#// Nothing would prepare me for that series ever it was a journey I want to crawl in a hole ommmmmmhggg many thoughts right nwow

[tvbles]

Finished the Metempsychosis series (a fanfic) and no words can express how I feel right now, holy fuck.

#tb spamtxt #// As a shuyuu centric fic I’m bawling my eyes out #// Nothing would prepare me for that series ever it was a journey I want to crawl in a hole ommmmmmhggg many thoughts right nwow

[bakugoushotwife]

inextricable p3 Sasuke xFem!Uchiha!Reader)

a/n: thank you guys for your patience in waiting on this last part! I will be releasing the angst ending later today and will link it to this post for convenience later!! i also have to thank you for voting in how this part should turn out and overall even reading these!! this has by far been my favorite series and makes me want to do more in the future! also also, I was thinking about making this expandable if I get more requests, so you can request specific moments for the Uchiha Princess like Kakashi finding out she's pregnant or more on Sasuke and Y/N's stay in the Sand!

cw: violence, death, fighting, mentions of sex nothing crazy, pregnancy, etc. not proofread so shoot me

wc: 17, 212

part one // part two

He was thinking about you. He wondered what you would think if you could see him like this, teeming with rage and anguish. Ever since he was told about the truth, since he shared that truth with you, he hasn’t been able to stop the rage brewing inside him. He watched his brother die, he helped kill him. He endured three days worth of suffering in his brother’s genjutsu, watching helplessly as his parents died over and over. His brain was so damaged when they found him, it took a Tsunade miracle to piece him back together. He lost his best friend, separated in order for him to foster this hatred in order to carry out this revenge. He has done what his brother wanted: he has activated his mangekyo and stalked the man with the most to do with assigning Itachi this mission. Yet still, he yearns for your company. He wants you to see the man that wrecked your life too. He wants to help get your revenge too. But you’ve always been so much calmer, he guesses that was Kakashi’s influence. Would you join him in this crusade? No. You’ve tried to talk him off the ledge several times, you would be appalled with his behavior. That realization hurts a little bit, hurts in a different way than everything else. Itachi engineered him to be a being of hate, knowing that someone would stop him from going too far. Does he think Kakashi or Naruto have the capability? Did Itachi prepare for that person to be you?

He knows that the newly-recognized Hokage Danzo will be in the Land of Iron, that all five kage would be in fact. He didn’t initially plan on a visit to the Leaf, but the opportunity to see you again weighed heavily on him. He just wanted a chance to talk to you in person. To try and convince you one last time to join his revenge tour. He could teach you more and keep you safer than Kakashi can. You are the last of the Uchiha, you are inextricably bound to him. He needs you, this is meant to be a journey for two. You would come to him this time, he’s sure. You may disagree with his methods, but he remembers you swearing your allegiance to him, telling him with big teary eyes how much you missed him. Surely that would outweigh any anger you have. That’s why he sent Madara ahead to scope you out in the Leaf, to make sure you were safe and well cared for. So imagine the surprise, the pride, the wide amalgamation of anxiety and something close to fear that Sasuke experiences whenever Madara comes back to report the antithesis of what he had expected. 

“The Sharingan Princess is not in the Leaf.” 

Sasuke’s head whipped toward the masked man. “What? Not in the Leaf? Where is she?” He asks in rapid succession, getting to his feet. 

Madara held his hands up in uncertainty. “Who’s to say? She seems to be cloaking her chakra very cleverly. She’s been listed as a deserter in the Bingo Books.” 

Sasuke narrows his eyes in confusion, his mind reeling. He couldn’t figure out what would make you leave so suddenly, he hadn’t had the chance to speak with you in months, too focused on his plans. Had you become so worried you came to look for him? “Were you able to find out why she left?” He asks in more of a statement, expecting the man to provide more information. 

You could hear the smile in the masked man’s deep voice. “Pain attacked the Leaf. It seems many died in the initial attack, including your lady's father. Naruto Uzumaki was able to get Nagato to reno-rebirth them all, but it seems our Green Goddess of the Leaf left before that happened. They haven’t seen her since. Naruto Uzumaki keeps making efforts to find her, no luck. It’s believed that Y/N Uchiha has obtained the Mangekyo Sharingan with an ability similar to Shisui’s dangerous Kotoamatsukami.”

Sasuke’s rendered speechless. You’ve been on the run for several months, with Mangekyo powers and with a renewed sense of hatred? He had to find you. His mission to the Iron seemed incomplete now, and he couldn’t risk the Leaf finding you first. He glanced at the other members of his team and sighed. 

“We have to find her first.”  

Madara chuckled. “No need. It seems the Last Uchiha Princess was searching for you, and found you indeed.” He says, stepping aside to reveal your form. Time slowed to a stop, he swears. Your hair had returned to its full black, all the traces of dye long gone. The moon’s beams gave you an angelic glow. Your shinobi headband was gone .Two swords crisscrossed in sheaths on your back. Your eyes shined the color of blood, the symbol of your Mangekyo made his lips spread into a grin. You were beautiful, just as he knew you would be from his crows over their many visits. Revenge and anger flowed through you freely, and he thought that looked good on you. 

A girl with bright red hair and eyes stepped forward with her arms crossed. She looked at you with malice. Your eyes snapped to her. “Whatever you’re thinking about saying to me, don’t.” 

Sasuke nearly chuckles. Your presence was like medicine, and he was relieved to know your ferocity remained intact. 

Karin frowned at your words, and the shark-featured boy next to her giggled lightly. “Oh don’t mind her, Y/N,” He says, as if you’re old friends, “She’s probably just wondering how you found us.”

