

You swung your hands around the grip that he had on your forearms, digging your fingers into his skin instead. You dragged him towards you with a sudden jerk that took every ounce of strength that you had. 

For a moment, you were worried that the giant wouldn’t budge. However, his whole body fell forward as you dropped onto your back with him above you. Both your feet came up to rest on his pelvic bone, bracing as the entirety of his weight fell onto your legs. The momentum was your best friend with this movement, pulling his hands to your chest as you kicked him over your head. 

The sound of 300 pounds hitting the ground hard behind you had your heart soaring. Adrenaline was pumping through your system, propelling you to your feet as you spun to mount your victim. 

König’s face was contorted, teeth bared as he gritted them hard. His hands were above his shoulders, fists clenched and you could tell that you’d stunned him. 

Satisfaction flooded your being. 

You scrambled up the length of his body, pressing your weight onto him as you clenched your knees hard onto either side of his hips. Your hands came down to push against his wrists, pinning his body as best as you could. 

The silence between you both was only broken by the sounds of panting. König’s chest heaved beneath, shallow and quick breaths as his eyes slowly fluttered open to glare up at you. 

“That was rude,” he groaned. “Smart. But rude.” 

“Yeah, well,” you replied with a shrug, taking a moment to try and wet the dryness in your throat. “Fights are often unfair.” 

König’s eyes narrowed for a moment before conceding your point. “Yes. Yes, they are.” 

You’d seen the signs too late, the way his lips quirked upward before he ripped his hands from yours. You’d felt his fingers grip your waist but you were unable to react before the world tipped from beneath you. The floor met your back hard enough to banish the air from your chest and your body froze as you were spun right back into the disadvantage. 

A gasp ripped from your throat, eyes wide as you stared at the man now above you. His hair fell across his forehead, resting atop his lashes as he watched you through a hooded gaze. Neither of you said a word and you didn’t bother trying to fight him off. König made a show of slowly moving to grip your biceps, your fingers scrabbling uselessly against his forearms as he pressed you into the ground.

His body was tucked between your thighs, spreading your legs far enough apart that they were rendered useless from beneath him. You swallowed hard, struggling to catch your breath. 

“Very unfair,” he confirmed with a husky murmur. 

“It’s always unfair with you,” you rasped, your fingers gripping his skin tightly. “Always, König.”

König’s face fell, any trace of satisfaction turning into something akin to sorrow. He cast his gaze aside. 

“Perhaps,” he said. “ But, perhaps if you were prepared it wouldn’t have been so unfair.” 

You watched him carefully. 

“Wrong place, wrong time.” You whispered. 

König met your gaze again, observing you for a long moment before offering a hesitant nod. “Yes.” 

Maybe, this was your chance. This was the opportunity to talk to him about what you suspected, to hear his side of the story entirely. Maybe, if you could sift through the discrepancies between your stories and what his chain-of-command had told him, you could both unravel the mystery. 

Either someone was trying to kill you and used him as the weapon to do so or something bigger was at play. 

Maybe, both? 

“Speaking of,” you began shakily, your fingers nervously tapping against his skin. There was no real way to gently ease into the topic, you’d just have to drop the bomb. “Do you think that maybe the whole incident was a little too… convenient?” 

König fell completely still, his eyes baring into yours. 

You supposed that maybe you could have been a little more tactful. 

You swallowed nervously when his chest didn’t move to breathe, he was as still as a sniper watching for their target. He reminded you of a snake lying in wait, preparing to strike out at any given moment. Suddenly, you didn’t feel so confident that he was the one that you should have spoken to about it. 

The man said nothing and you’d begun to realise that he didn’t plan to. 

“I just mean that,” you scrambled for words, anxiety clawing at your throat when he only stared. “I just mean that maybe it wasn’t just an accident or a miscommunication, maybe they were using you as a way to get what they want.” 

König’s face didn’t change when he spoke. “And what would that be?” 

You hated how perfectly still he was. 

“To take me out.” You could barely spit out the sentence.

The mans grip tightened against your arms and the small amount of trust that you’d built between each other teetered on the edge of a proverbial cliff. Adrenaline dumped into your system when he took in a deep breath, clenching his jaw. His eyes never left yours, holding you captive not just physically but mentally. You were scrambling for air. 

“I think that you are overthinking,” he finally said, relaxing his grip and releasing the tension from his lungs. 

Your heart dropped. 

Overthinking? 

Why wouldn’t he want to investigate this further? It would exonerate him, it would relieve him of the guilt, it would make him innocent. 

“What?” You rasped, blinking as though it would clear your confusion. “How can you say that?” 

“Easily,” König said, sitting up. His demeanour was suddenly so cold. He let go of your arms, shooting you one last look before he attempted to stand up. “You’ve been through a traumatic event. Overthinking is normal.” 

Desperation clawed at your chest. Before you could stop yourself, you reached upward to snatch his hands. König’s fingers interlocked with yours and his eyes widened when you pulled him back toward you. Your hands were trapped between his and the floor once more, his face only a breath away. 

But you couldn’t even think about the proximity and, for once, you didn’t even care. 

How could he just dismiss you like that? 

How could he just try to leave without even hearing you out? 

“König,” you whispered pleadingly. “Please, just listen.” 

The man shook his head immediately, trying to pull his hands from your grip. You held on as tight as you can manage, his name falling from your lips over and over as you begged him to stay. You needed him to hear it, you needed him to help you. 

“Let go, Birdy,” his voice was firmer than you’d heard in months, the sound of it a shock to your system. How the tables had turned, this time you were not the one trying to escape. Regardless, you disobeyed, only tightening your hold on him. 

“Just tell me what happened, maybe we can work it out,” the words sounded desperate, even to you. You sounded like a lover pleading for a second chance to make the relationship work. You sounded like you were holding to your last tether of sanity. You sounded crazy. 

König’s face was hard when he tugged back again. “We already know what happened, Birdy.” 

“Listen to me-” 

“Let it go, Birdy.” 

“But if you just-” 

“Enough!” 

You recoiled, flinching as he yanked his hands from yours, breaking your grip as easily as tearing a cobweb. König’s fingers wrapped around your biceps, pushing you back against the floor, restraining you from getting a steady hold on him.

The man leaned down, jade eyes alight with something you’d never seen. He burned, the thunderous expression painted across his features warned you that his blood was simmering beneath his skin. 

“Enough,” König seethed, his voice dangerously quiet. 

Fear trickled down your spine. 

Your heart dropped. 

As you watched the Austrian soldier lean over you with a ferocity that rivalled that godforsaken night, you realised that in your desperation you had been so stupid. So, so, so fucking stupid. 

König wasn’t going to help you. 

König was in on it.

[itacats]

Butcher Shop Connection

FT: Simon x gn!reader

Warnings: DV, abuse, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

SUM: The fragile joy of connection with Simon is quickly overshadowed by the suffocating weight of home. Confronted by Tom’s cruelty, you struggle to protect yourself, both physically and emotionally, while clinging to the small glimmers of kindness Simon offers. In a world defined by shadows, hope flickers like a hesitant flame, but it’s a light you’re not ready to embrace—yet.

A/N: Ah, the emotional whiplash chapter. One moment, you’re swooning over rolled-up sleeves and car repairs, and the next, you’re wading through the muck of heartbreak and resilience. Hang tight; the rollercoaster isn’t over yet. 🎢

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 3 - Cracks in the Foundation

The moment you step through the front door, the warmth and joy from your encounter with Simon evaporate like dew under the harsh light of the morning sun. The house is quiet, but not in a comforting way—it’s the kind of silence that makes your chest tighten and your senses sharpen. The faint creak of the floor beneath your shoes feels deafening as you step into the kitchen.

Tom is there, leaning against the counter, arms crossed tightly over his chest. The shadows from the dim overhead light stretch across his face, making his expression even harder, more menacing. His eyes lock onto yours immediately, sharp and unrelenting. You can feel the judgment radiating from him, an oppressive weight settling on your shoulders.

"You’re late," he growls, his voice low and heavy, each syllable dripping with accusation.

Your heart races as you glance at the clock on the wall. It’s not that late—barely past eight—but you know it doesn’t matter. Tom’s moods don’t follow logic or reason; they’re a storm that sweeps in, indifferent to your explanations or pleas.

"I... I got stuck at the store," you begin, your voice trembling slightly. You hate how small it sounds, but before you can finish, he cuts you off.

"Out with someone else, are you?" he snaps, his voice rising. His face twists, his features contorted into something unrecognizable. "Who is it?"

The questions come at you like a barrage, cold and sharp, each one landing with a sting from his fists. You try to answer, to explain, but the words stick in your throat. Your mind flashes back to Simon—his gentle smile, the warmth in his eyes—and for a split second, you imagine what it would be like to tell Tom the truth. But you know better.

"Tom, please," you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. "It was just the car—"

"Don’t lie to me!" he shouts, slamming his hand down on the counter. The sound echoes through the room, and you flinch instinctively, your body betraying the fear you try so hard to conceal.

"I’m not lying," you say, your voice breaking. "Please, just—"

"What? Do you want kindness?" Tom interrupts, his lips curling into a cruel sneer. "You know kindness never looked good on me."

His words hit like a blow, the same venomous refrain you’ve heard countless times before. The bitterness in his tone is more cutting than the words themselves, a reminder of how far you are from the kindness you once hoped for in your life.

That night, you curl up on the couch, your knees drawn tightly to your chest. Silent tears trace cold paths down your cheeks as you replay the argument in your mind, each word cutting deeper than the last, the memory of his hands staining your skin in ugly hues. The house feels colder than ever, the darkness pressing in on you from every corner.

When morning comes, you force yourself to your feet, your body moving on autopilot. You reach for the makeup on the bathroom counter, your hands trembling slightly as you smooth the heavy foundation over the forming bruises on your cheek. It feels like a mask, a way to conceal not just the physical marks but the emotional scars that run much deeper. The person in the mirror doesn’t look like you anymore.

You step into the butcher shop later that day, the bell’s cheerful chime feeling oddly out of place against the weight in your chest. You paste on a smile, the same practiced expression you’ve perfected over time, and make your way to the counter.

Simon is there, his eyes lighting up as he spots you. But the excitement in his gaze dims slightly as he takes in your stiff posture, the way you shift uncomfortably as you dig into your bag for your wallet.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentle and full of concern. The question is simple, but the way he asks it feels different—like he truly wants to know, like he’s ready to hear whatever you have to say.

For a moment, you hesitate. The warmth in Simon’s voice feels like a balm against the chill that’s settled deep in your bones, and you’re tempted—so tempted—to tell him the truth. To let someone else carry the weight for a little while.

But then the walls go up, as they always do. You smile, the expression tight and forced, and shake your head. "I’m fine," you say, the words hollow even to your own ears.

Simon doesn’t press, but the concern in his eyes doesn’t fade. If anything, it deepens, and for a fleeting moment, you think he might not let the matter drop. There’s something about him—his quiet determination, the steady strength you’ve seen in the way he carries himself—that makes you wonder if he could be the one to finally break through your defenses.

But you can’t let him. Not now. Not yet.

As you leave the shop, you glance back over your shoulder. Simon is still watching you, his gaze steady and unwavering. In that brief moment, you allow yourself to imagine a life where kindness isn’t just a fleeting encounter but a constant presence. Where the warmth of someone like Simon could replace the cold reality of your world.

"Maybe one day," you think, the words both a hope and a prayer. For now, you carry the thought of Simon with you, a small light in the darkness that has become your reality.

Here's the current post schedule with some upcoming stories to look forward to!

Thank you to @ghostlythots for the extra tags that I should have added!

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters Read the Kaladin Chapters

As requested by anon. :)

I once did a post about Stormlight Archive characters reading the Stormlight Archive, which you can find here. This post is similar, except characters are only reading the Kaladin chapters.

(But if you're wondering WHERE Hesina & Lirin are, there're in the first post!)

[Stormlight Spoilers through Rhythm of War!]

1. Adolin

Adolin: So, uh, you and Shallan sure...had a time in those chasms, huh? Kaladin: W-We HAD to huddle together for warmth and stuff! Adolin: [eyes narrowing] Uh-huh. Kaladin: Are you mad? Adolin: Of course I'm mad! Adolin: We've been on TONS of adventures and you've NEVER cuddled ME for warmth! Kaladin: ... Kaladin: That's what you're mad about? Adolin: We are cuddling at the FIRST opportunity we get!

2. Shallan

Shallan: I know that you killed my brother. Shallan: But READING about you killing my brother... Shallan: That was a uniquely horrible experience. Kaladin: I-I had to though. He was killing everyone. Shallan (much too brightly): Oh I know! It's not like I haven't killed my own family members! Shallan: Just saying that if I could still successfully suppress memories, I'd be burying that one! [finger guns] Kaladin: ...This post is giving me whiplash.

3. Elhokar

Elhokar: Um, okay. Wow. Elhokar: So multiple of my guards--including Kaladin Stormin' Stormblessed--really did want to kill me! Elhokar: I was SUCH a bad king that even KALADIN STORMBLESSED wanted to kill me! Elhokar: I'd fall over dead if I hadn't already been MURDERED. Kaladin: I did save you, though. Kaladin: ...The first time, anyway. Kaladin: That has to count for something? Elhokar: Yes, and I was invested enough to see you completely lose it after my actual death so... Elhokar: Let bygones be bygones and all of that. Elhokar: But REALLY. Elhokar: So bad at kinging that even KALADIN STORMBLESSED was in the "kill him" party! Elhokar: Not good for my self-esteem, man. Elhokar: Not good.

4. Bridge 4

Teft: So, lad...that Honor Chasm scene, huh? Sigzil: We knew we were all miserable and angry; we did not know you came so close. Moash: Yeah, you idiot! That was the closest you ever came to dying--by your own hand! Probably the only way you COULD die! Lopen: And it would have meant you didn't meet me, the Lopen! That would have been a tragedy on top of a tragedy! Rock: And no stews either! Skar: What we're trying to say is that we're glad Syl stopped you. Drehy: Yeah. You saved all of us. Kaladin: Guys... Rlain: But also...maybe consider some of that therapy you invented. Lyn: Yeah, for real.

5. Thaidakar

Thaidakar: I should definitely recruit this guy for the Ghostbloods. Thaidakar: Always survives... Never gives up... Collects followers wherever he goes... Thaidakar: This guy could DOUBLE recruitment! Thaidakar: I just need a way to make the Ghostbloods seem honorable...

6. Taravangian

Taravangian: Wow, in a different life, you would have been in Kharbranth, studying medicine. Taravangian: Working at my hosptial. Taravangian: Where I killed people in the basement. Taravangian: ... Taravangian: Very glad that didn't happen.

7. Syl

Syl: I was there, of course. But getting to read it made my realize something... Syl: I literally saved you SO MANY times! Syl: Without me, you never would have made it! Syl: Like, repeatedly! Kaladin: It's true. I needed you. Syl: You may address me as "Syl, my lifesaving savior" forever now. Kaladin: I'm not doing that!

8. Dalinar

Dalinar: You never told me the full story. Kaladin: About what, sir? Dalinar: About how my sending Roshone to a "place where he couldn't do any harm" meant sending him to your actual hometown where he tormented your family and sent your brother to the army where he died. Kaladin: Seemed better not to bring it up. Dalinar: I wish that you had. Kaladin: ... Kaladin: I am surprised that this is your takeaway. Not the fact that I, you know, nearly killed your nephew... Dalinar: You did not kill him. You saved him. Dalinar: If we weighed your almost crimes against my actual crimes, there would be no comparison. I am not one to judge someone else's journey. Kaladin: ... Kaladin: This is where we're supposed to add in some humorous joke to end our dialogue, I think. Dalinar: I don't think that's going to happen. Kaladin: No, I guess not.

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

50 Shades of Red Masterlist

Started: 7/05/2024

Last Updated: 12/16/2024

Chapters: 9/?

