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ugokuna · 3 days ago

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It Was Always You

Pairing: Sukuna Ryomen x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was just one accidental, drunken kiss after a party, something you should've forgotten in a couple of days. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, that you’ve moved on. That Sukuna had as well. You doubted he remembered anything; especially with every new girl he kissed and every party he was at. Sure, there were occasional glimpses and shared moments together, but those meant nothing. It couldn’t mean anything.

Tags: mutual pining, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, misunderstandings, missing pov, playboy(?)/fratboy/athlete sukuna, college!jjk au, reader’s major is unspecified, inaccurate and glorified depictions of college/college parties (so many parties to move the plot foward) and frats, peer pressure, cliche tropes, lots of time jumps, they were roommates (but not in the way you think), situationship (also not in the way you think), reader is introverted but NOT shy

A/N: English is not my first language. It also has been a minute since I've written anything, so forgive me if this is not the best, think of it like a warm up. I just had to post this one, it has been sitting in my drafts for toooooo long. Inspired by a fanfic I read about Ushijima/Oikawa by jaaesthetixx called Two Years too long on ao3 (definitely check it out!) . Proof read but I'm only human. The picture below is not my own, copyrights to the original artist!!

Word Count: 13.6K (it's a long one)

The auditorium is loud with bustling voices all being ushered by tired returnee students through the double doors. The atmosphere is filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, you stand there quiet as the crowd walks around you. You, a little out of place, about to begin the best four years of your life as everyone has been telling you.

As you situate yourself into your seat, you hear a group of boys in front of you rough housing with each other as they make their way a row down from you. One man from the group catches your attention; in stark contrast there sits Sukuna Ryomen, a Chemistry major with a growing reputation with every passing second. With the way he carried himself, smiling and laughing at everyone, he attracted crowds. Even during the campus tour, everyone was flocking his way, each one vying for his attention, drawn by his enigmatic aura.

“Are you going to the party tonight?” A girl places a hand on his biceps.

Sukuna gives her a dashing smile. “Are you?” He leans into her touch.

She laughs. “Yes.”

A wink her way. “Then I am too. Looking forward to it.”

As the group watches her leave, another man puts Sukuna in an arm lock, nudging their knuckles into his head. “Quit it, will you?” It was Fushiguro Toji, a Kinesiology major. He was perhaps just as popular as Sukuna, constantly catching the eyes of women in a more subtle and quieter way.

“What about you?” The man is able to get out of Toji’s grasp, hair sticking all different ways.

“Um… what?” You try to play it off, as if you weren’t listening to the entire conversation while waiting for your friend.

“Ask for the girl’s name first,” Toji berates the man.

Sukuna rolls his eyes. ”I’m just trying to break the ice first.” He turned his full attention back to you.

It didn’t bother you how Sukuna’s attention seemed to be pulled every which way. It’s something you observed quite quickly from earlier interactions. Catching and keeping his attention for longer than a minute seemed to be impossible with him.

“So?”

“Sorry, what?”

He laughs. “Your name?”

You give it to him.

He tilts his head. “So then, Yn, what’s your major?”

Heat starts to rise within your body and you hate how you feel embarrassed. ”I don’t know. I’m undeclared right now.

“Totally understandable. Better than a Chem major right? Actually-” Before he can get the last words in, Toji practically turns him around in his seat to pay attention to the presentation that’s been going on for five minutes now. Not a second later, your dorm mate, Maki, makes her way back to the seat you saved from the bathroom. “Did I miss anything important?”

After the presentation, everyone’s celebrating now that the boring orientation that’s lasted all day has ended. You’re about to make way to your dorm when you feel a tap on your shoulder. “Hey,” you turn. It’s Sukuna. “I forgot to ask but do you wanna go to the party with everyone?”

“It’s gonna be a pool party!” Someone yells out from the crowd.

You hesitantly shake your head, “I don’t know, I can’t swim. Maybe-”

“You don’t even have to swim,” he reassures you. “Promise it’ll be so much fun. You’d meet so many new people.”

You almost want to laugh at that statement. It had come to no surprise that he had said it; everyone was practically crowd pushing him away from you with each passing second. All he can give you is an apologetic look before disappearing into the rush of people.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When you get to the party, the music is loud, the bass reverberating through your entire body. You look to your side and shrug to Maki, who’s giving you an arched brow, before you both walk in through the door. Hands are grabbing at both of you, trying to pull you every which way. You don’t even know how you got a cup in your hand. Maki is able to shove them all off and starts directing you towards the back yard. Discreetly putting your full cup on a random table, you’re stopped in your tracks as you spot Sukuna in the kitchen, shotgunning with Toji as, you noticed, a new group of people surrounding him cheer him on. All of them chanting his name.

The night air is crisp. It’s refreshing compared to the humid atmosphere in the house. The water in the pool is illuminating so bright in contrast to the low yellow lights of the house. Maki chugs her cup before asking, “Why are we here in the first place?”

All you can give her is a chuckle.

Sukuna spots you from inside the house, talking to one other person. You seemed so deep in the conversation. He sees a bunch of his newly acquainted friends approach you with a bottle and a shot glass. His feet are moving before he can even comprehend what’s happening, excusing everyone he bumps into and makes his way to you as he sees you struggling to get them off your ass.

From behind you, he says "Thanks, I needed that" as he reaches for the shot from his friend's hands, downs it, before making his way back into the house, the group following behind him. Thank you is stuck on the tip of your tongue as you watch him take a ping pong ball into his hand, the upperclassmen cheering him on beer pong. He barely catches your eyes for a second before he turns his attention back to the game.

Maki finally makes her way to your side, asking, “Who was that?”

You can barely utter a response to her as you watch him knuckle his friend’s head when they miss the shot. You had come to the conclusion then that you were worlds apart, especially with his charisma.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Sorry about this again,” Toji grunts as you both carry Sukuna up to his dorm, on the verge of passing out on your shoulders. He’s mumbling something incoherent but you both decide to ignore the man. He had caused enough trouble already, challenging the sophomore Mahito to another drinking contest.

“It’s no big deal. It’s the least I can do after he helped me out of a situation,” you tell Toji.

“Huh,” he huffs out. “How ‘bout that.”

After taking a few stops and tumbles up the stairs, you make it to their shared dorm, one you’ve realized was only two floors above you. Toji gives you the access key as he rushes off to get the fallen objects scattered across the stairs and lobby.

You lean closer into him, quietly asking, “Can you walk?” Silence, then a hum. “Can you walk?”

You both make way to his bed before he can even give you a coherent response and start lowering him down. “Careful. You got it?” You’re the one struggling to lay him down slowly and not slam him head first into the bed.

“Oh, shit.” Tripping over each other’s feet, Sukuna slams onto the bed anyways, his arm around your shoulder dragging you down with him.

“Wait! Wait-” His lips are on yours before you know it. It’s soft, warm –probably from the alcohol– and as light as a feather. It’s almost shy, all that boldness from the morning and at the party gone. You pull away abruptly, breathing heavily, fingers deftly touching your lips. A ghost of cigarette scent lingers behind in its wake.

You’re not sure if you heard a sorry from him as you’re rushing out of the room, bumping into a flabbergasted Toji in the hallway, spitting out the quickest excuse possible. You, who runs away, ears tinted red because he stole your first kiss.

Sukuna, who is passed out drunk when Toji makes his way back, utterly confused, asking where you were going and him saying how he'd probably fucked up.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It came to no surprise that you both gravitated towards different groups on campus, enveloped into two different hemispheres. You often saw him rushing to class with Toji following shortly behind, scolding him. Some days you see him with a different group on each different day of the week; always engrossed in whatever they were talking about. You could never seem to get away from him, he was the talk of the campus between all your classmates.

He often saw you with Maki. Always just the two of you, always routine, always disciplined. Something he clearly lacked, as Toji stated to him one night when they were procrastinating on studying for a test the next day. You seemed too far from him to ever close the gap; you were involved with different organizations and people completely opposite of him.

Only ever a glimpse whenever the other person wasn’t looking. Never crossing paths, staying out of each other’s bubbles.

You see him join a fraternity a quarter into freshman year with Toji; easily sporting that black and red fraternity jacket with pride at a party. You had come to the first rugby game of the season to support Maki’s new boyfriend Yuta, who was on the team, where you happened to see Sukuna on the rugby field as well; sporting new pink hair.

Again, drawing a big crowd as they lift him up in the air after scoring the winning point for the first game of the season. Him, displaying that toothy grin as his face. It lifestyle seemed to suit him well.

As everyone scrambles to get to their cars to go to the after-party to celebrate, you quickly make your way to the stadium bathroom. You’re nearly skipping from how full your bladder is and when you turn the corner-

There’s no mistaking that freshly dyed pink hair, immediately recognizing it as Sukuna Ryomen. Here he was, kissing a girl with his jacket on in the back of the stadium stairs. You freeze. You don’t know why, this was normal. You feel guilty for catching him in such an intimate moment; guilting for something else–perhaps for getting hopeful.

He didn’t owe you anything, you had to wrap that around your head. Given how much you’ve learned about him in such a short amount of time, this was a given. This was who he was, there was no denying that by anyone.

Running back to Maki and Yuta, who’s shooting you confused looks, all you can do is push them into the car and tell them to hurry home to go pee. When they question you, all you can muster is that the bathrooms were locked. You wonder if he even remembered that night. You want that memory out of your head.

They drop you off after much persuasion that you’d meet up with them later at the party for the celebration.

When Yuta enters the frat house with Maki, Sukuna watches from a distance as the duo walks in before making his way to the couple with a practiced smile while he scans behind them. “Where’s Yn?”

“She’s coming later,” Yuta tells him, grabbing the offered drink from Sukuna and leaves with Maki.

The entire night he has his eyes glued to the door.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Landing yourself a job at the school library meant, though it was not often, seeing Sukuna there. Sometimes you see him studying, sometimes you see him tutoring someone, sometimes you see him playing Tetris on his computer as he tunes out an online class that seems very important.

There seems to be a backlog of books needing reshelving so you’ve been tasked with shelving books for the remainder of the shift. It really is mundane work but you believe it’s better than Maki’s physical job of carrying heavy loads. You hear a whisper then a squeal as you turn to the next aisle.

“We have to be quiet.” You knew that voice. You peek through the bookshelf, not knowing why since you know it belongs to Sukuna, his back to you.

“Or else what?” She leans into his touch as she laughs.

“Don’t wanna get caught do we? Gotta respect the rules here.”

And then he’s going in for the kiss, starting at the neck before making his way to the girl’s lips, who reciprocates with equal passion. With an attempt to give them some privacy, you accidentally knock down some books. And when you look back up, your eyes catch hers and she screams.

Before Sukuna can even turn around to see all the commotion, you’re gone. He looks back at the girl. “What is it?”

She scowls. “Some girl was snooping in on us. What a weirdo.”

Sukuna looks back for one last measure, craning his neck to see, catching anything. Nothing. And then he’s getting pulled back in.

You slam the books down and rush to get your things, stuffing your charger and papers into your bags in a hurry. “Sorry,” you spill out. “I wasn’t able to finish shelving these last books. I just realized I have a meeting to catch!”

The coworkers can barely get a response out before you’re out the doors. Why did you always have such bad timing?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It wasn’t until sophomore year that you started to find your footing here at the college. You honestly have Toge and Panda to thank for that. If you hadn’t met them, you probably wouldn’t have chosen the major you did. Toge Inumaki, though the yapper he was, really made you love all the communications class you took together. You didn’t know what to expect from Panda. Definitely not barely passing a mathematics class together, that’s for sure.

Sukuna’s head turns when he hears your voice. “At least the teacher likes me more,” you tell Panda who taunts you by sticking his tongue out. It seemed like your group was heading out downtown.

“Yea, yea sure.”

He watches you sigh in mock frustration, but not without catching the teasing smile that’s growing on your face. “Don’t come crying to me if I pass the class and you don’t.”

Sukuna can’t help the scoff that comes out of his mouth before he continues on his homework.

“What’s so funny?” Toji asks.

The pink haired man can only shake his head, hand coming up to cover the grin. “Nothing, nothing.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The crowd erupts into a complete frenzy as Sukuna scores, yet again, the winning goal. As you and the group make your way down the stands to celebrate with Yuta, embracing him in an all encompassing hug, you aren’t sure if you had caught Sukuna’s eyes. Everything was happening too fast as the crowd swallowed him up.

“Thanks man, ‘ppreciate it,” he says for the nth time tonight after another person congratulates him. He touches his cup to the man before taking a sip when he hears your laugh. He turns towards the crowd, scanning. He hadn’t seen you come in and he missed the change to talk to you at the end of his game.

He can’t seem to get a good view of you until he hears your laughter die down abruptly, followed by hesitant no’s. His body is moving even before he can understand anything, barely tuning in to everyone who’s slapping him on the back for a job well done today.

And then he finally sees you. Cornered by one of his frat mates, Mahito, shoving a shot glass into your hand, clinking it with his before tilting it towards your mouth.

One, two strides and he intercepts. Grabbing the shot just as it barely touches your lips and downs it in one fluid motion. He sets it down harshly, making you jump. There’s a silence between the two men as you watch from behind Sukuna’s shoulders before Mahito slowly raises his hand in defeat, and leaves without much protest.

“Um, thank you,” you’re finally able to muster out, raising a finger to tap his shoulder.

He turns around before you can ever make contact. “You should really-”

“I was looking for water,” you interrupted him. “Some water…” you repeat again.

He sighs, reaching behind you and opens the fridge, tossing you two cold water bottles and leaves it at that to chase down Mahito.

When the party starts to wind down, Sukuna takes the chance to move to the balcony on the second floor to smoke. He digs out a crumpled cigarette, it would have to do. As he lights the butt up, he looks up to the sound of footsteps. Taking a whiff, holding it in before blowing it out, he gives you a nod of acknowledgement. He tries to keep a neutral face but can’t help but have his brow twitch at you approaching him, almost tentatively. He leans back against the rail.

“What’re you doing up here?”

“Sorry, is this off limits?” And yet here you were, still walking towards him. You settle on one side of the balcony.

He shrugs and goes for another before blowing it out carelessly towards you. Sukuna doesn’t miss the way your lips purse at his actions.

“Yuta said I could come up here.”

“Yuta?” He says in disbelief. “That scrawny emo kid?”

You shoot him a look. “Hey!”

Sukuna huffs at the sweet noise you made, turning his head and blowing out the smoke. “Just the truth, he’s a newb.”

He doesn’t miss the way you roll your eyes. “So are you. Didn’t you and Toji both start at the same time?”

Sukuna lets his cigarette drop to the floor as he leans in closer to you. “You see me on the field today?

“I did.” It’s almost bashful.

He dares to lean a bit closer. “And what did you think? Did I look like a newbie out there?”

Everything is forgotten when Sukuna sees you reciprocating his actions. “I think-”

“Sukuna!” Toji calls out for him as he makes his way to the balcony, clearly out of breath. “Oh! I didn’t realize you were busy. Hey Yn.”

You give him a small smile and wave.

Toji’s already tugging Sukuna along by the sleeve of his jacket. “Come on, I made a bet saying you could finish the funnel faster than Mahito. Betted Gojo winning against Geto and he fucking lost. Can’t let me down now.” And he’s dragged away before he can even say anything, taking one last look at you before heading downstairs to the backyard.

And when he’s done, belly full of beer and deal won, he rushes back up to the balcony knowing very well you wouldn’t be there but being disappointed anyways.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Wrapping up sophomore year is hectic and stressful. Sukuna is ever busy trying to gear himself to being vice president of his fraternity for the upcoming school year. Drawing in tabling, hosting events, and running booths that you often run by when going to class. He always looked so into it, voice booming above all others. Convincing old friends and new to vote for him, convincing fresh boys to rush his fraternity over others.

When he’s warming up for rugby practice, he sees you and Toji walking side by side. Watch as the both of you both laugh at something before parting ways. He sees you biting your lip in the cafe as you angrily tap away at your laptop, the wrinkles on your forehead more prominent than ever.

Thanking his tutor for the day, Sukuna starts to pack up his things as he’s running late to his fraternity meeting. He’s about to text one of the members before he catches a glimpse of you from the corner of his eye.

“Here you go.”

You shriek a bit before covering your mouth. After looking around, hoping you didn’t disrupt anyone, you looked up at the man standing behind you. “You scared me!” you whisper-yell at him while grabbing the book from his grasp you had trouble reaching.

“You’re welcome,” his voice hinting at something, brow raised. “Don’t they have those long ladders?”

Turning to finally face him, you hug the book to your chest. “Yes, they do, but I thought I didn’t need it.”

He only hums before leaning in closer. “Oh, yea?” He picks off invisible lint off your shoulder before bracing his arm next to it. “What’re doing in the library?”

“I work here,” you state matter of factly.

“That so…” his voice wanders off. Interesting.

“Yes,” you reply, ducking under his arm. He was too close, his proximity taking you back to that night freshman year. You didn’t need that memory resurfacing after all this time. Both of you were about to be juniors in college, it was embarrassing how you just couldn’t let it go. “I’d like to stay and chat, but I have a lot of things to do right now.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Junior year is beginning to look good. You’ve just applied for an internship and have signed a lease for an apartment. The school year starts off with great news of Sukuna as well: becoming the vice president of his fraternity and captain of the rugby team. You can't help but smile when you read it in the school’s newspaper. You’re happy for him.

It's no surprise that with the new achievement and the start of the semester, it’s a big party; the fraternity house is filled to the max. As you weaved through the crowd, hand in hand with Shoko, you couldn't help but have your eyes wander to a certain silhouette. It didn't matter anyways, you both weren't going to stay long anyway. You both have prior commitments the day after.

But nothing ever goes to plan as you find yourself staying past the time you guys agreed on. And it's not until you find her slumped against Gojo that you rush over to her. You try to drag her out of the house, men start approaching you, grabbing and pulling everywhere.

You can only offer her a smile when she mumbles something about Gojo and tell her you're taking her to the bathroom first before leaving. The line is long and everyone's giving you the stink eye and it makes you want to crawl into your own skin while Shoko is hanging onto your shoulder telling everyone to fuck off.

Toji comes to the rescue and tells you to go upstairs to the master room, no one should be in it. As you burst through the door, you stop.

Both are topless, hands skimming and touching everywhere. Sukuna’s on top in a heated make out session with a girl who screams and pushes the pink haired man away.

You quickly shield your eyes and apologize. "I- I’m sorry… I didn't mean to interrupt! Toji, he said no one would be up here and-" The girl shoves past you as she sends you a dirty remark, making you drop Shoko. You sigh out in frustration.

"It's okay," he reassures you quickly.

Your eyes notice the bruising marks on his chest and neck and you realize you're staring. You divert your gaze back to the ground as you decide to focus your attention back to putting Shoko on your shoulder.

You can't really see him that well in the dark lighting. What his face reads. What his eyes say. "Here, let me help." He approaches and you tense up in panic

"No! No," you say more calmly. You feel like crying for some reason. And you hate it. Stupid, you tell yourself. There was nothing to cry about, you've seen it before. Many times. It certainly wasn't going to be the last. "We’ll go somewhere else. Again, I-" you inhale. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, seriously.”

Sukuna calls out your name. “I know-” And then Shoko throws up on the floor. On Sukuna's feet.

And that's the last you see of him as you apologize profusely, tears brimming from ruining his carpet before you rush out to call a taxi.

Sukuna Ryomen, you really are a heartbreaker.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As Sukuna walks up to the desk, sliding the two books he checked out a week ago, he asks where you are. He hadn’t seen you working in the library for the past few weeks.

The staff scans his book. "Oh, you mean Yn? Her internship schedule didn’t work out with this job, so she quit. Heard she’s doing just fine though!”

Sukuna can only nod as he walks out the door to go to his next class, he can't help the growing smile on his face. It brings him back to the first day he saw you at orientation; how timid and frightened you looked before walking inside the big doors before him. How you nearly shook when asked by him what your major was, voice full of uncertainty when you told him undeclared. Truly, it amazed Sukuna to see how much you've grown now compared to him.

It looked like he had some catching up to do.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"When are you leaving for your study group?" Uruame, your new roommate, yells from her room. You got along with her quite well for having just met her a few months ago.

"Maybe in about ten minutes or less? Why?" You close your laptop, having just finished a task for your internship.

"Oh, good. I have a friend coming over soon, that's why. He should be gone by the time you come back." She can be heard rumbling around through the room before adding, "He should be here any minute. When he does, can you open the door for him?"

You yell back a yea and within five minutes there's a knock on the door. "Hi-” All you can really do is stare.

Sukuna is speechless as well as he watches you move to the side to let him in. He passes through the threshold, unsure of what to say.

"Sorry about that," you tell him, closing the door behind him and clearing your throat. "It's nice to see you again."

He only nods. "I didn't know you were Uruame's roommate. If I knew-"

"It's okay!" you chirp up, guiding the pink hair to the living room. “Do you want some-”

"Sorry for the wait!" Uruame finally comes out, pecking Sukuna on the cheek.

You quickly look away.

He watches you. And you miss the way he's searching for you, the way he’s trying to tell you something.

"I should get going!" You chime, trying to change the mood. You round the living room and grab your things.

He notices the way your back is facing him the entire time. "Where are you going?"

You offer him a small smile but he notices how you won't look him in the eye. "The library."

Once the study group session is over, you overhear two girls talking about the books in the library. "Actually I noticed the same thing too. A lot of the books are checked out by his name.”

"What was it again?"

"I don't remember but I think it’s kinda romantic.”

Later that night, as you’re eating dinner with Uruame, you learn that she and Sukuna were in a situationship. They had been hooking up for a couple of weeks now and wanted to test the waters a bit before confirming anything. You muster up a smile and wish them the best. Truly.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

For the next couple of days, something inside your core shook. Nothing you ate sat right in your stomach; it was nonsense really. You both really never had any deeper relationship than a few conversations sprinkled in the past three years.

Unintentionally, you had buried yourself in work, having a backlog of tasks and assignments to juggle alongside your job. Sukuna came by a couple of times a week at the apartment and sometimes it was Uruame who would be gone for a few days at his frat house. A few acknowledged nods whenever you were in the living area before he disappeared into Uruame’s room, that was all. You made sure to keep it minimal.

Whenever you heard the door close to Uruame’s room with a few laughs and a belt hitting the floor, you always made sure to leave the unit as quickly as possible. You always timed when your shift ended and when he would leave the house; it was for the best.

Sometimes you weren’t so lucky. Hearing the roar of the engine outside your apartment was something you’ve come accustomed to at this point. Sometimes Sukuna drops Uruame off when you leave for your work shift, who's leaning against his motorcycle, a cigarette lazily resting between his lips. As you acknowledge him, he slips the cigarette butt out of his mouth and onto the floor to stomp it out, before giving you a curt nod back. His eyes follow you as he watches you get into the car.

Or when you accidentally come out of the shower with just a towel around you just as Sukuna walks in. Who immediately apologizes and covers his eyes and turns around for invading your privacy.

But you like to think you’ve done a good job of giving Uruame and Sukuna the privacy they need. It’s the least you can do.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When Sukuna gets a late night text from Uruame to come over, he sneaks in quietly, unlocking the door from the key that you told him about under the doormat, to which he had practically scolded you for how easy and cliche it was for anyone to discover. He’d have to find a better spot next time.

Quietly removing his shoes, Sukuna makes his way through the house. Then he sees you knocked out on the couch, laptop on the verge of falling off your lap. He huffs out a low chuckle as the man rounds the couch to close the laptop, putting it away, and grabbing the throw blanket to keep you warm. Once satisfied, he looks at you before kneeling down and moving some hair out of your face.

“Don’t work too hard, hmm?” he tells you. He’s there and gone before the sun even rises.

Sukuna could never seem to catch your eye wherever he’s over at your place, he notices. You’re either in your room, or running an errand right when he arrives, or over at Yuta’s place studying. But that’s okay, because sometimes if he concentrates enough, it’s moments like these that he likes.

Sukuna can smell whatever you're baking as you hum in the kitchen from Uruame’s room. He wonders what it’d taste like. What you look like. Were you hopping around dancing in the kitchen with a spatula in your hand? Were you covered in flour when he heard you scream as you burned and messed up the measurements for the brownies you were making for your co-workers?

And when he leaves your apartment for the week, passing by the island in the kitchen, he sees a note that reads “feel free to take some” with a smile-y face scribbled on it.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The apartment has become more lively lately as the first round of midterms for the semester are coming around. You, Maki, Toge, Yuta, and Panda are supposed to be studying for the upcoming test for your class but somehow the monopoly game ended up on the table and you’re in jail for the eighth time.

"No deal," Toge tells you.

"What!?" You complain. "I'm literally giving you the last Railroad to make a complete set."

"Yea, and why would I exchange The Boardwalk and give you a complete set. It’s totally unfair."

The other bystanders grumble out agreements and you hate how they're on Toge’s side when they were the ones who encouraged you to make the deal in the first place.

Sukuna is leaning against the door that separates you and him, trying to get even the smallest detail of what's going on on the other side. Uruame was asleep and he was supposed to have left thirty minutes ago, but when he heard your voice along with your friends, he froze.

And now he's listening to you angrily yell and try to miserably seal a deal that he, unfortunately, also doesn't agree on. It's the worst thing Sukuna’s ever heard and he's trying his best to stifle the rumbling in his throat. Oh God, you were so bad at this.

"You know," Toge deadpans, “Why don’t you just admit that you’re just threatened by me."

"Oh please," you bite back. "When have I ever felt threatened by you?"

"What are you talking about?" he flabbergasts. "If I gave you The Boardwalk you'd max out the hotel immediately and you'd win the game."

"Which is only two spots!” Your fingers emphasize the number two. “You have four!"

"Which I always land on!" He leans forward on the table, not backing down. “Do you know how unlucky I have to be to always land on them?”

"What if she gave you fifteen percent of the revenue as part of the deal?"

Everyone jumps at the voice, startled. He’s done this many times, and yet he always catches you off guard. You stand up right to turn to look at him.

"Oh, I thought you already left."

Maki watches you, flicks her eyes towards the pink haired man before silently reorganizing her cards.

"Overslept," Sukuna tells you nonchalantly. He nods towards Toge. "What do you think of that deal?"