“I could detect Sasuke’s chakra even if he repressed it to zero.” You reply flatly. “Plus, I ran into this guy and followed him back up here.” You add, still eyeing the girl analyzing you. Her eyes flickered back to Sasuke, who was watching you carefully. You smirk at her, tracking her eyes. “Hey, girl.” You chuckle, the smile on your face vicious, eyes crazy. “Don’t try it.” You say as sweetly as you can manage, clapping her on the shoulder and moving towards your old friend. 

She frowns, the smile on Sasuke’s face as you come closer was unmistakable mostly because he had never smiled so widely before. Suigetsu elbows her, distracting her from watching your every move. 

Your smile wasn’t missable either, and you did have to repress the urge to wrap your arms around him and cry out in relief. However, given the reputation you’ve both acquired, it would be in bad taste. It’s been years, four to be exact, since you last laid eyes on him. He’s perfect, tall and well-built. Your cheeks grow warmer as you realize just how beautiful he has grown. It’s also like no time has passed, his chakra presence putting your nervous heart at ease. He holds his hand out with a small half-smile. You never look away from his eyes as you gently place your palm in his. You turn your eyes off, returning his tiny grin. The moment felt intimate despite all the other people gathered in the hideout. The truth was the two of you had been imagining this moment for years, wondering when you’d find yourselves together again. He looked at you gently, with all the love left in his mangled dark heart. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” You say plainly, you’re both walking a fine line of collapsing into all your emotions and showing none at all. You felt vulnerable, and in front of Sasuke that was alright, but in front of all these new and dangerous Akatsuki members, you wanted to look strong. Because you are, the months that passed proved fruitful for your talents. 

“I’m glad you’re okay.” He adds after, his thumb stroking the back of your hand mindlessly. 

“It’s good to see you safe.” You say, essentially the same message. We’re alive and back together. 

He makes a nervous chuckle of some sort. He thought it was interesting that you considered him safe, he was a rogue nin and now you were too. “I’m..sorry. About Kakashi.”

Your grip on his hand loosened momentarily. The memory of his death flashes before your eyes and you're forcing yourself to smile gratefully. “I appreciate it…it truly was the last straw.” 

“Do you think he would support you?” Sasuke asks, more out of own curiosity since he knows that Kakashi is alive. He feared you finding this information out, would you flock back to him? 

You nod. “Kakashi specifically asked me to leave the village just before he was killed. I have to believe that he knew I would come to you.” You answer truthfully, able to talk yourself into believing that your adoptive father’s support and love for you could never waver. 

He hums at your response. Perhaps you were right, it was a calculated risk that the Sensei took on his deathbed. It was desperate, but it made sense. Kakashi knows you well, he knew the craving for revenge that brewed in your heart and he wanted you to satiate it safely. Maybe he knew that the other Uchiha would never hurt you, maybe he just hoped that was the case. Either way, Kakashi would be stupid to think you wouldn’t search for the only other person that mattered to you. 

“How did you find my chakra?” 

You smirk again, proud of yourself. “I’ve told you, dear Sasuke, I’m very strong.” 

He matches your expression, knowing that with his Mangekyo where it was as of now, you were probably just as prodigious as him. “I know you’re powerful, Y/N. I want to know the specifics.”

“I have insane chakra control and tracking abilities from my senseis.” You say, moving your bangs to show him the seal on your forehead. “I found an old friend of yours…name’s Kabuto.” You share with a shrug, watching Sasuke raise his eyebrow in interest. “He told me about Danzo...the man that ruined our lives. Apparently there’s a Kage Summit in the Iron, I knew you’d be around here somewhere. I could sense all the chakra pooling and then I saw Madara standing down there, almost like he knew I was coming.” 

“Interesting indeed, I wonder why Kabuto felt inclined to help you.” He says, truly just wondering out loud. 

“Same reason anyone does, power. He’ll be an issue later.” 

Sasuke is markedly impressed. You had a variety of different talents and abilities, and though you may never be as strong as he was, he doubts many could ever be as strong as you are. And for a time, you were inarguably stronger. He was glad he never sparred with you. Your prowess in most fields made you borderline invincible. Perhaps Kakashi was no slouch after all. 

“You’ve unlocked your Mangekyo.” He states, but his brow is raised like he wants you to add further comment. 

You nod, hand still in his warm one, eyes still locked. “Kakashi’s death.” 

He nods, the intensity of his gaze makes you feel like a precious jewel under his microscope. “I see. Your abilities?”

“Similar to Shisui’s. I don’t have full blown mind control, but I can move the body and speak with the mouth. They usually don’t remember anything that happens.” You reply with a broad grin, now this was something you definitely were proud of. "My other eye lets me cast my jutsu effects on others. So if I put someone in a genjutsu, they see my delayed sense on me and whoever I touch."

Once again he has to fight a chuckle. It felt weird, the odd rhythm of his heart as he looked at you with such fondness unfamiliar to everyone else. The other Akatsuki decided to give you some time to catch up, much to Karin’s dismay. They went to make preparations for their short journey into the Iron. This left the two of you standing alone in a cliffside cave, staring at each other in hopes it said everything you wanted to say. 

“Have you performed a susano’o yet?” He wonders where the limits of your expertise were without Kakashi there to guide you. 

You shake your head. “I haven’t needed to, you know how it goes.”

He nods. “That’s good, but you’ll need it soon.” He says with a hint of his familiar arrogance. 