Word Count: 34,584

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Ao3: @hopelesslygaystuff

Photo Cred: Me

ⴵ ~ Chapter 1 ~ ⴵ

summary: A reimagining of 50 Shades of Grey, featuring a healthy, consensual relationship and safe BDSM scenes. And lesbians, of course. Wanda meets Natasha, and their captivating story begins. word count ~ 4.9k+

ⴵ ~ Chapter 2 ~ ⴵ

summary: Wanda returns home to her roommate's many questions, and runs into a surprise guest at her job. word count ~ 4.5k+

ⴵ ~ Chapter 3 ~ ⴵ

summary: Kate is excited and there's a photoshoot. And lots of gay pining and panicking. Mostly on Wanda's end. word count ~ 4.5k+

ⴵ ~ Chapter 4 ~ ⴵ

summary: Our girls go on a lovely date and there's lots of gay tension. word count ~ 3.7k+

ⴵ ~ Chapter 5 ~ ⴵ

summary: Wanda receives a gift and finishes her final exams, then decides to go out drinking to celebrate with her friends and accidentally makes a very awkward phone call. word count ~ 4.2k+

ⴵ ~ Chapter 6 ~ ⴵ

summary: Wanda wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, then goes through emotional whiplash. Curtesy of a rich, sexy CEO. word count ~ 4.2k+

ⴵ ~ Chapter 7~ ⴵ

summary: Natasha drives Wanda home, where she meets Yelena and debriefs with Kate. word count ~ 3k+

ⴵ ~ Chapter 8 ~ ⴵ

summary: Wanda goes on her first helicopter ride, with a hot woman right beside her. word count ~ 3.3k+

ⴵ ~ Chapter 9 ~ ⴵ

summary: Natasha shows Wanda around her playroom, and they have a discussion. word count ~ 2.4k+

All work is my own. None of the content on this blog is yours to translate, steal, or repost on any platform.

[xerotiny]

╋━ SO IT GOES [Chapter One]

Chapter One

Stranger on the Dance Floor.

Note: reader has a name and isn't simply written as [y/n]. there are no specific warnings, except for the ones already mentioned before, smut warnings will be given for chapters containing smut.

Word count: 4,716

Taglist: @yunlazia @kyeos4ng @playboygeniusphilanthropist

          You stand in front of the mirror, vulnerable to your reflection; squinting your eyes closely against the surface, finding your flaws, searching for the imperfections which are so see-through. There has to be something wrong with you. There had to be. Notions of flaws created waves of overthinking in your mind; the more you sailed in the sea of darkness, the more your ship rocked, the crashing cold waves threatening for your ship to capsize and sink. Like a derogatory slang stuck in your head, your husband's words give you a dreadful whiplash. You shouldn't be so focused on what he said. Yet, his words ring louder in your ears and coerce a demented speculation about him every time you think about it.

Hubby ♥️ ⛰️ Can't wait to see you in that black teddy Remember to wear the matching garters too They suit you

[Delivered 8:34 pm] [Read 9:08 pm]

You hold your phone in your hand, bright screen flashing the black letters etched on it. Shifting your eyes between the mirror, your reflection and your husband's texts, an unruly surge of insecurities courses through your mind. Maybe he didn't mean the words he said before. Maybe this is his way of apologising to you. Maybe you should stop overreacting and start loving him for once. Every "maybe" had a different effect on you, growing heavy on your well-constructed conscience and dwindling it down to the ground. Regardless of the poorly circuited responses of your brain, you know you'd cave in the moment you watch him walk in through the front door. You'd cave the moment he asks for a freshly brewed tea, his favourite drink to have after work. You're weak for him. And your weakness, he holds in the palm of his hand. Like a puppet on a string.

Countless moments have riled up an insatiable rage in your heart, but even those meagre seconds of anger have dissipated to minutes of hollow apologies and empty promises. In this house, arguments have a way of solving themselves; apologies came to you in the form of kisses from your husband. He tried. But his words would push further to your edge. In the end, he resorted to using his charm on you. Seduction, if you will.

You bite down on your lip, contemplating texting him back. You were already dressed in that black teddy; alongside the garters he had told you not to forget about. All dolled up, standing in the bathroom adjoining your master bedroom, staring at your reflection in the body mirror; that was your night. You tug at the ends of your silk robe, tying the loose ends together to cover your body. The longer you stared, the more insecure you got.

Huffing a breath, you text him back as you're sauntering out of the bathroom.

You I'm all dressed already. Come back soon Will be waiting for you in our bedroom. ;)

[Delivered 9:15] [Read 9:15]

Oh no, that makes your anxiety bubble up.

Hubby ♥️⛰️ Hey darling Small problem There's a minor holdup at work today

[Delivered 9:16] [Read 9:16]

You What's wrong now?

[Delivered 9:17] [Read 9:17]

The bubbles on his side appear and disappear, reappear and disappear—the cycle continues for a few seconds until your phone starts ringing in your hand. He's calling you. Without wasting a beat of your time, you answer and press your phone to your ear.

"What is it this time?" you deadpan, only to hear your husband click his tongue, "darling, I'm sorry. I wanted this night to be perfect as much as you did."

"That's not my question," you groan, "what's the holdup?"

"Shipment issues," he states, "my employees have been at it since the last hour. I wouldn't be making a good impression on them if I choose to leave them alone to deal with this. I'm their boss."

"And maybe, for once, you should use that to your benefit?" you suggest quite spitefully, after his word had left a bitter taste on your tongue. "It's fine, San. I wasn't expecting much from you anyway. After that ugly blowup in the morning, I hadn't pinned my hopes on anything."

You hear him suck in a deep breath. "Baby, please. I'll be back before you know it." he has a certain lilt to his voice, "it won't take much time, I promise."

"Fine," you grumble from your chest, the disappointment fleeting tears in your eyes. "Take care." Before he could say anything, you hang up the call and set your phone down on your dresser.

Trying to hold your emotions together, a stray tear streams down your cheek regardless. The sullen details from the morning come rushing back to you, reeling you down in the deep dark waters of aversion and despair. It's not the why you were disappointed with your husband, it was the way you had seemingly left your words unsaid, following the little altercation you had with him.

As any other day, your morning took off with lazy kisses and warm hugs from your husband. The warmth of his embrace is unparalleled to anything, even the fiercest of fires couldn't compare. There were times where you'd catch yourself wondering if these moments were all just in your mind, if you were supposedly seeking your happiness in these deluded instances. These thoughts don't come and go naturally, they adhere to your heart and soul, altering your morals and beliefs.

Was today one of those days?

Unfair quarrels influence more passive-aggressiveness from both of you. If today's dispute was anything like the ones you've had in past, then maybe, San has every reason to lie to you. What happened in the morning, wasn't just a simple mistake—a deliberate attempt to hide his emerald traces. After all, an intricate piece of silver and emerald had struck a match to light the fire between you.

San is see-through, pretty transparent with his intentions and his heart. So, when you found a piece of jewellery in his coat's pocket, you knew something was up. It didn't belong to you. You didn't like emeralds. And even so, San knows you like the back of his hand; he'd never get you anything short of diamond or platinum. Suspicions rise above all loyalty; above all years you've been with him—it is a detrimental thing.

One thing led to another, and before you know, you were both going at it. Both defending your loyalty, both striving to validate yourself. Anger, frustration, doubt, these are momentary responses; all of it simmers down to guilt in the end. You were regretting bringing it up, regretting ever questioning his character over your sense of doubt. And he? San felt the same, he voiced his truth.

However, you didn't believe him. His story was so well spun and weaved in with his mistakes, that you had no idea how to comprehend your own thoughts over it. He left no room for doubt. He could be a storyteller, if he wanted to.

Reality does break you apart, stringing you along the sound of your phone buzzing on your dresser. There it was the group chat spam. Ten years of knowing them, and yet you never learn to silence your group chat. You peer at the bright screen, reading the notifications as they cascaded down your lock screen one by one.

'Boohoo, she's become such a killjoy.'

'I hope she's enjoying herself :('

'Marriage really does suck the life out of people.'

'Yes, we have quite a few living examples amongst us.'

And they continued on, bashing your married life and your husband, and it only got worse from then. You heave out a sigh and roll your eyes, deciding to ignore them for the time being. Running a hand through your hair, you tie it in a low bun and tease out a few strands in front to frame your face. You proceed to take off the lip-stain from your lips and the subtle highlight on your eyelids. Disappointed still, you leave your shared bedroom and saunter downstairs to the kitchen; your throat suddenly pleading you for a drink.

The kitchen lights were turned on. You could make out light shuffles coming from there. Anyone else would be alarmed, but not you, considering it was someone you knew quite well. So, the moment you step up to the counter separating the dining space and the kitchen, you can't help but let your lips twitch to a smile.

"Second dinner?" you remark with a small grin, teasing the black-haired man slouched over the kitchen island while preparing himself a sandwich—of sorts.

He clicks his tongue. "A post-dinner snack, if you will." he raises his head up, smiling softly in your direction; when he stares at you for a minute longer than he had intended to, he rolls his eyes and scoffs playfully, "relax, I was going to leave you two alone after this."

"I don't recall myself making any assumptions but okay," you mutter, folding your arms over your chest. "Your brother isn't getting back home any sooner."

"Of course, he's the devil of his will." The said man chuckles and shakes his head, taking his eyes off you. He slaps a slice of cheese on the bread, and hums, "so, what did my asshole of a brother do now to disappoint you?"

"I'm not disappointed." You clear your throat and sit down on the stool in front of the counter, keeping your attention on him. "What gave you that idea?"

"A beautiful woman, such as you, are dressed in her finest of lingerie, made some efforts to put on her makeup and even with all her stunning grace, she wears disappointment on the tip of her nose like a pretty piece of jewel." He peers up at you, "lie to someone else. My brother for that matter. But don't lie to me, Ye-rin."

You're rendered speechless by his observation and honestly, you'd rather not ruin it further by whining and feigning ignorance about this situation.

"You could retort and still stick to defending yourself," he shrugs and picks up the made sandwich on a plate. "Or you can—you can live in the little freedom you have for the night. The choice is yours."

"What are you talking about, Jongho?" you scoff, "well, yeah. I'm not going to lie to myself and try to stay deluded about this situation. Yes, I'm disappointed. I'm really mad at your brother for getting me all warmed up and then leaving me dry." Taking a deep breath, you look away and fix your gaze down on your trembling fingers. "But he doesn't have me trapped in a cage—I'm not wrapped around his finger as you suppose I am."

Jongho stays in the silence taking over, his eyes fixated to your anxious mannerisms and body language. He knows it all too well, he knows everything.

"I know you love my brother, a lot," he breaks the silence, "and so does he. I'm sure of it he does. But you're allowed to be a bit selfish in the relationship, Ye-rin. It's not the end of the world if you do."

He makes his way over to you and sets the plate down on the counter, in front of you.

"Eat up," he states, "eat this, get dressed and go to wherever your friends wanted to drag you tonight."

You raise your head up to stare at him, dumbfounded and completely caught off guard. "What?"

"The night-out your friends were talking about?" he bites his tongue and scratches the back of his neck, "I overheard you talking to your friends earlier in the evening. You should go."

"First of all, you were lurking around my room?" you gasp, questioning him, "second, will San be okay with—okay, okay...I'll go." You correct yourself the moment he glares at you.

"If you don't feel like staying for long, give me a call," he shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest, "I'll come pick you up right away."

"Jongho, I—"

"—I'll come pick you up." He interrupts you with a grunt, "stay with your friends for an hour or so and forget about what happened in the morning, drink, dance, or whatever that is you do. I know you'll be in your limits, so I will not say anything more." The frown on his lips, twitches to a soft smile. "Just have some fun for a night. Don't think about my stupid brother, okay?"

You nod your head, used to him saying stuff like that all the time. "Okay, fine! You win. I'll go but you better come pick me up the second I ring your phone."

"Relax, gee. I am aware clubs and pubs aren't really your scene," he rolls his eyes, huffing out. "It's alright. Give me a call and I'll be there. Just make sure you don't get yourself drunk. I'm not sure if I'm fit to handle an inebriated Ye-rin."

"What makes you say that?" you scoff, clearly taken back by his judgement of your drinking capabilities.

"From the stories I've heard from your friends, not about you perse, I'm sure they would try to get you drunk and..." he trails off as if to indicate something; some unsaid thoughts which click quite quickly in your head. "That's why you're eating that." He points at the sandwich, now in your hand. "It'll absorb most of the alcohol and you won't be—yeah, maybe a little tipsy, but not pissed drunk."

He shrugs lightly and retorts to your parted lips, as if he had read your mind, "I'll make myself another one. Don't worry."

"Great." You grumble before taking a bite of the sandwich in your hand.

It was a so-so sandwich. A simple sandwich. Slice of ham and cheese between two untoasted pieces of bread. Usually, such things would satisfy you, but this time—you were left for craving more. Something spicy, something more than satisfactory.

             The night only dwelled on the darker inhibitions in your mind. Everything was fine until you left, until you parted ways with Jongho and the house you were supposedly waiting for your husband to come early to. Your friends picked you up on their way to the club, shared a couple of slurs against you on your mere involvement with them and cursed out your husband. At times like these, you'd like to think the girls were being supportive. They could never have ill thoughts about your husband, or your married life. Though, there were times where either of them would blurt out the most unhinged thing and pretend otherwise. Given such situations, you'd swallow down all your second thoughts and wear a facade of solitude. Because in the end, it was your "own" decision to marry San.

San was everything you wanted when you were a freshman in college; the first year of your undergrad was seemingly the talking phase for you two. You had decided to take things slow for the sake of maintaining a healthy balance between your studies and love life. To say San was more than understanding about your situation would be an understatement. At the beginning of your relationship, he had been the first to suggest taking it slow between two of you. And so, it went on for the first year, with countless date nights and weekends filled with picnics and staying in at his place.

Four magical years led up to the day when San had finally asked you the question and popped the ring on your finger. It was a pleasant year, the year after your graduation. Your career took an unanticipated turn that year however—marriage, one puzzling pregnancy scare and your changed perspective of life. Dedication to your husband somehow started nudging past all your other priorities; it wasn't an unnerving situation for you, you knew this would happen. Marrying the man, whom you always dreamt of spending your entire life with, was cherry on top when paired with your stable career. The one you'd thought of having before anything else. One pregnancy scare, and everything seemed bleak—it wasn't just a false positive, it was more than that. There's only so much you could do against the will of nature; if it didn't make you compatible to bear kids, then it didn't. It was a hard pill to swallow, that one. The hopes of ever becoming a mother and welcoming motherhood with your open arms, it was all crumbled into a heap of ash of your fiery desires.

It may not seem as unlikely, however, San had encouraged you countless times to restart your career. And he had been for the past eight years of your life with him. He had overlooked it so easily; he did show disappointment and regardless of the melancholy trapped in his heart, he didn't treat you different to how he had in your best of years. It was then when your mind had drowned in the deepest darkest oceans of woes and depression. An inkling which crawled under your skin and threatened to burst out into flames; were you ever good enough for San?

Just how in the morning, the ground beneath your feet was trembling with cracks, you were fighting the urge to bawl your eyes out. Neon splotches taint your skin in acrid hues as your hips sway lightly to the raving techno music. The dance floor reeks with sweat and sex, and the pungent concoction of everyone's perfumes and colognes. You wouldn't have permitted yourself to let loose until alcohol had somehow made its way into your bloodstream. You'd have to blame one of your girlfriends for forcing you to drink, coaxing you to do a shot before stumbling your way on the dance floor. In no hell would you have agreed to Hyunju's invitation to the dance floor if you were sober; now however, even with the stench of booze and sweat, with bodies clambering against each other, you were dancing to the arrhythmic music. Lightheaded in the beams of dimmed down lights, your half-lidded gaze lifts up to your best friend. Her face scrunches up lightly as her eye catches on the frown on your lips.

She takes a step close to you, synchronised with the beat of the thumping music, and screams in your ear. "You feeling okay?"

You nod your head and yell over the music, "I'm fine."

No sign of conviction graced her face, yet she let you do as you'd please. Dazed by the stammering lights, you continued to delve into your tipsy mind, as your body rocked to the deafening music. You've been here before, in this particular moment countless times before—the booze, the smell of perfumes and cologne, and the pumped-up adrenaline buzzing you to the loud music. It's all happened before. You were used to it all.

On the crowded dance floor, in the heat of sweaty bodies lurching together, you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist, pulling you back into a strong chest, exactly on the rhythm of the song. You gasped, oh louder than you could've ever perceived yourself. Glancing to the trace of his warmth skittering over your dress and waist, you almost gasp again at the sight of his hands. The twinkle on his finger was long forgotten as his lips caressed just lightly under your ear, just lightly. His hot breath fanned the nape of your neck, his hair tickling a side of your cheek as he buries his head in the crook of your neck. You stay frozen in your place, eyes wide, alcohol coursing out of your system to make you more alert.