Toge can barely muster out a nod as Sukuna explains to him the terms and conditions. All you can do is look at him. Perhaps what Toji said to you in secrecy was true. It did look like he was going through a rough time at home. Toji didn’t delve too much into it, wanting to respect Sukuna’s privacy. All you knew was the one sentence that stuck with you, “He may not look like it, but family means a lot to him.”

He did seem a bit softer around the edges now. The tattoos that were littered over his body didn’t seem all that intimidating anymore. His eyes, though not evident unless you look closely like you are now, have eye bags under them. His eyes flicker to you as he says, “That sounds good to you?”

You blink at him. Once. Twice. “Um… what? Sorry.”

Maki couldn’t help but smirk down at her lap.

Sukuna leans one arm on the back of the sofa, the other pointing at the board game. He’s so close that you feel the heat radiating off of him. The proximity makes you stiffen. “Toge’s gonna trade The Boardwalk with your Railroad as long as you give him twenty percent of the money anytime someone lands on it. I raised the profit for him to accept, that okay? You’ll still be able to keep a majority of the money anyways, especially with the other cards you have.”

You highly doubt Toge accepted it because of the terms and not because he was Sukuna himself. You only nod.

He nods back and pushes himself off the couch, groaning as he stretches his arms up before making his way to the door but not before saying goodbye to everyone. You walk him to the front door to see him out as he tells you “hope you win” before closing the door behind him.

You do win that night. By a landslide.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Would it be weird?” You’re laying on Maki’s bed, head hanging off the end as you wait for her to freshen up for your hang out today. “To…you know…”

Maki laughs from the other end of the room, throwing the jacket she’s finally settled on towards you. You catch it without hesitation. “Invite your roommate’s situationship?”

“They’re just taking their time,” you try to defend them once again.

“After three months?” You move over a bit as Maki settles in beside you. “Look, I think inviting him would complicate whatever you already feel about him. You already know what I’m going to tell you: do whatever you wanna do; but just think about what I’ve told you.”

Maki gives you a look when Sukuna invites himself in without even knocking, putting the spare key in his pocket and greeting everyone. You shoot her a look back.

Uruame greets the pink haired man before you can even reach the entrance. “You made it!” And gives him a quick peck on the cheek.

Toge reaches for the snack bowl. Panda suddenly chokes on his popcorn and Maki takes a big gulp from her drink.

Sukuna’s line of sight goes straight to you, offering a sheepish smile. “Hope you don’t mind, Uruame invited me.” He holds up a small gift bag, almost like a peace offering.

You finally move from the couch to grab it. “Not at all.”

Everyone has settled in, given with the help of a few mixed drinks Maki and Panda made. Uruame and Toge were in a much heated argument that has gone off course that started with toilet paper and has now changed into cereal and milk.

Taking the chance while everyone’s preoccupied, you head towards the kitchen to get the cake ready. You take a sip from your cup as you’re struggling to find both the candles and lighter. A hand comes up behind your back as you feel someone brush up against you to open the cabinet above you.

“Here you go.” Sukuna sets down the box of almost empty candles on the counter.

“Thanks,” you tell him, almost amazed that he knew where it was.

He shrugs. “Saw it here when I was cooking for Uruame.” Then gestures toward the plastic cup. “Didn’t think you were a drinker.”

You open the box and start putting the candles around the cake. “Never said I wasn’t. Just always seemed to find myself in situations where I didn’t want to.”

He huffs at that, tilting his cup.

You laugh, picking up your own to tap it against his before taking a drink together.

Sukuna watches you take a sip before finally trying his own. He could get used to this side of you.

You get back to putting the candles around the cake, putting six mix-matched colors around the border. When he sees you frantically searching for a light, Sukuna reaches into the front pockets of his jeans, flicks his cigarette lighter open and lights all the candles with ease, before putting it back.

And when the lights are turned low and everyone sings happy birthday, Sukuna wonders what you wished for as you blow out the candle. He wonders if you liked the gift he got you. Wonders if he’ll have other birthday celebrations with you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The rest of the year goes on like that. Balancing school with the internship while hosting study sessions either at your apartment, the school library or at your friend’s place. You go with the entire group to help cheer on Yuta at the rugby games, sometimes cheering on Sukuna and Toji as well.

A call erupts from your phone; unknown number. You answer it, “Hello?”

“Yn?”

His voice makes your heart skip a beat. After all, you guys don’t really talk. Not like this anyways. “What’s wrong?” You sit up in bed, removing the phone to check the time.

2:03 a.m.

The phone returns to your ear. “It’s…fuck,” you hear shuffling before a disgrunted groan. “It’s Uruame. I don’t know what’s up with her today. She can usually hold her own but she's out like, bad.”

You’re already out of bed and grabbing the keys. “I’ll come as quickly as I can. Your house right?”

He huffs a hum. “Thank you and I’m sorry.”

Pulling up to the curb of the house, you barely put the car in park as you rush out of it and meet Sukuna and your roommate on the lawn. “What’s wrong? How is she?”

The pinked haired man looks to his side, where Uruame is hanging lifeless on his shoulder. “Threw up twice so far, probably will throw up again.”

You curse under your breath as you go around to the other side to help relieve some of the weight. He brushes you off. “It’s okay, you can just open up the back of the car.”

Once having arranged the blanket you brought on the backseats, you help Sukuna put your roommate in as easy and comfortable as possible. All you guys can do is stare at her in silence.

He breaks it first. “Make sure you change her out of those clothes and have her sleep on her side with the trash next to her. And water, ones with electrolytes would be even better if you can,” he adds at the end.

You nod to everything he’s saying. “Okay, okay. Maybe I’ll stay up tonight to keep watch of her, yea?”

“Yea,” it’s the first time you’ve seen him rub his neck. “That’ll probably be good. And uh… sorry about this again. I would have driven her myself but I drinked a bit and didn’t want to risk it.”

You rock back and forth on your heels. You wanted to close the gap, to reassure him. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was.”

And then Sukuna’s shoulder slumps, looks up at the night sky as he buffs out an air before looking back down at you, his face softening. Hearing that from you, Sukuna can’t help but ruffle your hair. He holds it there before letting it run down the rest of your arm, his hand barely a touch of a whisper against yours before he says, “Get home safe,” and turns around walking away. Shoving his clenched hand into his pockets.

You put your hand onto the place he just touched, still feeling the heat from his palms. You hate how you know it’s something you’ll remember for the next couple of days.

Sukuna has his eyes trained to his phone, reacting to every vibration and every notification. He knows he shouldn't get his hopes up. You aren't obligated to update him at all. He's half listening to Mahito’s conversation when he receives a message.

You: Got home safe.

And he stares at it for a long time.

“Careful there,” Shui joins him on the backyard patio and offers him a cigarette, “you might burn a hole into your phone.

Sukuna waves it off. "I dont smoke anymore."

Shui’s eyes are still stuck on Sukuna’s phone before Sukuna quickly turns off the screen, which causes the senior to raise a brow at the man before putting the box back into his pocket. "Huh…”

“What?” The junior says almost begrudgingly.

Shui only shakes his head. “Nothing… just curious when you started caring about your health."

He remains silent. A ping! gets both of their attention but Sukuna swipes the notification away quickly but Shui caught it.

You: Thank you again. Have a good night :)

"Oh." Shui says. "It's like that.”

Sukuna ignores his upperclassmen and looks up to the sky in silence, teeth grinding.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When you settle into the bed in Uruame’s room, she mumbles, “I think I’m in love with Sukuna.” You stop whatever you’re doing, frozen, wishing you could freeze time itself right now. This last thing you never wanted to hear from her. You had promised yourself you’d be happy for her if it ever came to this very moment.

“I was too much of a pussy to tell him tonight, which is why…” she burps and you immediately move the trash closer to her. And the next thing you know, she’s asleep and you’re darting out of the room, out the apartment, and rushing back to the library to check one thing.

Your body automatically moves to that aisle, the very same one you saw Sukuna kiss that girl two years ago. You push that thought away as you pull a random book off the shelf and flip to the inside of the book cover. You’ve always had an inkling of what was in the books after you caught the two girls talking sophomore year. You never checked it because you didn’t want to confirm what you already knew. Didn’t want to give yourself hope; wanted to deny yourself the reality because it’d just complicate things.

There, on the book checkout log, written in all caps, reads Sukuna Ryomen. Checked out on Monday.

You pick up another book, this time at the very bottom. Again, it reads, Sukuna Ryomen. Checked out on Wednesday.

You pick another one. Sukuna Ryomen. Checked out on Thursday.

Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen. Sukuna Ryomen.

And it’s hard to keep your breath steady as the books lay there telling a story. One you don’t want to read, one you don’t want to finish. He had checked out all the books in the aisle you often worked in. On all the days where you had a shift. On the dates even after you resigned from the job.

It's the first time you break down into tears.

Finally back at the apartment, you get into the covers with Uruame, who’s sober enough to take you in her arms. “What’s wrong?” She rubs your back.

You shake your head and bury your head into her chest. “Nothing.” Even that word leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Before you know it, Sukuna’s birthday comes around and Uruame has invited you to tag along. Afterall, it was only common courtesy to show up since he came to yours. That didn’t mean you weren’t dreading this night, especially not when your roommate had confided in you that tonight was the night she was going to make it official with Sukuna. So you’re here as Uruame’s emotional support, it’s the least you could do.

“Wish me luck,” she told you, squeezing you into a hug as you both went different ways at the party. You lost her quickly in the sea of people as you made your way to Maki and Toge.

Maki’s dipping her toe in the pool while Toge is floating next to her. Their hair dripping, evident of having already swum before you arrived. You join them.

“Ten dollars she’ll back down like last time,” Maki teases you, nudging your side with a wide knowing smirk.

“Hey,” your voice stern. “Leave her be.”

Toge swims over to you. “What? She’s backed down like, five other times.”

“Be nice.” Your feet kick water his way, he dodges easily. “I think she’s serious about it now.”

“Yea and Sukuna had to call you to pick her drunk ass self up.”

Maki dismisses the comment with a wave of her hand. “And you’re okay with that? With her making it exclusive with Sukuna and everything.”

You shrug, looking into the pool water, focusing on the bracelet he had given you for your birthday. “It’s not about me being okay with it, it’s about me being supportive and happy for her.”

Maki hums. “Speaking of, have you said happy birthday to the birthday boy yet?”

You shake your head, thankful for the quick conversation change. “Nope. Didn’t see him when I walked in. I’ll do it later.”

Toge snorts before diving back into the water. The night continues on like this, with Yuta joining after finally being able to get away from the guys. All while this is happening, you can’t help but constantly scan the lawn and house in hopes of catching those eyes. You keep telling yourself it’s Uruame’s you’re trying to keep watch of but your heart knows otherwise.

You’re on your way back from the bathroom, heading back to the poolside when someone taps your shoulder.

You turn and it's the man of the hour.

The smile begins to grow on your face before you even know it. "I was beginning to worry if I'd get to see the birthday boy," you tease him a bit.

Sukuna rolls his eyes at that. "'m sorry. Being the host and birthday boy is not for the weak.

As Maki, Toge, and Yuta get out of the pool to dry themselves to join you both, a group of frat boys head your way. Mahito at the front, holding a tray of shots. “You guys wanna take a shot for the birthday boy?” His smile on his face gives you chills, and you haven’t even gone in the water.

Before you know it, everyone has a shot in their hand. Everyone besides you. Mahito notices this and nudges the glass into your hand. Sukuna scowls at this and brushes his hand off as a warning. “She doesn’t want a drink.”

“It’s okay,” you offer a small smile to your friend before timidly taking it. “It’s for Sukuna, right?”

Mahito throws a smile you don’t catch to Sukuna before stepping closer and raising his glass, “The one and only.”

Everyone incoherently says cheers before downing the shot. As you bring the glass to your mouth, you wince at the burning sensation. Mahito takes the opportunity to begin pouring you another shot. A tattooed hand covers yours before it can reach your lips. Just as smoothly, Sukuna somehow takes the glass out of your hand and downs it just as quickly before giving a cold stare at Mahito. “What did I just tell you?”

Mahito only laughs. “What? It’s just for fun, it’s your birthday.”

“Yea, so fuck off.”

You’re all just standing there timidly, frozen, unsure of what to do. Afraid to make one small move in the tense atmosphere. You watch as Mahito raises a hand in surrender before turning around and leaving.

Sukuna turns to your group before sighing, “Sorry about that. Mahito’s… just ignore him. Don’t think too much about it.”

You give him a reassuring smile when he lingers on you. “Alright.” You rock on your heels. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” he says almost sheepishly and you want to tease him.

“Actually-” You rummage through your pockets, wondering where the keychain was when Toji hollers at him. You both look at the man and he freezes, realizing he’s interrupting a moment again. You laugh and wave Sukuna off, “Go.”

“You sure?” he’s already walking away backwards, trying to read your face for an absolute answer.

You nod your head enthusiastically before Sukuna turns back and yells back at Toji, nearly tackling him down.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As the hours go by, you aren’t ever able to reconnect with the birthday boy. There were fleeting moments whenever you both caught each other's eyes from across the room. Moments where you are both so close to closing the gap, your hand in your pocket for the keychain you want to give him before you’re both pulled away in different directions.

The moment you are able to get away from your friend croup and the entire crowd, you stumble upon your roommate in a corner on the verge of blacking out. You immediately rush over, gently tapping her. When she doesn’t respond in the first few taps, you start to panic.

As her head falls into your hand and you feel her wet saliva coating it, she mumbles out your name. Her eyes are unfocused, darting everywhere, not quite focusing on one thing. You hate that you know this is a sign that whatever Uruame planned didn’t go accordingly. You curse under your breath.

You repeat her name over and over again. “Do you want some water?” you ask quickly, trying to squeeze in as many questions and information in the small time window before she’s unconscious again.

The moment she nods, you pull her into a lounge chair nowhere near the pool and frantically make your way inside the house. You’re scrambling around the kitchen before you bump into the man of the hour.

“Whoa, slow down there,” he teases, grabbing onto your hands to steady yourself.

You look up at him and his smile immediately drops.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Getting out of his grip, you sigh, pinching the space between the eyes. “It’s Uruame again. She’s literally on the verge of blacking out.”

“Again?”

Turning your head to your side, you look outside to make sure she somehow hasn’t moved. “What did you say to her?”

Sukuna cranes his head down, trying to catch your eyes, hand barely twitching as his side.. “Nothing that would have caused her to be like this again.” He calls out your name. “Really, what is this about?”

If he truly didn’t know why Uruame was like this, then who did? You wouldn’t entertain the thought. Wouldn’t allow yourself to. You shake your head. “It’s nothing. I was looking for some water bottles and it’s- I think it’s time for us to go home.”

As reluctant as he was, the tall man can only nod. “At least let me help.”

You shake your head, hands moving in disapproval. “No, I can’t allow that. It’s your birthday.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind”

And so you’re walking side by side with the pinked harried man as you take him to Uruame. All you both can do is look down at your roommate and sigh. “Lemme go get her stuff. Try to make her drink some water, okay?”

You hum. Just as you’re finished giving some water to Uruame, Mahito calls out your name. Before you can even fully turn to him, he wraps a heavy arm around your shoulders, making you freeze. Goosebumps immediately forming. “Let us be friends, yea? I feel like we were never properly introduced by the Sukuna all these years.”

“I’m sure it’s because it wasn’t necessary.”

Mahito cuts out a quick laugh, raising a brow to his friends. "I had an interesting talk with Uruame about it earlier tonight about you and Sukuna."

You’re trying to halt your steps at that. “Was it you?”

He laughs and that’s when you realise how much closer you’re walking along the edge of the pool. “Please, no.” The grip he has on you is deathening. “No, no, no!”

Sukuna stops rummaging around the pile of bags when he hears your distressed voice on the opposite side of the pool. “Mahito stop it!”

“I have to test one thing first,” he tells himself as he pushes you into the water.

As Sukuna watches you fall in, the sounds of laughs, cheers, and clapping erupt around him and he’s taken back to freshman year all over again. The way you had told him you couldn't swim when he tried too hard to invite you to a party as a means to talk to you more. The way your eyes got so big and filled with worry.

Sukuna doesn’t care how many people he has to push out of his way before he’s jumping in right after you. He’s not taking any chances on seeing if you resurfaced. As he swam in the water, he saw the way you were struggling, clawing at the water for anything to grasp onto.

When you nearly rip his skin off from grabbing him, Sukuna emerges from the water, holding you close to him. He cradles your head as he searches for you, “It’s okay. I’m here, just breathe. Breathe.”

The crowd slows to a murmur before it’s completely silent as they watch Sukuna carry you out of the pool, face hidden in his neck. Toji is standing there, breathless, having run from upstairs of the house to see what the commotion was. He stalks to the nearest person and tears their phone out of their hand and into the water. “Anybody else want to be next?”

Mahito shoves past Toji, displaying his best grin. “It was just a joke, Sukuna. No need to be so fucking serious.”

Sukuna walks past him, not sparing his president a single glance.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Sukuna gently sets you down on his bed, not caring for one moment about it getting wet. He’s frantically moving around the room, almost as if he were trying to collect his thoughts before handing you a towel and turning away to look through his drawers. You’re trying to dry yourself before he tells you, “Hands up.”

You listen immediately and feel him pull your shirt off and replace with a new one. You know this scent, smell it all the time whenever he’s over at the apartment. You look down but you already know it’s his shirt you have on.

You’re still shaking, trembling even. Where’s Uruame? The last time you saw her, she was drunk and making a scene. You only had one drink, but would you even have the capacity to drive you both home? Especially in the state you were in? Maybe-

He calls your name. “Hey, look at me. Look at me.” Sukuna’s voice is soft but stern. He crouches down to be eye level with you, combing your wet strands away from your face. “Listen to me carefully, okay?”

You look at him and his eyes are dark; serious. Not a hint of that glint and playfulness he usually has. You swallow.

“Use my towel and dry up. I found some of Uruame’s sweats in my drawer, so you can change and put those on.”

As much as that statement hurts, you need to focus. More than ever. Everything was too hectic. You can only nod.

“Okay, okay,” he runs a hand through his still wet hair. “Toji’ll help you guys leave the party, I can’t do much right now. You didn’t drink right?”

You can barely shake your head.

He curses. “Then he'll also get you guys a cab to go home, got that? Make sure Uruame lies on her side when she sleeps. And put the trash can beside her in case she throws up.”

Why was this happening? What had Sukuna done? What had Majito done? You didn’t really understand what was happening. One moment you were having the time of your life and the next you were pushed into the water.

You’re pulled back into reality when he grabs your chin to look up at him. “You’re gonna be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You can barely hum out an acknowledgement before a tear slips from your eye, and he’s there to catch it. His thumb tracing over the contours of your cheek. The moment is fleeting as he leaves the room. There, he stops, barely looking over his shoulder before saying “I’m sorry” and the door clothes behind him. His warmth you felt on your face lingers a little longer than he ever has.

And it’s moments like these where you wished freshman year never happened. That you never knew the man called Sukuna Ryomen. All you can do is curl up into yourself.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Sukuna, listen-” Toji approaches the man of the hour after he helps you take Uruame home. But all the man does is brush past him in quiet fury.

All Sukuna can think about as he stalks to him is the look of terror painted in your face as you wer shoved into the water. They way you had begged Mahito to not do it, your voice laced with fear. The way your body went from fighting with the water to being limp within seconds.

Most importantly, he remembers the sneer on Mahito’s face. The way his eyes lit up in sadistic joy. The way his group of friends laughed with him. The way everyone laughed along with them.

Sensing the birthday boy, Mahito turns with that lopsided grin.

Sukuna punches him in the face before letting him have the first word, causing Mahito to stumble a bit. Before he can gain his footing, Sukuna grabs him by the collar of his shirt and punches him again.

Heterochromia eyes look up at him in shock then humor as he stays seated on the ground, nursing his bruising cheek. Everyone who’s watching already knows how ugly the bruise will be tomorrow.

Tattooed hands grab him by the collar of his shirt again, lifting Mahito up to his height. “I told you not fuck things up.”

The grey-blue haired man turns his head to spit out the blood accumulating in his mouth, offering Sukuna a blood coated smile. “I was just trying to have some fun.”

“Fun?” Sukuna spits out, bringing Mahito’s face closer to his. “She doesn’t know how to swim, you could’ve killed her.”

“Well, lucky that her knight and shining armour came to the rescue just in time.”

Sukuna growls and goes for another punch.

But before he can do more damage, Toji shoves them both away. When the red eyed man tries to come at Mahito again, Toji has to use all his strength to push him away again. “Stop it,” he grits out. He turns to look at Mahito. “Both of you.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Slamming the door to his room, Toji yells at his friend. “What the fuck are you thinking?”

Sukuna runs his hands into his now dried hair, not turning around. “He deserved it.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

It is only then, with that statement, that Sukuna spins around. “It doesn’t matter? It doesn’t matter? Because of him, Yn could have died. Don’t tell me it doesn’t matter.”

The scar-lipped man looks down at him. “You know that’s not what I meant. You just made things more complicated.”

“I don’t care. Because…”

“Because what!?” Toji finally snaps. “You don’t even know what you want!”

“I want her!” Sukuna professes. And then there’s silence as the words sink in. Toji refuses to speak as he simply watches his friend process those words. Watches as dread follows realization.

In a softer tone, Sukuna continues, “From the moment I saw her, I knew.” He swallows. “I have always wanted her.”

“You don’t mean that,” But when his friend gives Toji that look of resolution, of unwavered certainty, it’s his turn to swallow. “You can’t possibly mean that, you’re with Uruame.”

“I tried! I tried so hard to get her away from me!” Sukuna pulls on his hair and looks to Toji for help. “I just couldn’t stay away from her!”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“I can’t do anything!” The pink hair holds up his wrist in agony. “I’m stuck! Jin’s health is deteriorating and father refuses to help because of that woman, so no one can watch over Itadori but me. I can barely make it to my classes in order to take care of him. I’ve been avoiding Uruame because I know she wants more than what I can give her and I can barely stand to be in the same fucking room as Mahito without wanting to strangle him! So tell me Toji, tell me how I’m supposed to push this all on Yn? She doesn’t deserve to be part of this mess, she-”

Toji grabs Sukuna and pulls him into a hug. “It’s okay. You know I’ll be here for you. It’ll be okay.”

And then Sukuna breaks down.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Sukuna’s visits become less and less to the point where he stops coming at all. You try not to think too much about it until Uruame comes back to the apartment slamming the door closed yelling at the top of her lungs about how much of a bitch the pink haired man can be before she gets into a sobbing mess about how polite he was in turning her down even after months of hooking up.

And so you never see him around ever, anywhere. There are occasional times when you see him rushing to class, but that’s about it. His group dwindled smaller and smaller until it was just him and Toji. Most of the time, he was alone. Headphones on. Shoulders a lot heavier. Hair longer and messier. You notice the black and red varsity jacket that he always wore proudly that displayed his fraternity was no longer seen on him. You also weren’t sure if you saw it correctly, but you were sure you saw a cast on his leg one day too.

“Broke his ankle,” Maki says, so nonchalantly that you almost miss it. “Got it stepped on in a qualifying game. Out for the rest of the reason.”

“What?” you stop taking notes and stare at her.

“Heard it from Yuta. Covered his face when he was carried off the field.” She sighs and looks at you. “Luckily no surgery was needed.”

“Yea…” Panda adds. “He’s in some deep shit right now from what the rumors say.”

That only deepens your furrowed brows.

“He punched the president of his fraternity straight through the face in one of the parties last week." Panda smirks. "Wished I was there to witness it."

Your pencil stops. That was the night you fell into the pool.

"He got kicked out," Toge states matter of factly.

Panda hums. "Makes sense. Supposedly he and the president never got along in the first place. Sukuna wanted to run for president and was shot down at any chance he got. They were always disagreeing on things. Pretty sure the fight was the perfect excuse for the president to use against Sukuna to kick him out."

“Do you know why?” you finally have the courage to muster out, afraid your voice would betray your emotion if your face wasn’t already.

Maki shrugs. “Not really. Yuta just told me the president had whispered something into his ear and the next thing he knew, he saw Sukuna punch Mahito in the face. Even Toji struggled to get the man off. Toji of all people. Can you believe that?”

Whatever concentration you have has dissipated. None of this made sense. Sure he looked like a rough person but you've seen him. Seen the way he put leftovers in the fridge and wrote, “feel free to take some, made too much,” on a hello kitty sticky note whenever he cooked for him and Uruame when you came home past midnight. Who, even after two weeks of you having eaten it, asks how you liked it. Sukuna, who as Uruame recounted for you, had helped you into your room when you stumbled into the apartment a little bit past tipsy and that you should be grateful towards him. Sukuna, who, after a rugby game and after putting down Uruame from a tight embrace, greets and bows to you and your friend group politely. Not leaving a single one out.

It just didn’t add up. It wasn’t the Sukuna you knew, was it? Then again, you guys were barely friends. Not even considered acquaintances. Just fleeting moments and encounters sprinkled across three years.

That was the last anyone ever saw Sukuna for the last half of the semester of junior year. Not even Toji. "Even if I did, I wouldn't tell ya." He answers you after weeks of persistence before quickly walking away from you. Expelled. Dropped out. That was what you hear around campus.

As rapid as the fire was, it dissipated just as quickly. A whisper of a ghost. Sukuna who? No one knew of that person. The rugby team spoke about him as a martyr. The fraternity scorned it out of existence.

The only recorded memory was his name scorched in those books.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You tap your feet to the ticking of the clock, hoping that it'll help fasten up the pace at the coffee shop. You were angry at yourself for losing a bet with Toge and now you are going to be fetching the group coffee in the morning for the next month.

"I can help the next person here!" A worker calls, frantically trying to set up the cashier station. Quickly wiping off washed hands, he asks, "Sorry ‘bout the wait, what can I get you?"

"Sukuna?"

He looks up from his hat, frozen in place by who’s in front of him. "Yn?"

Sukuna sees the way you look him up and down and he’s almost embarrassed. "I didn't know you worked here. Um, three iced Americans please, if you would."

He shrugs, punching in the order. "I actually work in the back. Had to open up this cash register to help with the rush hour. Medium size?"

You can only nod as you continue to stare at him. He had a cap on but from the tips poking out, you can tell his pink hair has faded to a warm salmon color, a whisper of the past he’s trying to forget, or correct. You purse your lips and look at him. Really look at him. It's been almost six months since you've seen him. His arms look a little stronger. That smile, though a little awkward right now, is just a little softer. His eyes are just as you remember. You pass him your card.