It makes you smile this time though, and you nod in agreement. “Alright, noted.” You hum, your smile so warm and genuine that it’s hard for him to imagine you as you were when you entered the cave. He takes time to admire your features, the arch of your brow and the pink dusting your cheeks. He notices the stress lines forming under your eyes, which makes him frown. But mostly he notices the purple headband on top of your dark hair and the purple earrings you wear, complete with purple bracelets. It was interesting, your clothes all black, he felt the need to comment his thoughts. 

“I thought I was purple and you were green?” He asks, the ode to childhood seemingly out of place given your current conversation of power. 

You touch the headband with your free hand, almost like you knew that’s why he said anything at all. “Oh. I guess I was. I just like the familiarity of purple.” 

The sentiment in your voice hits him like a ton of bricks. He had noticed the headband before, thinking it was some sort of reminder of him. But it ran much deeper than that, the headband was your prized possession. It gave you lines to both Sasuke and Kakashi, made you feel close to them. You needed no reminder of him, you needed a connection. He thinks of the way his chest tightened every time he saw something in the same deep green of your tricycle, the same shade of your chakra, the bright lime. It put your face in his mind each time it happened. His hand squeezes yours, suddenly refocused on the lack of a normal childhood he had, you had, what you two could have had together. 

“We’ll kill him. For Itachi, for Shisui.” 

You nod. “For our parents, for the entire clan.” 

Naruto slams his fist on the wall, clearly frustrated and guilty. He can’t find you. He can’t find Sasuke, though, even he is smart enough to assume you two are together. Losing Sasuke crushed him. He loved him like his own brother, even though he never really knew how that felt. He saw Sasuke’s strength and wanted to surpass it, make a name for himself and become Hokage. But how could he do that if he can’t protect the people he loves? Losing you was a devastating blow. You were family, his love for you hard to quantify. You were the sunshine of Konoha, how could you leave? 

Kakashi insists it’s his fault, though it’s easy to see his grief wearing on him. He told you to leave the village. At that point, he was scared for your life. He just wanted you to get away, preferably finding Naruto. He should have been smarter than that, but in that moment of weakness he’s able to admit he thought about the possibility of you going to Sasuke. He wasn’t angry, nor would he say he’s necessarily disappointed. It’s hard to put a name on this feeling, other than guilt. He’s sad, and he’s worried about what this means for the future, but he knows if you were here right now he would sigh with relief and hug you close. 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Naruto.” Kakashi breathes, trying to hold tightly to the students he had left. He can see how this weighs heavily on the young man, his face tightened up as he tried not to scream and cry. 

“My friends! What have I learned if I can’t even keep my friends in the village?!” 

“It has nothing to do with you, Naruto..” Kakashi says in comfort, his own heart panging at the sentiment. What kind of Dad am I if I can’t keep her in the village? “They…have their own troubles to deal with. In time, we will get them back. I don’t think he’ll hurt her.” Kakashi adds, hoping to ease some of Naruto’s worries.

The blond widens his eyes, looking at the last teammate. “He’s tried to kill Sakura twice!” 

“He won’t.” Kakashi repeats, more sternly this time, trying to convey a message behind the simple statement. He was trying to say, ‘Yeah, well, Sakura isn’t his childhood friend and last lady Uchiha either. She doesn’t matter to him the same way Y/N does.’ 

Naruto’s lips tightened in a thin line, seemingly dissatisfied with Kakashi’s urgency. “Aren’t you worried sick? She’s an enemy of the village now!”

This was true, as a deserter there were no exceptions. Classified as a SS threat, there was nothing he could do to lower your profile now. All you had were enemies, in a way, Kakashi was hoping you did make it to Sasuke. He tried to sway Tsunade, explaining that he told you to leave, but it was no use. The Lady Hokage was visibly upset by this as well, a mentor to you in your teenage years. He knew it would take work, but he knew he could get you admitted back into the village after some time. Even if you had to serve a small sentence, it would be better than living as a rogue nin for all your days. He only wished there was a way to find you, but you knew how to hide. He had taught you. And you didn’t even know he was alive, if only he could talk to you. 

“Of course I’m worried about her future, but I’m not worried about her safety at the moment. It would be wiser to come up with some sort of plan.” 

“Go on, take it.” Your best friend says, holding out a red crane fashioned from folded paper. He had made you all kinds of things, a paper purple  rose, a gray elephant, an orange cat. He never looked you in the eye when he handed you the little trinket, almost like he was embarrassed. 

You smile softly, gently taking the bird from him and inspecting it. He really was quite good at origami, and you wondered when he learned how to do this. “Thank you Sasuke.”

“Mm.” He grunts in acknowledgement, fingers busy working on yet another paper craft. 

“I wish I knew how to make you something, I feel so useless over here.” You chuckle, setting the crane down next to his other creations. 

He sighed, like it was a dumb thing to say. “You are giving me something.”

You hum in amusement, thinking about what he could mean. You two rarely spoke in lengthy flows, much of your communication was non-verbal or through a system of subtle noises. “I’m stumped.”

He looks into your eyes this time, and slides his latest design across the mountain-side hideout floor.You arch your brow and notice the light shade of pink dusting his cheeks and nose bridge. You look down at his symbol of affection, a green paper heart under your fingers. 

“You came to me, that’s quite the gift.” 

It’s your turn to heat up. You knew you couldn’t tease him like your first instinct is to, since he’s being so vulnerable, but it also made you feel a tad exposed. “You have a point there.” You hum, deciding to combine both approaches. “Does this mean this qualifies as the date you said you would take me on when you saw me again?”

It’s no wonder that neither of you are well versed in the language of feelings and human emotion. All you knew was that Sasuke meant more to you than anyone in the world. 