A whimper parts your lips when you hear him mumble into your ear, his voice dulcet yet coarse, throaty even.

"If you keep this up," he trails off, his breath lingering on your ear, "I might end up breaking more than just your heart tonight."

This time, a hollowed gasp wrings out of your chest, causing the man behind you to heave a dainty chuckle. Your trembling thoughts conjecture a straightforward retort, regardless of how feeble you'd been rendered by his fluttering lips tracing out every little vein under the skin of your neck. You couldn't think for yourself, let alone for the little bit of confidence left in you.

Is this what Jongho warned you about?

Unfathomable movements under the pretence of lighthearted caper, which seem to only prolong the effect of incomprehension and confusion. And amid all, the overwhelming sense of shame crawls from the pit of your stomach to your burning heart. Your face was flushed, cheeks red and hot, eyes half-lidded to relish the fervour this supposed stranger gave to you. His hands slide down to your hips, fingertips grazing frail strokes over your sequin studded dress, tugging ever so gently at the hem. He brought a whole new meaning to 'dancing on the dance floor', maybe he made it even better. Jammed between the crowd of unwanted people, he was someone you didn't want to shove around.

The man's lips part against the nape of your neck; a few seconds of anticipation almost knocked the air out of your lungs because his tongue had darted out and licked up a patch. You should be icked by this. If anything, under the sober-spirited circumstances of your mind, you'd have punched the man right in his gut. But not this time. Was it the way he held you? Was it how his lips knew your skin? What was it that made you so unresponsive to a man toying with your body, toying with your outdated sense of perceiving pleasure. The music starts to fade, and so do you; harrowing reality slips the bounds of time and space, melting your mind to his warmth.

"Back off, dick face!" and in the middle of you losing your mind, your best friend's voice rings out in your ears. "Can't you see she's married?"

Hyunju holds your hand up to the guy behind you, who, upon catching a glimpse of the twinkling rock on your finger, detaches himself and saunters backwards. Before you could comprehend the events under the saccade of your eyes, the stranger had already disappeared in the waves of people dancing around you. He's long gone in the darkness, in the space where the neon lights don't shine.

"Are you for real, Ye-rin?" Hyunju takes your hand in hers and drags you off the dance floor. "Who was he?"

Only the echoes of her question remain still in your head, other than that, you're replaying the last few minutes in your mind like a broken record.

"I don't know," you shrug, regardless the dark, "he came out of nowhere."

Neon lights bleach out to proper amber lights as you come to the booth your friends had occupied. Hyunju forces you down on the couch, next to another one of your girlfriends and stands in front of you, glaring at you with her arms crossed over my chest. Her skirt rustles a bit as she shifts her weight on one leg, and the sleeves of her blouse overflow the length of her arms as she raises them up in air.

"And you let him do as he pleased with you?" she grumbles.

The gradual attempts of your brain unraveling the moments from dance floor sink in and you scoff in disbelief.

"I wasn't thinking straight." You could hear your other friends whispering, confused and wondering.

"Ye-rin," she huffs and settles down on the other end of the circular couch, "you should be careful. If it weren't for me, chances were that you would have been...never mind."

You see her shake her head and peer at the other girls, deep in thought—not for long however, because she turns back to you and questions:

"Why didn't you shove him off though?" her curious eyes settle on you. "Didn't your brain activate flight or fight or something when he first touched you? Honestly, you didn't seem uncomfortable with him either."

You suck in a sharp breath, your head hanging low. Contemplating, you hear one of your friends tease, "did you like it, Ye-rin?"

Yun-Ah receives a cold glare from you, and she pipes down, pouting. She exchanges a knowing glance with Hyunju who sat next to her.

"Oh, she did. She so did." Ah-ri chimed in from next to you, hitting your shoulder.

"Guys, stop it!" You snap and relax once realising how tensed your voice sounded. "Maybe—fine, okay, you guys win. I didn't push him off because I—" your voice dwindles to a whisper, "—because I liked it. He...he knew exactly where to touch me. My body—I really wished my body had reacted to it with disgust and grimace, but it couldn't."

Your friends listen to you explain, and the same words reverberate inside you.

"I knew this was a bad idea. I shouldn't have tagged along with you," you mumble, feeling guilt consume your gut and heart. "If San knows about it—"

"—wait a minute, why and how would San come to know about this?" Hyunju interrupts you, continuing with a scoff, "look, no one has to know. It was a stupid mistake anyway. Things like this happen all the time. Pretend it never happened and forget."

"Woah, advice of the year," Ah-ri slow claps, monotonously mumbling. "Seriously Hyun, you should've become a marriage counsellor. The world needs you. The people need you. Divorce rates would've dropped if you had just observed married couples instead of picking up a pen."

Hyunju dry laughs, "oh gee Ah-ri, did you know sarcasm is one of the biggest turn offs for guys? Poor Jiung."

Ah-ri scoffs and opens her mouth to retaliate but is shut up by Min-Ji, who strides while balancing five glasses of cocktails in her hands.

"Not you two again." She groans, setting the glasses down on the table. "And by the way, guys? I think we should bail. The bartender here is an absolute jerk and a sleazeball. I had to wait fifteen minutes before he got to me. There was no one at the bar! No one."

"No can't do, baby girl." Yun-ah states, already reaching out for her glass, containing swirls of pink and red. "Ask Ye-rin."

"What...?" Min-Ji turns to you, bemused.

"It's nothing, Min. Don't heed them any attention." You click your tongue and glare at the girls, taking the only glass left on the table now. "You guys make a big deal out of everything."

"Uh, this is a huge deal?" Hyunju deadpans, "you almost got molested. God knows what would've happened if I wasn't there."

Min-Ji sits down on the couch when Hyunju moves aside. "What is happening?" she whispers.

"What happens on the dance floor stays on the dance floor," you stress on the words, "now can we please drop this?"

"No," Ah-ri states, her tone determined, "is everything okay with you and San, Ringo?"

Listening to her, everything comes rushing back in and you sigh, "no."

Hyunju mumbles, "so there's more to him abandoning you on your special night?"

You nod your head and Min-Ji pipes in, "well I know you had an ugly blow up in the morning..."

"It's stupid really," you utter, taking a sip of your drink; the alcohol burns your throat as it slides down. "Very stupid."

The girls watch you with pity as they sip their own drinks. None of them had anything to say, none of them tried too either. The silence which settled in the cracks of the moment, became too comfortable for anyone to break it. Until, you had had too much and spoken the truth biting at your heart.

"Guys?" You murmur, getting their attention. "The reason why—look, the man on the dance floor—he had—he had his way with his body and lips. It was something so..."

"Exhilarating?" Min-Ji finishes your line. "Is that right?"

You nod, "I didn't want that feeling to end. You know...the buzzing, the electricity rushing under my skin—I was aching to feel more." Taking a pause, you glance up at them and lick your lips, ready to be straightforward.

"Twenty-eight days, it's been twenty-eight days since San, and I have had sex."

To be continued.

Master list | Next Chapter

[hart269]

Slithering Hearts

Chapter 8

Pairing : Regulus Black x Fem! reader

Synopsis : You begin an unlikely friendship with the little Black. And soon your whole life seems to have become a tumultuous pathway. The catch, James Potter is your brother.

A/N : The Altair and Vega lore deepens.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

The chill that ran down your spine stopped once you entered the owlery, nose crinkling as the musty smell of birds attacked you. You silently waved your wand to a cleaning spell. Clutching the letters you searched among the rows of owls for your beloved Altair. A frown perched upon your face not finding him in his designated place. You didn't remember sending anything. You wondered if James used your owl.

You gave out a call, "Altair". Hearing a loud hoot from the east corner, you turned to see your beloved with his beloved, Vega. You gently picked him up, nuzzling his chin, "Shoul'dve known, you can't live without your girlfriend can you?". The owl hooted in response. Handing him the letters, you chuckled. That's when your eye caught something strange.

You moved cautiosly, remembering the symptoms from the 'Fantastic Beasts and where to find them' and general owl behaviour. As Vega moved towards you, your thoughts were only confirmed the more you stared. Well, that was unexpected.

Returning back, you plopped down on the sofa, "Hey Reg, how do feel about kids"

Barty snickered, "As he feels about his mother"

Regulus rolled his eyes, "They're fine as long as they don't annoy me".

You hummed, raising your brows.

"Wait, you're not adopting another cat are you"

Barty looked confused, "Don't you have like two already?"

You let out an offended gasp hitting his shoulder "Hey, you're just jealous cats love me"

Regulus smirked, "Sure they do". You scoffed, "Atleast beetlejuice does"

His voice was laced with confusion, "You named it Beetlejuice?"

"It is a mighty fine name, it took a long time to figure it out" you were going on about the names, before realising that it was going off track. "The point is you are gonna be a parent and I am ready to pay child support"

Barty almost whiplashed turning between you two, "When did that happen?"

"What, did you.... did you hit your head?" he speculated, turning your head after pushing Barty off the sofa.

You shook it out of his grasp, "Noo, Vega is gonna lay eggs"

"What?" he asked, processing the unexpected news.

"Yes" you admitted, "Altair is the father"

He drawled, "So, like who's gonna keep the kid"

Your brow furrowed, "Shouldn't the mother keep it?"

"She should" He nodded, he knew so but he was rightfully worried about taking it back to Black manor. Raising another owl there, he'd have to careful with that.

"I'll help you for sure, I mean it was my Altair because of which...this happened, but you shall not worry, it'll be a nice owlette" your rambling halted, noticing the melting gaze on you.

"Then if I'll have if you with me, I guess we raise a damn good owlette" His hand laid on top of yours, you squeezed it gleefully. "But I am not letting you name it"

You pouted, "I'll give it a good name". He rolled his eyes, "We'll see about that". He suddenly stood up, closing his books.

You looked up, "Where are you going?". He lend out his hand, you grabbed on it as he pulled you up. "To the owlery, to check on Vega"

"It's cold and I just came back" you groaned. He smirked, "You said you will take responsibilty right?". He chuckled at your unenthusiastic nod, dragging you with him.

Barty just went grumbling to Rosier, "They always disappear together, don't they."

Regulus checked Vega while you watched from the side. He turned to meet your gaze, "She really has been for some time". He would have noticed sooner, if sending or receiving letters to family had been a regular thing.

You seemed to realize the same time as him of your closed proximity. His nose was tinged red, cheeks flushed, eyes shining as his did when he looked at the stars. You wanted to stay frozen in this moment, until you were over the exhilaration though you doubted any amount of moments would be enough.

But you needed to move, it was not a right thing. To look at him that way, to feel that way about him, but you couldn't force your legs to move. You subconsciously moved foward, you think he did too because your breath mingled.

"Do you know why I named my owl Vega?"

"Why?" you asked, wondering why he chose to bring that up now.

"Vega was the godess of the sky who fell in love with Altair, a mortal. She promised to bring him to heaven, but it angered her father. Though he granted her wish, he separated them by the Celestial River. Yet each year, a bridge of magpies forms across the river. And then they meet." he paused, taking a breath, "So that day when I heard you had named your owl Altair, I could think of nothing but Vega, I hadn't even named her at that time but then no other name seemed perfect."

"It is perfect Reg" you muttered, grinning from ears to ears. You moved a strand of stray curl from his cheek, you were so full of the things you wanted to say to him, it was on the verge of overflowing. "Reg, I-".

"It's cold isn't it, we should return" he interrupted your chain of words.

Your face warmed up and you nodded, stepping back. "Yes, of course".

The walk back to the castle was awfully silent, yet you didn't wish to fill it. It remained such so for quite a while. Neither of you brought it up, and you assumed there was nothing up to bring. You were the one with terribly high hopes, and it had been wrong of you to assume he had felt the same. Still you couldn't shake the image of him up so close, but you guessed you could live with this thing inside of you rather than live without him.

The black and white motion picture across the page of The Daily Prophet led to quiet murmurs of distress and apprehension. A skull of shadows loomed pver the sky, a shadow snake protuding out of its mouth. The article "TERROR RISES AS THE DARK LORD DOES", showed another story of muggles and wizards being attacked. Houses set ablazed in flames, while humans, and animals eiyher ran or lay dead on the ground.

You teared the article trimming its edges, sticking it into your collection. With the whisperings of the upcoming war, you saved all of whatever information you could find of him. Voldemort as called by his lovely death deaters and those who feared him simply referred to him as He who must not be named.

His morphed face either raised deep terror in the hearts of the people or resentment or in some both. You however resented him, just for the sake of power, he had killed innumerable innocents. The thing you didn't get was the amount of lust he had for power. He was already probably midway through his life, what will he do with such power. He had no heirs either. Though you had heard some claims, all turned out to be false. But then his mannerisms were similar to Grindelwald, however Voldy did have a penchance for show off.

You were determined, to find out what you could about the supposed lord. Though you knew if you were to fight in the war, you not only had to defend yourself against the dark arts but learn them too. You glanced at the hidden copy of "Magick Moste Evil" on your nightstand that you had "borrowed" for a while. It was time to begin studying. It was better to think about this rather than what happened at the owlery.

To say Regulus didn't regret moving away would be an understatement. He did, but he thought he would have regretted giving in more, you were already in the deep mess as it goes, to pull you in deeper in the trenches of his life, he doubted he would be able to forgive himself. He knew, he knew for sure you would never side with his family, you hated them with a passion, he did too. Yet, he was a part of it. The house he was forced to call home was the place he could return to, and he had to, not like he had a choice.

It was way past midnight a small black cat could be seen slithering in the shadows of the darkened hallway, heading towards the doors of the library. There it slid past the books to the back of the library, sliding past the robes it reached the section it needed to be, the forbidden section.

It then transformed into a human, its dark curls merging with the shadows. A whisper of lumos, then a hand skimmed delicately through the titles of the books, before stopping and picking up one.

Taglist : @shycreationdreamland @mp-littlebit @girlbooklover555 @godofstory @misacc08 @starchaser-lily @moonywastakenn @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @skepvids @venomsvl @hecateschildren

[kpop---scenarios]

Whiplash (8)

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader x Felix

Warning: Mentions of blood, car accidents, guns, etc

Genre: Friends to lovers, street racing

Word Count: 2.8k

Taglist: @sheala--marie @kayleefriedchicken @chartrucewhore @cookiesnmilfx

@thicccurls @aznstoner @velvetmoonlght @dvbkie099

@fawnpeaks

Everything Taglist: @wife2straykidss @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon

@dwaekkiiracha @silly250 @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

@satosugu4l @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @iovecb97

@1810cl @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat

@pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog

@anskiiz @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr

@jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @ayyonoona @31maze13

@stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited @hoesheez

Previous Chapters

A/N: i really hope you like this version more than the other one!!

You stare at the man, you now remembered was named Mingi. “Who was it?” You ask, your heart pounding, it felt like it was going to shoot right out of your chest. Your palms were getting sweaty as he stood there just smiling at you, not saying a word. He nods towards the sound of the crash.

“Go see for yourself.” He murmurs, taking a puff of his newly lit cigarette. You turn around, walking away from him. Your speed slowly picked up, until you were running as fast as your leg would take you, moving past the groups of people who were just standing around, while others rushed towards the smoke that was filling the air.

You pushed your way through the group of people, pleading in your head that if it was Hyunjin and Felix in that crash, that they weren't seriously injured. You watch as a group of guys each pry the doors of the familiar car open, helping Felix and Hyunjin out. You hadn't realized that you were holding your breath until you saw both their faces, a little bruised and cut up, but they were alive, standing there laughing as they walked away from the car that came so close to being wrapped around the tree.

“Baby.” Hyunjin breathes, rushing towards you, Felix just steps behind him.

“Are you okay?” Felix asks, wrapping his arms around you, with Hyunjin on the other side.

“Me?” You scoff. “The two of you were just in a fucking crash. Are you two okay?” You ask. You were feeling all over their bodies, trying to make sure nothing was broken and that they were both truly okay. You can vaguely hear the others in the group, looking over the car, assessing the damages. The smell of burnt rubber, dripping gasoline filling your nostrils as you just take these two men in, thanking whoever that they were alive, despite whoever tried to interfere. You watched as the beads of sweat rolled down their faces, mixed in with the dirt and the blood. Fuck that was close.

“Are you sure?” You sniffle. “Are you both really okay?”

“I'm fine.” Felix laughs.

“I am too.” Hyunjin smiles. “Where were you?”