He pushes it back, shaking his head. "It's okay. It's on me."

"No,” you huff, trying to smile but failing. “I couldn’t-"

And then he's yelling out the order to the back and passing the receipt. "It was nice seeing you again, Yn." And the next person is already approaching his register.

For some reason, you feel guilty for not telling Uruame about running into Sukuna. In fact, you don’t tell her at all. Or anyone, really. Your secret to keep, your secret to tell.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Somehow, it slowly became a routine for the both of you. Oftentimes, you’re surprised no one in your friend group has caught on to you, sometimes purposely losing the monthly bet just to catch Sukuna at the cafe.

It’s harmless, you often told yourself. You weren’t doing anything wrong, per say. It had taken you a few weeks to get Sukuna’s work hours right, but when you did, even he couldn’t help but have his eyes drawn to the door whenever the chime rang through the cafe.

You crouch in front of the little boy, offering him a soft smile with a tilt of your head. "I like your pink beanie."

Itadori beams in his seat. "Thank you! Me too!" Then he leans in closer and you can't help but reciprocate. "Grandpa says I can't dye my hair pink like Uncle Sukuna or else he’d kill me so Uncle Sukuna bought me a pink beanie instead."

You can't help but chuckle. "Oh, that's too bad."

"It's okay! He told me secretly that when I move in with him he'll dye my hair the same color!" He closes his eyes with satisfaction.

You offer him a high five and he takes it.

Sukuna scoffs teasingly and you turn at the noise. He's drying off a mug as you walk up to the counter, pulling up a seat. "Don't encourage his behavior. I don’t want him to turn out like me."

You give him a lopsided grin and he nearly drops the ceramic object. "Would that be so bad?"

"Yes," he looks past you, his eyes softening. Something you haven't seen often now. "I want him to be better than me.”

You toy with the sugar packets. “I think you’re a good role model in his life.”

Sukuna finally sets the mug down, shaking his head. “What good am I? Some college drop-out working at some deadbeat job?”

“You’re just taking a break right now to focus on your family. You’re doing it for him.”

The barista puts his hands on the edge of the counter, flexing it, looking once more at Itadori, who gives him a big smile before Sukuna’s line of sight is back on you. “You don’t understand. I’m not a good person.”

“You are,” you tell him firmly.

“I’m not, just look at me.” His voice is full of disdain and poisonous venom.

“All I see is you, Sukuna,” your voice a soft whisper.

He frowns at that.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Maki flicks her gaze your way before quickly looking away and at Toge instead, bulging out her eyes out as if sending him a message. Toge raises both his eyebrows and jerks his head to Panda, who is sitting besides you, sipping his milkshake. Panda, shaking his head in refusal, silenting slices his neck in the air with his finger before pointing it at the platinum blonde boy.

Toge frowns and resorts to stomping on Maki's feet, to whom yelps and bangs her knee on the table. It is only then that you stop staring at your phone and look up at them quizzically.

Maki throws her fist in the air as a silent threat to Toge before putting on a smile to you. “Are you okay?”

“Yea, why wouldn’t I be?” you tell them curtly.

“Well I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you haven’t even noticed the fries that Panda has been stealing or the fact that you’ve been staring at your phone as if- OW!” Toge’s knee jerks up to hit the table as Maki shoots him a death glare.

“You haven’t been engaging with us at all today,” Maki clarifies.

It was true, but you couldn’t help it. After that conversation with Sukuna, he wasn’t messaging you as much nor was he in the cafe whenever you stopped by. You didn’t think you had done anything that day to set him off. Actually, you were entitled to anything. But instead, all you can muster is, “I’m okay, really. Just a busy day at my internship, you know how it is.”

As Panda nods in fake understanding, milkshake forgotten as he makes eye contact with the other two.

Given the signal, Maki reaches over the table to touch your hand. “We know.”

You freeze at that. “See? So there’s nothing-”

The twin shakes her head. “No, we know.”

“I don’t- I-”

Panda finally speaks up. “It’s okay.”

This time it’s Toge who steals one of your remaining fries. “Do you know how often you were smiling at your phone? How much happier you were suddenly? Not to mention, how often you were losing the bets when we all know how good you are at winning them?”

You open your mouth to deny those claims but Panda steps in again nonchalantly.

“Plus, you left your phone open when you went to use the bathroom two weeks ago at Yuta’s apartment. We all saw the notification from him.”

All you can do is stare at them in silence. Afraid to speak. Afraid to understand all of this. They look at you in return, just watching. Not a single one is pressuring you. Finally, “What do I do guys?”

“That’s for you to finally decide on. What you both decide on,” Maki tells you.

Toge chimes in, “What we’re gonna do is order another milkshake and fries.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Sukuna is sweeping up the floor when he hears the sharp chime of the door. “We’re closed-”

And then he looks up, because he can hear the heavy breathing and his ears tell him all that he needs to know before even looking up. He stops sweeping. “What are you doing here?”

“Have I upset you?” you can barely breathe and you’re not quite sure if it’s from the running or the adrenaline coursing through your body from spontaneously showing up like this.

Sukuna leans the broom against a chair and stuffs his hand into his pockets. “No?”

His body language ticks something off inside of you. “Then can you explain why you have been avoiding me? Whenever I come into the cafe, I never seem to catch you when you’re in. I’m sorry if I offended you the other day, I didn’t mean to.”

The tattooed man looks up at the ceiling for a long time. So long in fact that you’re about to repeat what you’ve just said again, a hundred times if you needed to, until he says, “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?!” you finally tell him, trying your hardest to catch his eyes.

“It’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”

“What you don’t understand,” you step closer to him, voice catching, “is that I don’t know my own heart anymore. I don’t even know how to name what I'm feeling. I thought we were friends, and yet--”

Sukuna physically flinches. “We can’t be friends.”

Your brows furrow, getting further and further from ever truly understanding what’s going on in his brain, what’s going on with him. You can’t even comprehend what he’s saying. “What?”

“Because,” he finally says, voice shaking, “I don’t want to be your friend. We can’t be just friends.” He looks up at you and his eyes are so full with pain and longing it actually takes your breath away. “I love you.”

He breaks.

His voice. His face. His heart.

He can’t meet your eyes, almost shameful. “I love you,” he says, his words harsh and soft and vulnerable all at once. “But this isn’t how I wanted it to be.”

“Sukuna-”

He trembles at the sound of his name falling from your lips, finally, finally looking at you. “Please, leave. I can’t bear it anymore.”

And then you’re digging into your pockets, fishing out the worn out baby tiger keychain from years of carrying it. The same keychain you had mistakenly taken with your belongings when you rushed out of his dorm room after the kiss. The constant and only reminder that it had happened, that it wasn’t somehow a mistake. Amongst the warm metal, the keychain trembles in your hand as you hold it out to him.

“I’ve carried it all this time,” you tell him softly. “I meant to, somehow, give it to you earlier, but there was never a proper moment. But I think now is a good time to let it go.”

Sukuna takes it into his hands, face unreadable as he turns it over in his palms.

It was you.

The lucky charm, a matching keychain set Sukuna bought for Itadori when he was born. He still can remember the devastated look his nephew gave Sukuna when he broke the news of losing his pair.

It was the same one he spent all these years looking for; turning over each furniture in the house and driving Toji up the wall because he refused to play in any rugby game, be in any conference, or take any test without it. He thought he had lost it but all along it was you who had it. Yes… all along it was you.

He looks up and he finds that your eyes are searching his just as his are to yours. The keychain somehow burning in his palms with every passing second.

Sukuna can feel lit. He can feel you slipping away as you turn away from him and start to walk away. His voice catches in his throat and he has to swallow twice before finally saying, “I want you.” You stop. “From the moment I saw you at orientation, I have always wanted you.”

“From the moment I kissed you, I was yours. You were never going to be just an easy hook-up but I was afraid of hurting you. I’m not a good person.” He wants you to turn around, but Sukuna knows he doesn’t deserve that from you. Not after all that he’s put you through. "You are my oxygen. When I'm with you, it's like a breath of fresh air. When I’m not near you, I can't breathe without you.

“I do,” you state simply, words hanging on by a thread, “I do think of you. All the time. I wanted to forget but I couldn't.”

You finally turn around to look at him. “You stole my first kiss, and my heart. These past three years I tried to forget these feelings, forget everything, ashamed because I thought I was the only one.

“Never.”

Your entire body is trembling as you turn in resolution. “Don’t. Don’t give me hope. I can’t- we can’t. Uruame-”

“I know.” Boldly, he closes the distance between you and cups your face. In a whisper, “I know. I’ll figure something out, we'll make it work. I promise you that.”

“Sukuna,” you cry out, hand on his wrists. Unsure, just like him. You want to shake your head but his hands stop you from doing so, eyes never leaving yours. You’re unsure about all of this and you think he is too but then soft lips reach yours.

The kiss is tentative, wary, hesitant and when you open up to him and reciprocate, you hear a sigh leave his entire body. Sukuna’s grip on your face tightens as if he doesn’t want to let this moment go; as if he didn’t hold you tight enough you’d disappear. The kiss, started shy and uncertain, becomes bold and unyielding.

You pull him just as close. Lips following a steady rhythm, almost like a song written on a track record you had forgotten all these years. With every passing moment, the kiss deepens, as if it were trying to make up for all the longing stares and stolen touches, of unvoiced desires and quiet understanding.

Sukuna savors every breath and taste and commits it to memory. His hand makes it to the bottom of your shirt, finger slipping under to simply stay there on your abdomen. Something to ground him. His lips are slow and searching, drinking you in one moment and barely there the next.

Before you step back, he pulls you in for one more kiss. He sighs your name as he holds you close. Too soon, he pulls away. He’s breathing hard, and his gaze is still fixed on your mouth.

You attempt a deep breath, but there’s no oxygen in the room. Everything is him. Everything is Sukuna. His fingers clench tight around your waist, holding you in place.

You try to tilt your head so you can fuse his mouth to yours but he takes over the movement, guiding your head to the perfect angle so he can trace his tongue over your lips.

Every little insignificance and coincidences, all the struggles and problems fade to nothing as the both are able to embrace each other.

Sukuna runs a thumb across your cheek before tucking a strand back into place. He sighs your name as he holds you close. “I-”

Your lips are still warm. You feel his lips on every syllable you speak. “I love you, Sukuna.”

He puts his forehead against yours and smiles. “I love you too.”

And you know, whatever happens next, you'll both figure it out.

#not my best works but it's something #might add an epilogue who knows #jujustu kaisen #jjk #jujustu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen angst #sukuna ryomen fluff #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x you

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chicksmoothie · 1 day ago

Text

• Lovedrunk — mingi

Pairing: bf!mingi x gf!reader

— Mingi and you finally decide to move in together, but truth to be told you didn’t have time for each other more than for the basics. This means you are desperate to spend time just enjoying the other’s company (and fuck, and well, it shows)

! Long fuck fic

! based on Say it like you mean it characters but not mentioning its plot

W/C: ~4.8K

Genre: smut, fluff, established relationship, madly in love

Warnings: +18, mdni (seriously), cursing (a lot), dirty talking (another lot), teasing, edging, slight possessive behaviour (from both parts), breeding kink, praise kink, size kink, honestly this is a kink compilation, raw sex (you know you shouldn’t), needy mingi & needy reader, both vibing in the same horny kind of tune, pure hornyness, dry humping, a lot of spit, oral (f receiving), making out, multiple orgasms and therefore overstim, squirting, switch dynamics (rather bratty power bottom reader x service top mingi but also kind of switching so idk?), filming, this counts as a warning too cos really madly in love should be a warning, let me know if I forgot something i hope not cos this warnings are longer than the fic already

A/N: at the end

Also: this oneshot is fiction and in no way aims to portrait anyone involved in the story

Taglist: @i01233 @tinie03 @thesupreme316 @esmedelacroix thanks for waiting ♡

His scent was all over the room after taking a shower. His arm still a bit humid and warmer than usual had you hugged close to him under the blanket. And you couldn’t see it well since it was dark in the room, but the red and white highlights flashing from the tv painting his beautiful profile and the screen reflecting on his glasses had you totally distracted.

you were trying so hard to focus on the anime you decided to watch together. You were so, so trying it…

But the way his casual and cozy look caught your breath each time you had the chance to see it since you moved in together had no hopes in changing, ever.

It had been some time since you had had a quality time and chill night together due to hectic schedules at work and all the move in process, so now that the stars aligned and you had the same days off you wanted it to be as actually chill as possible and restricted every single dirty thought about pulling his glasses off and kiss him to start with.

If only his fingers were not playing with yours under the blanket. If only his shampoo wasn’t the same as yours and you didn’t weirdly get off to that because it meant you were actually living together. If only you weren’t so pent up after nearly a week without seeing each other for anything else but eating and sleeping if you were lucky.

If only you didn’t feel your heart skip a beat every time he chuckled when he found something funny happening in the anime that you were totally not watching.

If only you didn’t love him so fucking much.

Mingi turned his face your way while still smiling to check if you found the scene as funny as he did.

And you will never know what he saw on your face at this very moment, but his smile dropped and his eyes narrowed in only one second. “What’s up babychick? You don’t like the series?”

He knew exactly what was up, but he chose to play dumb for a moment. “Yes, yes, i am loving it,” you recovered quickly from your trance ”it is so interesting” and decided to play along. You smiled, lovingly, not showing how sarcastic you were actually being and on the contrary making it sound as genuine as possible.

You turned your face to the screen just in time to catch a smirk slowly growing on his face. He wanted to play? This you could do it. No problem at all.

—

The voices coming from the tv were white noise and ambient sound at this point. You had been silent since your little conversation earlier, but no words were needed when both of you were anticipating what was going to happen. You knew each other already, so you could tell that Mingi was getting impatient by how he looked at you from the corner of his eye. His tease was backfiring completely and all he could think about was him eating you out, but he didn’t want to lose just yet.

It all started to get complicated for him with you pulling up slightly at the hem of his shirt and placing your hand on his lower stomach pretending you were looking for some kind of warmth, your hand was cold you said. Sneaky girl… and eventho his breath hitched for one millisecond he continued with your little edging game.

He put his hand over yours, saying that by doing so it would warm up quicker. And it could have been an innocent gesture if only he wasn’t tracing random forms and decorating your fingers in suggestive caresses. Fucking tease… Good thing someone died in the anime in this exact moment, that way your little pout could pass as unbothered.

But you were bothered. Both of you were since long ago. All the second intentions behind the caresses, all the low whimpers you could hear from one another at every single touch and trying to contain yourselves from just lose it all and finally fuck were agonizing at this point.

You knowing he was already half hard and that your hand was dangerously close to his crotch but intentionally not daring to touch him wasn’t easy.

Him knowing you were probably already soaking through the grey leggins you used as a pijamas and he had done nothing but sit beside you and hug you yet was even less easy. How bad would it be when he got started…

You realizing the hands you originally had interlaced under the blanket were now somehow resting on your tit made you sigh.

Him realizing that your nipple was perking out and begging to be pinched, squeezed, bitten, sucked and anything possible was almost unbearable.

You and him panting quietly, suffocating in the tension that you both had slowly been creating by doing nothing but know that you wanted each other very, very badly.

You were also getting impatient, so you decided to push his buttons further and you knew exactly how. Without saying a word, you broke your cozy (yet hot) hug to slowly get up the sofa. “Where are you going?” His voice was husky and a little pouty because of your sudden distance. “I am sleepy, I think I am going to be-“

You couldn’t even finish your sentence as he grabbed your arm and pulled you down, placing you on his lap right over his hard bulge. Both of you moaned at the contact. God he was harder than you thought he would be. This rilling up game was going to be one of your favorites… “stop with the teasing, you win” you smiled in victory “i always win” well, he had to agree on that.

As soon as you leaned in to take his glasses off and give him the long awaited kiss both of you were a panting mess already. The kiss was slow and nasty, drinking in each other as if you had been wandering in a desert for ages and just found a fountain.

His hands were gripping your hips hard, knuckles white and head empty, bucking up every time you grinded your pussy along his dick through your clothes. The friction so good you could cum from just that after all the built up tension, your fingers tangled in his shirt and pulled to bring him even closer. You had the feeling that he had been too far from you for too long, otherwise you wouldn’t be this extremely horny, so needy for his touch and his skin on yours already.

“I need this out of the way” you pulled his shirt off slowly, taking your time on the motion, then yours went after, both ending rumbled on the floor.

You had to take a second to admire his topless figure under you, the dim light of the tv outlining his strong figure, and you looked at him with real adoration written in your eyes “my hand is cold again…” you bit your lip shyly, putting your hand back on his lower tummy as you had done earlier, but this time you traced the pattern of his slightly defined torso up to his chest, both hands meeting at his back and feeling his wide shoulders with featherlike touches.

“You are gonna be the end of me babe, you doing this on purpose?” his head rested on the back of the sofa, eyes lidded, tensing under your light touch and waiting impatiently for you to snap and continue what had already started.

You looked at him with such a fake surprised expression, “what do you mean? I am only admiring my pretty boyfriend” and you knew what you calling him pretty would do to him.

“I thought the game ended” he growled, eyes now on the roof and his adam’s apple bobbing while swallowing a moan at the praise “yes, and I won, so I am going to savor my price” you leaned back and took his chin to make him look at you “see how I am already? You made me wet through my pijamas, anything to say about that??”

He looked down where your leggins were indeed as soaked as he had imagined, the dark patch too close to his cock for his brain to not malfunction. “I am going to fuck you so good babychick you wont be going out of bed in three working days” that you didn’t see it coming. He was never so aggressive from the beginning, but he was in such a horny state his hands were already shaking in your hips.

“Please let me eat you out” you moaned at his begging “its all I can think about” he closed his eyes and sighed just at the thought of your dripping cunt smearing his face and your sweet flavor filling his mouth. “You are so needy…” you said and he nodded slowly and deadly serious “only for you”.

One of his hands run up to your back, the other one still gripping your hip tightly. Your boy was so strong and so big it took him zero effort to stand up carrying you on top of him. “You wanted to go to bed yeah?” You grinned “I knew you would get the hint at some point”

He had been between your legs for two orgasms already. His face a dripping mess and his thumb circling your clit slowly compared to the quick pace his tongue had set on you. Slurping, moaning in your cunt, drawing random patterns in your inner thighs with his free hand to feel your soft skin somehow. He was fucking the mattress to get some kind of friction for himself although he could cum untouched by just the sound of your moans and the way you pushed his head impossibly close to you.

The overstimulation of cumming twice with just his mouth was torture but you couldn’t think about pushing him away, that would be worse. “My girl likes to go wild with overstim?” He slurped up a drop of your cum, pulling out his tongue to show you your own creamy arousal “you think you are stretched out for me already my love?”

You couldn’t take this any longer, having him inside was your top priority in this moment so you grabbed a handful of his hair and dragged him up as he moaned in pleasure due to the sudden pain while you cried “mingi, pants off” you were already naked, but he had still these black home sweatpants that normally drove you crazy but in this moment drove you mad.

He obliged and pulled them down, revealing that he had no boxers on and letting his dripping cock spring out, red, all veins on display and you swore to god you had never seen him this hard in all the time you had been together.

You were already salivating… the stretch of his cock was always good, but this time.. oh my god you couldn’t imagine it, you had to have it.

Wide open on your bed, waiting for him to put the condom on and his dick to finally fill you up, anticipating that stretch you were aching for with little whimpers trying to escape your mouth.

And he knew it.

He was sliding his tip along your entrance, covering the condom in your slick and his own spit after his make out session with your pussy. “mingi, fuck off…” you were desperate for him “baby I really want to slam in, but I have to put it in slowly” this was half true given his size and half him getting revenge for his loss, but you were not having it.

You were always the winner for a reason: whatever he did you took it further.

You rose your hips and pushed against the tip. finally, finally opening yourself for him inch by inch. You couldn’t see it because you had closed your eyes at the feeling, but he kept them wide open in a completely fucked out expression, savoring the sight of your relaxed face for having him inside you at good fucking last.

Mingi tried, but he couldn’t keep your slow pace until the end and bottomed out in one go, gasping and falling over you, completely worn out already. “god, fuck, mingi” After a few seconds of both of you adjusting to the feeling he started moving, his body still flush against yours, he didn’t bear thinking about being the slightest bit apart from you and not feel you tense, squirm and tremble underneath him. Your sweat making it easier for you to meet his movements as if you were water.

“God…Your pussy hugs me so good baby, I love it. My fucking girl… you are mine, yeah? Answer me baby please…” and he sounded as he really needed you to give a response to that question, eyes shut and forehead pressed against yours. “Mingi…” you cupped his face with both your hands to kiss him “i am yours” you whispered between his lips and dragged your fingers to his hair to pull slightly.

His beautiful reaction every time you did so made you clench around him, making him open his eyes in shock at the sudden tightness and turning his growls even deeper.

He pretended he wasn’t, but he was so needy and so clingy. So lovedrunk for you that you saying that you belonged to him had him already close to cumming.

“There is no other one for you either” you looked at him in the eyes through your lashes, pulling off your best sultry face, “you are mine too, say it” he was shuddering, loving the way you demanded his response, bossing him around from underneath him as if the one being fucked to the brim wasn’t you.

You had him so in the palm of your hand he wouldn’t mind you closing it and crush him, how could he answer anything else than that? “I am yours baby… fuck…” and that made you giggle.

“Thanks” you pecked his lips, hugging him around his neck, legs around his waist pushing him deeper and earning a low moan from him, “baby I really won’t last today”, and it was a given since you had been fucking each other really since the moment you sat on the sofa this afternoon, “so take it easy on me and behave yeah?” he was fucking you slow, the way he knew you liked it. The way he could fill you completely and leave no single untouched spot inside you. But also the only way he would be able to keep going for a while.

And just because you were dying to see him lose his mind completely were you determined to do everything you knew he loved at the same time. Pressing kisses all over his neck till you reached his earlobe and bit it, “I am behaving right? I am being so good today, what you gonna give me, hm?”

He was panting heavily, eyes shut, both his hands at each side of your head, the vision so good and his dick so deep you nearly started crying at the unbearable thrill.

But you decided to slowly move your arms down from his neck to interlace one of his hands with your own instead. Your other hand landed on your lips, tongue full of spit ready to coat your fingers in your saliva and leaving a string behind once you finished with the task, never breaking the eye contact.

Mingi couldn’t win against you being a dirty brat, but he had even less chances of winning against your hand going down where your bodies met to push one of your soaked fingers inside your cunt, stretching you even more but making it even tighter for him.

His jaw clenched and his eyes were silently asking you if you were being for fucking real right now. And oh my god you were, so for fucking real that you started moving your finger slowly inside you and rubbing his dick on your way, moaning loud and grabbing his hand tightly, needing to hold onto something for how good it was feeling for you too.

“Fuuuuuuuuck….” Fuck it, he really didn’t stand a chance from the beginning “I am gonna cum, where do you want it? Tell me babe I won’t last much more” he knew that you loved to feel his cum all over you and you were already trembling, so close yourself.

You couldn’t imagine him pulling out from you right now nor for too long, this past weeks without any intimate contact at all were working hard on you so you didn’t have to think it twice “mingi please… cum inside”

He could never have figured you would say that, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he thought about how to answer.

“Raw baby?” He finally asked with a cry, just to make sure he was understanding it right “please…” your affirmation whisper froze him and made him almost nut on the spot.

He slowly carried on with the roll of his hips, struggling with the pace while the only thing on his mind was to piston fuck you into the bed after what you had asked him to do “you can’t say shit like that”. He was struggling, gritting his teeth and he really wanted to obey but you would regret this tomorrow, this had been said in the heat of the moment, or at least this is what he was telling himself in order not to breed you full.

But you blinked, you fucking innocently blinked pretending to be surprised, knowing how bad he wanted it and quickly slid your sticky hand out of your cunt and between your bodies to push him off and pull him out “but I can tho”.

In one swift motion and in a record time you took the condom off, tossed it somewhere on the floor and aligned his pulsing cock inside you again, painfully slowly sinking him in as you watched his face contort in pure ecstasy by the contact of your wet walls around him for the first time in months using protection.

Nothing could describe the way he felt about having you split open and raw underneath him, completely his to take. You put your arms around his neck, dragging him down to look him in the eyes again as you always liked to watch him when he reached his climax “now you can cum baby” your voice was merely a whisper, small but commanding “i will look so good with your cum dripping out later”.

And that was it. Something animalistic took over him and he started to move rougher, faster and more desperate than he ever had .

“Yeah?? You want to be full of my cum that bad??” His voice deep in the crook of your neck sending shivers through your whole body. Shit, you wanted to see his face!! but you were feeling so good at the way he thrusted into you, grinding his pelvis against your clit each time he went back inside, that you couldn’t be arsed complaining about it.

“Not enough with having me ballsdeep inside you that you also want to keep me there after I pull out??” He was testing the waters, trying to find out if he could say what he actually wanted to. But your loud moan at his words told him that he could carry on and so he did.

“You want me here?” you were far gone, dripping from your pussy to the bed and your skin burning, goosebumps all over and making the prettiest noises he had ever heard.

Never knew this would thrill him so much, but as his hand reached your belly, pressing down slightly and feeling himself moving in and out of you over your skin and going back to kiss you desperately he understood that no other raw pussy was ever gonna have him “you want me to get you pregnant tonight or what?”

Finally. He met your eyes just in time to see them roll back and flutter shut, your cry immediate “yes yes yes yes” you were begging, your cunt squeezing and sucking his cock in so hard it was getting difficult for him to slide out, seeing white ass stars as you came around him repeating his name since it was the only word you could remember.

The noises of your wet bodies crashing every time he thrusted inside you filling his ears and the warmth of your cum soaking his pelvis felt too good, “you drive me fucking insane” he growled and was now letting go, feeling you milk him dry and trembling in a pleasure he was sure he was going to get addicted to.

Cumming raw and inside after holding it in for so long only for you, he really wanted to see how your tummy grew big. “mingi…” he covered his nervous smile with your lips, still panting over your worn out body, never pulling out even after both of you came down from the shared orgasm.

Wait, “you are still hard??” you couldn’t believe it “give me another one babes, i know you can” there was nothing else in this world that had him in more bliss than your whole body response when you were cumming and he knew that nothing could ever compare to the way your walls hugged him perfectly, massaging his cock in ways nothing could do. He needed to feel it some more “you are having my kids no? we need to fill this up”. His words were going to turn you into burning ashes.