A couple beats of silence pass, and he hums in approval. “Yes.”

The three of you stand on the bridge, carefully watching as Danzo Shimura unravels the heavy bandaging around his arm. When he drops the gauze, Karin gasps. His right arm was riddled with the sharingan of your dead clan. Your eyes narrow in anger, the pit in your stomach impossible to ignore. These are the deep seeds of hatred, and you are letting them grow. Sasuke’s eyes widen and then squint in disgust, the stare in his eyes as dark as they come. 

His regular sharingan analyzed the mutative arm his enemy possessed, and with a menacing tone he asked, “How did you get those eyes in your right arm?”

Danzo looked unbothered, the eye visible to his challengers closed, the other side bandaged up in similar fashion to his arm. It made you feel as if he were hiding more of your clan’s eyes under there. You searched to find Shisui’s, determined to take it back, but you couldn’t see it easily. That was to be expected, your brother’s Kotoamatsukami was easily one of the most powerful Mangekyo abilities to be had, and your training on your own had discovered it was much the same. You could now influence thoughts as well as control the body, you could choose when to release it, and it was only penetrable by other genjutsu. Still, it would be nice to have your brother’s eyes back in your family and usable for your Eternal Mangekyo. It was clear either way that the man before the Last of the Uchiha severely underestimated the power of each of you individually. 

“Through various means, it would take too long to describe.” He answers nonchalantly. 

“Any explanation would have upset me more.” Sasuke says with a stern frown. He closes his eyes. “Forget it. I’ve decided to kill you. Y/N, stay back unless I need you.” He says, to which you nod affirmatively. You would step in if his chakra was running out, as your chakra control and storage made you tireless. He nods back, satisfied with your answer. “Before that, let me ask one thing: Is it true that Itachi Uchiha eliminated our clan by order of the Elders?”

Danzo doesn’t respond. He simply starts weaving hand signs and staring blankly at him, and then he runs. He sprints full speed straight at Sasuke, reeling his arm back for a chakra packed punch. It’s stopped by a purple wall of Sasuke’s chakra. 

“Part of a susano’o..” You wonder softly aloud. 

Danzo stumbles back in surprise. The fist of Sasuke’s summons sweeps Danzo into the air and threatens to crush him. 

“So this is the Susano’o.” The old man groans, obviously struggling for breath in this chakra hold. The fist starts to squeeze inward. You’re standing off to the side, not quite able to read Sasuke’s expression, but his raised voice tells you everything you need to know. 

“I’m going to ask one more time. Is it true that Itachi Uchiha eliminated my clan by order of the Elders?” His voice thunders, larger than you’ve ever heard before. 

Danzo looks at you, clearly unfocused on Sasuke’s line of questioning. 

“I’m asking if it’s true!” Sasuke roars again, demanding his attention. The Susano’o’s fist tightens once more, and you’re sure Danzo’s bones will start to break soon. You smile at this, knowing it is kinder than what he deserves. Danzo grunts out, the pain clear. “Answer me!” 

“I–I didn’t think he was that kind of man.” The Leaf’s Hokage says with a trace of disgust. Sasuke gasps softly at his words. “Damn Itachi. I see he revealed everything to you before he died. As I thought it seems that you are truly special, that younger sister of Shisui as well.”

Sasuke seems stunned, lost in thought momentarily. You’re thinking of the night of the massacre, what Itachi said to him then. He made hate his driving emotion in hopes of this, this revenge that’s happening right before your very eyes. He built Sasuke himself, pushing him as far as he could go to increase his power. Did he do this for you as well? Did he know that you would become such a powerhouse yourself, was he expecting you to be part of this retribution? 

Surely. Itachi was nothing if not meticulous and intelligent. He could basically see the potential future, and he figured out exactly how to play the cards to his game. He knew. He knew there was nothing he could do to keep the two of you apart forever. He just needed it to happen long enough for Sasuke to breed this strong emotion in his chest. He needed you to learn under talented teachers until the day you came back to serve in avenging the Uchiha. 

Itachi and Shisui were betrayed by the shinobi world, abused and thrown away like nothing. You find yourself clutching your fists and begging for a chance at one of the men that made it all happen. 

“Answer me!” Sasuke’s voice cuts through your hazy train of thought. 

“I…I didn’t think Itachi was the kind of man who would reveal secrets.” Danzo says, genuinely frustrated that Itachi dared to share their corrupt ways. 

“Does that mean it’s true?” Sasuke asks calmly. 

You watch as his susano’o grows in power. The formerly bony skeleton mass of purple chakra became strapped in muscle and flesh, eyes glowing like two stars in its skull. You marvel at the creation, grinning at what you would be able to accomplish in time. Who knows, maybe you would get the chance to try it out against this pile of trash. Sasuke stands proudly before his susano’o, knowing he’s effectively bulletproof. Karin gasps and covers her face in fear, making you roll your eyes. And she hoped to be with Sasuke? Sakura was more bold. 

“Self-sacrifice…That’s what epitomizes a shinobi. Never seeing the light of day. Toiling in the shadows. It is as it was in the past. That is what a true shinobi is.It describes not only Itachi. Countless other ninja have died the same way. Niceties alone will not make the world go round. Peace was attained all because of people like him.” He says, almost generous in the way he speaks. That demeanor quickly turned sour. “People like you who misunderstood Itachi’s intentions couldn’t possibly understand. Still, for Itachi to reveal such a secret to you makes him a traitor to the Leaf.” 

Upon hearing those words, Sasuke’s Susano’o fully closes his fist around the man, and your eyes widen slightly as the blood oozes out from its palm. 