“I was on my way to the bathroom and I got stopped by Mingi.” You explain, rolling your eyes. You can feel both men tense up at the sound of his name.

“Was San there?” Hyunjin asks.

“I didn't see him.” You say. “I think Mingi caused the crash.” You whisper.

“Yeah I wouldn't be surprised. Someone cut the fucking breaks.” Felix spits.

Felix wraps his arm around your shoulders, while Hyunjin wraps his arm around your waist, the three of you walking away from the scene.

As you all approach the area where the rest of the racers and onlookers stand around, the crowd begins to slowly disburse. You try to bring Hyunjin and Felix to another car, wanting to take them home when an extremely expensive looking car pulls into the lot, parking not far from the three of you. You watch as two large men get out of the passenger and driver's seat, opening the back door for someone else. You can hear Hyunjin and Felix mutter to themselves as the scariest man, yet an extremely handsome man, in the nicest suit you'd ever seen, begins to walk towards you.

“Oh fuck.” Felix hisses, glancing at Hyunjin. “Where's Chan?” He asks, looking around, trying to find their leader.

“Y/N, go look for Chan. Now. Please. Go.” Hyunjin urges you.

“Hyunjin! Felix!” The man yells, sending shivers down your spine. You look back as you're walking away, the smile on his face even more terrifying. You looked around for a few minutes before you finally found Chan and it didn't take him long to notice the panicked look on your face.

“What's wrong?” He asks, grabbing onto your arms. “Did something else happen to Hyunjin and Felix?” He asks, holding onto you tightly.

“Um, No… well maybe? I'm not really sure.” You murmur. “There's a man. And Hyunjin and Felix didn't look happy about it. They told me to find you.” You murmur.

“A guy? What did he look like?” Chan asks.

“He was really hot… but also terrifying.” You answer.

“Fuck.” Chan snaps. “It's Soohyuk.” He says to Changbin. Both men leave you standing there as they rush towards Hyunjin and Felix. You weren't sure what was going on but you didn't have a good feeling about it.

You follow slowly behind Chan and Changbin, the knot in your stomach growing with every step, the closer you get to the man. You see San, Mingi and the rest of their group standing across from Hyunjin and Felix with the rest of the guys. None of them look happy, they're all frowning. You keep your eyes on the man, Soohyuk who seems to be scolding both groups. The closer you get the more you get an eerie feeling radiating off of him. He smiles as he talks to them, but his eyes. His eyes show nothing. No soul, the man is completely empty.

“Now.” Soohyuk says in a relatively calm voice. “What the fuck happened tonight?” He asks.

“San and Mingi cut our fucking breaks lines.” Hyunjin spits.

Soohyuk looked over at the two who cowered from his gaze. “Is that true?” He asks.

“I only did it for San's sake!” Mingi yells. “I got tired of him bitching about their girl.” He finishes, motioning towards you. The groups separate, revealing you standing there, looking over at Hyuniin and Felix who now look worried.

“So you almost killed two of my best fucking racers over a goddamn girl?” Soohyuk laughs.

“She was mine first!” San yells.

“Like 6 fucking years ago. Get over it.” Felix snaps back.

“I can solve this problem right fucking now.” He suggests, pulling a gun from the waist of his pants, cocking it and pointing it directly at you.

“Woah, woah!” Hyunjin and Felix yell, trying to rush towards you but they're both stopped by the big bodyguards.

“Okay, Soohyuk, put the gun down.” Chan suggests, slowly walking towards you, trying to protect you.

“Why?” Soohyuk asks. “If you guys are doing this shit, neither of you are out there trying to win me my fucking money.”

“They'll stop. Right, Hongjoong.” Chan says, motioning to him to agree.

“Uh, yeah… yeah They'll stop.” Hongjoong murmurs, Keeping his eyes on Soohyuk. He keeps the gun pointed at you as one of his guards, who is on the phone walks up to him, whispering in his ear, making Soohyuk smile.

“You know what? That's not a bad idea. Tell Mr. Jung, I like it.” he says, lowering his gun, tucking it back into his waist.

“Here's how it's going to go. Her, what's your name?” He asks, pointing to you.

You don't say anything. You feel like you're frozen in your spot, your brain isn't registering like it's supposed to. “What’s your fucking name?” Soohyuk shouts.

The sound makes you jump. “Um Y/N.” You mumble, your body shaking.

“Good. Now, things are going to change around here. I've got some investors, if you will, that want to watch some good fucking racing. And I want some good competition between the two of you. So Y/N, you're coming with me.” Soohyuk smiles.

“No!” Hyunjin yells.

“Over my dead body!” Felix says.

“Well that can be arranged.” Soohyuk smiles. His grin sends shivers down your spine. "If you want your fucking funding to continue, youll do as I say."

You didn't like him, you could tell he was nothing but a fucking monster. But you couldn't let anything happen to Hyunjin and Felix. They were always protecting you, so now it was your turn to protect them.

“I'll go.” You say.

Soohyuk grins. “That's a good girl. Come willingly. It'll make things a lot easier for me.” He says, walking towards you. He places his hands on your shoulder, leaning in closely to you. “Because now I don't have to hurt you.” He whispers.

You hold your head high as you let him guide you towards his guards. You mouth “I'm sorry” to Hyunjin and Felix as you fight your tears. You didn't want them to know how fucking terrified you were right now.

“We'll get you back!” Felix yells. “I love you!”

“Be safe baby. I love you.” Hyunjin yells. You try to turn around to tell them you loved them, but the guard shoves you forward towards the car, opening the door for you to get in. You slide in the passenger seat, your heart racing. It was getting harder to breathe. This was a bad choice. You feel like you fucked up. Soohyuk stayed with the other for a few more minutes. You wished you knew what he was saying.

**

“Now you both have something to fight for.” Soohyuk smiles. “We're starting over. You're all at zero point. You'll be racing those you've raced before, and when you do, there's no rules. Win at whatever cost. The more violent the better. If you make it to the final, and you fucking better.” He says, motioning to San, Hyunjin and Felix. “The winner gets Y/N. New rules for the final will be announced closer to the date.” he smiles. “Questions?”

“What if we don't make it to the final?” Hyunjin asks. “What happens to Y/N?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“Don't worry, I'll be giving you some incentives to win. The three of you are my most entertaining racers.” He chuckles. “But if that doesn't work, then tour precious Y/N, goes to whoever fucking wins.” Soohyuk finishes, turning around to walk towards the car. “I'll be in touch with information about your first race.” He yells back, putting up his hand to say goodbye.

**

You're sitting in the car, absolutely fucking terrified about what the hell was going to happen to you. Soohyuk slides into the other side of the back seat, watching his guards slide into the front, and drive away. You turn around to look back at a defeated Hyunjin and Felix. Your heart breaks at the sight of them. You continued to stare until they were finally out of view and you were stuck with three men you didn't know and had no idea what their intentions were.

The entire car ride was silent. You tried to control your breathing but it was so hard. You just wanted to hyperventilate but instead you watched through the window as you passed the city you knew, leaving it behind, heading to an unknown destination. It took an hour, after leaving the city for the driver to pull into a gravel driveway, having to stop a large gate to put in a code before heading onto cement, pulling up to a ginormous house. your jaw drops at the sight of it. You forget for a moment who you're with.

“You live here!?” You exclaim.

He chuckles. “Yeah this is where I live.” He says as the car rolls to a stop. You get out of the car, unable to pick your jaw up off the ground as you're guided inside. You're trying to take everything in but the place is just so big you don't know where to look. You're taken to a large living room, where you sit on a couch. Soohyuk sits across from you, resting his arms on his legs as he leans forward.

“Go ahead. Ask.” He says.

“What are you going to do to me?” You ask.

He laughs. “It's not what you think. You're not my type. Not to mention, my wife would cut off my balls and shove them down my throat if I did anything with anyone else.” He chuckles. You watched his facial expressions as he talked, and they looked so forced. Like he was trying to be nide but you could see right through the pretend nice guy act. You couldn't let him know, you needed to play along as best you could

“How did you get involved in this?” He asks.

“It just kinda happened.” You say. You weren't going to let your guard down too much. “Hyunjin, Felix and I had been friends for years and somewhere down the line my feelings changed. And so did theirs. And then we got together.” You explain. “But the whole street racing thing came out by accident. I had no idea.”

Soohyuk nods his head. “And San?”

“I used to hook up with him years ago. It was never anything serious. Ever. If I'm being honest, he's been nothing nut a fucking nuisance since he's reappeared in my life.” You sigh.

“I heard about the accident.” He says. “How's your head now?” He wonders.

“It's good. I get headaches sometimes.” You explain.

“Well let me know if there's anything I can do for you and what you need to make your stay more comfortable.” He smiles. “This is Chae, she'll be keeping an eye on you and helping you with anything you need.” He says, motioning to a lady behind you. You turn around to look, seeing a very nice looking woman, waiting for you.

“Thank you.” You say, giving him a small smile.

“One more question before you go.” He says. “If you had to choose between Felix and Hyunjin, who would you choose?” He asks.

You laugh. You'd never thought you'd need to.

“Honestly?” You ask.

He nods his head.

“I could never choose. They have my whole heart.” You say, walking towards Chae Who was waiting for you.

You leave the main house, Chae showing you the guesthouse, which is where you were going to be staying.

“This entire place? For me?” You ask. She laughs. “Yes, Mrs. L/N, just for you. Is there anything I can get for you?”

“I'd just like to shower and maybe eat?” You say.

She nods her head, showing you the bathroom. “Take your time. I'll be back.” She says, turning to walk away. You get undressed, starting the large walk-In shower. It felt so nice to scrub the smell of dirt, worry, gasoline and stress off of your body. But you were still so worried about Hyunjin and Felix. Are they worried about you? Were they going to come get you? Did they even know where Soohyuk lived? You had so many questions, your body began to fill with anxiety once again.

You finished your shower quickly, grabbing a towel from the rack to cover yourself. When you opened the bathroom door, there stood Chae, a pile of clean clothes for you to wear.

“Thank you.” You whisper, smiling at her, taking the clothes and closing the door. You get dressed, and surprisingly they fit you perfectly. When you left the bathroom, you headed back to the living room where there was a platter of food waiting for you. You were too anxious to eat a full meal, so you decided just to snack on a few things.

“Can I call Felix and Hyunjin?” You ask nervously. You Knew the answer was going to be a no, but you needed to ask just to be sure.

“No contact until Mr. Soohyuk says it's okay.” She answers. You figured. But you knew you'd feel uneasy until you were able to talk to them, to tell them you were okay. And no one was going to hurt you.

Or so you thought.

It took a few days, but eventually you had been told there was going to be a race. Hyunjin and Felix had gotten a new car and were the first ones to race against some entry level racers. You were terrified for them, especially considering there were no rules.

“Yeah, okay fine.” Soohyuk snaps, holding a phone to your face.

“Baby, you're okay?” Hyunjin asks.

“We miss you so fucking much.” Felix groans.

“I'm okay, it's okay.” You smile. “Please be safe. I love you. I love you!” You yell as the phone is being pulled away from your face.

“There. Win this one and you'll see her again. Don't win and see what happens to her.” Soohyuk spits, hanging up the phone and sliding it into his pocket. You still weren't sure about Soohyuk. He was so happy one minute and then a split second later, he was screaming and raging out. You felt sorry for his wife, at least you were able to hide in the guesthouse. You went back to your bed, instead of watching the race. You couldn't take it, the anxiety of what would possibly happen if they lost. You laid on your bed, in the dark as you heard the cheering from the crowd who was watching. You must have dozed off, because when you woke up, there was a man you didn't recognize standing in your bedroom, a sinister smile on his face.

“You're lucky Felix and Hyunjin won tonight.” He chuckles. “Cause the second they don't win, you're mine to give them incentive.” He says, turning to walk away. “Oh.” he pauses, looking back at you. “And I like to play rough.”

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

The Anomaly || JJK

Chapter 8: Seance

summary : In which you're isekai'd from your (own) parallel Jujutsu Kaisen universe to the canon universe.

wordcount : 2.9k

Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader, eventually Character x Reader (idk who yet tho)

Masterlist | Next

Soon enough, you, Megumi, Yuuji and Ino are in front of the veil.

" Nope, it didn't even budge." 

Ino is watching with wide eyes as Yuuji punches the veil, which rumbles in response.

"N-nice try." 

It must be his first time seeing Yuuji's strength.

"  The veil's sturdy. We'll have to find a weak spot and put a hole in it, even for a moment. We can't do anything without getting inside."

While Megumi's speaking, Yuuji casually drop kicks a curse. You're not useless either. You've uncapped one of your two water skins, and have created a whiplash of the water, hitting curses left and right.

Ino glances at your skill, impressed. He's never seen anything like it before.

" Water Manipulation."

You answer the question he hasn't asked just yet.

His brows raise in surprise. He's never heard of that technique before.

Meanwhile, Yuuji blinks.

" Huh, why not?"

"Yuuji, this is the veil that keeps sorcerers from entering." 

You point out, cringing as Megumi's Demon Dog digs into the curse Yuuji just drop kicked like it's a meal.

"Veils are for cover and protection, right? Which fundamentally means that the one who deployed it must be inside." 

Soon enough everyone is brainstorming. It gets down to it that there's a good chance that the one who cast the veil is outside of it. Besides, if they were inside, Yuuji's punch must've worked. Which it didn't.

" By that logic, they must've centered it around a place that stands out, don't you think? because the increased risk of discovering would make it even stronger?"

You find yourself nodding to Megumi's words, eyes flicking to the high building behind you. If Megumi's words were true, then the building behind you would be a good, not so subtle, hiding spot.

" A place that stands out?"

All three guys follow your line of sight.

Cerulean Tower.

Soon enough, you've formed a plan together. Megumi would summon Nue, and Yuuji would use the cord he has kept around casually in his pocket (Maki said It'd be useful) to catch them off guard. You and Ino would take out the veil, which must be in some kind of bolt looking object, according to Yuuji. 

Soon enough, the plan is set in motion. Yuuji casually takes all three curse users by surprise, taking them with him with the cord, exactly according to plan. 

Ino glances at the odd bolt like sealed object.

"So this is the foundation of the veil?"

Yuuji nods, explaining that the conditions  for the veil were already inside.

soon enough, Ino breaks the object. 

However, the veil doesn't break.

" There must've been three."

You mumble, judging by the dots in the ground. You glance at the curse users, as do the others. Ino seems to catch sight of the curse user who's holding the remaining two at the same time you do. Yuuji is already chasing at the curse user by the time the two of you notice.

He calls something to Megumi as he launches himself and the curse user off the building, leaving you and Ino to deal with the two in front of you.

A grandma and her grandson, judging by the looks of it.

Literally, that's how they address one another.

" Now, I've got my underclassmen to look out for. I better snag some achievements and hit that first-grade rank." 

You're not sure why he's sharing this with you, or the curse users.

You don't bother asking, or uncapping either of your water skins. You need to be careful in your use of water. It's not like you can ever run out of a water source to be exact, but still.

You'd rather not turn to those measures.

Beside you, Ino summons something.

" Y/N. Join your classmates. I can handle this."

He'd rather keep all the first years together, just to be sure.

Your eyes flash with surprise. You glance at the curse users.

" Are you sure?" 

He nods.

You search his features before nodding. Turning around, you make quick work of jumping down. Still, you scream as you plummet right towards your friends. You hurriedly uncap one of your water skins, manipulating the water in it to the ground, the water reaching for you like an elegant wave. Megumi and Yuuji both seem surprised at your arrival.

" Wasn't the plan that you'd stay with Ino?" 

" he wanted me to join you two. What's the situation looking like?" You ask.

The two of them nod in front of them, towards the man who lies rolled up on the floor.

" Huh? His body is clean." 

You point out with a raised brow. Megumi nods.

"Exactly. Get up, sneaky old geezer!"

For a moment, the man doesn't respond. He simply remains there, ignoring Megumi's words.

" Good grief. Kids these days got no pity for us old folks." 

You watch as he gets up, snapping the wire around him like it's nothing.

" We can't waste time here."

" We won't. Y/N, follow me in."

You glance at Yuuji in surprise, before nodding, enforcing your whole body with cursed energy.

He must've remembered the training the two of you did not too long ago.

-

" Hey Y/N, we know you're pretty skilled with your cursed technique, but are you also good in hand to hand combat? Considering you always keep enemies at a distance." 

You glance up from where you're resting in the grassy field of the school, leaning against Nobara.