He started to move slowly again, the painful overstimulation not being enough to make him stop “but mingi I don’t think I can cum anymore” your eyebrows were beautifully frown and a tear was about to roll down your cheek when he suddenly flipped you over, you being still flush against his body but now on top of him. He fucking knew you loved being on top, completely able to adjust to his length and set your own pace. Watching him from above was one of your most personal moments.

You looked at him in disbelief, he was seriously going to play this game with you??? You straighten up, watching him dangerously challenging but still catching your breath. As soon as you leaned back and rolled your hips your thoughts about not being able to cum were already gone, his dick filling you up so good you couldn’t believe you ever said that.

You put one hand over his leg to balance yourself while grinding over his dick nice and slow “actually maybe I can…?” your other one gently reaching your belly and caressing it in a wide circle, your own touch giving you goosebumps, the gesture making him flinch at the thought of his cum inside you right where you were touching yourself, yours and his imagination going fucking wild.

He closed his eyes to savor each sensation you could pull out of him, hands running up your legs and landing on your hips to help you grind. But he really wanted to see you, so when he opened his eyes again you were still watching him, all the love you felt for him showing on your face and basically dancing on his lap, little moans escaping your mouth. His eyes on you were so raw and sincere it had you melting, a hot drop of your slick running down your boyfriends lap. How the fuck were you this lucky you didn’t know.

He was biting his bottom lip, all his feelings over the place. he loved you so much. And knowing you felt the same for him sometimes blew his mind “how am i so lucky?” you smiled at his words matching your exact thoughts, “look at me mingi, am I not lucky too?” he indeed looked at you, from your pretty face to your pretty hole sucking his cock, a husky moan leaving him.

He brought his hand to your pussy and split your lips open to watch how his cock disappeared inside you “fucking god…” he nearly came again at the sight of his release forming a ring around his base “I wish I could see this forever” and he could tell when you had a bright idea pop into your clever head, like right now.

You stopped for a second to reach out for your phone, your change of position making him pant and trying to hold you still. You popped the camera app on your screen and pressed record then offered it to him. Seriously, how was he so lucky? He was too horny to argue or question you so…

His eyes were fixed on the screen, watching you go back to moving gently on his dick but quickening your pace until you were sliding him out and bucking back in, jumping and moaning nonsenses. His dick felt so right inside you, so where it belonged to that you stopped thinking what you were saying, completely lovedrunk yourself.

“I love this dick” he groaned and struggled to keep the recording and it took everything in him to not throw the phone away and keep looking through the screen, “no one else is ever cumming inside me, I am all yours” you cried and threw your head back, letting out a high pitched moan as you sensed his free hand grip your hip tighter and buck up to meet your movements.

The hand where he was holding the phone completely trembling, the dirty feeling of this happening to him but also watching you getting fucked through anything that wasn’t his own eyes made it look like something nasty. And hell was he getting off to that shit, “mingi I am gonna…” “yeah, yeah please cum babychick, I am following”

Mingi had this rare gifted talent of making you cum as soon as he commanded, and so you did. The scream was loud from both parts, your pussy tightening harder than it ever had around him, not wanting him to ever leave that place “I am cumming inside again baby is that okay?” you couldn’t even manage to answer, your orgasm so hard it was lasting forever to go down, so you only nodded fervently as a yes.

All the edging and the overstimulation from earlier skyrocketing your sensitivity. It wasn’t easy for it to happen to you but it did this time and it was recorded forever for commemorative purposes; your pussy started to spray over everything reachable around you, all his torso drenched in your squirt, the camera lens soaked and the image blurry.

Fuck it, you didn’t need to save anything else. Mingi stopped the recording and tossed the phone somewhere over the bed, sat up straight to hug you while you were still crying out his name and started to thrust harsher from bellow.

You hugged him back, curling your legs around his waist to keep him as close as you could and started to kiss him desperately, no rhythm no attention, waiting for this rollercoaster climax to end. His movements were already unsteady due to his own incoming orgasm, calling your name and saying sweet praises into your mouth as the string finally snapped and he finished inside again, making your insides warm with his hot cum.

Once he calmed down he fell on his back over the bed, hugging you still over on top of him, totally worn out and suddenly cold after what you thought had been the best orgasm you’d had.

“shit” you sighed “it is so cold” mingi smiled, completely satisfied, “let me get a towel, I will clean this mess up” he reached down to get a sample of the said mess in his finger. You couldn’t help it and licked it without thinking, “baby… don’t go there again” he was being half serious, but his still inside cock twitched weakly. You laughed at him, “baby go get that towel, I am seriously cold”.

He slid out of you, leaving you to get the promised towel, both relieved and sad at the sudden emptiness in your cunt. But… wait, it is not that empty? Your cheeks burned beet red, remembering how you had been begging him to get you pregnant. How many kinks were you gonna collect with this guy?! Your hand moved by its own, trying to find its way to your slit.

As soon as you felt it in your fingers you couldn’t stop yourself, you were putting all the cum that dripped out back in, moaning quietly at the single thought of your belly full of him again.

“need any help with that?” you looked towards the door, he was leaning against its frame, towel in hand, his smile showing his front teeth that you loved so much. You had to smile back, “yeah?”

—

A/N: Hellooo haha this took me a while.

I know it was meant to be the continuation for Say it like you mean it, but it has been so long already (two whole years to be exact) that I found no joy in these characters anymore. And as much as I tried to start them over again (seriously I had like 9 drafts about them) it always ended up being just not too good. I really wanted to give them a hot and steamy (and really long wtf) chance with this one. I think my writing got better too (not posting at all but still writing), even if english is not my mother language and therefore I am a bit limited!

I would like to improve some more for the next one, which will also be set on mingi & the chick since i am biased and i kinda got attached to some of the topics I was writing about in Say it like you mean it. So for now we have this one, but possibly the next one will fiiiiinally be SILYMI part.2? When? Who knows, no one when it comes to me i am afraid.

Anyways! I hope you enjoyed. Comments are welcome ♡

#ateez hard hours #mingi #mingi fluff #mingi hard hours #song mingi smut #mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi hard thoughts #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez au #song mingi fluff #mingi au

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bejeweledinterludes · 2 days ago

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❝ are you in the mafia? ❞

❝ … am i in the what? ❞

「 pairing 」 : dean winchester x mafia ! reader

「 word count 」 : 1.3 k

「 content / warnings 」 : mob/mafia, incorrect mafia lore that i tweaked because i said it was okay to, canon-compliant violence, mentions of death, swearing

you have one ( 1 ) new message from the author ! ↓

HEYYY this was a request from @hpxmcusworld! i did end up making the reader gender neutral, i hope that’s okay— and that you enjoy, because this was really fun to write! thank you so so much for requesting and your kind words! <3

my masterlist

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this was so cool stupid.

that was the only thing going through dean winchester’s mind as he and sam knocked on the door of a very much too-big and not at all cool as shit house— because who in god’s name needed six garages with some fuckin’ awesome vintage cars? and a damn fountain in the driveway?

rich and pompous assholes.

that’s who.

“this ‘s so stupid,” dean echoes his half-thoughts out loud in a low mutter— throwing in an eyeroll before adjusting the tie of his fed threads.

sam squinted his eyes at his brother’s sheer reluctance to get through one single day without complaining— but before he could even say anything, a maid opened the door, looking between the both of them.

“can i help you gentlemen?” she asks, standing up a little straighter when she notices the suits.

“fbi, ma’am,” dean nods matter-of-factly as he flashes his badge, sam following suit. “need to speak to the owner of this house. it’s about the murder three days ago. it’s urgent.”

damn right, it was urgent. children were dropping like flies left and right in chicago— dying with no warning and decomposing almost immediately.

they needed answers.

so sam’s extensive research and cross-referencing police records had brought them to here— to the gigantic hand-carved wood front door of one of the families that currently ran the chicago mob.

(it also helped that one of the kids that died had been from this family, too— but sam enjoys click-clacking around on the computer.)

“oh, yes, of course,” the maid immediately recognized who they were talking about— why these definitely real fbi agents were here. “come in, please. i’ll notify of your presence.”

dean fights the urge to get excited roll his eyes.

again.

. • . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . 𖤐

“sorry to keep you waiting,” your voice rings out— one that sounded like you weren’t really sorry at all.

both dean and sam’s heads perk up to look at you, the supposed owner of the house entering what the maid called the ‘sitting room’.

which was actually pretty sick, because it totally felt like a mafia movie. you sat down in the matching lavish sofa across from them. you nodded once to the maid, who excused herself scurried off immediately. dean was reminded of a scene from goodfellas, one of his favorite movies that was similar.

which wasn’t cool at all.

“you look a little young to own a house this big,” dean bluntly remarks before thinking twice— and received a ‘dude’ look from sam.

they weren’t wrong. you appeared to be the same age as dean and sam, give or take a few years— and unmistakably attractive. though, you always thought the old architecture and style of the house made you look better.

“well, technically, it’s not exactly mine— yet,” you clarify, crossing a leg over the other as you eye the two men. “but it will be someday. i’m the next best thing right now. my father’s… handling business elsewhere.”

immediately you noticed the fact that they were not like any usual stick-up-the-ass dickwads that usually were oh so graciously in your presence— they seemed… pretty close to normal, actually.

“right,” sam interjects before dean could make some other comment that would end up with them back at square one. “anyways, we’re here because of—”

“my brother,” you interrupt sam, your eyes still flicking between them— and a slight smile on your face. “but, then again, you aren’t actually real agents, now are you?”

both dean and sam look at each other at that, a slight tremor of panic passing through each of them. dean speaks up this time—

“we—”

“are hunters,” you finish, titling your head a little as you look between them. “see, i do my research, too— or rather, my people do. you’re dean. that’s sam. you’re brothers, and you hunt monsters for a living.”

both dean and sam had whatever words they were going to say taken away from them when you dropped that bomb— they were used to having to tiptoe around that subject.

“well, it really is a good thing you’re here,” you continue without a beat, leaning back against the couch again, “i’m used to monsters being… y’know, people.”

dean and sam had finally relaxed a little after the initial shock wore off— and dean was starting to realize you weren’t what he expected. and maybe this wasn’t as stupid as he thought.

it was kinda like a godfather movie, if he was being honest.

and dean loved the godfather.

“you don’t seem like a complete…” dean trails off. in this line of work, it was rare to encounter someone with a good head on their shoulders, especially if they were filthy rich— but then again, he was glad he didn’t have to babysit.

“asshole?” you finish once again, raising your eyebrows, your smile ticking up higher. “yeah, it skips a generation. so, what’s the plan?”

“the plan?” sam echoes, both he and dean scoff a little, glancing between each other and you.

“yes, the plan,” you exaggerate the last word as sam did. “firstly, how many soldiers do you need?”

“soldiers?” both dean and sam echo you this time, their expressions mixed with shock and bewilderment.

“are you going to repeat everything i say?” you shake your head a little, uncrossing your legs and reaching to pour yourself a glass of whiskey with the crystal bottle. “yes, soldiers. i’m sure you’ve heard of la cosa nostra.”

oh, shit. la cosa nostra. dean’s heard the stories from the times he’s been through illinois— it was the ruthless mafia army composed soldiers from all 5 crime families that ran chicago. the mafia’s dean looked between you and his brother— and his eyes were a little less shocked. more… excited?

“you can— you have soldiers? that would help… us?” sam is the first to speak, considering dean was a little too… preoccupied about how cool this was actually was.

“well, they’ll do anything i say, so, yes,” you smoothly lean back against the couch again, re-crossing your legs. “they’ll be at your service, if you require it.”

“cool,” dean finally speaks, a slight smile turning on the corner of his mouth.

sam snaps his head to his brother, suppressing a slight eyeroll before talking to you again. “well, we don’t really know what we’re up against, but—”

“my resources will be yours,” you interrupt, placing your crystal glass of whiskey down. “anything you need, just ask.”

“really?” dean tilts his head, smile getting a little wider. “anything?”

“anything.” it was your turn to echo as you glance between them, talking a little quieter. “my brother didn’t… deserve to die the way he did. he was just a kid.”

“and we are sorry that happened,” sam attempts to revert the conversation back to the case, and not dean’s awestruck demeanor. “we can’t imagine.”

“we’re gonna figure out whatever this is, and make sure it never happens again,” dean snaps out of it for after a second— because he could imagine what it was like to lose a younger brother. he actually has before. “we’ll get the sonofabitch— y’know, make him swim with the fishes.”

that makes you smile— actually, genuinely smile. for the first time since your brother had died a week ago.

“i have no doubts,” you nod, uncrossing your legs once more, standing up and already starting deeper into the house as you talk. “now, let me show you the weapons hall. you boys might be able to use a couple things.”

“the weapons hall? dude,” dean almost jumps up from the couch, slapping sam on the shoulder— to which raises an eyebrow, shaking his head. the facade dean always put up when he was trying not to get excited was almost gone, if not completely. “c’mon, get movin’ sammy!”

okay, dean supposed, maybe working with the mafia would be cooler than he initially first thought. because this was kinda cool. you were kinda cool.

mostly the mafia part, though. not necessarily because he thought you were super awesome or anything.

at least, that’s what dean was telling himself.

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my master taglist (so far): @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @ambiguous-avery @maddie0101 @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @sunsbaby @emeraldcrs @h8aaz @honeyryewhiskey @supernotnatural2005 @cowboysandcigarettes @soldiersgirl @figthoughts @mostlymarvelgirl @amaris444 @kaz-2y5-spn @littlesoulshine @starzify @velvetparkerx @eggggggggggggggggggggsblog @fuckedupfate @liiiilsss @angelblqde + i missed anyone OR if you want to be added/taken off, please just comment / send an ask! <3

#faith’s works . . . @bejeweledinterludes!#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #mafia #mob #dean winchester #supernatural #spn

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lynzine · 1 day ago

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I got this comment on AO3 that I was extremely excited to answer, so much that I asked the commenter if I could share it on tumblr. (They said yes!) I took a screenshot of their comment but I’m copying and pasting my response because it’s too long to screenshot. 😅

(Reply) Hi! I totally have an answer for this! (I’m going to put aside the sperm and egg thing since that’s just buzzkill for the idea in general. But people bring it up.)

So here’s the thing about war, it does a lot. It displaces people, forces migrations, kills people, and also… creates opportunities both economic and social. What if the chaos from the war was the only way that Kanna was able to escape the North Pole? What if the North and South Pole had strong ties in the wake of a weakened Fire Nation and Pakku was able to follow Kanna to the South Pole? If Kanna never makes it to the South Pole or if Pakku were able to follow her and stop her marriage to her eventual husband? No Hakoda, no Sokka, no Katara. In Hakoda’s case, there’s so many people in the South Pole an entire city of them. MORE. Maybe there are CITIES. So what if he fell in love and got married before ever meeting Kya?

In Toph’s case, what if one of her ancestors were a humble iron merchant. And how fortunate for them, though sad for the world, that the war with the Fire Nation brought about a dire NEED for the iron they’d spent their life investing in to make weaponry to combat firebenders. That need allowed them to make a fortune. Enough wealth to allow a marriage between a humble merchant and a near noble Beifong. Or what if a political marriage between two Earth Kingdom families was never considered in favor of a marriage to a respected Fire Nation family instead? After all, if you want to do business with the Fire Nation, and why wouldn’t you, marriage is one of the tools you can use to expand into that area.

Then there is Suki. In her case I headcanon her ancestry as being largely refugees. Imagine for a moment, the Fire Nation never destroys a small coastal town leaving behind a survivor who runs to a larger town, a survivor who now lives out their life happily in the coastal town that they grew up in, never meeting the kind innkeeper who offered them a place to stay when they had nothing. Never marrying that innkeeper’s oldest kid. Never having to run again when that town, too, was eventually overrun by the Fire Nation. Even Suki’s potential parents, refugees who might have made it to Kyoshi Island separately and fallen in love there could have been from completely different parts of the Earth Kingdom, driven by desperation and a fear until they found a safe haven in Kyoshi island where they could fall in love. Thousands of things could have happened for Suki to end up on the island… and one ancestor happily living the life they always were supposed to… means no Suki. (Plus, unlike the others, it would be really hard to remember all those ancestors. Like Katara and Sokka have oral tradition and a small population so they would probably know. And Zuko, Toph, and Yue probably knew about genealogy because noble families are like that. But Suki? She probably knows her grandparents’ names. Maybe one or two of her great-grandparents… but enough to help Aang find ancestors scattered across the Earth Kingdom? …I just don’t think so…)

Now, some people headcanon Suki as a descendant of Kyoshi. It’s fun, I don’t really buy it because I think we’d hear about it, but it’s fun. And that still could work here because if just one of Suki’s ancestors, a grandparent or a father came from the mainland as a refugee… they would probably have very little information on them to go on, and Aang would have a hard time getting them to move to Kyoshi island even if he could find this “Grandpa Li” (yes, I used a common name to illustrate the difficulty).

REGARDLESS! Many people like to think she was born elsewhere and you are free to do that. [Not included in original comment, but I just remembered that there’s some good ideas about making that version of Suki recruited by an anti-Avatar group and giving her a Zuko type arc.] I actually prefer the possibility that a spirit, in an attempt to bribe or trick the Avatar yanks Suki from her dying timeline and taunts Aang with her, allowing Suki’s return to a very DIFFERENT world. And friends she knows and loves who are also very different.

Thanks so much for asking. I kind of love thinking about it. Hope my answer provided some context. Let me know if it was unclear in anyway (I did like half of it while I was walking) or if you have more questions!

The Avatar’s Hobby

Avatar Aang was widely considered the greatest Avatar in the past millennia. At just twelve years old he prevented the genocide of his people, stymied all out war between the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation, and somehow stripped the Fire Lord behind these attempted atrocities of his bending. He did not remove Sozin’s family from power, despite the corruption. He watched them carefully. He had a solid grasp of all of the elements before even meeting his teachers. Aang was dedicated to peace and the sanctity of life. There was just one eccentricity that gave people pause…

The matchmaking.

Admittedly, it took years for anyone to notice but over the decades it became clear that Avatar Aang was pushing certain couples together. Most notably in the Fire Nation, when he introduced Crown Prince Azulon to his future wife, Ilah; but it was happening all over the world. He helped a woman escape the Northern Water Tribe to the South and attended her wedding after insistently guiding her to a particular Tribe with a specific young man who stammered and blushed and happily yielded to her in every matter. He supplemented a young Earth Kingdom merchant’s income so he could buy a marriage to a noblewoman. He helped a pair of peasants elope. He encouraged romance between specific members of the Northern Water Tribe’s most respected families.

He happily, sometimes desperately, meddled with seemingly random families all over the world. It was strange, but it was just a quirk. If he wanted to matchmake between preserving world peace and protecting humanity from the Spirit World, it wasn’t like it was hurting anyone.

Crown Prince Iroh reconsidered this widely held belief when the Avatar quite insistently arranged a marriage between his younger brother and Lady Ursa, granddaughter of the previous Avatar, Roku. Iroh and Aang had always gotten along. Aang, already an old man at his birth, had taught him Pai Sho and taken him on trips around the world. He was almost like his uncle. While the kind old Avatar had tried to treat Ozai the same way, Iroh had always sensed profound wariness in the Avatar when dealing with his younger brother, a wariness he tried to mask with his usual cheer and jokes. So why was Avatar Aang so determined to ensure that Ozai would marry Lady Ursa?

A similar issue was plaguing Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe. No matter who he brought home, Avatar Aang seemed to disapprove. It was like his honorary uncle was looking for someone specific. If Aang had tried to push the young man to break up with someone Hakoda never would have acquiesced. But the old man just stared at him with his girlfriend so mournfully, as if he was going to begin sobbing, that Hakoda would eventually end the relationship.

The relief on the Avatar’s face always made him feel like he’d done the right thing.

The day that he introduced Aang to Kya and saw his face light up was the day Hakoda knew that he’d found the one. He’d found the woman that he was going to marry.

In the Earth Kingdom an assorted handful of merchants and nobles accepted the Avatar’s betrothal suggestions. It was good business to be favored by the Avatar.

Avatar Aang arrived the night before Lady Ursa went into labor. The old man was apparently more frantic than the rest of the family. Iroh made a dozen pots of tea in an attempt to calm the old airbender.

When an attendant emerged from the room Aang was the first on his feet. “Is he alright?” He demanded sharply. Iroh blinked and wondered how he knew the baby was a boy.

“Yes, he is. Quite healthy for a child born so close to midnight.” The woman answered, holding the new nobleborn at a professional distance from her. Aang stepped forward, and before any other member of the family had a chance, he took the baby into his arms. Iroh raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glace with his father. Both Fire Lord and Prince decided to say nothing of this curious breach of conduct and courtesy.

Aang trembled, clutching the tiny newborn blinking up at him with two whole golden eyes. “You’re here.” He whispered. “You’re really here…” The baby fussed as tears fell on his head. “I missed you so much, Zuko.”

The Avatar greeted the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe as well, directing her parents to the sacred oasis when she was born too early and without a sound. He even plead with the Moon Spirit himself to aid the child. The Princess woke with hair like the moon and a grateful Avatar gathering her into his arms.

Avatar Aang was seen mourning on Kyoshi Island. He went to the home of every new or expecting family before he donned the colors of grief and left the island teary eyed. Saying only that he’d lost her.

Avatar Aang was at the birth of both of Hakoda and Kya’s children. Somehow, more joyful than the parents themselves.

The Beifongs had not expected the baby to be blind. Avatar Aang assured them that she would be more powerful than any other person he had ever known.

Aang sat on edge of the Southern Air Temple, surrounded by children from every nation. Their parents might not like Aang’s impromptu field trips for them, but he couldn’t resist sometimes. Whether it was to train with badgermoles, to fly with dragons, to see new wonders, or simply to light candles for the only one he’d failed… the only one whose lineage he hadn’t known. Aang might be over a century old, but he would always need his friends. It had taken decades, but his family was as complete as it was going to be.

Zuko and Sokka argued over which of them was taller. Yue braided Katara’s hair. And Toph used earthbending to lift herself above them all, laughing manically as she did.

Sky bison passed, carrying young monks and nuns to new adventures. And even with the ever present ache of Suki’s loss… Aang was happy.

#The consequences of time travel #Now posted on AO3 #Why characters may or may not exist #Suki #fantasy genealogy #sort of #Reply #What ifs #what ifs that haunt Aang

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lexicorp · 3 days ago

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Transformers Earthspark: Another Place, Another Prison

scribbled da hek outta this doodle so idk what type of style it is but its cute anyway sdnsifbsnd

This chapter ended up being twice the length I thought it'd be, and is a whole lot of just Starscream and Hashtag talking about an assortment of things. There's a good bit of silliness, like the ridiculous strain of conversation surrounding nicknames (the Hashbrown thing I got in my head from @the-sheep and their lore. Which doesnt totally align with my characterization of Star admittedly, but with my brother having been the one to point out that Sprite [the nickname for spitfire] is also a soda brand, the dots were connecting XD). Then there's some actual serious talk as well, that has a bit of sus, because of course.

Previous Chapter: A Game Of Charades

First Chapter: The Need For Read

Next Chapter: Scientific Method

Chapter 17: Helm In The Cloud

These past quartexs had been…odd. To put it lightly.

The data cycling through Starscream’s processor was filled with strange, corrupted files that he couldn’t seem to access, aided by far too many painful memories to quantify. Although, in the past deca-cycle with the Maltos, he’d found himself remembering, or even creating, more pleasant events.

The Malto brats could actually be…rather endearing. Of course, Hashtag was always his favorite. Anyone who said they didn’t favor a particular individual within a group was flatly a liar, a tactic which he could of course appreciate; since he’d only admit his favoritism blatantly to Hashtag herself, after all. She had by far the best style of spunk about her, as she easily dealt out smooth bouts of sass paired with her equally patient and excitable nature. Her strong determination when decided upon a task, was admirable, even. Hashtag would have made a great Decepticon! Although he supposed that…wouldn’t be a compliment to her.

Even so, after their more recent moments of “hanging out”, Hashtag had begun to cease her guarded posture that she had carried so often before. Only seldomly would he glimpse her shielding her chestplate protectively in that strange way Twitch or the human brats occasionally did as well. But it had become easier to get her back in a better mood as she seemed more comfortable with his presence. Something about that fact made a long smothered flame flicker within Starscream’s tired spark.

He enjoyed seeing her happy, making her laugh, even at his own expense. Surely this foolish behavior was only to lull those fools into thinking him passive enough to grant him more freedom. He didn’t…he couldn’t care. It was far too risky to allow such a thing. Regardless, he still felt as if he owed Hashtag something, and wanted to be in her good graces. So many of the others here just fawned over Megatron. Was it too much to hope for his own fan for once? A feisty little student who would admire and stand by his side! He certainly didn’t need such a thing, but it would be…useful. Yes, that was the extent of it…

Hashtag was always quite the helpful young femme, even when some of her ill Earth gotten mannerisms or quips could be confusing. At least with that “Chess” game, it was just similar enough to Fullstasis that for a moment he felt even minutely connected to Cybertron again from all these lightyears away. Perhaps he could attempt to use that Chess to recreate Fullstasis so that he could share the superior game with her! Starscream could simply rotate the square-ish board on its side to be the correct diamond orientation, and modify the Chess pieces to reflect their counterparts. A “bishop” was nearly identical to a quarg in how it moved. Similarly with a vig to a “rook”. Although she might be disappointed that the King’s counterpart had far more offensive capabilities, while the Queen’s was defensive. Sure, one could skew their strategy either way, but that was typically the more popular approach. Even if Skyfire had often only buried his Pvaq in the corner while using the Staiv as a living shield leading the wall of mykns; which he’d always defend stubbornly when Starscream had teased him for it. Those matches had always carried on for groons of a painfully slow back and forth with both of them insisting the other conceded. That ridiculous shuttle had been more content with a stalemate than subjecting himself to yet another loss at Starscream’s blatantly superior tactical prowess. Perhaps Starscream should have relented more victories to him as he’d done Hashtag…

That doesn’t matter now.