“Don’t say anymore about Itachi!” Sasuke said, staring at the dangling corpse of Danzo. 

“You’re right…Then let us proceed to a battle of the eyes.” Danzo’s voice rang out from behind him, kunai drawn. Sasuke whips his head around, Mangekyo fully displayed, Susano’o surrounding him. Danzo charges again, attempting to plunge the blade into the chakra shield. 

You were astounded that the fool was even alive, knowing it had to be some kind of ability related to the sharingan he stole. But even you had to laugh aloud at his pathetic attempt at piercing a Susano’o. Karin looked at you wearily, and you just shrugged. It was a terrible move. 

“As expected…Susano’o.” Danzo says as if the gigantic chakra skeleton man did not tell him that it was a Susano’o. You cover your mouth so as to not laugh again. “Just the thing to protect yourself.” 

At just the moment he finished speaking, Sasuke’s susano’o dropped a pile of rocks likely from the landscaping above. It landed right on top of Danzo, yet you felt as if he would somehow escape this death too. You watched as the debris cleared, focused on Sasuke and his chakra levels. He was using quite a bit with his Mangekyou and Susano’o. You needed to figure out what kind of jutsu Danzo was using and quickly, to end this for good. 

“The power in its attack is as expected.” Danzo says, you and Karin quickly look to the side of you. There he stood, up on a carved stone tower a few hundred feet away. Sasuke stared at him, you could tell he was working to sort it out just as you were, but the emotion he felt was getting harder and harder to ignore. 

You knew this couldn’t be a genjutsu. You were extremely resistant and everyone’s chakra remained undisturbed. It had to be some unique ability connected to one or all of the sharingan in his right arm. Sasuke’s Susano’o had only formed from the spine up, yet it had the balance to rear back a punch to the tower, sending Danzo flying on a lifeboat of a stone slab under his feet. He landed on the ground below, just in time for another punch from the chakra being. Fog from the debris clouded your vision and flew towards you both, Karin screaming out in fear. Against better judgment, you wrap your fingers around her wrist and reluctantly pull her out of the way with you. 

You turn your regular Sharingan on, searching for Sasuke within his Susano’o. You see him fly towards the head of his summons, and you hear the faint deep rumble of, “Amaterasu.” 

You sigh, knowing he would be even more depleted by this, and Danzo would know that too. The fog clears enough for you to see the Elder being consumed by the signature black flames of Sasuke’s Mangekyo ability. Danzo plummets to the ground in agony as Sasuke lands back on his feet with his chakra shield summon dissipating around him. 

You can see how tired he is, and you begin to worry. He’s been using his Mangekyo all this time, it had to be bleeding or close to it. His body heaved with heavy breath, yet you knew this still was not over. Effectively the third time he had killed the Hokage, but it was not over. You and Karin scanned for his chakra presence, shouting in unison, “Sasuke, behind you!” 

“Wind Style: Vacuum Bullets!” Danzo shouts as he weaves his hand signs to activate the jutsu. It sends several compressed air bullets flying Sasuke’s way, and you wince as once slices open the top layer of skin on his arm. It shatters the rocks as he flies through the air to avoid them, sending himself flying over the bridge. 

“Sasuke!” Karin cries out, moving towards him. Your hold on her wrist keeps her in place, she looks at you with confusion. 

“He’s not an idiot, he has a plan.” You promise, eyes focused on the scene. 

Before you know it, Sasuke is rising before you, standing on the back of a giant hawk. Karin sighs in relief, but you just smile smugly. You never doubted him for a minute. 

Danzo chuckles. “Amaterasu. It’s been a while since I last saw that. You are Itachi’s younger brother after all.” 

It’s now that you can see his face that you confirm your earlier suspicions. His left eye is already bleeding. He hovers in the air on the bird, crouched on its head. Your eyes flicker between him and the enemy, watching as an eye closes on the back of his arm. That had to be significant. 

“You’ve taken over Itachi’s jutsu.” Danzo observes, just serving as kindling for Sasuke’s fire. 

“I told you never to speak of Itachi again!” He reminds not-so-politely. 

“Brothers with the same ability…Yet, what your eyes perceive is so different. I wonder if the sister of Shisui is the same. The truth about them doesn’t matter to you. You direct your hatred at whomever you can lay your hands on. You two make the sacrifice of the Uchiha Clan meaningless.” He spits, holding that disgusting right arm over his face. 

Sasuke snarls. “You have no right to talk about the Uchiha!” His bird soars toward the man standing on the bridge, his hand gripping his sword. Danzo begins to weave more hand signs.

“Wind Style: Vacuum Blast!” This attempt sends some of the debris towards the hawk, which the rogue nin easily evades by jumping off and pulling his sword in the air. Sasuke scans for him in the smoke, catching the spinning shuriken hurled his way. He easily evades this as well, bending backwards out of line of danger and flipping himself to a safer position. He positions his sword in front of his face and spots Danzo atop a large rock pillar. He sends two more rounds of spinning shuriken Sasuke’s way. He catches one on the tip of his sword and sends the other one flying in the air. You notice the screech of his hawk, as if he was instructed to do something here. Sasuke slings his sword, sending the rotating weapon back to the sender. Danzo knocks it upwards, watching as it takes a chunk of rock off hurtling toward the spot where he stood. He had no choice but to move towards Sasuke. The Uchiha jumped toward him, hopeful of landing a blow with his sword, but Danzo caught him by his neck. 