" What kind of question is that, Itadori? Do you want to fight her?" 

Nobara scowls at him from beside you. You smile at her expression.

Yuuji hurriedly shakes his head.

" Ah, no. I didn't mean it like that. I was just curious.-"

" I am. My mother wasn't sure if I would manifest a technique, so she made sure I knew how to handle myself if the other kids of the clan ever decided to pick on me. I used to fight a lot." 

Nobara raises a brow, turning to you in surprise.

" You did? You don't seem like the violent type."

" I'm not. At least, not anymore. I used to be before I manifested my cursed technique. I was a late bloomer as well, it didn't happen until I was 8.- But I used to pick a fight with any cousin who looked at me like I was dirt. That was a lot of cousins. Not Noritoshi though, we got along since the day we met. our mothers are fond of one another."

" Ah, right. You're part of the Kamo clan. what was your life like there?" 

You blink, shrugging.

" Hard. The Kamo clan hates me. My technique renders their own useless." 

They both nod. Truthfully, they don't really remember what the Kamo clan's technique was. Nor do they really care.

" Anyway-" 

You get up, dusting off your clothes as you turn to face him.

" You wanna try fighting me?" 

Yuuji blinks.

" Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you." 

" For that you need to be able to hit me first.-"

You grin at him.

" -Besides, I'm you twi- Sukuna's best friend. You think he ever goes soft on me during training?" 

Yuuji hums, grinning as he too gets up.

Nobara moves to the side of the field, your water skins laid beside her.

Megumi blinks, approaching the scene as he rubs his shoulder.

" What're they doing now?" 

" Training. How was your training with Maki?"

He grits his teeth, flexing his arm.

" Instructive." 

She smiles.

And then you and Yuuji move. 

You're surprisingly quick on your feet without your water skins adding extra weight on you. You dance around Yuuji like some kind of dancer, jumping around weightlessly as you avoid his hits and kicks. Sometimes, you dab at him right after you've avoided yet another punch.

Eventually, you haven't necessarily beaten Yuuji. However, he gives up, dizzy from the countless circling movements you move in.

-

Eventually, you end up making an easy gateway for Yuuji to punch through, time and time again. In between You and Yuuji's combined attacks, Megumi makes his way through with demon dog, along with aiming at him with a cursed tool. The old man is swift as well, avoiding most hits, and for some reason remaining unaffected by any other punch that does hit him.

Eventually, he takes out a pocket knife, shallowly slicing through Yuuji. Yuuji doesn't seem affected, back to punching him in the same second. Megumi comes between the two smoothly, Megumi's toad shikigami slinging the curse user into the wall.

" Itadori!"

" No worries, just a scratch." 

You follow the man's movements with your eyes, uncapping a water skin to heal the shallow cut on Yuuji anyway within seconds.

Yuuji nods at you in thanks.

" Such power. Such promising features."

How was this man still uninjured?

" Makes killing you all more worth it." 

Beside Yuuji, you can see Megumi puzzle as well from the corner of your eye.

Was he uninjured because of some kind of cursed technique?

" Demon Dog's claws can injure even special grades.."

" I hit him with all I got too.." 

" Then why..?" 

You can hear the frustration in Megumi's voice.

You wonder the same thing.

" Then how is he completely unscathed?"

You furrow your brows.

" He can't have something like cursed energy nullification.. right?"

All you get in response are furrowed brows of concern.

And then the man's on you again.

" We were free. But that freedom was taken from us! By Gojo Satoru!"

He manages to whack a kick right into Yuuji's face, Megumi's sword slicing right through the fence behind him.

" I will never retire!-" 

Megumi blocks his kick, the blunt back of his sword hitting the old man right in the head.

Sadly, he doesn't relent in his nonsense.

" I'll trample over the weak until the day I die!"

He manages to break free from Megumi, though Megumi does end up slicing him right across the face with his blade. You kick him away, creating a small distance again.

" Seriously, what's with this guy?! I get that he's tough, but there has to be more to it!" 

For a moment, you and Megumi try to puzzle his technique together, considering it has to have to do something with that.

"Hey! Gojo Satoru is here in Shibuya! You better leave the foundations for the veil behind and run!"

Both you and Yuuji glance at Megumi in question.

" What lousy bluff. Gojo Satoru is sealed. You guys yelled it out for the world to hear. Why do you think we curse users are out? Otherwise I would be sleeping."

So he can't beat Gojo sensei. It can't be cursed energy nullification.

" Fushiguro~, you suck at lying." 

Yuuji's pouting, laying a hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"It's okay though. You tried."

He's being dramatic, all puppy eyes. You can't help but giggle slightly at the behavior. Megumi seems more annoyed by it.

" Shut up."

" If you don't want to fight, I'll kill you now." 

" get ready."

You do just as Yuuji says, this time uncapping one of your water skins.- But then Megumi's eyes widen.

" Rabbit escape." 

At once, multiple rabbits hop up, out of Megumi's shadow, they block the man's vision. One ends up in Yuuji's arms, and you pick one up too. It's surprisingly soft. You didn't except shikigami to actually be soft. (  You've asked your universe's Megumi to let you pet his rabbits. He's always said no.) 

You glance at Megumi in surprise.

" Did you figure out his technique?" 

He nods, tugging Yuuji back by his hood.

Inverse, that's his technique. The harder you punch, the less damage he receives.

Megumi has a plan, one you can follow with ease. Act like you don't know. You will land an exceptionally useless attack, Yuuji a rough one, and Megumi in between. It should render his technique.

It takes only a few moments, and then you're back. Megumi opens the attack, landing max elephant right on the man's head.

The man grins.

" Is that all that you've got?" 

Max elephant dissipates. 

" Come down and face me like a real man!" 

The man yells up to where Megumi is currently stood on top of a lantern pole. Megumi simply points down.

" That's more their style." 

Yuuji straight up throws a car at him. 

Where he gets the strength from, you don't know. 

You follow him in, your water skin uncapped as you chase after him, a long elegant line of water following you at your command. Megumi and Yuuji follow in too, charging up for what would be 'the final blow'. All three of you at once, locking him in position. At the very last minute, your manipulation on the water loosens. It turns into one big splash, only strong enough to push over a young child at most. Megumi summons a toad shikigami at the last second, and Yuuji punches him square in the stumic.

The attack works. He's coughing up blood. You don't stop there, the three of you each punch him one by one, landing a hit square on him.

He doesn't like it.

" Don't get cocky over that, you brats!"

The three of you jump away. Yuuji charges up with cursed energy, pretending to hit him square in the face once more. However, just before his fist is about to make contact with the man's face, he drops all cursed energy. The power behind it disappears, instead landing a raw punch square on the man's face.

it seems like Megumi's plan worked out.

" You're surprisingly adept." 

" Really?" 

Yuuji cocks his head at Megumi's words. 

You smile, about to add on to their conversation, when you feel something.

It's like a call, pulling at your cursed energy.

Your smile falters, turning around in the directions where you can feel it coming from.

Was there perhaps another you in this universe with cursed energy? Or was it someone else?

-

" Pickled mustard leaf?"

Sukuna is angry. And disgusted. And irritated. especially irritated. How dare you disappear at the hands of the cursed spirit, causing him to chase after you? He's got zero idea what's wrong with Shibuya today. He can't leave, because of the stupid veil that keeps him from leaving. He's beating up curses left and right. ripping through them with a wicked blade, it's edges reversed, jagged, meant to inflict pain on curses ( for his own sick amusement, you cringe at it every time you see it.) there's something odd about the curses he's ripping through though. They're bleeding. 

Nonetheless, he keeps going, only pausing to look at Inumaki.

" Who the fuck you callin' Yuuji?!" 

For a split moment, tension between them rises. Sukuna raises his free hand, probably to swing it down for added dramatics, when he pauses, completely stilling. his eyes are fixed on his bracelet, the water in it swishing in a particular direction, even when he stands still. Sukuna's eyes are wide, realization hitting him.

Meanwhile Inumaki studies Sukuna. He looks like Yuuji, and he looks like Ryomen Sukuna, Yet he's completely different. He's much more buff, and for some reason, he's tall, taller than Inumaki, and taller than the Yuuji he knows. This must be your Sukuna. His tattoos are similar, yet not the same. There's no mark on his forehead, no slits under his eyes that should represent another pair of eyes. 

Meanwhile, Sukuna's focus shifts to Inumaki, his gaze hard. He still has no idea what's going on. As far as he's concerned. He's in his Shibuya. He has no idea about what's going on just yet.

" Where's Y/N?" 

Inumaki tenses.

He's heard that your Sukuna is different, kinder even, yet he's still intimidated. He's got no cursed energy. Yet the blood that's staining the jagged side of his blade, splatters of it on his face and clothes too, make him appear much more menacing than most sorcerers he's had to face. Especially with the cold look in his eyes.

He looks like he's ready to kill him.

[ A/N: Smoll heads up, I'm only catching up to what happens after Shibuya now and well,, err- it's a puzzle for the story line. After the Shibuya incident, updates will be slow.

ps. Would you be interested in silly little drabbles to keep you guys engaged in the story about Y/N in her universe? ]

Tag list:

@luxylucylou @kalulakunundrum @strxbxrrylover @aethersslave @jenniferrvsesi @hanatsuki-hime @betizda

[ashleyfilm]

Seeing Clearly - Chapter 9. The Bison

Hi Everyone! Happy Friday! Enjoy a little bit of Jealous Joel today :)

Chapter Warnings: cursing, angst, alcohol consumption, negative talk about body image (not by Joel) - Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!OC Plus Size Reader

Chapter Summary: A night at the Tipsy Bison brings you closer to Joel and his family. 2.3K

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8

Chapter 9. The Tipsy Bison

You have your first patrol with Joel in the morning. It’s weird, feeling excited and nervous at the same time. You want to feel like you’re contributing but it’s scary beyond the walls and you didn’t realize how much you’ve started to familiarize with the comfort that Jackson brings. On the other hand, you feel similarly conflicting feelings about seeing your patrol partner. Joel Fucking Miller. He’s under your skin. He’s made you feel safe, made you feel alive, but he's also pulled the rug out from under you, abandoned you, and hurt you. And after last night when he came to your room, open and honest, you let him right back in. He’s so infuriating. He’s funny and warm and fucking sexy and then he’s cold, mean, detached. It’s like fucking whiplash.

As you wrestle with all these thoughts inside the dining hall, Maria notices you. “Ash, hey, you okay? She asks softly, not wanting to startle you. You meet her gaze and realize everything you’d been thinking is written all over your face. God, why am I like this? “Hi Maria, I’m fine, just nervous about patrol. Not to say that I’m not up for it, it’s fine just a little anxious that’s all.” You say this all very quickly, not wanting her to think you’re weak. Maria puts her hand on your shoulder lightly, its oddly so comforting in this moment. She’s really got that motherly instinct watching her other hand rub her belly. “Hey, listen, it’s fine to be nervous, I get nervous every time Tommy goes out. It’s incredibly brave of you to volunteer to go out there, especially so soon after arriving here. How about we go for a drink at the Bison, I’ll be your DD and make sure you get home safe,” she laughs. “Sure, that sounds good, Maria, thanks.” You smile at her, finishing up your food and clearing your table before walking with her across the street to the Bison.

Maria and You have been talking for the better part of an hour now and you’ve learned so much about her. That she used to be a District Attorney, okay – go off, that she’s been in Jackson since its beginning, and even that she lost her son in all the madness of the end of the world. You can’t believe how open and blunt she is, she doesn’t mince words, she’s tough but still loving, and she’s an instant friend, you know that now. The two of you are cackling when Tommy and Joel walk in together. Tommy with a million-watt smile starts laughing as he walks up to the two of you. “Ladies, what’s got you all in stiches’ this evenin’. You know, my wife shouldn’t be drinking right now,” he says to you, smirking. Maria trying to contain her laughter, “Honey, it’s not my fault, Ash is just that funny.” Tommy gives her a kiss and responds, “Well, I’m happy to see you two hit it off so well, right, Joel?” Joel, who is standing awkwardly and looking around the bar huffs, “Yeah, sure.” Maria says, “Well, come on, join us!”

Joel and Tommy, both join you at the table for four Tommy next to Maria and Joel next to you, as Joel speaks quietly to you, “We’ve got patrol in the morning, I don’t want to be dealing with your hangover tomorrow,” eyeing the whiskey in your glass. You scoff as you push your glasses up nose, “Oh be quiet, Dad, it’s my second glass in over an hour, I’ll be fine.” Tommy and Maria share a knowing look and try to contain their laughter as Joel glares at them. “Fine, but don’t complain to me when you’ve got a headache tomorrow.” You roll your eyes dramatically, down the rest of your drink and stand up, “I’m off to get another drink anyone want anything?” Joel stares at you and you stare at him. Tommy finally speaks up, “I’ll go with you.” Still staring at Joel like you’re daring him to say something, you begin to walk off toward the bar with Tommy in tow.

As you wait for your drinks Tommy clears his throat, great here it comes, “Listen, Ash, I know Joel can be a bit uptight,” at this you laugh through a scoff. He continues, “Look, I know he’s a lot, but he means well.” “Does he?” you start to speak but Tommy stops you, “All I’m asking is that you give him a break. It’s obvious he cares about you.” At this your eyes flick to Tommy’s in shock, he tries his best to contain the upturn of his lip. “When I told him about you volunteerin’ for patrol, he lost his shit, and not because you can’t handle yourself, we all know better than that. He was worried. I know he’s got a shit way of showin’ it, but you mean somethin’ to him. And if you give him time, I promise he’ll come around.” You nod, looking away to find Joel, but while Maria is chatting with a woman passing by the table, Joel is starring fucking daggers at someone. You follow his gaze to find, ugh, no, Brad or wait, Ryan. And Ryan, is looking right at you smiling with his table full of bro buddies.

Thankfully your drinks arrive then, and you grab them and walk back to the table. Trying to ignore Ryan and his pals as you walk past. Sitting down with your drink and Joel’s matching one you ask Joel, “Who popped your balloon?” He looks at you, confused and Tommy laughs. You’re smirking at Joel and his eyes betray him, like they always do and soften as he shakes his head, “It’s nothin’,” smiling slightly. He goes to sip his whiskey, and you watch his mouth, god his lips are beautiful. Pouty, soft, perfect. You can remember how they felt on you. Your mouth parts as you watch him, totally entranced. Then you realize Maria is talking to you. You look over at her and Tommy who are looking at you with sly little smiles, and you know you’re caught. Joel, thankfully oblivious, asks the two of them, “What is going on, why are ya’ll acting so fuckin’ weird?” You swallow and before anyone can say anything, Ryan comes over to the table with a stupid grin on his dumb face. His friends pretending not to watch whatever is about to go down.

“Ash, hey, Tommy, Maria,” he nods to both then looks at Joel, “uh, Joel.” Tommy and Maria nod back at Ryan but they look at you and Joel, noticing how you look unimpressed, and Joel looks like he might take Ryan’s head off. Tommy stiffens, bracing for impact. Ryan turns back to you, putting his hand on the table near you and leaning in, he says, “It’s good to see you, you look great,” eyes grazing up and down your form. Joel then puts his arm around the back or your chair. You notice it and look back at him but he’s looking right at Ryan. “Look, I was wondering if you’d want to get a drink with me sometime.” He looks back at his friends with a grin as if he’s got this in the bag. You start to speak, and Joel finally looks at you, seems like he’s holding his breath, you look back at Ryan. “That’s really nice of you but I’m not really interested right now. But thank you.” Ryan and Joel’s eyes both go wide but Ryan looks shocked, and Joel looks pleased. You hear a chuckle from Ryan’s table of dudes, but they’ve all looked away at this point. Ryan puts on a fake smile, but his eyes look filled with anger. “No problem, sweetheart, you have a good night.” His hand grips the table hard and then let’s go to walk back to his table, punching one of his friends in the arm that laughed at him and mumbles something to the group.

You look back to the table and Tommy and Maria are grinning at you. “What?” you say looking at them. But Joel speaks up first, “Nothin’, don’t mind them. You two,” scowling at Tommy and Maria, “mind your business.” Tommy and Maria exchange a look and small smiles as they go back to talking about something to do with the town council. And you look at Joel, a small smile on your lips, thankful that he took the attention away from you. He waits till Tommy and Maria aren’t paying attention, he looks to you and gives you a subtle wink, bringing his drink back to his lips. Your stomach flips and you hope you don’t look too flustered. For the rest of the evening, Joel never takes his arm off the back of your chair.