Now, he had been given the task of collecting those fruits spawned from the stalky perennials plainly labeled “Apple Trees”, stationed around the perimeter of the cow containment field. Initially, he had assumed the pristine condition of those apples he gathered was irrelevant as long as they weren’t a crushed mess upon the ground. Yet apparently, as he was later corrected, it was important to examine them with more scrutiny to determine whether there were any pests infecting them, or blemishes that would need to be severed at a later date. The defective fruit was set to go to their lower class animals, while they kept the better portion for themselves. That ungrateful cow shouldn’t have made such a fuss when he’d attempted to liberate it. Then maybe that blasted bug wouldn’t have noticed, and it could have foraged its own, high quality fuel, instead of settling for scraps.

Regardless, the squishy, oddly shaped fruits were strange to imagine as a means of fueling the humans’ fleshy frames. Skyfire never liked the idea of dissection, with how squeamish the soft-sparked mech was, although Starscream couldn’t help but be a byte curious of their internal functions. Yet the memory of those G.H.O.S.T parasites, and their similar interest towards Cybertronians, made that train of interest falter. At least, until a violet spark flickered with the revelation at what glorious revenge it would be if he could get his servos on one of those wretched humans to take them apart as well.

Starscream chuckled darkly at the thought, with a fleeting image of those disgusting human organs arranged across a steel table.

Then, Hashtag’s voice cut through his ruminations. “Whatcha thinkin’ about there Spaceman?”

Starscream’s optical ridge furrowed as a look of disgust came to his faceplace that he couldn’t shield from entering his vocalizer. “What did you just call me?”

“What, Spaceman? It’s perfect right?” She strained to reach one of the apples on a hidden branch and flipped it into a crate. “I’ve been tryna think about more nicknames for you than just Screamer. Starship’s a fun one, but not goofy enough. I mean, sure I could also just go with Star as a different shortened version like how my siblings call me Tag, buuuut Spaceman is just funnier. You should've seen the look on your face!”

Starscream rolled his optics and scoffed with a grin. “If we are tossing around such absurdities, perhaps I should title you Hashslag.”

“Yoooo that sounds like a fire wrestler name!!”

“No it–”

Hashtag began making ridiculous poses as if flexing her physical prowess. “Hashslag comes into the ring and DEMOLISHES the competition! The undisputed champion that’ll uh–” She paused a moment to search their internet for assistance in her speech– “throw melted slag chairs at her enemies!!”

“You are quite proficient at twisting things to your advantage, aren’t you?” Even if Starscream had meant it as a minor jab in retaliation to her stupid Spaceman mockery–she had immediately translated it towards describing what she’d inflict upon her enemies, as opposed to a reflection of her capabilities. Decepticon material indeed.

Hashtag’s grin widened, “Of course! ‘Cause I’m awesome! And that could be a great stage name! Maybe I’ll even use it as my gamer tag actually–”

Now that was too much. If she confidently proclaimed such a stupid title to the world, she’d be far too susceptible to the petty scorn of her opponents.

“You are NOT identifying yourself as Hashslag.” Starscream ordered with crossed arms and a stern glare. “Your designation in such an environment should command respect, and THAT would be just as easily skewed against your character.”

“How?”

He put a servo to his faceplate in exasperation for her naivety. “Slag refers to the waste matter produced when refining or smelting ore. I am sure you found the definition with your abilities, but it is a commonly derogatory term when directed towards someone. In many ways. If you are a slagger, then you are an extremely low member of society and considered inept. If you call someone a lump of slag, it is comparing them to something useless. Sure, it can be used threateningly when proclaiming you will annihilate them so completely that only slag will remain; but pairing it with a portion of your designation will only allow those around you an easy pathway towards mockery. You cannot believe I was serious about such a title as that. It was clearly a joke. No one would take you seriously with that name.”

Hashtag put her servos up and allowed them to then fall heavily in frustration. “Okay okay! I get it. You were trying to be mean and whatever–”

“Wait- no, I wasn't– ugh scrap…”

Suddenly her expression turned to a mischievous smirk as she turned back to gathering more apples with a laugh. “Nah I know you were just being a goofball. But I gotta admit I’m a bit jealous. How come Spitfire gets such a cute nickname and I don’t? I might even be a bit offended!” She paired her last statement with an overly dramatic tone and servo to her chestplate that could have been mimicking his own manner of mock hurt.

“What, Sprite? That is only a title referencing her small stature paired with her typically sassy nature.”

“Aww, not that she’s sweet like the popular soda brand?” She snickered, “I guess that tracks. She’s actually way rude.”

Starscream scoffed as he attempted to focus on the ridiculous apple gathering task again, “Yes, that would hardly be fitting. What even is this “soda brand” you speak of?”

Hashtag whipped out her datapad and trotted up to him with a sparkle in her optics, apparently finding amusement in the topic. “It’s this carbonated sugar water with mysterious “natural flavors” and citric acid made by the big wig Coca Cola company!” She pulled up a string of images displaying an array of bottles and cans detailing a green logo with the Sprite title. Then changed her keywords in the search bar to procure images placing the strange beverage alongside other odd products. “It’s sold everywhere! Like in stores, which we aren’t allowed in–or fast food!! We can go through drive-thrus with Mo and Robby on the way back from school sometimes to get stuff! Wacky D’s is their favorite.”

Starscream leaned closer while squinting his optics in an attempt to acquire a better view of the ridiculous stream of advertisements for disgusting human fuelling varieties. He took the datapad from her to scroll through the panels of information himself, which she again seemed to find humorous for whatever reason as he hummed in thought. After a couple kliks of analysis, he came upon an image displaying a “breakfast deal duo” which showed that Sprite thing, as well as its orange and red mirrored counterpart titled “Fanta” that made him think of Twitch. But even more hilariously, was the particular item between them that was referred to as a “Hashbrown”. It was indeed brown, and frankly looked horrid. He had no idea why anyone would put it in their intake–but the fact that it shared the same prefix as Hashtag was too perfect to pass up. If she wanted a nickname tied to Sprite’s, she could get one comically linked to her foolish misinterpretation.

He passed the datapad back into her servos and pointed at the items with a smirk. “If THAT atrocity is Sprite, then I suppose you would be this hashbrown slag.” Starscream’s wings fluttered in amusement at the absurdity as he turned to move aside one full crate of apples for an empty one to take its place.

Hashtag paused a moment before looking his way with squinted optics of her own skeptically. “While Hashbrown sounds adorable–why do I get the feeling that it isn’t actually that wholesome coming from you?”

Starscream chuckled at the sight of her silly little scrunched faceplate. “Perhaps not. It isn’t nearly as reprehensible as Hashslag, yet I fail to see why humans would even want to purchase those disgusting products. Therefore I'd certainly say Hashbrown is ridiculous enough that it just might stick if you insist upon calling me Spaceman.”

Hashtag tossed an already bruised apple at him, which he easily blocked with a raise of his arm, as she too began to crack up about the prospect. “Oh yeah! What about I call you Starry instead? Or would that be too cutesy for Mr. Tough Bot?”

“Ugh, pass.” Starscream waved a servo as if dusting the horrid alternative from an imaginary shelf. “In all practicality, if you truly must decide upon some means of a secondary designation for me, then I may allow you to simply call me Star. That is “what my friends call me”, you could say.” More accurately, what Skyfire had called him. “It is more customary to select a shortened version of your companions true designation. Like how you are more commonly called Tag by your siblings. As you had previously stated yourself. Or referring to Bumblebee as Bee, and Elita-1 as simply Elita.”

Hashtag tilted her helm slightly in thought as she struggled to decide which crate the apple she picked belonged in. “Hmm… alright fine. I guess that works.”

Scrap. Now she seemed bored, or even a bit disappointed.

“Although…” Starscream drawled as he tried to think of what in particular she could be looking for, since this apparently held more meaning to her than he’d initially thought. “If I were to bestow you with a more…creative, alternative to your designation–I suppose I could call you Amethyst. Most obviously because of your violet paint resembling the quartz’s hue, but also because it can be a symbol of beauty in impurities. Because of course, the fact that it gets its color from the presence of iron ions within its structure, that would then oxidize when exposed to radiation. Thus it is a rather inspirational gem, and could be worn to ward off negative energy. Such a thing that was far more popular in Caminus, but still quite interesting from a scientific perspective when studying the geology of varying celestial constructs regardless.”

Hashtag grinned as her spunk returned, “Man, I never would have expected you’d be a rock nerd–Wait! Let me figure out what gem you’d be!” Her optics went white as streams of color coded data flowed across them, until an image appeared on her visor that she then transferred to her datapad. “Found one! Some Pietersite can be red and blue like you! This one looks really cool with a gold streak too–And! Apparently it's considered a tempest stone, and a protective talisman that’d cleanse negative energies and emotional turmoil! Actually, maybe you could use some of that, huh?” She smirked and nudged him playfully with her elbow before continuing to poke his shoulder plating with her digits. “Right? You totally need some gem action to get those warm and fuzzies past your bad boy exterior. And you could call yourself the Tempest Protector! That would SO be your awesome wizard name if you played D&D with us.”

“Hm.” Starscream lightly waved her insistent digits off of him before tipping a servo in consideration of the prospect. “I suppose Pietersite could be marginally appropriate. Although I’ve always thought of myself as more of a Carnelian–but what is this “D&D” you speak of?”

“Ooooooooh I’m SO glad you asked!” She was suddenly practically vibrating at the anticipation as she searched something else on her datapad, and motioned for him to take a seat under the trees with her. “I have to show you all my favorite youtube channels and podcasts and–Oh my gosh there’s just so many awesome things about it! I am of course the designated DM when we play, since I’m a master of storytelling! But I’m getting ahead of myself–first, I can introduce you to the classes by bingeing A Crap Guide to D&D! Because it’s hilarious and carries ALL the vibes. THEN I can show you SoOkayHerestheThing shorts, and Legends of Avantris, and Tales from the Stinky Dragon, and The Chaos Protocol, and–”

She went on and on for so long that Starscream almost began to regret asking. Almost. As even through the copious amounts of scrap being dumped his way, and how easy it could be to tune out, he’d admit it was actually rather interesting. Even the humor was occasionally comprehensible, and he was once again reminded of how similar Hashtag could be to Thundercracker.

She showed him countless videos about the extensive background and absurdities rampant in this “Dungeons and Dragons”. In a way, it reminded him of when TC would construct an elaborate script and extravagant scenes, only for Starscream and Warp to interject their own additions and deviations. It was ironic thinking of the role a Dungeon Master was supposed to hold as the realm’s god, while the surrounding players could so easily meld, meddle, and masacre their power with complex combinations or inane side quests. Although he supposed if Hashtag was the DM, he would need to dial back such schemes. In fact, if any of the others even dared to derail the objective of her creation he would eldritch blast them into submission! Now if it were Bumblebee…it was far too amusing to tick that bug’s gears to not toy with him a little. Alas, Hashtag said he wasn’t a fan of the game when he’d given it a single shot upon their insistence. Starscream would have to drag that coward into it the next time he could, so he’d at least have one player he could shamelessly terrorize amongst a party of sparklings.

Hashtag’s presentation this time had far exceeded the one about that Hatsune Miku character. Nearing the end, Starscream still felt the urge to acquire one of these rule books himself for all those intricate calculations that she simply couldn’t properly appreciate with how her processor was wired. Not in some attempt to fall into the position of a Dungeon Master himself…as previously stated, it seemed DM’s were far too easily overruled. Although perhaps he could call that a skill issue on the part of others. Starscream could surely do better. He’d rule the world of his magistery with a script so perfect that there simply wouldn’t be any possibility of petty posterings of improvement; or any chance of challenging his direction with whatever absurd bardic tricks notoriously plagued the community!

Starscream had begun doing a bit of research on his own after Hashtag offered her datapad to him again. While she accessed her own content remotely, and occasionally shared other random recordings she came across. There were far too many depicting Earth dogs.

Eventually, he noticed she had seemed to be sending messages to her”fam”, as she’d done during their Chess games. Then, Hashtag flicked the silent conversation away to turn to him with a more serious tone about her. That was…unnerving. Surely they wouldn’t try to use her against him somehow. She was obviously just utilizing some sort of dramatic build up for something inconsequential. It was fine. What could she possibly be gearing to ask him that could really require this much apprehension?

“Soo…” Hashtag lingered on the word as Starscream kept his optics trained on the datapad. “Since we’re uh, y’know, chill, and stuff right now. YOU seem pretty chill, right? Yeah–So I uh, I’ve been wanting to ask about…some stuff. Like maybe your reasons for the insane junk you did for and with the corrupted Emberstone, oooorr…what exactly is up with the chaos glitches you’ve had since. I feel like those are some pretty big things we should talk about. Especially when one of those problems is very much ongoing haha…” She chuckled nervously as she fiddled with her servos.

Ah. This again. Questions around his interaction with the fragmented stone had of course come up with Megatron and Bumblebee, but this seemed a byte different. Starscream wasn’t entirely certain in what way. Maybe it was only because of who it was this time. When the topic had come up with Hashtag previously, it was less about questions and more about venting her frustration. So what sort of explanation would she be looking for? He could go into great detail of his brilliant scheme for New Cybertron and its tragic outcome–but he wasn’t about to roll that dice on how well that would be received after last time. Then she also wanted information regarding his…glitches. That was certainly far too complicated. Especially when he wasn’t even truly sure of the details himself.

Starscream tapped his digit against the datapad a moment before lowering it to glance Hashtag’s direction with a practiced grin and straightening of his wings. “Now why should that be important? We were having a bit of fun, weren’t we? Why spoil that with a topic that is obviously causing you distress by even proposing it?” He offered her datapad back into her restless servos. “Dwelling on such things is silly, don’t you think?”

Hashtag hesitantly took back the tablet, and he hated that her bubbly demeanor was being tainted by her ridiculous insistence on committing to this course of conversation. “No. Star. It’s not.” She said firmly with a stubborn fire in her optics where, for a moment, he saw Skyfire in her place. Even the poorly concealed hurt in her vocalizer that could have only been placed there in an effort to manipulate him into cracking some sort of confession. “I just need some part of this to make sense. In stories, whether professional or a passion project with friends, things always have some sort of reason for why they happen. Even if it seems silly, or excessive, there’s always an explanation, and they’re supposed to end with a satisfying conclusion. But it’s not like YOU have a character sheet for me to reference when you do weird scrap! So I-I guess– I dunno I just wanna know what’s really going on here. That I AM making the right choice by giving you a chance. ‘Cause I still feel like we have a bit of that stuff around…lack of control…in common. But I don’t want to have to keep feeling bad about liking hanging out with you.”

“Well of course you like hanging out with me,” Starscream boasted with a servo to his chassis, “I’m an absolute delight to be around!”

She laughed, but it was dim, and her posture was again far too guarded. “Stop trying to dodge the question, Spaceman.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Hashbrown.” He smirked at her with a spun lilt to the ridiculous name that he hoped would bring that light back into her optics.

Yet she only rolled them with a grin, “Pff. Sure. C’mon. I’m not dumb–”

“I never said you were.” He hurriedly assured her. “Far from it! You are the brightest amongst your siblings in fact! Did I mention that you’re my favorite–”

“Stop-stop–” Hashtag interjected while standing and waving her servos. “Please just at least tell me about what the Corrupted Emberstone did to you. We have to trust each other. Whatever is going on seems really dangerous, and we can’t just act like it’s fine, or like, normal crazy. Y’know? It almost made you shoot my head off, Star. I know that couldn’t have been you! I have to know that wasn’t you…”

“It wasn’t! It–”

Crimson crashed his optics as static blazed across his processor. And he couldn’t remember. What was the name of that blasted creature he’d been aiming for?

Then, Starscream’s wings twitched stiffly in tandem with the smooth strings of lightning he could faintly feel flitting across them. A servo that he’d apparently lifted to his burning optic, slipped from his faceplate as he slowly stood and placed it behind him instead. Then, words were pulled from his voice box before he could even think to ask Hashtag to reiterate her question.

“It was just as you said, little Terran. A glitch. That inverted Emberstone left a sort of echo that was only further ingrained while I was stuck inside that Titan. The chaotic force it possessed was simply not compatible with my systems, even if it sustained me through the lack of Energon available in isolation. Just like how Energon itself interacts with a human. Sure, it can give incredible surges of energy and empower certain…upgrades, but it is also quite damaging in the long term. It’s an inconvenience, but nothing particularly serious, I assure you.”

Something about that wasn’t right.

There was a pause for far too long as he felt sick.

Starscream could barely hear Hashtag’s response over the static.

“...I’m not sure I believe you. Your optics aren’t...Are you having one of the glitch episodes right now?”

“Only a minor one. And you can have full confidence that I spoke nothing but the truth. I would never lie to my favorite Terran.” Starscream’s vocalizer danced across the final statement in a way that felt as if he were mocking himself, while placing a servo to her shoulder. It was laughable he could have any amount of fondness for her.

Lightning shot to the servo connecting with her frame as his digits clenched against her plating, and she pushed away. “You’re being REALLY creepy right now!”

Everything went black. If only for a nano-klick, that felt like groons. Weightless, with that familiar pressure. But he couldn’t think straight.

Suddenly he was torn from wherever he’d been, and thrown back into place. Just before the correct optics came online in his helm, he heard a collection of rattling voices all at once. Although they were more of a feeling than words.

Don’t mess this up.

Starscream stumbled and attempted to use the tree in place of his faulty stabilizers, but it cracked, and fell with him. His optics recalibrated rapidly to the light. While he blanked lied on the grass. Trying to remember where he was.

“Euuuhgh…” He squinted to crispin the violet silhouette hovering over him. Then slowly sat up and tried to give her a grin, and chuckled in a way that probably wasn’t all that reassuring. “Sorry about the…tree there, Amethyst. I…slipped. Remind me…what were we talking about?”

Hashtag’s faceplate scrunched as she hesitated, then swiftly stomped over to inspect his optics. Odd. Then she sighed heavily as she slumped to the ground beside him. “Now I’m MORE confused.”

“About…?”

She dug her helm into her knees and groaned, “What about our conversation do you remember?”

That was a strange question.

“We discussed alternative designations, and quite a lot about that D&D that we definitely decided we were going to play instead of that other ridiculous excuse for a “game night”. Then you decided to ruin our fun by bringing up Emberstone drama. Right? And something about the fun repercussions I’ve been experiencing, that somehow gifted you with guilt on the matter, I suppose. Which is ridiculous by the way.” His files started to get corrupted again after she’d mentioned his near miss while trying to blast that abomination’s smug faceplate. Hashtag still had a cringed expression. Had he gotten it wrong? His memory couldn’t be the problem here, so what was? The aching in his helm didn’t help with any of this.

“Yeah…and you were uh…telling me what sorta stuff goes on during your glitches. Like…do you see anything when your eyes go all red?”

He couldn’t admit to that. They already kept thinking he was insane. Besides, he knew those things weren’t real, so it didn’t matter.

“No! No…Wait, do you mean as in hallucinations or just visual distortion?”

“Both…?”

“Well I can see just fine.” Starscream stood and attempted to salvage what apples he could from the downed tree to perhaps draw her attention to the more present predicament. “It’s nothing I can’t handle! You didn’t actually get hurt regarding that fleeting instance the other night, right? These glitches, as you call them, pass quickly enough.”

“But it’s–Oh my gosh…” Hashtag ran her servo down her faceplate. “I guess if you really want to insist on it not being a big deal, I’ll drop it, FOR NOW.” She pointed a digit at him after having stood up to pace. “You NEED to get better at telling us stuff though! It doesn’t help anyone hiding things, even if it’s hard to talk about. Plus I…it’s not just about you, Star. I hate having to be on edge around you all the time. I want to be able to really trust you after everything. But when you do creepy stuff like whatever THAT was that you APPARENTLY just forgot in 60 seconds, or don’t want to tell me what’s going on, or don’t give me any amount of context for why you’re being weird–I’m left to think the worst of it! This isn’t easy for me…and I’m tired of any time we ARE having fun together being tainted by everything else. I know that you can be a softy and a great teacher. But I also know that you’re still a scheming Decepticon, that I can never tell if whatever plot you have is for a good, or bad surprise. I thought I understood what was going on in your head before, but after what all went down with the corrupted Emberstone…I don’t know how much I can trust myself on that anymore. So all I’m asking from you, is a bit of proof that you aren’t trying to hide something to hurt my family that you’d just claim is fine because the laser gun wasn’t actually aimed directly at me.”

Starscream allowed the last apple to fall into the crate before he rested his servo on its edge. That was…a lot, and he was certainly not an expert at navigating all these intricate emotions these kids seemed to learn from the Autobots. He was supposed to find some way to relate to her struggle to receive it in the correct way, according to Bumblebee. The only primary connection he could make was her concern regarding stressing over the worst outcome. But then what could he say to mitigate the situation? Only stating that he wasn’t planning anything against them, would likely be unbelievable and unsatisfactory. He’d had plenty of ruminations against her annoying collective countless times after all; although in significantly less quantity or severity in recent times. Then, he wasn’t certain he trusted himself on such things either. So if HE wasn’t confident in his own intentions, how was he supposed to convince her?! This was impossible…

Then again, one thing he could assure her of was in fact regarding the glitches. He wasn’t hiding the intricacies of its effects for some sort of sinister purpose. It was far more out of concern that they’d perceive him in an even lower sight at the information. He didn’t want to take that risk…especially with Hashtag. Yet it seemed he was doomed either way.

Starscream in-vented heavily as his wings fell to spite him through the anxious knot in his tank. “Alright, I get that I’m not exactly the most trustworthy mech around, but I…I’ve actually started to appreciate this opportunity. A little bit. It can still be extremely aggravating and I will admit I’ve fantasized about blowing up the place on multiple occasions–But! I wouldn’t actually do that! Anymore…” He chuckled and attempted to get himself back on track before it derailed any further. “Regardless, I promise that I’m not hiding anything of that nature. I’ve only ever used the apparent offensive capabilities of the curse for…retaliatory means.”

Hashtag crossed her arms. “Like against something you totally weren’t hallucinating the other day?”

“Yeeesss…about that…” Starscream tapped his digits together as he struggled to find the correct phrasing. “I keep having odd visions of…” Why couldn’t he get his vocalizer to work out Meridian’s blasted designation? “That human from before who stole the Emberstone for his mass murder machine. He is an extremely annoying little pest, as I am sure you can imagine. Paired with the curse’s occasional enhancement of my more violent impulses, is not exactly favorable. And as you’ve already figured out, I had been attempting to fire upon that stupid spector my processor has been projecting in an increased intensity since my exit from the Titan–or–Terratronus’ helm. I’ve gotten better at ignoring him, but sometimes it’s…difficult.”

“So you DO see things? Is…” Hashtag paused for a moment as if scrapping a lingering thought. “Are you talking about Mandroid?”

A short spazz of the lightning shot through Starscream’s frame, but he ignored it and snapped his digits together before pointing one in her direction. “Yes! The most infuriating aspect of him constantly plaguing me is the fact that I can’t incinerate him on sight. Then I will also admit that the lapses in memory aren't new. This blasted curse has left many of my files corrupted somehow. Even so, it is not as if these things have left me dysfunctional. I can still operate just fine. Besides, any attempt I’ve made to explain it has…” Another flit of electricity flocked to his frustration at the ordeal. “Would I really be that much of a coward if I said that I just didn’t want to deal with it?! You all already think me some sort of lunatic! Forgive me if I assumed an admission of my apparent insanity wouldn’t be beneficial to my chances of proving otherwise!”

Hashtag’s optics were wide, but her posture was looser. “Yeah…I guess that makes sense…” Then she approached him to put a servo to his arm for some reason as she looked at his own servo, which she’d slowly pulled down from its aerial position. “Thank you for telling me, and I don’t blame you for wanting to ignore that stuff. I know how horrible it is to have Mandroid in your head.” She looked up into his optics in a way that once again made him see Skyfire for a fraction of a nano-klick. “And this sounds way too much like when the creep was all up in my circuits with his dumb device before, but with like, a different level of jank. You have to ask Wheeljack, or Optimus, or–I dunno! Just-this seems more serious than just normal hallucinations if your files are getting corrupted. Plus what happened earlier was…We really need to figure out what’s going on with this. I don’t want it to make you do something worse…”

He hadn’t thought of that. It wasn’t as if it could control him to that extent. Could it? Well it wasn’t as if he could remember the data needed to answer that question.

A small scoff escaped Starscream’s intake as he drifted away from Hashtag’s grip, which she held as long as he could, like his frame would destabilize as soon as she let go. “I doubt they could be of any help on the matter. Wheeljack has already done plenty rooting around in my circuits, and has already stated his inexperience with processor damage. That Prime can only claim to be an expert on his Matrix of Leadership slag. What befell the Emberstone was an unprecedented catastrophe that would require far more research to decode the extent of its warped nature. And I am not particularly keen on being a test subject for such things…”

Hashtag wrapped her arms around her chassis again, which made his spark ache in that odd way it seldom did. “Could you at least give it a shot…? I am still going to let the others know what you told me, and it’d be better to try something than nothing. I can come with you, if you’re scared of medical exam stuff or something.”

“Please. Me, afraid of something as silly as that?” Starscream laughed and attempted to brighten the mood as he stacked her crates along with his for easier transportation. “Don’t be ridiculous. If it will ease your silly concerns, I’ll do it. Even if the idea of being crammed into that blasted trailer again for the trip is sure to remind me how much I miss my missiles again.”

Hashtag’s smile returned as she relaxed a little, and followed him to pick up a pair of crates to bring to the barn. “Pff, alright, I’ll talk to Bee about it. I’m sure it won’t be that bad. And you never know, maybe since we’ll actually have a bit of an idea of what we’re checking for, we could get at least a little bit of a better idea of how to go about dealing with it.”

“Don’t get your hopes up there, Amethyst.”

“Oh I’ll send you all the good vibes I want, Pietersite. I’m that inspiration gem after all!”

“Hah, I suppose you’re right.”

They soon moved on from the topic as they met up with the rest of the Maltos, who’d completed their own little portion of the chores. Although he later noticed Tag pulled Bumblebee aside to discuss it, he could worry about what that whole ordeal would entail when it came to it. As long as he didn’t have to run into Megatron for such a thing, he didn’t care. To make sure of that, he made certain to inform Dorothy of the situation as well. Since the human had wanted to extend her mediator standing after all.