Your eyes widen in anxiousness, Karin once again pathetically screams his name. The hawk screeches again, and you see the missing shuriken from earlier come back into play, slicing Danzo’s arm and allowing Sasuke to strike yet another fatal blow. You inched forward, hoping this was the final time. How many times could Danzo use whatever it was he was using? Surely he would be done soon. Karin elbows you as another eye on his right arm closes. 

“It’s like they represent his lives, almost.” You say, to which she nods. 

“No way!” She says, prompting you to follow her eyesight up to where Danzo once again stood above you all on one of the only carved pillars remaining. 

“It’s useless.” Danzo says to Sasuke once more. The wind blows across Sasuke’s face, moving his hair to let you see the serious glimmer to his eyes. He would not give up, you would have to join him yourself when he got too tired. His eyes widened again, and out from his body came a murder of crows. Danzo seemed genuinely thrown off by this, searching wildly around him, coming face to face with the figure of Itachi. 

“Th-this is…Itachi?” The man asked, staring at the sharingan of the boy gone too soon.

Itachi stares blankly at him, more crows circle overhead. 

From the ground, you watch Sasuke’s chakra dwindle even more as he says,”Die…Amaterasu.” 

Danzo is consumed in flame yet again, but now you begin to expect his scheming survival. “I commend you for placing me under genjutsu.” 

Sasuke capitalized, taking the time that he had for Danzo to be distracted to appear behind him, sword nearly pressed into his back. 

“However…” He knew Sasuke was there. He realizes this truth too, grimacing. The blade of the sword dropped a little. 

“Sasuke! Now’s your chance! Why did you stop?” Karin yells, and you want to punch her for her stupidity. 

“He can’t move.” You say, the answer is obvious to you. And sure enough, a curse mark burns its way up Sasuke’s body. 

“I was aware of your genjutsu long ago. It is a far cry from Itachi’s powerful Tsukuyomi in which he freely manipulated time.” Danzo says dismissively, he’s growing arrogant. 

It’s clear that Danzo placed this mark when he touched Sasuke earlier, and you didn’t come this far to watch him lose. This is what you were here for, it was time for you to take over. You turn your eyes to Mangekyo, ready to throw your version of Kotoamatsukami down. You feel a hand on your shoulder before you can focus, causing you to turn toward the figure.

Seemingly, Karin had the same hopes to help as you did, mindlessly running up the pillar and subsequently being plainly kicked off. She lands in a pile of rocks with a loud whine, and you fight a smirk. 

You shrug the hand off your shoulder, faced with Madara Uchiha. You sigh at him. 

“He needs to do this on his own, it’s Itachi’s will.” 

“Sometimes I think you’re just making shit up for your own benefit. Itachi doesn’t want him to die!” You argue back with a faint snarl. 

Once again, you can hear the fondness coating his voice. “Oh, dear Y/N, have some faith.” Madara encourages, eye flickering between the fighting above and you. It was apparent that someone had to keep you back, or else you would prevent Sasuke’s growth. Danzo makes eye contact with you both on the ground, seemingly deep in thought. 

You sigh and fold your arms over your chest, pouting like a child. “I deserve revenge too.” 

Madara nods. “And you will have it, my dear. We both want to see Sasuke at his fullest potential. He cannot do that if you save him now.” 

You bite the inside of your lip and nod. “Fine.” 

But Madara is not dumb, he won’t leave you unattended now. 

“He’s your ultimate mistake.” The words from above caught your attention, watching with true fear as he swung Sasuke’s own blade toward his paralyzed body. You jump, but Madara’s arms stop you. 

You gasp. The Susano’o reappears, much bigger and sturdier than before. It burns a mass of purple flamed chakra, the skeleton becomes armored and stands tall. Sasuke lets out a guttural yell, and you can tell his chakra stores are expanding, as if he’s leveled up his hatred yet again. The curse mark fades, and he gains control of his own body. 

Danzo sucks in a breath and flies through the air. He tries to stay out of reach of the Susano’o, landing on the remnants of the bridge in front of the armored mass. Sasuke shoots an arrow of pure chakra at the man. He looks as if he’s about to weave, but then abandons it in favor of summoning a massive tree to absorb the blow. 

“Wood style?” You hum to yourself, amused and confused. You notice how his chakra has plummeted with the attack as well, making you take a sigh of relief. It all makes sense to you, something Tsunade showed you a long time ago. Hashirama cells…it must be to manipulate the powers of the sharingan. He must be getting close to his last few extra lives, and that’s why he’s getting desperate. 

“Sasuke! That’s the real Danzo! The jutsu that makes him invincible is broken right now!” Karin yells out, making you hum. She was smarter than she acted. “He’s vulnerable!” 

That makes you slap your hand over your face. If she figured it out, if you figured it out, that means he had figured it out too. The last thing he needed was her advertising that he knew. 

Danzo’s seals were fast, but Sasuke raced to hit him with another purple beam of chakra. He was clearly exhausted, one eye closed it was ailing him so badly. He was breathing hard, trying to accomplish his one true goal for the two of you. He felt rejuvenated, having you there to watch. He didn’t want you to fight. As good as you were, he hoped he could prove to you that he could defeat anyone on his own. 

Karin celebrates, but you hold your breath. 

Surely, Danzo reanimates just next to the spot he was standing in. You look at Karin, she had figured out his chakra levels were fluctuating just as you had. 

“The key has to be in the eyes that close. Maybe they’re used up for the time being?” You hypothesize aloud. 

“Sasuke!” Karin brainlessly calls again, causing you to grab her and shake her a little. 

“Get a grip. Your screaming is only going to distract him or get him killed, and if that happens, I will kill you. So shut up, and keep watching Danzo for better reads.” You say, to which the redhead tearfully nods. 