At the end of that third drink, you decide it’s time to go home. This being one of the nicest nights you’ve had since you arrived, spending time with your most favorite people and actually seeing Joel smile and laugh in between his eyerolls and sighs. You trot off to the bathroom before leaving and as you walk back, you catch Ryan scowling at you. It appears he’s had a bit too much to drink at this point. Loudly he speaks to his table saying, “I didn’t want the fat bitch anyway, was just curious what it would feel like, don’t even know how she keeps that weight on.” A couple of the friends at his table laugh, two others look uncomfortable, one man, a few years older than the rest, smacks Ryan on the shoulder, admonishing his behavior. Then you look around, stopped in your tracks and realize that everyone is looking at you, at your body. And you know that almost everyone heard what that asshole had to say. It’s not his words that hurt, it’s the attention they bring to you, the questioning looks from everyone else that make tears prick at your eyes.

Joel is already walking over to you, Tommy, close behind. Joel touches your arm and speaks lowly, “You good?” You nod, eyelids fluttering to try and keep your tears at bay. He looks up at Ryan, but you whisper to him, quiet but firm, “Joel, don’t. It’s not worth it.” Joel exhales out his nose, clearly fuming. But he nods and starts to walk you out the door, not before giving Tommy a look, silently asking him to handle it with Ryan. Maria comes up to your side linking her fingers with yours, Joel still has a steady arm around your shoulder. You turn your head into Maria’s shoulder as your tears start to fall. Maria says, “I got it from here Joel.” He looks like he might protest but he lets you go. Watching as Maria walks you toward your apartment.

By the time you get home, Maria makes you some sleepy time tea, insisting on talking a bit more before leaving you on your own. You’ve had this conversation before, with others. You’ve exhausted this topic over the course of your life, Before and After. But now, with Maria’s deep and beautiful eyes, your new friend, looking at you, you know she’s genuinely there for you. So, you start explaining how ever since puberty you’ve always been a larger person. Bigger than most of your friends. Plush, fat, curvy, plus size, however you want to put it. Men pointing it out to you, women much smaller than you telling you they admire you. Losing a tiny bit of weight and having a girlfriend call you skinny. You haven’t been “skinny” since you were fucking 10 years old. And now, at the end of the world, where people are starving, and you have to move your body to survive, you still have extra weight. It became something that kept people from trusting you. Thinking you stole food, or you didn’t do your part. You thought Jackson might be different. But tonight, all those feelings come back. And even though you love your body, and had lovers over the years, men and women, who showed you how much they liked your body and the effect it had on them, you still feel inadequate or that people may find you unattractive. You’re not proud that those thoughts still get to you, but they do.

When you feel you’ve gotten it all out, you take your glasses off and put your head down on the table next to your cup of tea and start laughing. Maria puts a hand on your head in it a comforting pet. And you raise back up. “Well, now you know this about me. It’s funny, I’ve survived over 20 years of a zombie apocalypse and I’m still fucking struggling with body image issues. Jesus.” Maria smiles at you now. A soft, sweet smile. She knows there’s nothing to say. There never is. This is a reality for you, and you just need to talk it out with someone you trust, and damn you really do trust Maria. She leaves you with a hug by the door and you assuring her, you’ll be fine to do patrol tomorrow, “Getting out might actually be good for me.” You finally go to bed that night thinking of Joel, the wink, his arm on your chair, that he seems to detest Ryan even more than you do. It makes you smile, and you can’t help but hope Joel doesn’t see you the same way Ryan does. You know Joel would never behave like Ryan but it’s a fact that people have their preferences. And maybe that’s why Joel pushed you away in the first place. Fuck. Well, now you’re not nervous for patrol, you just want to get through the fucking day.

Taglist: @somedayheaven @guelyury @elegantduckturtle @indiegirlunited @cheekychaos28 @ghostofzion @harriedandharassed @missladym1981 @littlemisspascal

[currentfications]

Ocean Eyes | Part 8

Pairing: Bada Lee x Producer!Reader

Synopsis: At team BEBE’s practice, the girls have a little gossip among themselves

Warning: None? But y/n is not in this chapter because I am not feeling well and just wanted to write a little something for funsies- sorry y’all ( ･᷄ὢ･᷅ )

AN: Am not good at writing conflict so the original part 8 is scraped hehe instead I’m procrastinating and decided to write a light hearted dribble with the girlies instead~ thanks for tuning in again ^_^

Previous | Next

Tatter smelled something suspicious in the air following Bada’s MIA status after their Performance Battle. Yes, the team did witness Bada landing on her chin during one of the routines- and it’s not that the BEBE member didn’t believe in said injury- it’s the fact that their team leader was oddly giddy after the fall. Like, straight up lowering-her-cap-by-the-rim-to-hide-her-smirk-lip-biting-giddy. ‘No one should be that cheerful after tearing a muscle’, Tatter had decided. ‘Therefore, Bada must be suspicious’, she further deduced.

“Look at her trying to play coy with us,” Tatter leaned over to their team’s sub-leader and muttered, frowning at the charm which the choreographer seemed to be exuding lately. Looking pointedly at their team leader, who’s currently snapping a selfie in the studio mirrors (presumably to post it on her instagram later), Tatter narrowed her eyes. Bada had always been a heartthrob to the camera and fans, but the blonde dancer had noticed a telltale spike these past weeks. “Look at all that swag, she must be overcompensating for something.”

Looking up from her stretches, Lusher followed Tatter’s gaze towards their team leader in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, whose mood did seem to be extraordinarily pleasant as of late. “Oh- Oh damn. Sorry for calling you crazy last week, you were clearly onto something.” Lusher squinted at Bada’s obnoxiously preppy footsteps in the morning. “Prancing around on a Monday? Somebody got laid over the weekend.”

‘Who could it be?’ Tatter wondered to herself as she finished warming up for the day. ‘Bada’s reaction to the bouquet and the card- what an interesting reaction.’

“Whoever it is,” Lusher pressed her palms together dramatically and said a little prayer, “thank you for keeping her happy, and our lives easier.”

“Amen to that,” Minah chimed in. “You reckon it’s someone from the show?”

“Elaborate.”

As the duo bickered among themselves regarding the identity of Bada’s newest scandal, Tatter continued to ponder over the pieces of information she had accumulated. Her eyes lit up as she recalled Latrice’s request, and something involving a skirt.

“Lusher,” Tatter interjected a debate between Minah’s team-Redy and Lusher’s team-Audrey. “Do you remember that time Bada asked to borrow your skirt?”

Lusher snapped around with speed that almost warranted whiplash. “Latrice’s friend!” Her hand flew to her phone by the dance studio’s floor length mirror, flicking through her contact list. “Aha.”

Latrice was at the shops when her phone chimed. Reading the message popping up on the phone, she chuckled a little and clocked the noseyness instantly. Within a few moments, Latrice had sent through your best ‘this is her’ photos and social media profiles to the team BEBE’s subleader.

Tatter and Lusher hummed squinted their eyes at your picture, trying to pinpoint why’d you look familiar. A shockingly good candid photo of you attending an event was pulled up on Lusher’s phone. A gray suit sat on your shoulder, accompanied by a scowl as the photographer had caught you off guard (cr 📷: Latrice). “I think I’d remember if she’s been around,” Minah wondered aloud.

“Elevator, real tall.” The usually timid Sowoen piped in unexpectedly. “The one with mother Miranda vibes.”

Now that registered in Lusher’s mind. “Wait,” Lusher zoomed in on your picture, “does Latrice have more friends in town?”

“Mhmm- I dig the delinquency,” Tatter said, still staring at the phone. “Bada finally found her match huh.”

“I’m giving my number to her,” Sowoen announced. The youngest is filled with surprise today.

Tatter and Lusher glanced at each other before bursting out into a fit of giggles. “We are pretty sure Bada is linking up with her, what do you mean you’re giving her your number?”

“I called dibs!” The youngest of the group wailed, her teammates now laughing at her flushed red cheeks.

The noise attracted their team leader, who have finally decided to investigate the shenanigans that the girls have been up to.

“What’s the gripe? Who do we hate?” The tall choreographer butted between Sowoen and Minah, expecting another Selena-Hailey debate going on among the dancers, only to be shocked when Lusher turned her phone screen to her. “Woah! How’d we get this?”

Sowoen gently prodded a finger at Bada’s shoulder. “Bada-unnie,” she quietly, but firmly, requested for Bada’s attention. “They said you’ve been linking up with her. Respectfully, that’s not cool man, I called dibs.”

The group stared wide eyed at the baby of their team, who’d suddenly found her voice in the team- and immediately chose to use it to declare her utmost disappointment at their team leader’s disrespect.

“Wait. Pause. Rewind. how did the conversation get here in the first place?”

“I find you suspicious these days,” Tatter shrugged.

“Can you still pass my number along?”

“I have no idea what’s going on but I’m loving your energy,” Lusher and Minah egged on. A ‘go Sowoen’ was muttered by one of them.

Bada stares incredulously at her teammates, “y’all this is the toxic gossip train-”

“Nope,” Tatter cuts her short, not giving Bada a chance to finish her sentence. “That’s not how that saying is used.”

“We won’t gossip if you give us the tea,” Minah proposed an alternative.

“There’s no tea!” Bada shook her head at the girls, raising a hand in defense. “Look, it’s nothing serious, and I won't let it affect my work. Can we please get back to brainstorming some Rihanna songs?”

The group gasped, Sowoen looking over at Tatter for moral support. “So there is something going on?”

“Oh come on,” Bada sighed exasperatedly, sticking her tongue against the hollow of her cheeks. “We’ve been filming for months, do you know how hard it is to find someone who can work around my schedule?”

“You have a schedule… to fuck?” Minah side-eyed her team leader. Tatter swiftly placed her hands over Sowoen’s ears. “That changed my perception of you- Not sure what kind of change- but not for the better, I can assure you.”

“Jesus, that’s not what I mean,” Bada rolled her eyes at the girls, defending her image in Sowoen’s eyes. “As much as I love dancing, a woman has needs, alright? Hey- no, don’t boo me Lusher. I saw the way you acted around Chocol. You little sl- I said don’t boo me!”

“Eh,” Tatter shrugged her shoulders and pointed her chin at the phone screen, “lesbians? Give ‘em two weeks, three more dates, and they’ll be u-hauling.”

Bada gasped, “accusatory and stereotyping.”

“Hey wanna bet that bada is going to use winning the show to get laid?” Ignoring their leader, the girls giggled amongst themselves.

“If we win-”

Minah was cut off by Bada. “-when we win.”

Sowoen gasped and pointed a finger at the team BEBE leader. “So you are planning on doing that!”

The girls watched their team leader dumbly open and shut her mouth as she attempted to come up with a witty comeback. When she drew a blank, she huffed and retreated to the speakers across the room, fiddling with the Bluetooth settings as she tried to keep her hands busy.

“Bada-unnie,” Sowoen cleared her throat before throwing in one last jab, “if it’s just a fling you won’t mind me asking her out, right?”

Tatter learned two things that practice: 1, Bada, despite contrary beliefs, bottoms (frequency still unknown, but seemingly not zero). 2, Sowoen is a milf hunter.

‘What a week!’ Tatter thought to herself. ‘And it’s only Monday.’

Tag list: @bada-lee-ily @lil-elliesgf @rubywonu @wiselight @avocifera

[aihoshiino]

chapter 151 thoughts

Chapters Since The 143 Kiss Happened And Went Entirely Unacknowledged And Unaddressed Count: 8

Aqua Hoshigan Status: Black

Kana enjoyers continue to eat good in this new arc, as 151 very clearly parallels what's considered one of the more iconic AquKana chapters from the first half of the manga with a bit of role reversal in the mix. 'Reversal' is sort of the keyword for this chapter for a handful of reasons but we'll get into that when it's relevant.

the usual shout out to mengo for Peak Faces this chapter. my faves were kana's blushy face as she takes off her glasses and aqua covering his blush with his baseball glove… it does NOT get cuter than that.

It's pretty cathartic to see Kana get a similar TV spotlight to BH!Ruby, where she's centered in B-Komachi's success and Ruby is sort of just in the background lol. That said… kinda of hate that OnK is continuing to frame the ShimaD shit!!! I have a lot of complicated feelings about it but I will say that overall, it's pretty fucked that the story made all those correct assertions about sexual harassment in the entertainment industry and how women and young girls specifically are pressured to kowtow to men to retain their place in the industry and then like… not? link any of this?? to what happened to Kana??? Weird and bad!!!!

on the plus side. megarima and maskua <3

It feels like a good step for Kana to confidently assert that they are, in fact, on a date and their shared visible embarrassment is pretty cute. This is what I meant when I said this chapter was a bit of a reversal of chapter 30, which Aqua even calls explicit attention to - running from school to play catch vs running to school. It works well, imo, as a sort of marker of both change and consistency for both of these characters, showing us how far they've come… but at the same time, how much has managed to stay the same. This return to the early AQKN dynamic is really nice… their moment to moment rapport is the one I enjoy most in the series so even though it's definitely jarring to whiplash back to it after the Movie Arc… idk!! I am still enjoying it all the same.

aqua calling her out on it being a baseball date was really funny btw

And their talk about dreams is… Very Shrimptresting. I keep waffling back and forth on what to take from it, because hypothetically I think it's really interesting but whether or not I really end up liking it is going to depend on how things are handled with Aqua going forward…! IDK, this is the obvious pitfall of analyzing the story like this week to week,

I guess all I'll say now is that this falls in line with how I was reading last chapter's framing of Gorou -> Aqua, where Aqua's inheritance of that identity is just that - an inheritance and it's up to him what he chooses to do with that legacy. He can decide for himself what parts of it he wants to take with him into the future and what he chooses to leave behind.

That said: this is still black hoshigan Aqua. Is this just a 'dream' because it's something he wants but doesn't think he'll be able to have? Or is Aqua starting to seriously consider a future for himself past the end of his revenge quest? It was Kana who prompted him for an answer, after all, and he's already had to make a promise to her that he won't 'disappear'. Is he just lying here to put her at ease? Much to consider…….

Kana's side of this conversation is also really interesting. Kana is a person who acts out of genuine love for her craft, yes, but she's also correct that she kind of already got her assumed end goal of 'be a nationally famous actress' when she was a kid and it didn't necessarily make her happy or fulfilled. To a degree, she's been operating on momentum and desperation to cling to the industry so much of her identity was formed around. But if a 'dream' is something she just wants for herself, without her career coming into it… then what does Kana really want?

And the answer, obviously, is Aqua. With another 'oshi no ko' title drop, to boot…!

It's a little sad that even as Kana makes this tentative confession to him, she still downplays herself in favour of Memcho and Ruby but the emotional stakes she's putting on the table are very loaded. This essentially, without either girl knowing it, puts her in direct competition with Ruby who very much seems to still want to milk her sensei's Little Aqua and I don't imagine that conflict is going to go off without fireworks.

Interestingly, though, this isn't the only point on which the two are opposed here: this is what I mean when I said this chapter's keyword was 'reversal'. While Ruby insists that 'Sensei' is her oshi, Kana offers to be Aqua's oshi. This isn't the first time it's happened, either - when Kana talks about her feelings last chapter, she describes them as 本気の恋 (honki no koi), i.e, seriously, earnestly, truly in love whereas Ruby's confession uses the term ガチ恋 (gachikoi), a slang term referring to a fan who considers themselves to be legitimately in romantic love with a celebrity/idol/etc - and specifically says she's gachikoi for Sensei. Gachikoi is also how the first generation of B-Komachi are described in both Viewpoint B and 45510 in the original Japanese text. On just about all fronts, these two are bound to clash going into the final arc of the story and I'm tentatively interested to see where it goes.

No break next week!

[msilwrites]

Papa Bear Material Ch 8 (Captain Price Fic) - Whiplash

Chapter 1  Chapter 1 (Shorter Version) Chapter 2  Chapter 3   Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 9 Chapter 10  Chapter 11 (Last Chapter)

@darkangel4121@teenagellamaangel@madzzz0797@callsignferal(To the other’s who want me to tag you when there’s an update, just tell me at the comments)

A/N: Hi guys! Sorry for the delay in updating. I wanted to make sure I did proper research on how an actual OPS (operation) goes down, so I could make the scene as realistic and detailed as possible. I tried to break it down so it's easy to understand and hopefully paint a vivid picture. Apologies if it’s a bit long, but HERE is a little bit of a spoiler; if you stick with it, there’s something funny at the end, so be patient! Or, if you're not feeling patient, just skip to the bottom and get your laugh. 😂 Thanks for reading! ----------

Y/N couldn’t ignore the progress her team was making. Their drills were faster, sharper, and far more coordinated than before. It was such a stark improvement that even they started teasing her about it.