These odd occurrences surrounding Quintus’ curse could be sorted out in no time! It wasn’t as if the Emberstone even existed anymore, anyway, and what remained of its original power was now within those cyber sleeves held by Tag’s human siblings. Such an effect as he’s found himself with, was likely only some form of ailment caused by his exposure to the rampant power lingering inside the Titan for all that time. It’d surely lull into obscurity with time.

Although perhaps, now he too was getting too hopeful.

#transformers earthspark #transformers #tfe fanfic #tf fanfic #headcannons #tfe starscream #hashtag malto #dr meridian #possession #glitchy memory junk #they totally know whats going on #wacky D's aka wack danolds aka mac dinalds aka-#i made myself laugh way too many times writing this ngl #projection where #i've never projected on the blorbos in my life #I have too many fragging projects #aid is so required chat

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kneelbeforeclefairy · 1 day ago

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I finished sotr. I loved everything except the epilogue. I get haymitch will never stop loving Lenore Dove....but I was hoping that one day he'd love again. No need to do that "geese mate for life" thing.

Also, I've had to change my headcanon for Effie's name. I think like 99 percent of the fandom said her name was Euphemia, but with the sister Proserpina, I've decided it is Persephone. Matching names, the Greek and Roman versions of the same goddess! And it's a little TOO fitting to have Effie named after the goddess of springtime/death.

I also LOVE that we've finally confirmed that Haymitch and Effie DO like each other, have known each other a LONG FUCKING TIME and that....even if Hayffie didn't go canon and in fact kind of got confirmed as non canon, there confirmation that she has a place in his heart and she's always cared for him. I also love that the text seems to back up my interpretation of her. She's swallowed the Hunger Games propaganda about this being For Peace and For The Greater Good a little TOO WELL. everyone else seems to see the games as just a punishment and understand that the district people aren't really PEOPLE and we don't BELIEVE that shit. Effie doesn't. She thinks they should be treated with some respect, befitting the Great Sacrifice They're Making For Panem. And of course there's never any reason to be CRUEL I think she's behind at least some of the nicer treatment they get by Katniss' time.

I'd like to think she deconstructs some of her thinking by the 75th, and certainly after the war.

Also @bestnoncannonship and I totally called she's older than Haymitch! We gave her about three years on him, but looks like it's more like 6-7. But yes, older Effie rights!

#sunrise on the reaping #sunrise on the reaping spoilers #sotr spoilers #effie trinket #hayffie

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halliejaade · 2 days ago

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Edelweiss (Chapter 8)

Five Months Later

What they’d done to you; it was downright evil.

Forcing something that was quite literally a part of you into a state of dormancy, it was unfathomable. Taking your memories, altering them…

You still couldn’t understand why your parents went along with it. A part of you was too afraid to bring it up, too afraid that their answers would cause further damage.

It took months for you to get acclimated to having this presence within you again. You didn’t speak a word of it to anyone, not even Joaquín. You were still trying to navigate understanding the situation, trying to come to terms with the fact that somehow, you’d been born with this ability.

Fear didn’t adequately describe what you felt when you thought about what had happened with Grace that time she’d touched your arm. It hadn’t happened again, but you were fearful of what might happen if you went to adjust one of your students' posture during class and did the same thing to them.

Your power reassured you that it had been an accident, and that it had only happened because it had come back from that dormant state. Not only were your senses extremely heightened, you could apparently take away other people's senses in order to further heighten yours.

Eventually, your headaches began to dissipate. Slowly but surely, memories came flooding back in. Although, you still didn’t have all the answers.

Grayburn College didn’t offer much help. They couldn’t just give you records, as it turned out. And any other research you attempted was fruitless. It was as though the world was wiped clean of the man named Samuel Sterns. He had existed, but where he was now was a complete and total mystery.

You had the puzzle pieces. You just hadn’t quite figured out how to make them fit together.

The thought of talking to anyone about this made you feel ill. If your parents hid it from you, if the doctor had gone out of his way to produce pills that took your power away; well, it only meant that you couldn’t trust anyone.

But you knew that you had to tell Joaquín eventually. He was the one person you knew you could rely on. You knew he’d keep his mouth shut about it, that he would never do anything to hurt you.

The tea pot squealing knocks you from your thoughts.

You pour the hot water into a mug, before placing a tea bag in.

Too hot.

It was sometimes convenient to have this power, but oftentimes, it wasn’t. Like now, when you just wanted to enjoy a cup of tea, that thing won’t shut its mouth.

You take a sip, nearly dropping the cup as the scalding water comes into contact with your tongue.

You should have listened to me, Child.

“First of all, I am not a child. Secondly, shut up. I’m sick of you.”

Your power refused to refer to you as anything else but ‘Child’. You weren’t sure why, and had tried to ask it, but its response was flighty and somewhat like trying to decode a riddle.

Something about how it is an ancient being, and had been passed down for generations.

What a bother.

I think you need to tell Joaquín. It’s not healthy for you to keep this to yourself. Your heart rate has been all over the place with how anxious you’ve been-

You roll your eyes.

Don’t roll your eyes, Child. I’m serious.

As much as you hated to admit it, maybe the damn thing was right. You go for your phone, and click on Joaquín's contact.

It makes you long for the days when you could look through your bedroom window and have him right there, across the way. All you had to do was flick those bedroom lights and he’d be over. Now, he was always across the world, or on some dangerous mission. You hated it, hated that he was always putting his life on the line.

You imagined him in that Falcon suit, fighting crime and saving people.

It terrified you, but it made you love him even more deeply than you thought was possible.

He answers within the first couple rings.

“Hey!”

His voice is gravelly, like he just woke up.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No,” A pause, “Actually, yes. But it’s okay! I want to talk!”

Talking like this made it feel like nothing was wrong in the world. Like you adrift somewhere in the universe, waiting for gravity to claim you. It made you feel unabashedly free. Maybe one day, the feeling would become reality.

Maybe one day, there wouldn’t be secrets, there wouldn’t be lies.

There wouldn’t be strange doctors, and men named Samuel Sterns. There wouldn’t be parents that didn’t care, or, maybe they cared too much?

There would only be you, Joaquín, and the world as your stage. There would be your students, Grace, and classical music. There would be Wendy, and long nights of snuggles to heal wounds you knew the both of you had. This world would have your power, but maybe you’d learn to live with it by then.

“Where are you? I was thinking, as long as you're not on a mission right now that I might fly out and see you. I want to talk about some things with you.”

Hopefully Grace wouldn’t mind taking care of the studio again.

“I’ll be in Baltimore in a few days for training if you want to meet me there! I don’t think Sam would mind. He’s been itching to meet you, anyway.”

Baltimore. That wasn’t terribly far. “Sounds good. I’m excited to see you.”

It’s a half truth. You are excited. Actually, beyond ecstatic to see him again, but you’re also sort of dreading having to unveil the truth of what the past few months had held.

* * *

You meet him at the airport, where you settle down at the coffee shop to catch up before you officially meet Sam. Everything is louder, so much more intense and it makes you feel nauseated.

Joaquín goes for a hug, but you back away.

What if you hurt him?

His eyes soften, and for a moment he looks a bit like a kicked puppy. “Is everything okay?”

You hadn’t cried since that appointment with the doctor when she told you what she found, but being here now with Joaquín makes the feelings rush back in. Tears cloud your vision, but you do your best to blink them away.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper. “I need to tell you something.”

He guides you to a quiet corner in the cafe, pulling your chair out for you before settling into the seat across from you.

His eyes remind you of sunshine, of sunny days you’d spent together as kids. It gives you a bit of confidence.

You can do this, Child. You’re safe with Joaquín.

You take a deep breath. “Do you remember all those tests I had to go through? I lied about the results. They found something.”

Joaquín sits forward, concern filling his eyes as he settles his forearms on the tabletop. “They found something? Are you okay?”

It’s as though the words are stuck in your throat. They want to escape, but your fear blocks them from coming out.

Deep breath.

In. Out.

Out. In.

And then you say it. You tell him everything, words spilling from your mouth so quickly that you’re not even sure he’ll catch a thing you said.

You expect him to get mad, to rage, to be upset, to cry, to have some adverse reaction to all of it.

Instead, he stands. He comes around the table, and pulls you up from your seat.

“What are you doing?” You ask quietly.

He shushes you, tugging you into arms. He holds you as though you’re breakable, as though you are a porcelain cup that has one too many cracks in it. His hand comes to the back of your head, guiding your face to the crook of his neck.

“Joaquín,” You protest. “I could’ve hurt Grace. What if-”

He shakes his head. “You won’t hurt me.”

A teardrop lands in your hair, and he sniffles. “They shouldn’t have been allowed to do that to you, Y/n.”

And there it is, that anger that you were expecting to come out initially. Except it isn’t directed at you like you thought it would be. He’s angry on your behalf.

“I don’t know what to do,” You say into his shirt.

You’d felt helpless for the past few months. You hated asking for help, but maybe you needed it in this instance.

“I think you should consider talking to Sam about this. I trust him with my life, Y/n. He’s been friends with a lot of people with abilities and powers that theoretically shouldn’t be possible. He could help us.”

Joaquín wouldn’t steer you wrong. He wouldn’t put you in a situation like your parents had.

“Okay,” You finally say. “I’ll talk with Sam.”

#joaquin torres fanfiction #joaquin torres imagine #joaquin torres x reader #falcon #joaquin torres #falcon x reader #joaquin torres fic #marvel #danny ramirez #joaquín torres #edelweissjoaquin

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dasketcherz · 4 hours ago

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YES YES YES YESSSS YALL ARE SO REAL FOR THIS!!!

I, too, am a believer that Hugo's "flirty" side is just another part of the persona mask he puts on to keep himself guarded. (considering his line of work) A skill that he artificially learned as just another tactical tool for survival, especially when discreetly conversing with other crooked individuals just to gain tight useful information that he needs for his own benefits. He probably often treats his mingling interactions as merely part of the job, just another method into forming negotiations if need be. Business is business and all that.

But all that textbook flirting 101 is tossed out the fuckin window as soon as he catches actual feelings because bro is actually an absolute puppy underneath the cool guy facade. He's just a dork who was forced to tuck that side of him hidden away to protect himself and nobody can convince me otherwise. He fell first AND fell harder!!

And Varian??—oh yeah, he's the one who totally has the real rizz between the two of them if Great Expotations was anything to go by—because it was evidently shown to us in that episode that when that boy loves?? he locks the fuck in. He's the type who is set on making sure you feel special simply because you are to him personally. And to have a boyfriend like that for Hugo who has been made to feel like he's less than the privileged?? can you really blame him for being so down bad swooning and falling deeply madly in love with him? nahhh <3

Hugo is the flirt in their relationship.

Hugo is the one that uses the cheesiest pet names.

Hugo can't keep his hands off Varian.

NO!

*bats that shit away with a broom*

Hugo's charm is all fake. It's a front he plays with, but as soon as the feelings get real, he's a goddamn mess. His rizz drops down to zero and he's the hopeless one. Once they're a couple, their dynamic shifts, and Varian is the one being the romantic tease. He's the one that plans their dates, toys with his boyfriend, and enjoys getting Hugo flustered.

Varian's favorite thing to do when they have a short moment alone is to grab that dorky beanpole and make out with him so hard, Hugo's glasses fog up. Then he walks away like they didn't just french kiss like the world was ending tomorrow.

#it's not just the passionate initiative that Varian gives him #it's knowing what would make him swoon and when to shower him with affection #←prev tag #FOR FUCKIN REAAAL #paying attention to the little things about each other is how they show love #and they always appreciated the way they admire a lot of things about one another aghhh #vat7k #varigo #vat7k new memories #varian and the7 kingdoms #varian and the seven kingdoms #vatsk #vat7k hugo #vat7k varian #tts #tangled the series #vat7k dicussions

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suzukiblu · 1 day ago

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WIP excerpt for ZepysGirl behind the cut; “the wet nurse omegaverse”. ( FYI this last scenebit was supposed to be the end of the first chapter of the first installment in this series. totally unrelatedly, I have now realized this chapter is over thirty thousand words long. so, uhhhhh, we'll see how that edits up later, I guess, hahaha. ) (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Arguably correct, but our candidate isn’t especially concerned with pack manners,” Bruce replies in the largest understatement he’s made since the last time he and Alfred attempted to express some semblance of actual sincere emotion at each other. “He also barely even acknowledged either of their existences while downright doting on Chris and Jon.”

“Alright, that’s a better sign,” Dick allows. “But we’re still gonna keep looking for Aunt Diana at least until this omega is confirmed as a definitely workable candidate.”

“Understood,” Bruce says, since there is still a chance Lor might not digest Carl’s milk well or just won’t get enough nutrients from it to thrive long-term without an actually established pack bond in place, as opposed to just the instinctive feral version.

“We’ll report in again in eighteen hours if we don’t find her sooner,” Dick says. “Going off-grid now. According to Constantine, anyway.”

“Understood,” Bruce repeats. That is the least reassuring thing Dick could’ve possibly said, especially after the “favor” mention, but he’s not optimistic enough to think he can convince Dick not to do whatever he’s already in the middle of doing in the four seconds he has before Dick inevitably cuts the line.

“Great!” Dick says brightly. “Call Jason, goddammit, you know damn well it has to be you.” And then he cuts the line, unsurprisingly.

Bruce . . . exhales. Puts his phone back to sleep and tucks it away.

“Well, you could,” Lois says, also unsurprisingly.

“Hn,” Bruce says. It would have to be him to call for a request like this, yes. Technically Alfred could too, as the pack’s head beta, but . . .

Well, in these circumstances, he doesn’t actually know when it would’ve hit the point of Alfred going over his head to contact Jason. For one thing, it’d be very obvious to Jason that Alfred had gone over his head, which Bruce can’t imagine making him any more inclined to come back.

And either way, Jason would still need to reestablish an actual active pack bond with him again to count as close enough to “pack” for his milk to really benefit Lor any more than Carl’s should already be capable of doing, which . . . well, given the fact that Clark won’t even forgive himself for perceived failures, Bruce can’t see how to justify forgiving himself for actual ones, much less to that degree.

And wouldn’t let himself, even if he could.

Though even if Jason didn’t agree to reestablishing their pack bond, Clark would still mind him nursing Lor less, Bruce knows. Jason would count as close enough just for being the pup of a packmate, bonded or not; even a grown pup that Clark's never known particularly well. That would be infinitely easier for Clark’s omega to accept, compared to hiring a total stranger.

But only asking Jason to come back to the pack for something like this . . . only asking Jason to come home for something like this . . .

That isn’t something Bruce could expect Jason’s omega to accept.

Of course it’s not.

“Thank you for this,” Clark says, which has come up a few dozen times already. Bruce doesn’t bother pointing that out this time, given that he’s already done it a few dozen times and Clark obviously still has the eidetic memory either way. “We just–it didn’t feel safe, handling this problem in Metropolis.”

“That would be because it wasn’t,” Bruce says. If nothing else, Clark’s anxiety while they brought unfamiliar omegas into his territory would really not be helpful for anyone, mostly because no one wants Superman that anxious in the event an apocalypse happens.

Maybe if they want a sixty/forty chance of that apocalypse being dealt with very quickly and very brutally, but those aren’t ideal odds or the kind of thing Clark actually wants to do outside of absolute necessity.

“Well, let’s be fair, how much safer is Gotham?” Lois asks wryly, the corner of her mouth ticking up in amusement as she sets a hand on her hip. “Percentage-wise and all, you know.”

“That depends on the scale of destruction you’re trying to avoid,” Bruce replies, since Gotham is very frequently a place of smaller, more personal tragedies and Metropolis is very frequently the center of massive alien invasions, and those are obviously very different things. Not that no one ever wants to burn down Gotham and not that Metropolis never has innocent people get caught up in petty little acts of meaningless violence, but just statistically-speaking. Although–“But we’re in Bristol right now, so that’s not really relevant anyway.”

“Oh, the man thinks he’s funny,” Lois snorts, her amused smirk widening.

“Can’t imagine why you’d get that impression, Mrs. Lane-Kent,” Bruce lies mildly. Lois laughs, and Clark looks a little amused despite himself, so good. Hopefully that broke a little bit of tension there, or at least took the edge off.

That’s something he’s going to have to be worrying about, he knows. Obviously Clark isn’t going to be deliberately starting anything with a kid in Carl’s situation, but it’s not unlikely Carl’s total lack of pack manners might ruffle some feathers or lead to some miscommunication or unnecessary feelings of being challenged or–well, there’s plenty of ways that could go wrong.

Everything he knows about human–and human-socialized–psychology aside, Bruce is just . . . very much not prepared for this, he already knows. Which is its own problem, frankly, but one he’s just going to have to deal with once he’s gotten some decent sleep under his utility belt.

“I think I actually am going to go review that contract before dinner, given we’ve got the time,” Bruce says, mostly to get away and give them both a few moments together. It’s a natural enough escape, and Dick’s call already broke up the conversation a bit anyway. Besides, better to be thorough; make sure they didn’t miss anything in there while they were distracted by sleep deprivation and stress and unfamiliar omegas nursing their pups when they could.

Not all of those things are applicable to both of them, obviously, but the point stands.

Anyway, he wants to start running a background check on Carl as soon as possible, and maybe also run his fingerprints and DNA just in case. Which–alright, DNA is admittedly a little much even for him, when again, they specifically went and found this kid, but, well, if the prints don’t turn anything up or there are any red flags in his paperwork . . .

Possibly Clark would not appreciate that, but that’s only if he finds out about it.

Honestly, if anything he should take a nap before dinner, but he at least wants to get the background checks going–on Carl, yes, but especially on the Waterton Agency and every single person working for it from top and bottom. He clearly didn’t go in-depth enough the first time, and clearly needed to be approaching said checks more proactively. And aggressively.

He’s not going to pretend that he wouldn’t have had them come for the consultation either way once the agency had told him that it had a potentially suitable candidate for Lor’s needs, because given the situation he absolutely would have, but he’d at least have preferred to be forewarned before he was standing in his own damn parlor with a beta who was offering to get an oblivious omega who only might be a legal adult mated to a convenient stranger in case either he or Lois decided to take advantage of an employee who was at best half their ages, dammit.

He definitely would’ve preferred to be forewarned about that, actually. Just–very definitely. His cortisol levels were already high enough as it was.

Bruce very badly needs to sleep tonight. At least six hours uninterrupted, barring acts of either God, gods, or Gotham.

“Need another pair of eyes on that?” Clark asks. Bruce wonders how the most emotionally healthy person in this conversation is missing the fact that he's trying to leave him alone with his husband so she can help him with said emotional health like he clearly needs.

Then again, Clark might just be trying to avoid that particular conversation for as long as possible.

“Maybe one or two,” Bruce says, since he does understand why Clark might not be ready to have that conversation yet, but also isn’t letting the self-loathing idiot escape Lois’s sphere of influence that easily. Not that Lois really needs his permission to insert herself in a situation no matter whose den they’re currently in, but he might as well give her the clear in.

“Er–” Clark starts, and Lois gives them both a speculative, assessing look and then says, “Yeah, we can do that, can’t we, honey.”

“We left the paperwork in my office. Plenty of room for three,” Bruce says, then gestures politely towards the hall. “Though I’m going to need to make a quick stop on the way, so why don’t you two just meet me there?”

“No problem,” Lois says. Clark . . . sighs, then smiles a little wryly. A little sadly, too, but that’s likely unavoidable right now.

“You’re both merciless,” he says.

“No idea what you’re talking about, honey,” Lois says, offering him her arm with her usual sly smile. There’s a bit more compassion behind the expression than she’d need for a different conversation, but that’s just as unavoidable as Clark’s smile being a little sad is right now. Bruce doesn’t actually know if they’re even going to talk–that’s up to Clark, more than anyone else–but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to do his damnedest to give them at least a moment before Clark feels like he has to go back to pretending nothing’s wrong.

“Won’t be a moment,” Bruce lies easily, and then heads off to do just that.

They’re in his territory, after all, and on top of that they’re both pack to him. He’s going to give them every damn thing he can provide, whether it’s something as simple as a moment alone to breathe or as necessary as the room to have a difficult conversation or as painful as a stranger to do something they just can’t.

Whether that stranger is actually someone who should even be here at all, or is someone who might need just as much help himself. Might be a victim, or unsafe, or just alone and unprotected.

Carl is an employee, obviously, and not one who means anything like the Lane-Kent pack does to the Wayne pack, but as long as he’s in Bruce’s territory too . . . well, Bruce can multitask a little, if it comes to it. Especially if potentially helping a stray omega who might be in a questionable situation will definitely help keep Clark’s new pup from starving to death right in front of them.

Multitasking, again.

So whoever Carl Krummett is and whatever happened to him and wherever he came from, they’re not getting him back anytime soon.

Not as long as Bruce has anything to say about it, anyway.

#bruce wayne #superfamily #batfamily #clois #wip: the wet nurse omegaverse #omegaverse #zepysgirl

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marzipanandminutiae · 6 hours ago

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I see what you're getting at in regards to the importance of breast support in fantasy fashion, but aren't there many non-western cultures that did not necessarily use clothes as breast support? Ranging from those that just let it swing to those which might just use a light, non-rigid undergarment? People with (larger) breasts continued to do labor and physical activities in those societies, so I don't think it's impossible to imagine a fashion that doesn't include this type of feature. By the same logic of "women aren't dumb and wouldn't have worn corsets and stays if they were torture devices" I think we have to accept that women wouldn't have skipped breast support if it was highly uncomfortable for them

there are some cultures in various places that currently or previously have forgone breast support garments, yes!

it's not a strict Western/Non-Western divide, I will say- for example, traditional Japanese clothing includes a bandage-like arrangement called sarashi (sarashi is the name of the cloth, but came to be synonymous with the breast-covering application in some cases) that supports and somewhat minimizes the bust without binding completely flat the way we think of it for gender-related purposes. or the angia in India, a garment that dates back at least to the 19th century and not further than the 13th and was sort of a cross between a blouse and a bra as I understand it. it's believed to have been brought to India by Muslim conquests, by some historians

there have also been moments in western history when breast support was either absent or is not currently well-understood by historians. in many parts of medieval Europe, for example, it wasn't addressed in contemporary sources. the Lengberg Castle "bra," dated c. 1440-1485, is one rare example of what equally rare primary sources sometimes call a "breastbag," but the evidence is pretty thin on the ground

and I do wonder about that! how is it not uncomfortable, speaking as someone of medium bust size who's experienced pain when wearing a bra with perished elastic for too long? I've tried looking into this online, and nobody seems to have asked women in modern societies where total toplessness is the norm

you see a lot of braless advocates from cultures where bras are the norm claiming that bras are the cause of the discomfort: they weaken the muscles and make it painful to go without. but photos of women from opless cultures show just as much sagging as any woman who's worn a bra may experience, so the muscles can't be THAT affected

so what's the deal? how are or were these women comfortable where many other women the world over would not be? no idea and nobody's researching it. argh

however, I should have been clearer that I was talking about fantasy/historical books in a western-inspired setting. I thought context and the prior posts about similar topics on this blog would do thatt for me, which was my mistake. this particular book was set in a world heavily inspired by early-mid 19th century Germany

books written by authors from Bra Cultures, about time periods and places where breast support was a commonplace thing. where it's just...not addressed. that's what annoys me

#ask #anon #fashion history #clothing history #historical fiction #like believe me when I say: the butch character in this book was dressed in an early-mid 19th century suit #described IN DETAIL in its component parts #'she took off her greatcoat but not her jacket and straightened her waistcoat where it had bunched over her shirt'#type of thing #(I assumed she was either small-chested or her waistcoat was providing support)#and the feminine characters were just like 'she was wearing a skirt. or a formal gown. or a blouse and trousers. anyway moving on'

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smilesrobotlover · 3 days ago

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AO3

First|| <<Prev Next>>(coming soon)

Chapter 15- Escape

“Piercing the barrier is one thing, but escaping the island is another.”

Zelda stared at the small map on the table, with Vand pointing to an area on the edge.

“We must be strategic on where the barrier is destroyed,” Vand said, “lest we run around mindlessly while the beast catches up to us. We are a separate island, and the only way off is by using the kargarok carriers.”

“Kargarok carriers?” Zelda repeated, and Vand nodded.

“It’s how we get from island to island. I don’t know if they’re still there, but they usually rest on this part of the island.” Vand pointed to a small peninsula on the map, and Zelda nodded.

“So we need to get to that spot at the barrier and rush to the kargaroks,” she said, and Vand nodded again.

“Yes. If they’re there.”

Zelda frowned, staring at the map. “How far is that spot away from the barrier?”

“It’s far. The beast surrounded the city, but the outskirts where the kargaroks stay weren’t trapped within.”

“So they couldn’t have been threatened enough to fly off?” Zelda suggested.

“That is the hope.”

“And where are we?”

Vand pointed to a spot almost on the opposite side of the peninsula. “We’re far. Getting to the barrier in that area will be a challenge.”

Zelda narrowed her eyes, her eyes looking between where they were and where they needed to be.

“It’s doable, we’ll just need to be careful.” She said, then she turned to Vand and the other Twili. “Someone needs to keep an eye out to see if the twilight beast is away, then we can make our escape.”

“I’ll go,” Hoz volunteered, and Turk stepped up.

“I will go too.”

Zelda nodded. “Good. Come back once the beast is away. We mustn’t let it know what we’re doing.”

“Yes, my queen.” Hoz bowed and left the room with Turk. Vand turned to Zelda when they left, slouching over the map on the table.

“We’ll need to be quick as soon as the barrier is destroyed, but not too quick so we don’t scare off the kargaroks.”

“We’ll also need to decide who goes with who,” Zelda stated. “If there’s only three kargaroks, I doubt they can carry all of us.” There weren’t a lot of survivors left, but there were enough to make taking the kargaroks challenging. From what she saw, there were only eight Twili left, including Vand, and with her and the others, that added up to twelve people in total. She didn’t know how much the kargaroks could carry, but if there were too many of them…

“Kargarok carriers are strong, stronger than regular kargaroks,” Vand explained, easing Zelda’s worries. “They can carry up to three Twili, and you light dwellers are so small, I doubt they’ll notice your weight. You and Hoz may go with me and my son. The other light-dweller and the prince may go with Nerc, who is skilled with the carriers.” Vand pointed at the round Twili, who was one of the first Twili Zelda greeted. Zelda nodded, but she didn’t feel entirely relieved.

“Some may still have to stay behind,” she muttered, and Vand looked down.

“I can’t lose anyone else.”