Danzo runs for the Susano’o only to be impaled by the chakra weapon. It’s almost as if nothing happened, Danzo appears again right in stride, still running towards Sasuke. He creates a gigantic air bubble, blowing it towards the Susano’o. It’s guarded easily, but you can tell these attacks are just to bait him and tire him out more. You believe in his abilities, but he didn’t have to fight alone, so why make him?

“Madara, please, he’s running out of time.” You say shortly, eyeing the masked figure that still stood so close. 

“No.”

You huff, folding your arms again. “This is ridiculous.” You turn your head back toward the action in front of you. Or rather, inaction. Danzo stood, catching his breath and analyzing his next move. You would finish him where he stood, no time for pleasantries.  You were sure he would do the same if he wasn’t so wiped. 

To your surprise, Danzo summons a massive elephant-like beast. It creates a vortex of wind as Danzo sprints toward the Susano’o. The summon sucks everything toward it like a vacuum, allowing him to get close enough for another wind style attack. The Susano’o is unable to move properly, and it seems as if Danzo needed that to happen  . 

Sasuke sends a fireball for the beast to eat, gaining mobility of his Susano’o back, He swings around in time to punch his opponent in the face and body, sending him flying towards the rocky ground. Sasuke falls to his knees, and you inch toward him, though you know you won’t be allowed to move much further. Sure, you could try to fight Madara, but that would only distract Sasuke and possibly damage his support so you didn’t want to take the risk. Though it slowly became more and more of an option as you watched your best friend cough up blood. 

Your heart quickened, the thought of the only person in the world that held your heart perishing here, right in front of you, just days after you’ve reunited, felt like hell. You needed him to get up and finish this so that you two could get the revenge you deserved. 

The Susano’o starts deteriorating, matching Sasuke’s chakra levels. Karin explains her findings aloud, and you nod along with her explanation. “Oh please don’t–”

“Sasuke!” She calls up to him, “I figured out a little bit of that guy’s jutsu! Listen. Alright?”

“When all ten of your eyes have closed on your right arm, your jutsu will be undone, isn’t that so?” Sasuke asks, focused on the enemy. 

You smirk, and look at the girl with a glimmer in your eyes that portrays exactly how smug you feel. 

Danzo seemed unimpressed, but his words prove otherwise. “You knew about Izanagi?” 

“As I suspected!” Sasuke says, dropping down to his level inside the remnants of the Susano’o. 

“You tricked me? What a crafty brat.” 

“Y-you fool! Why are you engaging him?” Karin asks, and you slap her arm. 

“Haven’t you questioned him too many times? Let him prove himself.” You say with a fond smile, proud of what Sasuke had been able to accomplish. You still wanted to vent your rage, but Madara had a different target in mind for you. 

Danzo tried to stop the Susano’o’s approach with a gust of wind, but it was only delayed. He dropped an elbow down on top of the Hokage, waiting to see if an eye closed. It did. 

“Sasuke! Get away from him now!” Karin panics, outwardly showing her fear. That’s where she made her mistake, and you know it. “Prolong the battle!” 

You groan, watching as Sasuke turns away from her loudmouth. He doesn’t hear her, you don’t think. He’s entirely too focused. “You idiot, if that means that his jutsu is undone, then all of Sasuke’s chakra is still gone and he’s uninjured.” 

Sasuke has his back to you, but when he turns back around he’s flinging shuriken at the man coming at him in the air. Another eye closes. Just two more minutes, two more killing attacks. Danzo disappears from midair, appearing behind him. Sasuke’s palm is encapsulated by chidori, one of the only things that he learned from Kakashi. He forms it into a sword, wielding it by his side as he yells, “How many Uchiha did you kill to get that right arm?!” 

Danzo has a chakra blade of his own it seems. “It was Itachi who enabled me to get it.” 

“You made him do it!” Danzo’s eye grows wider and everyone watches in wonder. Sasuke’s lightning blade rests burrowed deep in his chest. 

“You were too hasty. My eye is still open. Go to Itachi so he can lecture you. I win.” 

You shook your head in disbelief. No, this couldn’t be it. He had done it! What did he mean, he wins, no he doesn’t! Not against Sasuke, not here. 

“You may think you’ve seen through Izanagi..” But then the man’s eyes go wide in a mix of shock and fear. He coughs up a stream of dark blood. It’s not working, you think, Sasuke put him under a genjutsu. The last eye closes, and you clench your fists as you eagerly watch on. Sasuke pushes the man back slightly, freeing his lightning blade from his abdomen.

“You’re the one who is going to see Itachi.” Sasuke states smugly, watching as his opponent fell to his knee with a grunt of pain. Sasuke’s exhaustion was clear, and you hoped this would be the extent of it. You’re not as confident about him having to do this over if the Izanagi was undone. With another yell of suffering, Danzo falls forward on his hands, inches away from Sasuke’s feet. 

“Now that’s battling with your eyes. Don’t underestimate the Uchiha.”

You watch them carefully. Danzo never used Shisui’s eye, perhaps he was worried about you or Sasuke or even Madara getting it back. You knew that he was seeking power and prowess, but you were sure he would allow you to keep your brother’s eye. You want to get it back, it should’ve never been abused like this. None of this should have happened like this. Danzo is the reason your brother is dead. All because they wanted his abilities. You are his second coming, the now mostly heartless version of the boy who had been so kind. Your abilities will make up for the loss of his. 