But Y/N knew exactly why.

Price was relentless. Every drill, every scenario, he dissected her tactics with ruthless precision. A gap in her perimeter? Exploited. A hesitation in her decision-making? Targeted. Overreliance on sweeping and clearing? He turned it against her without hesitation.

It wasn’t just a training exercise anymore—it was personal.

Her team noticed too. While they kept things professional, the pattern was clear: Price wasn’t just testing the squad; he was laser-focused on her. The way he singled her out made her grit her teeth, though she kept her expression neutral. Giving him the satisfaction of a reaction wasn’t an option.

Still, his determination forced her to adapt. After every drill, she analyzed his methods, shored up the weaknesses he’d exposed, and adjusted her approach. Sometimes, she even managed to outmaneuver him, claiming small victories.

But those victories were fleeting. Every time she won, he came back harder, forcing her to lose twice over. It was infuriating, a game of tug-of-war where he refused to let her gain any ground for long.

And yet, she refused to back down. If Price wanted to play this game, so be it.

That afternoon, after the morning drill and a quiet lunch, Y/N stayed in her cubicle. She avoided the rooftop entirely, certain Price would be there, ready to disrupt her peace. Instead, she sat at her desk, pretending to focus on paperwork while her thoughts churned.

Always one step ahead, she thought, her jaw tightening. The frustration simmered as she replayed the challenge in her mind.

She hadn’t cared much about winning or losing before. Her focus had always been on her team—protecting her people, completing the drills, and moving forward. But now? With this ridiculous deal hanging over her head, the thought of losing felt unbearable.

Her hand hovered over the edge of her desk as an idea began to form. If Price won, she wouldn’t owe him anything—not really. She’d play along until her reservist ended, then disappear. Block him, ignore his calls, and ghost him completely. It would be clean and final. No date. No follow-up. No Price.

A flicker of satisfaction tugged at her lips. If he thought a few drills and some clever teasing were enough to wear her down, he had another thing coming. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of winning—not in the way he wanted, at least.

I’m a woman of my word, she mused, leaning back in her chair, but that doesn’t mean I’m playing by his rules.

Her plan solidified with each passing second. She wouldn’t engage. She’d leave him on read, let his messages pile up unanswered, and ignore his calls entirely. Let him deal with the frustration of being left in the dark.

He’d think he’d won—that his persistence and charm had paid off—but she’d pull the rug out from under him. No explanations, no closure. Just silence.

She smirked faintly at the thought, her resolve hardening. Price might be relentless, but so was she. If he wanted to play games, she’d make sure he left empty-handed.

With a quick glance at the clock, Y/N straightened in her seat, readying herself for the next round of drills. If Price thought he could push her into a corner, he was about to learn just how wrong he was.

----------

Y/N had managed to win two rounds of drills, narrowing the gap between their scores. One more win, and she’d even the playing field—or lose and be stuck honoring that ridiculous date. Or not. Disappearing was still an option, and her mind was already spinning with plans on how to make that happen.

The next day, however, brought an unexpected twist. There were no drills. Instead, the entire unit was called in for a counter-terrorism operation. The situation was serious—real, not simulated—and the urgency was clear. They needed to act swiftly, decisively, and most importantly, quietly. Resolving the threat before the media caught wind of it was critical.

Y/N was already gearing up when she noticed Price’s absence. For once, he wasn’t on base, and the thought gave her a small measure of relief. She didn’t know when he’d return—not that it mattered. By the time he did, she’d be gone, fully immersed in the operation.

Her focus sharpened as she prepared for what lay ahead. There was no room for distractions, no space for personal frustrations. The mission came first, and she intended to give it her all. If Price did show up later, it wouldn’t be her problem. She’d be in the field, doing what she did best.

One more drill can wait, she thought, strapping on her gear. For now, the stakes were higher than a petty competition. ----------

The operation unfolded like clockwork. Three teams, each with their assigned roles, moved into position with precision. Y/N and her team touched down on the rooftop helipad, the unmarked helicopter disappearing into the distance as soon as they disembarked. The air was brisk, and the city below carried on, blissfully unaware of the chaos lurking within the office building.

"Alpha One moving," her teammate reported over comms as he and another operator headed toward the fire exit on the rooftop, preparing to descend.

"Alpha Two in position," came the confirmation from the second half of their helipad team, who were securing their entry through the service access point.

"Alpha Three ready," Y/N whispered into her mic, her voice calm despite the slight tremor of nerves beneath the surface. She secured the rope to an anchor point on the rooftop, double-checking every knot.

Her smaller, lighter frame made her the ideal choice for the rope descent. Her teammates, though strong and capable, weren’t the ideal for this kind of maneuver. She, however, was.

“This isn’t a roller coaster at the theme park,” she muttered under her breath, tightening her grip on the rope and edging closer to the drop. At least here, she had control over the outcome.

The snipers’ voices crackled in her ear. “Targets confirmed on the ninth and tenth floors. Two on nine, three patrolling ten.”

“Copy that,” Y/N replied, her hands tightening further on the rope.

One of the snipers added, “We can’t fire clean. They’re grouped too tight. If we take one, the others will know before we can cycle the next round. It’ll blow the whole op.”

Y/N understood immediately. The targets’ close proximity and overlapping patrol routes made it nearly impossible for the snipers to eliminate them without alerting the rest. This wasn’t about precision—it was about timing, speed, and silence.

“That’s why you’ve got me,” she said, her voice dry but focused.

With a deep breath, she stepped backward over the edge and began her descent. Feet pressed firmly against the glass exterior, she moved smoothly downward, her body angled and controlled. Each step and slide was deliberate as she relied on the rope for balance, her rifle secured but ready.

“Ninth floor, second office from the left. Two targets,” one of the snipers reported.

“On it,” she replied, her voice steady.

Pausing her descent, she angled her body, flipping upside down with practiced ease. Her rifle was in position within seconds.

“Hold fire,” she murmured to the snipers. “On my mark. We take them together.”

There was a pause on the comms, followed by quiet acknowledgments from the snipers.

“Three… two… one… mark.”

Y/N fired simultaneously with the snipers stationed across the building. Her silenced shots punctuated the air as the figures behind the glass dropped in sync, their bodies hitting the floor soundlessly. The timing was flawless—no alarms, no panicked shouts.

“Clear,” she reported, resuming her glide downward.

“Three on the tenth floor,” the sniper advised.

“I see them,” she confirmed. Adjusting her position, she fired again with precision, her gloved hands steady. These targets were more spread out, but her silencer and sharp aim ensured they never knew what hit them.

By the time Y/N reached the designated floor, her teammates were already in position inside. One of them used a tactical glass-breaking tool to create an opening—a compact device designed to shatter glass with controlled force.

The sharp hiss of pressure and the cracking sound of glass breaking told her it was time. “Alpha Three, you’re clear,” her teammate signaled.

With a firm grip on the rope, Y/N swung herself inward, using the momentum to land softly inside the room. Her rifle was raised immediately, scanning the surroundings.

“Let’s move,” she ordered, her tone clipped and commanding. The team fell into formation, sweeping the next room with silent precision. ----------

The team moved swiftly through the first room, shots ringing out with practiced precision. Each movement was calculated—one target down, then another, each takedown happening in rapid succession. There was no time to waste.

Y/N and her team cleared the space, checking corners and eliminating threats as they went. Her focus was unbroken, the mission at hand consuming every ounce of her attention.

One of her teammates, a seasoned operative, gestured to the hostages huddled in the corner. “Move them out,” he instructed.

Another member of the team guided the hostages to the fire exit, his pace quick but measured. He ensured they stayed low, ducking behind furniture and moving out of view of any potential threats.

With the hostages safely on their way, Y/N and her remaining teammate moved to the next door.

“We wait for Alpha Four,” Y/N murmured, her eyes locked on the hallway.

“Understood,” her teammate replied, his voice steady but taut with anticipation.

They crouched in place, every sense heightened. The seconds felt like minutes as they waited for the others to arrive.

When the confirmation came through their earpieces, Y/N nodded. “Let’s go.”

Together, they moved toward the door. Y/N placed her hand on the breach tool, signaling to her teammate to prepare for entry. The device was positioned, ready to take down the door with minimal noise.

She took one last breath, steeling herself for the next phase. The countdown to breach was about to begin. ---------

As Y/N reached for the breach tool, the door to the next room shuddered under the pressure of a sudden, violent blast. The force hit her with unexpected power, sending her flying backward, crashing into the wall. For a moment, everything blurred—her body rocked from the impact, her breath knocked out of her lungs.

The blast had come from within the room—an ambush. The terrorist inside had anticipated their entry, and the door wasn’t just locked. It was rigged.

Her team reacted instantly, diving for cover, weapons raised. Gunshots tore through the air, deafening in their intensity. Y/N barely registered the chaos as her teammate, seeing her vulnerable position, lunged forward. He grabbed her, pulling her by the shoulders and dragging her to safety behind a nearby stack of crates.

“Move, move!” he shouted as they hit the ground. Y/N’s ears were ringing, her vision still fuzzy from the blast.

But they couldn’t afford to rest. The package—the critical asset they’d come for—was still inside with the terrorists. Y/N shook off the disorientation, forcing herself to her feet, gun in hand.

“We can’t let them escape with it,” she said, voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through her veins.

Her team nodded, their focus sharp. The mission hadn’t changed. They would break in, neutralize the threat, and secure the package. No matter the cost.

Shaking off the lingering disorientation, Y/N pushed herself up and sprinted down the hallway. The terrorists had moved fast, carrying sensitive intel—information that couldn’t fall into the wrong hands. Her helmet was long gone, knocked off during the blast, and she’d removed her balaclava to breathe more freely, the cool air filling her lungs.

Ahead, she spotted one of the terrorists. Without hesitation, she launched herself at him, her legs wrapping around his waist just below his ribs. In one fluid motion, she twisted, using her momentum to drag him down. Her arms circled his neck, tightening into a vice-like grip as she forced him into submission, cutting off his air supply.

He struggled, but it was too late—Y/N was already in control. His attempts to fight were futile as she held him firm, waiting for the rest of her team to catch up and secure the situation.

She charged forward, her body tense with adrenaline, as bullets suddenly ricocheted off the walls behind her. She barely registered the sharp pain in her shoulder, a bullet grazing her as she sprinted toward the fire exit. No time to stop, no time to think about the wound.

"Alpha Three, need backup, gunmen on my tail. I’m moving downstairs!!" she radioed, her breath ragged as she darted down the hallway, dodging the shots.

She had the package now, but the danger wasn’t over. With one hand clutching the precious intel, the other wrapped around a handgun, her knives still tucked securely at her side. The snipers were watching the glass, waiting for her signal.

"Alpha Three, abort! We’ve spotted a gunman on your floor," came the urgent call from the sniper. Too late.

The blow came suddenly—her face met the force of a backhanded slap, throwing her off balance and sending her crashing backward. Her head snapped against the floor as the terrorist lunged for his weapon, intent on shooting her and taking the package.

Reacting on instinct, she threw one of her knives, striking his palm and forcing the gun from his grasp. In a blur, she kicked it further out of reach, but the terrorist was quick. He pulled out his own knife, and the fight became a brutal, fast-paced melee.

The two exchanged strikes, the blade swiping past her face as she deftly evaded. His next move was swift—a stab aimed directly at her face. She blocked his arm with everything she had, forcing the blade away, and used her strength to push back.

With the force of the move, he stumbled, losing his footing. She seized the opportunity, maneuvering him to the ground beneath her. She quickly pulled out her own knife, aiming for a decisive strike—but he wasn’t finished yet. He pushed against her with all his strength, trying to keep her at bay.

In a savage moment of desperation, she sank her teeth into his arm, catching him off guard. He screamed in pain, his body jerking in response. But she didn’t stop. She pressed the knife deeper into his chest, her grip tightening as she continued to bite down, her teeth locking on his flesh. His eyes widened in shock and terror, but it was too late. With a final push, the blade buried itself in his chest, immobilizing him in fear and agony.

"Alpha Three, all clear. Package secure. Target down," she said, her voice strained, the metallic taste of blood lingering in her mouth.

The target had passed out from the pain—he wasn’t dead, though the knife had found a critical spot in his chest. The wound was deep, agonizing, but not fatal.

"Alpha Two, clear. Floor's secure. Charlie One and Two, you better fill me in on what you saw later," her teammate radioed, nodding toward the snipers.

There was a brief pause before the snipers spoke. "That was… well, quite savage, Inspector," they said, their tone a mix of admiration and surprise, trying to lighten the mood. They’d just watched her take matters into her own hands, witnessing the raw brutality of her actions up close.

----------

After the operation, she was rushed for medical attention. The bullet wound on her shoulder wasn’t just a scrape; it was deeper and more severe than she had initially thought. Blood oozed steadily down her arm, soaking the sleeve of her uniform, while the sharp, relentless pain made every movement unbearable. Her face, where she had taken a hard hit, was swollen and already blossoming into ugly shades of purplish-yellow, the throbbing ache a constant reminder of the brutality she’d endured. She had pushed herself to the limit, and her body was now making her pay for it.

Meanwhile, the unit worked quickly to secure all footage from the building’s CCTV. Keeping the operation under wraps before the media caught wind of it was critical sending it to MI5 afterwards. However, there was no escaping the evidence of her altercation—particularly the moment she’d bitten down on the terrorist’s arm to drive the knife deeper into his chest. One of her teammates, with a mischievous streak, managed to pull a clip from the drone footage and building cameras, which vividly captured her throwing the man down, the brutal bite, and the finishing stab. Within thirty minutes, the clip had made its way into the team’s group chat, where it had already earned the title of the "Savage Knife Fight."

The memes came pouring in. Someone photoshopped her face onto a snapping alligator turtle mid-bite with the caption: When the ‘snap’ in Snapping Alligator Turtle isn’t just a nickname. Another showed her lunging at a cartoon terrorist with oversized reptilian jaws, complete with a knife clutched in her teeth. By the time she’d finished getting patched up, the entire office had unofficially reaffirmed her title as the “Snapping Alligator Turtle” of the unit—a nickname she’d earned long ago thanks to the infamous joke patch on her uniform sleeve.

The patch itself was an inside joke from her team—a snarling cartoon depiction of a snapping alligator turtle, emblazoned with the words, “Fast? Not when you’re dead.” The twist? It was supposed to reference to her as a tortoise, not a turtle, as she was affectionately nicknamed the “Snapping Alligator Tortoise.” Her team loved pointing out that no such tortoise exists, making the name both a playful jab and a nod to her relentless tenacity in the field. After the knife fight? That patch felt less like a joke and more like a badge of truth, cementing her reputation in the most savage way possible.

The Chief smirked when he saw the latest round of memes circulating. “Looks like you’ve lived up to your patch again, Inspector,” he teased, leaning against the doorframe of the medical bay.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a wry smile. “My other arm couldn’t push him down, so I had to do what I had to do,” she replied, her tone dry as ever.

The banter and jokes didn’t bother her—not really. If anything, they were a reminder that she’d done her job, even if she had to bite her way to the finish line.

----------

Earlier, the medic had to cut through the sleeve of her uniform to tend to the wound on her shoulder. Now, her dominant arm was heavily bandaged and barely functional, leaving her to manage everything with her non-dominant hand. It made simple tasks—like typing or clicking a mouse—frustratingly slow and clumsy.

To make matters worse, the painkillers she’d been given contained something that left her drowsy and sluggish, further slowing her progress. Every few minutes, she caught herself blinking too long, the haze of exhaustion tugging at her focus.

Her unit had urged her to go home and rest for the day. “You’ve done more than enough,” one of them had said, practically pleading. But she’d waved them off, stubborn as ever. “I’d rather finish the paperwork now,” she’d replied flatly. “No point in letting it pile up for tomorrow.”

So there she sat, struggling through the reports with one arm out of commission and her body fighting to shut down. Her movements were slow but deliberate, her determination unwavering. If nothing else, she refused to let a stack of unfinished paperwork get the better of her after the day she’d had.