“If there’s not enough kargaroks, then we will lose people,” Zelda said firmly. “You must face the reality that we can’t take everyone with us. The survivors will be safer down here than up there stranded with nowhere to go.”

Vand didn’t meet her eyes. He clearly didn’t want to think about it.

“What do you suggest we do then?” Vand asked, his voice soft.

“If you absolutely must, take Rusl and Kori with you. They know Midna personally and can easily get through to her.”

“No, we must take you as well. You’re the queen with light arrows.”

Zelda glanced down at her hand. She hated being so important where her life was more important than others, but he did have a point. Her light arrows would prove useful in case anything happened beyond the barrier.

“Very well,” she muttered, “we will go, but the rest of the Twili may have to stay.”

Vand’s expression turned somber, and he nodded sadly, turning to where the survivors were huddled. She understood his hesitation, but they had to make sacrifices to survive.

“We’ll come back for them,” she said, trying to ease his concerns. Vand nodded seriously, not meeting her gaze.

“I will make sure of it,” he whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hoz had to say, he was grateful the Twili were so tall. Sitting on Turk’s shoulders was embarrassing, but he was able to peek through the hole cover that hid their hideout without fully exposing the two. But Turk wavered slightly under Hoz’s weight, causing Hoz to nearly drop the cover.

“Hold it steady,” Hoz ordered, and Turk nodded.

“S-sorry.” He apologized, gripping onto Hoz’s legs. “You’re heavier than I thought you’d be.”

Hoz sighed, lifting up the cover again and peeking through. It seemed to be empty from what he saw; he didn’t even hear the twilight beast lurking around.

“I think we’re clear!” He cheered softly. “I see no beast!”

“Oh, that’s good,” Turk sighed with relief. “Let’s head back and—”

“Wait a second.” Hoz narrowed his eyes, spotting something moving in the city. It clearly wasn’t the beast, but instead was black magic swirling around in a small puddle, but the longer Hoz watched, the bigger the magic grew. Soon, before his very eyes, it grew into a figure, and a wavering armored beast that carried a heavy sword began patrolling the streets, with more like it appearing. Hoz gasped when one threatened to appear right in front of the cover, and he dropped it to hide the two.

“What is it, Hoz?” Turk asked, his voice wavering.

Hoz hopped off of Turk’s shoulders, grabbing the Twili’s arm and pulling him to the others. “We must return! Hurry!”

“Wait, what’s happening?” Turk asked, pulling away and reaching for the lid.

“Don’t! Turk!” Hoz hissed, but the Twili didn’t listen as he lifted the cover and took a peek himself. As soon as the cover was lifted, it was immediately closed as Turk turned to Hoz with his red eyes wide.

“Oh sh—”

“Come on!” Hoz yelled, though quietly enough so the new monsters wouldn’t hear, and the two sprinted through the tunnels to return to their respective leaders.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hoz and Turk tore through the entrance, both wide-eyed and frantic as they spotted Zelda and Vand. Zelda walked up to Hoz, her mind racing as to why the two were so frazzled.

“What happened?” She asked, and Hoz swallowed, catching his breath.

“Uh… well… we have good news and bad news.” Hoz said, straightening his back and clasping his hands together. “The good news is, the twilight beast is nowhere in sight!”

Zelda frowned while Hoz gave a thumbs-up. “So what’s the bad news?”

“Well… it created monsters that are patrolling the city!”

Zelda felt her stomach drop, and she looked to Vand who’s eyes were wide.

“It what?”

“It created monsters that are patrolling the city.”

“What kind of monsters?”

Hoz looked at Turk, who stepped up.

“Armored monsters that carry swords! There’s several of them, and I think they’re looking for us!” Turk explained.

“We’re dead!” Nerc wailed, but Rusl stepped up, his arms crossed.

“We’re not dead yet! We’ll just have to sneak past them!”

The group all looked at him, and Hoz nodded.

“Yes! There’s a lot, but they’re spread out enough that there’ll be windows of opportunity for us to sneak past!”

“How will we all sneak past safely?” A Twili asked, and Vand looked to him before looking at Sheik.

“Some may have to stay behind.” He said softly.

“What?”

The remaining Twili stood, all hovering near Vand who looked noticeably uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, but I can only take the light dwellers, Nerc, and Turk with me. The rest of you will have to stay,” he explained, but the others didn’t seem pleased with the explanation.

“Are you serious?” One asked in disbelief. “When we finally have a chance to escape, you’re going to leave us here?”

“I’ll be back—“

“You’re the reason this got to the point in the first place!” Another shouted, getting close to Vand. “And now you’re running away and abandoning us?!”

“No! I’m not abandoning you!” Vand said desperately, stepping away from the angry Twili. “I swear I’ll be back with help!”

“How can we believe you? You did nothing when people were disappearing under your own nose!”

Zelda stepped up, standing between Vand and the Twili. “Please listen to me. It’s your best chance of survival to stay here until we get help! If there’s not enough kargaroks then you’ll be stranded, having to get back here undetected! Do you want that? To be trapped with nowhere to go when you could stay here?”

The Twili all stared at her for a moment, some stepping back after a moment, but a couple lingered.

“How do we know you won’t abandon us?”

“Because I am the queen of Hyrule, and my home and my family are threatened by the beast, just like you! I will not let it stay any longer, and I will not let any more innocent lives get taken because of this thing!” She put her hand over her heart, giving each Twili firm looks. “If you cannot trust Vand, then trust me. I promise, lest the golden three strike me down, we will return for you. We will all survive this!”

The Twili were silent for a long moment, and they finally stepped back. Zelda calmed down, relieved that they were finally accepting the situation, though they still didn’t look happy. She couldn’t blame them; if she was in their position, she’d be upset too.

“So what’s the plan?” Hoz asked, and Zelda looked down, trying to think.

“We need to know the path each monster travels so we can sneak around. And we’ll have to be very careful. We don’t know what we’re up against.”

The group all nodded, and Vand stood up, avoiding eye contact with the other twili.

“We should move out now. I fear more issues will pop up if we wait any longer.”

“I agree.” Zelda turned to the light dwellers. “Are you all ready?”

“I’ve been ready for a while now,” Rusl chuckled, holding Kori next to him.

“Good. Let’s not waste anymore time.”

Zelda and the others left the room, with Vand lingering near the entryway with a concerned expression on his face.

“I will return for you. I promise,” he said, but the twili said nothing. They only watched while pressed up against the wall opposite to them. Hoz glanced at Zelda with an uncomfortable expression, and they finally left, with Zelda growing more and more determined to escape.

While she was trying to find sleep earlier, the light arrows wouldn’t leave her mind. She didn’t know how she was going to summon them, or if the sol would actually help, and she tossed and turned for what felt like hours trying to think of ideas. When she finally found rest, they were full of nightmares. They were all different, but the same person was in each of them: Amber.

For some reason, thinking about her daughter filled her with an intense sense of dread, knowing that she was in danger while the beast roamed the land, and it filled her with a righteous anger. She wasn’t going to let the beast touch her daughter, her family, her home. And when she woke up from the nightmares, she felt the divine magic within her swelling, and she knew how to summon the light arrows. She would think about Amber.

As bad as she felt for him, she was glad that Kori was with them. Though he supposedly met Amber once, he clearly meant a lot to her daughter with the way she gave him her toy, and his childness and innocence reminded him so much of her. It’d make summoning the light arrows easier for her.

Though, it wasn’t just Amber. When Zelda awoke from her nightmare, she felt something in her pocket pressing up against her leg uncomfortably. It was the chocolate orange Edmund gave to her before, completely forgetting about it. It wasn’t just Amber she was fighting for, but also hope—hope for her future and happiness.

She needed to do whatever she could to destroy this thing.

They stood by the entrance while Hoz and Turk peeked through the hole, and Zelda noticed Kori pressing himself up against Rusl’s legs. He looked terrified, no doubt stressed from everything that’s happened recently, and she felt sorry for the poor thing. Kori was just too young to go through something like this.

“Kori,” she started, and the boy looked up at him, almost surprised that she said his name. She took out the chocolate orange and handed him a piece. “It’ll be ok.”

Kori stared at the chocolate, looking up at Rusl in confusion, but the man nudged him forward which gave him the courage to take the piece.

“Thank you,” he said, and Zelda nodded, smiling. She glanced at Rusl.

“Do you want one? It’s a good energy boost.”

Rusl let out a quiet laugh. “How can I refuse a gift from the queen?”

The three each ate a piece, with Zelda becoming more and more determined to break the barrier and escape the fallen city, tucking the sol onto her back so she wouldn’t need to hold it in her arms. When Hoz and Turk gave her a nod, the group all quickly left their sanctuary, once again standing out in the open where Zelda spotted the monsters Hoz mentioned earlier. They were patrolling the alleys and streets, stumbling and moving as if undead. Immediately, Hoz led the group to cover, where one too close for comfort walked by, seemingly not noticing them.

“Spirits,” Rusl muttered under his breath, picking up Kori and holding him close as he watched the monsters. “Where do we need to go?”

Vand pointed ahead, to an area framed by trees. Rusl nodded and watched the one closest to them again, and when it left their vision, the group all started to move. To Zelda’s surprise, Rusl was in the front despite carrying a child, his feet barely making a sound as he half-ran to the next cover. Zelda had studied many Sheikah techniques to sneak around, but this Ordonian was almost making her ashamed of her skills.

The group all huddled inside a broken building, making sure that they were all out of the monster’s sight. Hoz and Rusl watched the monsters, and the captain turned to Zelda, his brows furrowed.

“That one isn’t moving,” he whispered, pointing to one that stood while looking side to side. “What should we do?”

Zelda frowned, taking in the area they were in. The monster was up in an alleyway, blocking off the path that they needed to take, so sneaking around would be nearly impossible. They needed a distraction.

“We need to make it move,” she said, pointing to where it should go. “Someone needs to distract it.”

“I can do that,” Hoz immediately volunteered, already grabbing a rock and moving into position. Zelda grabbed his arm, giving him a firm look.

“Don’t get spotted.”

Hoz stared for a moment before nodding and giving her a confident smile. “I won’t.”

The group stayed back while Hoz moved in, throwing the rock away from the path they needed to move to. The monster standing guard immediately turned its head to the sound, beginning to move to it, and Hoz tucked himself away from its vision. The twili began moving, with Rusl following while holding Kori’s hand. It seemed he gave up on carrying him. Zelda waited for Hoz to start moving before she followed the rest, but just as she reached the path, a horrifying shriek shattered the silence. Zelda spun around to see the monsters’ eyes on Hoz, who looked panicked.

“Hoz—” Zelda hissed, but the man took off running, deeper into the city and leading dozens of the monsters to chase after him.

“Oh no!” Turk cried, and Rusl shoved Kori closer to Vand and his son, climbing up the building before Zelda could even think. She cursed under her breath and followed, commanding the others to hide as she sprinted after Rusl, who was jumping across buildings. The monsters were clearly clambering after Hoz, though the two couldn’t see where he was. Rusl jumped over another alleyway and stopped abruptly, pointing to an area where they finally spotted the man, who was running desperately for his life. The two jumped down into the alleyway, running to where Hoz was going to escape to, and just as he was about to pass them, Rusl suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the sight of the sprinting monsters.

Hoz squirmed and yelled, but Rusl had his arms wrapped around the man, his hand pressed firmly against his mouth. Zelda entered his vision and he stopped squirming, his eyes wide as they waited for the monsters to run past. They stayed there for a moment until it quieted down, and Zelda gestured for them to climb up the buildings again. Hoz and Rusl nodded, and the Ordonian let her captain go, the man looking a few shades lighter. The three climbed up the buildings and began their trek back to the others, making sure that the monsters weren’t facing them as they jumped from building to building. For one building, Hoz tripped and nearly fell into the alleyway where a monster was patrolling, but Zelda and Rusl were able to pull him up before the monster spotted them.

“Goddesses,” Hoz cursed under his breath, allowing the two to help him stand. They finally reached where the others waited, being able to jump over the guarding monster, and Vand let out a quiet sigh of relief when he spotted them, his hand over his heart.

“We got so worried,” he whispered, and Hoz nodded.

“Yes, I’m sorry. Thank you, your highness,” he thanked, bowing low while holding Zelda’s hand, and she nodded back, smiling. She wasn’t going to lose anyone here to the twilight beast.

“We’re almost there,” Vand said, leading the others down their path, and Zelda followed.

“You’re welcome,” Rusl grumbled while trailing behind her and she simply gave him a smile. They were entering more open areas, which made sneaking far more trickier for them, but they had no more mishaps as they moved around each patrolling monster. Finally, they entered a forest, where the barrier was much closer now. Making sure no monsters were around, the group ran up to the barrier, with Vand pointing straight ahead.

“Do you see those Kargaroks?” He asked, and the others nodded. Several giant winged creatures stood ahead of them, with glowing markings circling around inside their bloomed face staring mindlessly, unaware of the group planning to get to them. “We go for them after this barrier is destroyed. Zelda, you and Hoz go with me. Nerc, Turk, you two take the light dweller and prince.”

Everyone nodded again and stepped back, giving Zelda the opportunity to do what she needed to do. She took out the sol from her back, staring at the divine magic swirling within it. She closed her eyes, thinking about what she needed to fight for.

“Hello, mother and father. I finished my studies and I wanted to catch you when the meeting ended!”

Amber’s voice rang out in her mind, and she bowed her head to pray, her daughter’s sweet face, curious eyes, and bright smile coming into her mind.

“I do… care about you.”

Edmund’s voice spoke up, making her remember the chocolate that was still in her pocket.

“I just want to help out.”

The light magic swirled within her, the mark on her hand growing warm from the Triforce of wisdom.

“If you ever wanna… I dunno… turn into Sheik and visit Ordon… We’d love to have you.”

Anger suddenly bubbled within her chest, the fury making her shake. The light grew brighter and brighter, and the bow of light appeared in her hand once again.

“I love you Amber…”

“…I love you too.”

She let an arrow loose, aiming right for the barrier, and it cracked under the divine power.

But it didn’t break.

Panic spiked in her chest as shrieks from the patrolling monsters were heard, and she fired another arrow, then another, each one deepening the cracks, but never breaking the barrier. The monsters were coming closer, and she saw the others getting more ansty out of the corner of her eyes. Losing her patience, she fired one more arrow, then charged at the barrier, throwing her whole body against it. To her relief, it finally shattered, and she landed on the ground with a harsh thud.

“RUN!” Vand yelled, and Zelda was suddenly picked up by Hoz and dragged to where the Kargaroks waited. She remembered them when Zant first attacked—it was odd how they were helping her now.

There were about five of the creatures sitting there, with some flying away from the group sprinting at them. Zelda sent a prayer that not all would fly away, and Vand was able to grab one before it got away.

“Sh, quiet!” He tried to soothe, giving it pets to calm it down. The other group was struggling to nab a kargarok, with them threatening to fly away while Nerc tried to coax it back. The patrolling monsters were bursting through the broken barrier, running dangerously close to the group. They needed to leave, now!

Vand got control of the Kargarok and got his son onto its back, desperately gesturing for Hoz and Zelda to follow. The captain let her go first where she sat behind Vand, then he sat behind her. Zelda glanced over at the others to see Rusl struggling to get Kori on the other one, Nerc and Turk already on the carrier. Kori was put on successfully, and Rusl was about to get on himself, but he was too late.

The monsters caught up to them, Vand taking to the skies which was safe from them, but Rusl was grabbed and pulled off just as Nerc tried to fly away, with Kori screaming his name.

“Rusl!” Zelda called out, pulling out the light arrows and aiming for the monster pinning Rusl to the ground. To her surprise, it completely vaporized into a golden light, allowing Rusl to scramble to his feet. Nerc, however, was already too far away, his expression tense as he watched Rusl helpless on the ground.

“I’ll get him!” Vand yelled, kicking the kargarok’s sides and sending it to where Rusl stood, who was defensively watching the monsters get closer.

“Rusl!” Zelda called out to him again, and he looked up just in time to see the karagarok’s claws reaching out for him, picking him off the ground before the monsters could reach him, and they finally flew away.

Vand dropped Rusl off on the other carrier where Turk helped him down, and he let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” he said to Zelda and Vand, his voice wavering, and Zelda nodded, looking behind her to the island they were flying away from. The monsters were pouring over the sides in a desperate attempt to get to them, but they were safe.

Goddesses they were safe.

Zelda let out an involuntary sob as she leaned her body over the sol, and she felt Hoz rest his head against her back. They were safe.

“Ok, to the queen then,” Vand said, giving Nerc a nod, and he nodded back. They flew over the twilight skies, with Zelda noting the miles and miles of emptiness below her. But it didn’t frighten her, for she felt a weight lifted off her shoulder. They had a fighting chance now, they had a chance to defeat the beast.

They were safe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It felt like they flew for hours, passing other islands and towns that watched them fly by. The Twilight Realm was not at all what she was expecting it to be, like how the islands were basically floating in the air, making them travel with the kargaroks. It was unlike anything she’s ever seen, and it made her think of Amber and her fascination with big birds that Hylians used to fly on. She wondered if she’d like it here. Eventually, they finally made it to a large island with an elaborate castle standing out against the red sky, and Zelda could almost feel Midna’s presence there. A ping of fear went through her heart as she thought about her, anxiety beginning to gnaw at her insides. She hasn’t seen Midna in ten years. How would she be now? Would she be excited to see her? Or would she feel awkward?

When Zant first attacked Hyrule, Zelda had found herself all alone, with her soldiers and parents turned into shadow beasts, the kingdom she now inherited covered in shadows. But then, when she was almost overwhelmed by the loneliness, Midna came along. She wasn’t the warmest person by any means, but she was the friendliest face Zelda had seen in a long time, even before Zant invaded. Midna meant a lot to her, whether she liked to admit it or not, so seeing her again after so long filled her anxieties. Was she still the same from when she first broke the mirror? Or has she changed? With how Link and Kori acted, it seemed she was still the same, but how could she know?

The group landed, and Hoz practically rolled off the kargarok carrier, getting on his hands and knees.

“Oh, sweet land,” he huffed, and Zelda joined him, stretching her aching legs.

“Goddesses above almighty,” Nerc breathed out after dismounting the carrier. “That was… wow…”

“We escaped! We’re here at the castle!” Turk cheered, and he and Nerc both gave each other a hug.

“Yes, I haven’t seen the skies in… I don’t know how long,” Vand muttered, and his son ran up to Kori.

“We made it Kori!” He exclaimed, and Kori grinned wide, his dimples denting his cheeks.

“We made it!”

The two boys hugged each other, and Rusl finally got off the Kargarok, chuckling to himself.

“Makin’ friends everywhere you go, huh Kori?” He asked, and Kori gave him a bashful look before looking down.

“I guess,” he mumbled, and Rusl laughed again, ruffling his hair. Zelda watched them, her brow furrowed as she noticed Rusl’s shirt ripped along his arm and chest.

“Are you alright, Rusl?” She asked, and Hoz nodded.

“You had a bit of a scare there!”

Rusl waved them off, chuckling slightly, though he did look drained.

“I’m fine, it’s just a scratch.” He turned to Zelda, giving her a deep bow. “I owe you my life, Zelda.”

Zelda opened her mouth, but Hoz spoke up before she could get a word out.

“We all owe you our lives! That was just… incredible!” Hoz stood beside Rusl, a proud smile on his face. “I didn’t know you were capable of such… skill! And here I thought I couldn’t respect you more than I already do!”

Zelda’s face went warm and she looked down, trying to downplay the compliments. “I’m just glad we all made it out alive.”

“We wouldn’t have if not for you,” Vans said. “Now we must get the rest of them out. Come, let us go to the queen.”

Zelda looked up at Vand and nodded, glancing at Hoz and Rusl who were still smiling wide at her. Her face went warm again and she turned away, following Vand as he walked away.

“Let’s go see the queen.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, have you thought about it—”

“No.”

The chancellor of the Twilight Realm, Ethel, scoffed, turning away from Midna in frustration.

“You’re not even going to consider it?” He asked, and she shook her head.

“I told you, I’m not interested in a king or a husband,” Midna explained simply, sitting in her throne comfortably, definitely not how a queen should sit in one.

“It would make things easier, you know. Don’t you think I deserve such a title?”

“Are you carrying the heir for nine months? Are you gonna be responsible for every single physical need when she’s born? Your contribution to the future of the twilight realm was only five minutes.”

Ethel made a face, crossing his arms. “This will be much easier for everyone if you weren’t so stubborn. It took us years to finally convince you to have an heir to the Twilight Realm, yet you still refuse a king.”

“Do you remember what happened last time we had a king?”

“Do you honestly think I’ll turn out like Zant?”

Midna gave him a look, trying to decide how she would go answering him.

“No.” She finally said.

“I can’t tell if that’s an insult or not.”

She laughed bitterly and turned away. “We don’t need a king, chancellor, now quit worrying about it.” Ethel went silent, though he stayed by her throne as if trying to think of an argument. Midna sighed and rolled her eyes, sitting up straight. “Why are you even here? To pester me about everything you want?”

“I’m here to see if you’re carrying the heir yet,” Ethel grumbled. “It’s been so many years, you know how impatient the realm has become. I just want to make sure my five minutes didn’t go to waste.”

Midna frowned. It was all that they cared about now. Every conversation had something to do with the heir, each one passive-aggressively insulting her one way or another. It was tiring with how they stopped respecting her as their queen and more like a servant, only there to do their bidding. “I can’t tell yet. Come back in nine months,” she finally said, turning away.

Ethel sighed, giving up. “Fine, be that way. But I warn you, Midna, if you keep this attitude up, the realm might eventually turn against you.”

“The heir will come, alright?” Midna snapped. “Now show your queen some respect, huh?”

Ethel frowned, shaking his head. “I’m sorry if I expressed too much concern for you,” he murmured. Midna only rolled her eyes, feeling relief when a knock came at the doors. She straightened her back and rested her hands on the armrests, letting out a sigh as her long legs crossed over each other.

“You may enter,” she yelled in a bored voice, watching the servants by the door open it. A guard walked in, followed by a small group of twili from what she saw, and the guard bowed low.

“My queen, the governor of Rajani city is here.”

Midna sucked in a breath, giving the guard a nod. Rajani city had been pretty quiet for the past year, making Ethel and many of the court nervous for a possible rebellion rising up against her. Which was why they pressed for a heir so much, hoping it’d ease the tension between her and the many cities throughout the realm.

“Very well, bring him here,” she ordered, and the guard nodded, stepping aside so the governor was able to walk towards her. He looked terrified, his hands fidgeting with each other in front of him, and he bowed.

“M-my queen, I—”

“MOMMY!”

Midna felt her blood run cold, her stomach plummeting to the floor when she saw Kori pop out from behind the governor, him sprinting across the room and throwing himself onto her lap, sobbing hysterically into her arms. She gasped, grasping onto him instinctively, her face tingling from dread as she held her son. Her eyes traveled back up to the governor where she suddenly spotted Rusl and Zelda watching, concerned looks on their faces. They shouldn’t be here, why were they here?

“Kori,” she breathed, almost too shocked to move as his cries filled the air, and she saw Ethel step closer to her.

“Is that—” he started, but she shot him a death glare.

“Don’t. Come. Any. Closer,” she growled, looking back at the confused guards in the room. “I need everyone to leave. Now!”

The guards and Ethel seemed hesitant, so Midna pointed at Ethel and the guards, gesturing them to the doors.

“Everyone except the governor, leave!”

Ethel finally moved away, his expression slightly concerned, taking the guards with him. All that was left in the throne room was Midna, Kori, and everyone who just came in. It was deafeningly silent, with Kori’s crying slowing down, and Rusl finally stepped closer to them.

“Midna—”

“What are you doing here?” She asked, a sharpness in her voice. Rusl was taken aback, shocked at her tone.

“We’re here to get help from you,” he explained, and Midna shook her head aggressively.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Well we are. And we need your help.” Rusl said bluntly, and Midna finally looked him in the eyes. He looked like a mess, with his blond hair tangled, his black clothes ripped and bloodied, and bruises scattered all over his face. His eyes looked tired, and the usual strength in his body was clearly waning. She frowned as she observed him, her grip on Kori tightening.

“What happened?”

Rusl pursed his lips before glancing at the governor, gesturing to him with his head.

“I’ll let Vand here explain it.”

Midna looked at the governor, giving him a nod of permission to speak. He knelt down and rested his head on the ground, as if he were apologizing for something.

“My queen. I come to ask you for aid. For the past year, a rogue shadow beast has been taking my citizens, stealing their force and growing more and more powerful—”

“Wait, a shadow beast?” Midna glanced at Rusl who nodded.

“Did Link tell you about the disappearances? That’s what’s been causing this.”

Midna frowned, shaking her head. “No. There’s no more shadow beasts. Me and Link killed them all.”

“Well clearly one escaped.”

She shook her head again. “It’s not possible!”

“I’m sorry, Midna. It is.”

Midna stared, seeing the seriousness in Rusl’s face. How could it happen? How could one escape from them? Zant used all of the shadow beasts to attack them and to guard him in the castle—they killed them! And the ones that were about to be turned were turned back! It wasn’t possible, it couldn’t be!

“My queen,” Vand spoke up again, “the beast has stolen the force of so many twili in our city, and it has grown powerful over the past ten years. I ask that you help me rescue the last remaining citizens, including the light dwellers it stole away.”

Midna glanced at Zelda this time, seeing her looking down and fidgeting with her fingers. So much was happening at once, and she was struggling to keep up with it all. Guilt ate away at her as the story echoed through her mind; how could she let such a thing happen? How could she not notice Rajani city suffering so? How could she, as queen, not know about this? Why was Zant still haunting her every waking moment even after she killed him?

“Midna?” Rusl spoke up, his expression filled with concern.

“How did you get here?” She asked him, fearing for what he’d say. She made sure that no one would be able to enter the light realm ever again, where only she had the keys to travel between worlds. It was the most tight-lipped she’s ever been about anything, out of fear of shattering the mirror being in vain. There was no way Rusl, Zelda, and Kori got here the same way she’s been traveling, right?

“That twilight beast got so powerful that it’s now able to move between worlds at will,” Rusl simply explained, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “Me, Zelda, and Kori got caught up in the portal when it tried to retreat.”

Midna stroked Kori’s hair, feeling her heart hurt that her son got caught up in such danger. She tried so hard to keep him safe from the dangers of the twilight, but she had failed.

She had failed.

It wasn’t from how she traveled, but the idea of the beast being powerful enough to travel between worlds was terrifying, proof of its incredible power. To open gateways of one’s own free will was a mark of a powerful mage. To do it across dimensions was incomprehensible.

Whatever they were up against, it was no normal shadow beast, deeming it a serious threat not only against the Twilight Realm, but to Hyrule as well.

As it always was, it seemed.

“I am sorry,” she finally said, meeting Vand’s eyes. “I am sorry for not doing more for you when you needed me most.” She stood, still holding Kori in her arms and avoiding everyone’s gazes. She needed to think, but they all needed to be cared for first. “I’ll take you all to the medics, it seems you need it. Follow me.”

Midna began walking through the halls of the castle, with Kori staring at the walls and ceilings, the place he used to call home when he was a child. Everyone was silent as they walked, almost as if saying anything would set her off. They reached the medic, who quickly began tending to the twili while eyeing Rusl curiously.

“Please take care of them,” Midna ordered, referring to all of the light dwellers as well. The medic looked between Rusl and Midna, excitement apparent on his face.

“I would be honored to take care of the light dwellers,” he said, moving to Rusl who took a step back.

“Be gentle,” Midna warned, “that’s my father-in-law you’re dealing with.”

The medic paused, giving Midna a nervous look before getting closer to Rusl more cautiously. Rusl simply gave her a small grin, almost looking surprised.

“Father-in-law, eh?” He teased as the medic carefully poked at the scratches on his arms. Midna simply turned away, not in the mood for the teasing.

“You all may stay here, it seems you’ve been through a lot,” she muttered, setting down Kori and ruffling his hair. “Go ahead and rest up. I’ll get the army ready and save the last survivors,” she promised, and immediately Kori tried to tag along.

“Mommy,” he pleaded, holding onto her cloak, and she cupped his cheek with her hand.

“Kori, my little sol, I want you to stay with your grandpa, ok?” She kissed him on the head, but he pulled back with his brows furrowed.

“But—”

“I’m going to deal with this, then we’ll go home to your dad, ok?”

A flicker of relief went across Kori’s expression, but he still wouldn’t let go of Midna, his eyes wide and pleading. It hurt her heart to peel his hands away, having to turn away to do what she was raised to do. To protect her realm.

“I’ll be back,” she simply said, “you all… um… take care of yourselves.” She gave the medic a nod and rushed out the door, fire running through her veins, everything happening from the past few minutes running rampant through her mind. Though when she finally had the opportunity to think, her name was called, stopping her in her tracks.

“Midna?” Zelda’s voice rang out through the castle, her smooth, elegant voice that held nothing but dignity and wisdom filling the air. Something she hasn’t heard in a while. Something she wouldn’t think she’d ever hear again.

“Zelda,” Midna replied, afraid to face her, to see her face.

There was silence for a moment, and she heard shuffling behind her.

“Um… It’s been a while,” Zelda finally said, and Midna turned to her in confusion. She seemed… shy. Midna had never seen her like that. Reclusive yes, but never shy.

“It has,” Midna mumbled, just as awkward as she. Zelda’s expression kept changing from scared, to confident, and to uncertainty, as if she was trying to think of what to say. Midna took the opportunity to really look at her. She looked tired, worn down, hanging on by a thread, yet still trying to hang on regardless. Her regal facade was clearly breaking, and it was clear that the past ten years were not kind to her. Though, her entire life was riddled with hardships and trials. Midna swallowed, feeling guilt build up within her again as she stared at her old friend. She completely abandoned her, didn’t she?

“I’m happy to see you again,” Zelda finally said, and Midna stared blankly.

“What?”

“I-I said I’m happy to see you again.”

She frowned, staring at the ground, almost angry at the comment. “Why?”

It was Zelda’s turn to stare blankly, her hands still fidgeting nervously in front of her.

“Pardon?”

Midna scoffed, shaking her head in frustration. “How could you be happy to see me after everything?”

“Wh-why wouldn’t I be? It’s been so long, Midna.”

Midna looked down, ignoring the obvious fear in her expression. “I know I hurt you by breaking the mirror. I just… I thought you’d resent me for it.”

Zelda frowned. “No! It hurt, yes, but I never resented you for it!” She looked down at her hands, shrinking away from her. “As rulers we must make difficult decisions for the best of our people. You did what you had to do to protect everyone. It hurt to see the mirror broken, but I know it hurt you more.”

Midna sighed. It was the most painful thing she’s ever done. She tried convincing herself that she wouldn’t miss Link and Zelda when she left, that she wouldn’t be upset over never seeing them ever again. But with the way she was clearly a support to Zelda, the way that she and Link made love that one night, it was nearly impossible to do. Which made everything so frustrating. She went through all that heartache and for what? Just to return two years later? Despite everything, she still tried to keep herself a secret, but Link had begged her to meet the rest of his family, and though she didn’t regret it, it still made things feel vain.

And Zelda never saw her all those years. Midna was too scared to visit.

It wasn’t just because it was risky (though it was), but she was afraid of how Zelda would react to her. Admittedly she was afraid with Link as well, but she knew Link better than he knew himself, so it brought her some comfort that he wouldn’t outright hate her. But Zelda was very quiet and very serious. It was hard to tell how she truly felt about something. The twili were generally very unforgiving if someone were to cross them, so she assumed Zelda would be the same.

Yet here she was, saying that she missed her.

Goddesses.

“Why are you and Link so nice?” Midna whimpered, walking right up to Zelda and pulling her into a hug. Zelda made a surprised noise, her face buried into her chest, but she hesitantly reciprocated, her head resting fully against her. They stood there for a moment, simply holding each other, until Zelda pulled away.

“Are you leaving to fight the beast by yourself?” She asked, and Midna shrugged.

“I won’t be alone, but I do want you to stay here and—”

“No.” Zelda pulled out the sol she was carrying, tapping it with her finger. “With this, I can use the light arrows, which will aid in the battle. Take me with you, and I can help turn the odds to our favor!”

Midna stared at the sol and sighed. She didn’t want to endanger Zelda any further; she felt like she had the responsibility to fight the beast alone since she let it escape, but Zelda had a stubborn expression on her face.

“Let me go with you.” She asked again, and the door to the medic’s room opened, revealing two of the twili and the other light dweller she didn’t know.

“We’re going too!” The light dweller exclaimed, and Zelda shook her head.

“N-no, Hoz, you—”

“It’s like you said before, my queen. I need to retreat and make a plan so that I may strike again!” The light dweller, Hoz, pumped his fist. “I’m going to rescue my men that I abandoned and the rest of the missing people, just like you ordered!”

The other two twili stepped up, each one bowing to Midna.

“My name is Nerc,” a rounder looking one introduced himself. “This is my friend Turk. We wish to help save the rest of our city! Please let us go with you!”

Midna frowned, looking between each person and sighing. “I can’t ask that of you. You’ve already been through so much.”

Nerc smiled, bowing slightly. “We have, but it has strengthened us. I am a skilled kargarok flier and can help in any way that I can. But I cannot sit back and let the remaining survivors suffer while I am here. Please, my queen, let me go with you!”

Turk bowed as well, his hands clasped together to beg. Midna frowned, looking between the two twili, then at Zelda and Hoz.

“But… you’re all injured.”

“No, luckily it’s just me.”

Rusl suddenly appeared at the door, his arms crossed and leaning against the frame. He had a smirk on his face and nodded at Midna. “You’ll want them with you, Midna. Trust me.”

Midna frowned, still feeling hesitant, but if he felt confident, then surely they would be fine, right? She smiled slightly at Rusl, walking up close to him and resting her hands on his shoulders. “Will you… watch over Kori? K–keep him safe… from… everything?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, her expression pleading as she stared into his icy-blue eyes. Rusl’s gaze softened and he nodded.

“Nothing will happen to him, Midna. I promise.”

Midna let out a small sigh, nodding back at him and turning to the others, giving them a firm and commanding look.

“Alright,” she agreed, gesturing for them to follow. “If you all want to come so bad, then I won’t stop you.” She turned towards the hallway, gesturing for them to follow. “Let’s go kill a beast.”

#love at twilight #twilight princess #midlink #fankid #Zelda oc #Zelda ocs #smiles writes #Kori #so sorry this is late!#hope you guys like it regardless 😊#we’re nearing the end here!#legend of Zelda #legend of Zelda au #Zelda au #thank you for beta reading as always bearie

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insidekatmind · 5 hours ago

Text

Guard~Seong Gi-hun

Wearning: slight smut, tension, age-gap

Request: yes!

They call you Guard 0672. Your identity is hidden behind the red mask and dark uniform that all your colleagues wear. You are one of the most reliable guards, personally chosen by the Frontman for your nerves of steel and total discretion.

But your current assignment is different. You are not guarding the games or patrolling the corridors. You have been sent to guard a special prisoner.

Gi-hun.

His name is whispered with hatred and contempt among the guards. He dared to rebel against the system, causing chaos that no one expected. And for this he was captured and chained in a cold and sterile room, far from the rest of the games. The Frontman himself gave you the order to watch over him, and every day, every night, you are the one who enters there, watching over him, making sure he cannot escape or cause further trouble.

When you enter the room, the metallic sound of the lock clicking echoes in the air. Gi-hun raises his head, his dark eyes scrutinizing you with suspicion and weariness. He is tied to the wall with steel chains on his wrists, but his spirit still seems alive, vibrant.

“You again,” he says hoarsely. “Do you enjoy observing the suffering of others or is it just another duty for you?”

You don’t answer. You are trained to remain silent, to be a blank and detached presence. But there is something in his eyes, in the way he looks at you as if he can see beyond your mask, that unsettles you.

The visits follow one another, day after day. Each time you find him a little more tired, a little more angry. And yet, each time he manages to throw you those contemptuous jokes, that constant challenge. As if he were trying to break your indifference.

“Are you always this quiet?” he asks one day, his voice softer than usual. “Or are you forbidden to speak?”

“It’s not my job to speak.” Your voice is cold, mechanical, but it’s the first time you’ve answered him.

His eyes widen for a moment, then he smiles, a tired but genuine smile. “So you can talk. I thought you were a robot.”

His determination to try to communicate with you, even in the most desperate conditions, begins to chip away at your defenses. Your professionalism cracks a little every time you see him trying to maintain his humanity.

One night, during one of your shifts, Gi-hun seems frailer, his skin paler under the harsh light of the cell. “I’m going to die here, right?” he asks. There’s no anger in his voice this time, just a weariness that hits you harder than it should.

Your fingers tighten around the assault rifle you keep with you for safety. You hesitate, and that hesitation is already an answer.

“What are you doing here?” he asks then, with genuine curiosity. “Why are you following orders that make your soul shut down? You’re just another pawn, like me.”

His voice is harsh, but sincere. His words reach deep into you, chipping away at the shell of detachment you’ve so carefully constructed. You watch him, unable to respond. And you realize he’s not trying to provoke you. He’s trying to understand.

The visits continue, and with them, an intensity grows between you. Something you can no longer ignore. One evening, as you adjust the chain that binds his wrists, his fingers brush your hand. It’s a light touch, accidental perhaps, but the heat of his skin against yours is like an electric shock. You hold your breath, surprised by how much such a simple gesture can shake you.

“There’s still something alive in you,” he murmurs, his voice closer and lower. “Something that doesn’t belong here.”

You look at him, your heart beating too hard in your chest. You know you shouldn’t let anyone get past your mask, but with him it becomes harder every day.

And when your eyes meet, the air between you thickens, filled with a tension that goes beyond simple confrontation. It’s something else. Something more dangerous.

You stand still, caught between the urge to step back and the inexplicable need to stay there, to feel again the subtle touch of his fingers. His words echo in your mind, and it’s as if he can reach into your soul.

“You’re mistaken,” you finally manage to say, trying to keep your usual coldness, but your voice betrays a hint of the turmoil within you.

Gi-hun looks at you intently. It feels like he can see past your stoic demeanor, see the person behind the mask. And he seems to like what he sees.

There's a hint of a smile on his lips, and it hits you like a punch because you shouldn't be thinking these things, you shouldn't feel this way.

He takes a step forward, his chains clanking. “Then tell me something," he says, his eyes fixed on yours. "What is your name?”

His question throws you off balance. It’s against the rules, against everything you are trained for. Giving him anything, even your name, is a vulnerability, a crack in your armor. But you can’t look away from his gaze.

The silence stretches between you, the only sound the rhythmic pulse of your own heart, beating faster than it should.

Finally, you answer, your voice barely above a whisper, "Y/n."

The sound of your name in your own voice, given to someone you should treat only as a prisoner, feels like an act of rebellion.

Gi-hun repeats your name softly, as if tasting it. "Y/n," he says, rolling it on his tongue. "It suits you."

His eyes don't leave yours as he takes another step forward, his body straining against the chains that bind him. The space between you decreases dangerously, and the thought of stepping back seems so far away.

You can feel his breath on your skin, warm and close. The electric tension between you is palpable, crackling like an open fire.

“Y/n," he says again, and how can your name sound so sexy when he says it like that? The way it rolls off his tongue, each syllable like a caress.

You feel like you’re drowning, losing yourself in his gaze. You know you should be alert, that any moment someone could come to check on him. But it's as if the world outside doesn't exist. There's only him and you, caught in this strange game of attraction and tension.His wrists struggle against the handcuffs, the muscles in his arms flexing under the skin, and it’s a sight that steals your breath away.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispers, his face so close to yours that you can count his eyelashes.

You mentally thanked yourself that you had the mask that still left you feeling cold. You nodded. His eyes fixed on yours, and he spoke so softly that his words seemed like a secret just for you.

He leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear. "I’ve been watching you," he whispered. "Since the first time you came into this cell."

Your heart skipped a beat. His words were unexpected, and the intimacy of his confession was overwhelming.

His eyes never left yours, holding your gaze as he continued. "I see the way you move, the way you look at me, even though you try to hide it behind that cold expression."

The space between you was practically non-existent now. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his skin so close to yours.

His voice, barely above a whisper, sent chills down your spine. "You’re different from the others," he said. "You’re not just a guard. You’re something more."

The air in the cell seemed charged, crackling with the tension between you. It was an almost magnetic pull, a force that kept you drawn to him.

His gaze was intense, his every word, every gesture carrying a weight that you couldn’t ignore. "I’ve seen things in your eyes," he continued, "behind that mask, that tell me there’s a real person in there. But you hide yourself so deeply."

You wanted to step back, to distance yourself from this dangerous feeling. But you couldn't. You were caught in the intensity of the moment, the raw emotion in his voice.

“You're like a puzzle," he said, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of your mask, almost touching your skin. "And I want to solve you."

The sensation of his fingertips against the mask sent a shiver down your spine. It was a touch that held more emotion than you wanted to acknowledge.

His gaze was like a flame, burning through the barriers you had set up, making you feel vulnerable yet strangely alive in his presence. "You've been observing me this whole time?" you asked, your voice hardly above a whisper.

His eyes seemed to see straight into your soul. "Every second," he answered, his words so sincere they stung. "Even when you don't think I'm looking."

It was a declaration of his interest in you, a confession that left you with more questions than answers. You felt exposed under his gaze, your walls crumbling in ways you hadn't expected.

He leaned a little closer, his breath mingling with yours. The chains on his wrists were the only thing separating your bodies.

"But I don't just observe, I listen," he said. "Your footsteps, your breathing. They speak more than words ever could."

Your breathing under the mask becomes heavier as you watch him.

He seemed to notice the erratic rhythm of your breathing, the rapid rise and fall of your chest. His eyes softened, as if he understood the effect he was having on you.

"See?" he murmured. "Your breathing speaks volumes."

His words were like a caress, his gaze like a physical touch, sending more shivers through your body.Your cheeks flushed under the mask, a heat that you couldn’t contain. You were caught in a vortex of emotions, torn between wanting to push him away and wanting to get even closer.

He seemed to sense your conflict. “You’re fighting yourself," he said. “But you don’t have to with me.”

The sincerity in his words was as alluring as it was terrifying. He was asking for your trust, for you to open up to him. But it meant giving him power over you, making yourself vulnerable to another person. And that was something you had learned to avoid.

You were like a wild animal, trapped between the need to flee and the desire to surrender."Trust is a dangerous thing," you said, your voice quiet but firm, an attempt to regain control.

Gi-hun nodded, a hint of a sad smile on his lips. "I know," he said. "But it’s also the only thing that can save us from this emptiness."

His words echoed within you, stirring long-buried emotions. Maybe he was right. Maybe there was a risk worth taking.

The chains on his wrists jangled as he tried to reach for you, but the binds wouldn’t allow him to go any further. His fingers stopped just short of touching your face, but you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

“I can't touch you," he said, frustration evident in his voice. "Not here. Not how I want."His gaze was intense, a mix of desire and helplessness. The fact that he couldn't reach for you, that the chains held him back, only heightened the tension between you.

"It’s dangerous," you warned, your voice faltering. "I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't be talking to you like this. If anyone finds out..."

He nodded, a shadow of understanding crossing his face. "I know the risks," he said. "Believe me, I do. But the only thing I can feel in this place is you."

The gravity of his words hit you like a wave. He was confessing something deeper, giving words to sensations that you had been trying to bury.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it harder to speak. "You don't even know me," you said, but it was a weak protest, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head gently, a trace of a smile playing on his lips. "I know more than you think," he said. "I see who you really are behind that mask."

His words were a dagger aimed directly at your heart. How could he see through you so easily, see things you had tried to keep hidden from the world, even from yourself?

"Even your breathing speaks volumes," he repeated, his gaze fixed on you, intense and unyielding. "I know the effect I have on you, whether you want to admit it or not."

You felt the air leaving that mask and you wanted to take it off to eliminate the last distance between you two. It was a ridiculous thought, an impulsive and dangerous one. To remove the mask in front of him was to reveal your true self, to give him a power over you that you had fought to keep at bay.

Yet, the desire to feel his skin against yours, to drop all the barriers, was almost overwhelming. You could see the same desire mirrored in his eyes, a shared but unspoken need to be seen, to touch.

"You want to take off the mask, don't you?" he said, almost as if reading your mind.His words, uttered with a hint of challenge, shook you to the core. He had read you so well, understood the conflict inside you so accurately. You hated it... and yet, you couldn't deny it anymore.

The conflict within you was reaching a breaking point. Your professional demeanor, your training, the safety of the mask, and the voice inside that warned you to stay away all fought against the growing need to be closer to him, to feel his skin against yours.

His eyes watched you, the intensity and sincerity in them holding you captive. "Don't be afraid," he whispered, his words a gentle coaxing. "Don't hide behind the mask."

The command in his voice did things to you that you didn't want to admit. It was a plea, a command, a request, all wrapped up in one. Your mind was a turmoil of conflicting desires - to cling to your solitude and to surrender to his gaze.

His words echoed in your head and you reached for your mask, your fingers trembling as they touched the straps.You hesitated, and every second of that hesitation felt like an eternity. Your fingers on the strap trembled, a battle warring within you. His gaze was like a magnet, drawing you closer to him even as your heart warned you to stay away.

Every fiber of your being wanted to let go. But the voice of self-preservation, the voice that had shielded you thus far, still held you back.

"Don't think about it," he said, as if reading your mind again. "Just let go."

The low, soft command in his voice was enough to make your heart skip a beat. There was an undertone of desire, of need in his tone, and it broke down your barriers more than any amount of persuading could.

Your heart was a drumbeat, deafening in your ears. Every rational thought, every warning from your mind was silenced by the look in his eyes, by the magnetic pull that seemed to draw you to him. You felt exposed and yet, you wanted to surrender to the feeling.Your fingers fumbled with the mask, each movement agonizingly slow. Every moment it clung to your face was torture, a barrier between you and the touch of his skin.

His eyes never left your face, watching intently as your fingers pulled the straps loose. The mask loosened around your face, falling halfway, revealing your lips.

The air in the room felt charged as his gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips, and you felt vulnerable, unguarded, yet strangely powerful under his attention. His breath caught as your face became more fully visible, and you could sense the desire growing in him.

His gaze traced every line and contour of your features, as if committing the sight to memory.

"You're even more beautiful without the mask," he murmured, his voice a low, reverential utterance.

The words were like flattery, but the sincerity in his tone made them feel more like a declaration. You felt yourself warming up under his gaze, a heat coursing through your body that had nothing to do with the room.

You stood there, the last defense of your mask discarded, the final guard stripped away under his gaze. You were raw, exposed, yet you felt strangely alive, hyper-aware of the fact that he was the only one who has seen you like this.

The chains rattled as he shifted, trying to get closer to you. They held him back, a cruel reminder of the reality of your situation.

"I want to touch you," he said, his voice a ragged whisper. "I want to know if you feel as good as you look."There was a note of pleading in his voice, a hunger that echoed in your own body. The desire to be touched, to be desired, was overwhelming, and the knowledge that he wanted you so badly only heightened the sensation.

His eyes never left yours, his gaze burning with an intensity that made your blood boil. His words, his presence, everything about him felt consuming, like a fire that burned away all the doubts, leaving only the raw, primal need.

"I've never felt this way," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need you."The weight of his words settled on you like a physical touch, echoing in your chest, and you realized that your need for him was just as potent. The walls you had built, the barriers you had put up all crumbled under the force of your combined desire.

His wrists pulled against the chains, a desperate attempt to reach for you. The sound of his frustration, the clinking of metal, was a sharp counterpoint to the quiet tension that filled the room.

"Let me touch you," he begged, his voice rough with need. "Please."His words were like music to your ears, a symphony that reverberated through your body. His need for you was not just physical, but emotional, and the realization hit you hard. You wanted to give in, to let him touch you, to end this torturous desire.

Your body was responding to his words, to the raw need in his eyes, a heat spreading through you that you couldn't control. You took a step closer, your knees threatening to buckle under the weight of your own desire.

The space between you shrank with every step, the air crackling with an electric current that seemed to pull you both together. His body strained against the chains, his muscles flexing as he exerted all his strength to reach for you.“If I untie you, promise me you won't make any attempt to escape,” you whispered.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a mix of surprise and urgency in them. "I promise," he said, his voice hoarse with suppressed need. "I just want to touch you."The sincerity in his words, the ache in his tone, was undeniable.

You nodded, your mind racing with excitement and fear. Trusting him was a dangerous move, one that could end in disaster, but the desire to feel his touch was overpowering.

You moved cautiously towards him, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached for the chains. With swift, practiced motions, you began to loosen the bindings around his wrists.

As the chains fell away, you both waited a moment, frozen in anticipation. He flexed his wrists, as if savoring the returning freedom. Then, slowly, he reached out, his hand hovering just millimeters from your face.The touch was like sparks igniting on your skin, a sensation that made your heart thud in your chest. His fingers traced along your jawline, his touch as gentle as if you were made of glass. His gaze never left yours, his breath catching as he felt your skin for the first time.

The intimacy of the moment was almost overwhelming. His touch was like a drug, sending waves of pleasure through your body with each brush of his fingertips. You felt like you were drowning, your senses saturated with him.

His hand moved down, tracing the contour of your neck, the hollow of your collarbone. Every nerve in your body seemed to ignite under his touch.

You look at him with desire and without thinking, you climb astride him. As you straddled him, his eyes widened in surprise, then darkened with desire. He looked up at you, his gaze roaming over your body hungrily, his hands shifting to grip your thighs, holding you in place.

The tension between you was palpable, the air around you charged with the electricity of your shared need. Your skin felt hot where he touched you, a fire burning within you that only he could ignite. His grip on your thighs was tight, his fingers digging into your flesh as if he would never let go.

You caressed his cheeks, then his jaw, and then you kissed him.

Your lips met his, and it was like a dam breaking. The contact was electric, igniting a thousand sparks in your body. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, his touch desperate and rough.The kiss deepened, a fusion of desire and need exploding between you. His lips were soft, yet demanding, and you could feel his hunger, his urgency in each movement.

His hands began to move, roaming up your body, tracing every curve with a possessiveness that thrilled you. It was like he was committing every inch of you to memory. His fingers found the exposed skin between your uniform and your skin, and the touch was like wildfire, leaving you gasping against his mouth.

He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged, his gaze locking onto yours. "You have no idea how crazy you're driving me," he murmured, his thumb tracing the contour of your bottom lip.His voice was low, hoarse with desire, and the raw emotion behind it made your heart skip a beat. "I've been dreaming about this," he confessed, his hands moving over your body as if they couldn't get enough of you. "About touching you, tasting you...having you."

You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the need rolling off him in waves. His fingers dipped under the edge of your uniform, finding more skin, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "You're so much better than I ever imagined," he rasped, his lips brushing your neck, finding a sensitive spot that made you shiver.

His mouth traced a path along your neck, his kisses turning harder, more possessive. You felt like you were coming undone under his touch, like every barrier you'd erected around yourself was crumbling with every press of his lips. His body was hard against yours, his muscles coiled taut with desire.

His hands were everywhere, exploring your body as if he could never get enough. His fingers traced the curves of your waist, your hips, your thighs, his touch leaving a trail of fire that spread through you. He pulled you closer, pressing you against him, and you could feel the evidence of his desire, the hard, hot proof of his need.

You start kissing his jaw as you grind against his erection.

He let out a groan, the sound rough and needy, as you kissed along his jaw. His hands left your thighs, shifting to grip the edge of the cot, digging his fingers into the soft material as if trying to anchor himself to reality.

At that moment your walkie talkie hears a voice, saying that he needed you to control other players. The sudden sound of the walkie-talkie shattered the intensity of the moment like a cold splash of water. You paused, frustration and irritation mingling with desire as you realized you were being called away.

"I'm coming sir," you said to the walkie talkie.

You looked at Gi-hun and gave him one last kiss before chaining him up again.

His gaze followed you as you stepped back, his expression a mix of disappointment and resignation. The moment had been interrupted, but the tension between you still hung heavy in the air. You forced yourself to step back, to regain control of your emotions as you tightened the chains around him once more.

He watched you in silence, his eyes dark and intense, the air around him still charged with the aftermath of your touch.

You put your mask back on and walked to the door. "I'll be back," you said and gave him one last look before walking away.

He nodded, his gaze still fixed on you as you walked away, leaving him behind once again. His expression was stoic, but you could see the disappointment in his eyes as you shut the door, locking him back into isolation.

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