The office phone rang, cutting through the quiet murmur of keyboards and low conversations. Her colleague in the next cubicle picked it up, his expression shifting from casual to mildly alarmed. He glanced over at her, hesitant.

"Uhhh… Commander Price is asking for you," he said, dragging out the words like he was delivering bad news.

Her fingers froze above the keyboard, and she immediately tensed at the name. For a moment, her tired brain tried to pretend she hadn’t heard him. With a sigh that sounded more like a groan, she finally looked up.

She was in no mood for this—not with her dominant arm out of commission, her painkillers making her feel like she was one wrong blink away from passing out, and her shredded sleeve making her look like the Hulk mid-transformation.

With a deadpan, drowsy expression, she replied, "Tell him I’m busy. Really sorry." Her tone suggested she was anything but. Without waiting for a reaction, she turned back to her painfully slow typing.

Her colleague hesitated, but then dutifully repeated her words into the receiver. A sharp click sounded as the line disconnected. He stared at the phone for a moment, then placed it gingerly back in its cradle, casting her a sidelong glance.

"You know he’s not gonna buy that, right?"

"Not my problem," she mumbled, squinting at the screen. "He can wait like everyone else."

About 10 to 15 minutes later, her colleague, now holding a freshly filled mug from the water cooler, burst into the office at full speed.

"Y/N! Commander Price is in the hallway! He’s heading this way!" he blurted, nearly spilling his drink in the process.

She froze mid-keystroke, her eyes widening in disbelief. "You’re joking," she muttered, though the look on his face confirmed he was very much not.

Her drowsiness evaporated instantly, replaced by a sudden, panicked burst of energy. She shot up from her chair, looking around like a trapped animal. Hide! Where to hide?!

Her first instinct was the file closet, but one glance at her injured arm told her there was no way she could wedge herself in there. Desperate, she looked at the desks, considered crawling under one, but quickly dismissed it as undignified.

"Think, think, think!" she hissed, spinning in a small circle like a malfunctioning robot.

Finally, her eyes landed on the fire exit. Without a second thought, she bolted for it, ignoring the confused looks from her colleagues. She flung the door open and dashed down the stairwell, taking two steps at a time despite her bandaged arm screaming in protest.

By the time she reached the first floor, she was breathless but didn’t stop. She ran straight through the lobby, past a bewildered colleague who barely had time to call out, “Everything alright, Y/N?”

“Yep! Totally fine!” she replied, not breaking her stride.

And then she was out the door, vanishing into the afternoon like a fugitive fleeing a crime scene.

----------

After bolting down the fire exit like her life depended on it, she burst into the parking lot, deciding to make a break for the mess hall building. Maybe she could catch her breath and grab a drink before Price found her again.

Unbeknownst to her, Commander Price was already in the mess hall. Spotting her sprinting toward the door, he leaned casually against the frame, waiting like a predator lying in ambush. As soon as she was close enough, he straightened up, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“Boo,” he said, his voice low but unmistakably teasing.

She froze mid-step, her breath catching as her eyes snapped wide open in disbelief. “No… NO.”

Without a second thought, she turned on her heel and bolted back the way she came. “Not today, Price! Not with my luck!”

Her panicked retreat was as chaotic as it was ill-planned. In her frenzy, she failed to notice the police van reversing directly into her path. By the time the warning beep registered, it was far too late. She collided with the front of the van, the impact sending her sprawling across the hood.

“FUCK!” she screamed, rolling with dramatic flair across the windshield before tumbling off the side and landing with a graceless thud on the pavement.

The van screeched to a halt, and the driver jumped out, his face pale. “Inspector! Are you—oh my gosh!! are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” she snapped, though the way she cradled her now definitely broken arm told a different story. Groaning, she flopped back onto the pavement, glaring up at the sky. “Just… give me a minute to die in peace.”

By then, the entire parking lot was in an uproar. Unit members spilled out of the building, drawn by the loud thwack of human-meets-vehicle. Captain Price, who had witnessed the entire debacle from the mess hall entrance, was already sprinting toward her, his expression shifting from amusement to genuine worry.

Kneeling beside her, Price’s gaze flicked from her arm to her face, his tone softer but still laced with teasing concern. “Bloody hell, darling. Are you trying to give me a heart attack? First running like a lunatic, and now this?”

She glared at him through the haze of pain, her voice sharp despite her discomfort. “Don’t darling me, Price. If it isn’t obvious, I didn’t want to face you!”

His lips quirked into that infuriating smirk she’d come to dread. “So, you admit you were running from me?”

Her eyes narrowed further, venom practically dripping from her gaze. “I blame you! If you hadn’t ambushed me, I wouldn’t have been running!”

Price raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered. “Would it help if I carried your paperwork to the hospital?”

She let out a frustrated groan and shot him a rude hand gesture with her good arm as the non-emergency ambulance pulled up. The medics began loading her onto the stretcher, her scowl deepening with every second.

“Gosh, I hate you,” she muttered, closing her eyes as if willing herself to disappear. “This is all your fault.” her scowl growing darker with every jostle.

The medics prepared to shut the ambulance doors when one of them turned to Price. “Commander, do you want to ride along? She might need some support.”

Her eyes snapped open, fire practically shooting from her gaze. “NO! I said, keep that man away from me!”

Price, now thoroughly entertained, leaned closer with a grin. “See you at the hospital, love.”

The doors shut, muffling the beginning of what sounded like a creative string of curses.

The parking lot fell into stunned silence before one officer snorted. “Honestly? That might’ve been the best entertainment we’ve had all year.”

Another officer grinned. “Oi, Captain! You better follow her! She’s gonna need someone to carry all that pride back!”

Encouraged by the cheers and laughter from the unit, Price gave a mock bow, climbed into his car, and started the engine.

By the time she spotted his 4x4 in the ambulance’s window, her angry groan could probably be heard in the next postcode. “I swear, if that man follows me into the hospital, I’m filing two injury reports—one for my arm and one for my sanity!”

A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter despite it being a bit on the longer side. I tried to get into all the messy, chaotic details. 😅 And just a heads up, it’s going to be a little harder for her to run away from Captain Price now, especially considering she’s injured. But we all know she’ll try, anyway. 😂 Thanks for reading, and as always, feel free to drop your thoughts below!

Edit: On to the next chapter!!-------->

[grungiiuvu]

Redacted factor notes, i spent the last 6 hours gathering! May have missed some things

Redacted factor gets first triggered by the bath scene in chaoter 6

Decreases when: 

MQ says he doesng care about FX’s words, chapter 8 (decreases less than the protagonist satisfaction). 

Chapter 15: increases and decreases simultaneously (see chapter 15 notes in increase)

MQ calling FX useless, chapter 15

MQ says he doesn’t need romance cause he has his sect siblings, chapter 18

MQ mentions SQX, chapter 27

MQ explains the ribbon Deal to FX, chapter 29

Increases when: 

MQ wears a dress. 

FX reveals that MQ went “missing” (bandits), chapter 11. 

MQ insults FX, again, chapter 11 (also edits Feng Xin’s wiki). 

MQ shows affection to his horse, chapter 13. 

Chapter 14: FX sees MQ in a dress, hua cheng calls FX MQ’s dog, and MQ insults FX

MQ and FX “finally agree on something” , chapter 14. 

Chapter 15: MQ or rather, FX’s reaction to MQ, gives the system whiplash, saying he doesnt see FX as an equal causes the redacted role to BOTH increase and decrease at the same time, creating conflicting info and is eventually cancelled out by the system. 

MQ correcting FX’s stance, chapter 15

FX sees MQ with flowers in his hair, chapter 16

In chapter 17 but im not fully sure what triggered it. MQ refered to FX as shixiong, but also insulted him. Could be either one, or both.

Big increases when MQ is observing (ogling) FX when he’s training. Happens 3 times over, at least. Chapter 18

Two MASSIVE increases when MQ calls FX handsome (good job MQ), chapter 18.

Increases twice in chapter 20, when MQ asks Feng Xin to take a conversation seriously (did feng xin think much qing was gonna confess maybe..?) 

Big increase when MQ tells FX they’re still friends, chapter 20 (ANOTHER EDIT TO THE WIKI! But this time, Qing’er’s wiki is updated too!)

Small increases when MQ stays close to, and walks with FX, chapter 21

they hold hands! (Dear god, they hold hands), chapter 21

when fx (and pei ming) come to save Mq and Xl, chapter 22

When Mq tells Fx he can do better he just needs to try harder, chapter 22

Increases when Mq teases fx, and mq punches him, chapter 23

Multiple increases when Fx calls mq his prize, chapter 24

Mu qing smiles, chapter 25 (twice)

Mq calls Fx his dog, chapter 25

Mq calls himself an angel. Chapter 25

Mq falls asleep on fx, chapter 25 (the factor upgrades again!)

FX calls MQ a wildcat, and MQ hits FX, chapter 26 

THE ENTIRE CLOSET SCENE WITH FX’S “DAGGER”, chapter 27

MQ being bossy, Chapter 29

Updates to the factor:

Chapter 14! A side quest with a redacted title shows up! Accompanies XL’s wife plot quest. dont think that all the instances of redacted words are about the same words. its mq’s own wife plot quest?. Also, in chapter 14 the factor is upgraded, implying levels to this factor.

With chapter 15, we unlock P points, confirmed to mean Pretty Points (anqelbean being the first one to guess that correctly) They advance the redacted factor, and narrative role more than b points, so the redacted factor has some sort of beauty aspect to it. The narrative role for Mq’s beauty was, as we know, to spark insecurity in XL, but that’s likely changed 

Chapter 18! The conditions to the factor get edited, after a discussion about nicknames, and MQ says he’s hard to impress.

Chapter 21. We can probably say that its not Romantic Rival, due to how the system talks about it

Chapter 22. The Redacted side quest reappears, when MQ (and xie lian) get captured again! Im pretty convinced that it stands for Be wife Plotted or something to that effect. the redacted factor gets edited when MQ says he doesnt want to wait around to be rescued. 

Chapter 23! Big update. Quoting the system

“Achievement, ‘[REDACTED]’, has been unlocked. Plus 50 B-points! [REDACTED] Trope Convention unlocked! [REDACTED] Factor increased by 30 B-points. Excellent work, Host!! We’ll make a [REDACTED] out of you yet! q(≧▽≦q)””

A redacted achievement, a trope convention, and “we’ll make a X out of you”. (The system singing “I’ll make a man out of you” but its about the redacted factor

So many questions. And confirms that there are multiple redacted words, probably.

You also say that the whole “punching in the gut, and going “good luck, i hope you fail” is the most Redacted thing MQ has done.

Chapter 26 and 27

The factor leveld up to level 3! MQ earns two [Redacted] badges.

“Some good Redacted”

And ANOTHER Redacted badge (convinced this one is related to sexual interest because dear god the closest scene)

One of the three redacted badges levels up

Cryptic ace, chapter 6: “something like hotness”

AroVibes, chapter 11: “Plot? Drama? God potential? Angst? Sexiness?”

ButterflyDreaming, chapter 11: “FQ affection points”

otaku_lady89, chapter 11: “SECRET MASOCHISM”

reinvanteal, chapter 11: “Sexiness”

anqelbean, chapter 14, and chapter 15: “degradation kink”

oxytocarb, chapter 15: “related to how attracted feng xin is to mu qing”

hailpyre, chapter 17: “wow FX do you have a degradation ki—//bonked”

Imraekio, chapter 18: “romantic points”

anqelbean, chapter 18: “Love Interest Factor”

ButterflyDreaming, chapter 18: “Love Interest points? Or Romance Protagonist points?”

oxytocarb, chapter 18: “how attracted they are to each other?? romance sub-plot progression or smth”

thetowerofbabel, and ButterflyDreaming chapter 23: “tsundere”

SillyRinnie, chapter 23: “"wife" or "protagonist"”

Writesforfun (that’s me :3), chapter 23: Rivals to Lovers

Pink_Muffins, chapter 24: “potential love interest” “prime love interest”

OOC out of Mind (guest), chapter 24: romantic appeal

septemberme, chapter 24: "Oops accidentally turned Feng Xin on" points

Kresnik, chapter 24: waifu factor

Pink_Muffins, chapter 27: “‘eye candy’ or ‘fanservice’”

l1ls4y0, on Tumblr: “mating factor”

I..... idek what to say to this. Holy shit, bro. That's a lot of hours you've spent reading my semi-crack fic.

Actually, i might just pin this. This is incredible. Holy shit dude, I don't even have a joke for this. This is a LOT of shit you found oml

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 44

chapter 67:

1. jfc remus (how is he that strong)

2. god, can’t our side have one fucking win? all these people captured. including my remus

3. “"She started the war for me, and she'll end it for me, too."” GOD i love lesbians

4. NO NO NOOOO NO NO NOOOOOO NOOOOO NOOOO MARLENE STOP NOOOOO!!! SHE WANTS TO PROPOSE TO DORCAS AFTER THE WAR!!!! SHES GONNA DIE I CANT HANDLE THIS

5. 😦

6. marlene?? i-

7. i’m still in shock

8. okay i have my bearings. this is why the post is two days after the last one lol. anyways, i’m actually pissed that she didn’t get to die a big dramatic or memorable death. she didn’t do anything. it was just a landmine. and she’s dead. and i get it, i really do. war isn’t always big heroic deaths. it’s also this. where one moment, you’re planning to propose to your partner and laughing with your freind, and half a second later, you’re blown to bits. but genuinely, her death fucked me up. i knew it was coming, but not like this. holy shit, not like this

anyways, the first thing i did after i read that bit was text my freind. and first thing they did was call me. i sent in bold “IM CRYING” and i get back “why” “MARLENE” bro immediate call. not well. not well at all

9. i continued and read the rest of her death. and her last words being dorcas will forever fuck me up

10. PANDORA????? PANDORA????

12. anyways all i did was call back the freind and say “PANDORA” and that bitch laughed at me. (love them to death) told them to go suck a lemon (they’d never heard that phrase before) and then they made me hang up to finish reading

my poor roommate has heard me call this freind twice (it’s ten o’clock at night)

13. “Horace would need more than just two hands, many more, to count the amount of people who would have gladly put their guns down for Pandora alone.” yeah, me for one

14. FLEAMONT NOOOOO

15. james will be devestated beyond belief

16. remus? huh??? he was shot in the head. but. he had a pov. i’m not sure now

17. …dorcas? i was so sure she had a pov

no wait she has a pocket. just checked

18. regulus???

19. um actually albus can fucking keel over. wont save all those other people in the lineup, then hears his brothers name and is willing to sacrifice the war for him. i get it, but alberforth knew this would happen to him

20. huh, damn. and alberforth still gets shot

21. 🚨🚨🚨pandora is safe. holy shit pandora is safe. i repeat pandora is safe 🚨🚨🚨

22. and fleamont and suddenly that all made sense

23. “”You forgot to count your bullets."” do i hate snape? yeah. but that’s fucking iconic

24. “Riddle lost the moment those doors burst open and two of Euphemia's someday son-in-laws moved into the room with Dorcas Meadowes one step ahead of them.” lmao freaking iconic. more historically important than trump getting shot

25. effie stopping to mourn barty gave me chills

26. NO FLEAMONT!!!! i’m getting fucking whiplash from this

27. effie having such a short pov but still so much emotion and character is shown in her love for fleamont

28. yall remus, regulus, and dorcas are fucking insane.

and i’m so here for it

29. “For all those years Sirius was taken away from him, Regulus breaks Riddle's fingers. Ten years, ten fingers.

For what Riddle took from James, Regulus takes his eyes. This is a difficult task. Regulus has never removed someone's eyes before. It's messy, and it takes the combined efforts of Remus and Dorcas to keep Riddle from flopping right out of his chair.”

mom pick me up i’m scared

30. “There are no good people in war, and now Dorcas thinks there are no good people out of it—certainly not her, because she would gladly go back into it just to have Marlene again.”

going feral over this actually. i’m unwell. i’m so freaking feral over this omg

31. reading authors notes and finding out that monty was author’s prim is actually making me go fucking insane

32. 😀 hi i’m unwell

(anyways side note, uhhh chapter was fucking insane but also like if y’all are reading this fic or this post, just know that there is no anger or resentment towards the author. he wrote this for himself and shared it with us. it’s a masterpiece and we RESPECT people. so yeah, this is the story he wanted to tell, so he wrote it for himself. just ya know, so yall remember)

[also don’t sell fics 😊 i will hunt you down]