Ripping you out of your thoughts was Sasuke’s yell of pain. You focus back on the present, moving toward him as far as Madara would allow. Karin runs fully fledged, and you’re annoyed that he lets her. This of course is an ultimate move to keep you out of danger and to allow Sasuke to be the best. Madara knows Karin can’t contribute anything too useful, whereas you could have used your Mangekyo ability to control everything. 

Karin crouches next to him. “Are you alright? Hurry up and bite!” 

You roll your eyes. That would be how her healing works, how stupid. He grabs her arm and his eyes flitter over to you for a moment. He looks back down at her wrist and reluctantly chomps down. You can actually feel your body temperature increase when she moans out and turns red, obviously getting something from this. 

“Bringing that woman was a wise decision, she’s useful. I see why Sasuke chose her.” Madara says, and you wonder if he gets pleasure from pissing you off. You’re fully capable of healing too, it really wasn’t necessary for her to be here at all. Sasuke did want her to join, however, and now you’re wondering why. It felt silly to be so jealous at a time like this, so you force the thought out entirely, choosing instead to watch the scene before you. 

You watch as Danzo summons yet another huge tree from his Hashirama given ability. It makes you wish you could make trees this powerful under your plant jutsu, but the wood style was so unique to the first Hokage. 

“What a persistent guy!” Karin says as Danzo reaches to undo the bandages covering his head and right eye. You almost shout for her to get out of the way, but something causes the words to die in your throat. 

“Not yet. This is where we battle with our eyes.” Your stomach sinks. This could really only mean one thing. The sharingan in his head was Shisui’s. All you see is red, wishing you could throw caution to the wind in order to get it back. 

Almost as if he’s able to read your thoughts, Madara’s other hand claps down gently on your shoulder. “We’ll be getting it back.” He promised, needing both of the Uchiha to unlock their eternal Mangekyo status. His visual prowess combined with yours would make any opponent terrified to stand across from you. 

Sasuke realizes this as well, recognizing the sharingan pattern of your older brother. He charges at Danzo with his left hand consumed by Chidori. But Danzo doesn’t wait for him to make it, choosing to run around to hold Karin by the neck. You clap your hands over your face. Of course, she would be annoying this entire mission and then get herself taken hostage when the battle was nearly won.

“You used your visual prowess too much, didn’t you?” Danzo asks, a smug expression on his face. 

Karin struggles in his grip. “Sasuke..!” 

“Useless.” You mutter, directly arguing Madara’s earlier claims. “I could have healed him faster and avoided this.”

“Isn’t it ironic that you, who glorified self-sacrifice, would take a hostage?” Sasuke asks calmly. You know that he has a plan. 

“It’s not that I consider my life precious. But for the sake of the Hidden Leaf Village…for the ninja world…I cannot afford to die here.” He replies, making it clear how much of a rat he truly is. He cares not for the Leaf like he claims, he only cares about power and winning. “No matter what the means, I must survive. For I will be the one reformer who will change this ninja world. This woman will be sacrificed for that cause.” He adds, tightening his hold on the redheaded healer.

You can’t find it in yourself to care. You just want Danzo dead and your brother’s eye returned to you. You want to get rid of this whiny brat that thinks that she has any of Sasuke’s attention. You want to balance out the scales and go home, wherever that would be. 

“Sasuke help!” She pleads again, not an ounce of self-preservation instinct in her. 

“Don’t move…Karin.” Sasuke says authoritatively, causing the girl to smile with relief. You gasp. He looks terrifying right now, nothing but coldness and brutality emanating off of him. He shoots a beam of his chidori straight out, hitting Karin and Danzo both. 

Karin’s eyes are wide, blood seeping from her mouth. Even you are surprised. Your shock turns into a smile, appreciating his desire for revenge. He would never let Danzo get away, just like he had promised to himself and to you. 

Danzo is stilled, hit in a vital point. It should just be seconds before he draws his last breath. 

“Brother…one down.” He says with a satisfied smile. 

“Sasuke…what was I to you?” She asks desperately, as if the answer was not clear by his willingness to sacrifice her life to get what he wanted. 

“Karin…You managed to get taken hostage, you are nothing but a burden to me.” His chidori finally powers down and Karin’s injured form falls face first onto the cement. Danzo’s breathing grows heavy, and you can still hear the woman struggling for her own breaths. Sasuke is satisfied. There is no guilt or remorse. 

Danzo turns and starts to lightly jog away, his desperation clear. He had no other options, and was cornered once more. Sasuke starts to calmly walk after him, his dark eyes glowering with a crazed desire. He smirks, walking Danzo down. Madara takes you with him as he jumps to the bridge, cutting off his escape. 

“Danzo..I’m taking Shisui’s eye.” He says with finality. Sasuke reflects on the night he found out about Shisui, the pain he felt for you. He couldn’t have imagined what it would be like to lose Itachi yet, and if you felt even a fraction of the way he did now, you deserve this retribution tenfold. 

Danzo seemed enraged. “For the sake of the ninja world…for the sake of the Hidden Leaf…I will not let you three live!” He declares, a black seal appearing on his body. 

“Sasuke! Get away from Danzo!” Madara yells, dissolving into the ground below. You and Sasuke jump into the air.

You shake your head. “No! Shisui’s eye!” You remind, eyes fixed on the man destroying himself just to keep you from having it. The two of you land on the Samurai Bridge, close to Karin’s body. There’s not any time to process what happened, and you think you’re hallucinating when you see Sakura walking toward you two. 

She pleads with Sasuke to allow her to join your team, claiming she, too, has defected. You immediately know she’s lying. If another team seven member left the village, every available ninja in Konoha would be after her. And, as sweet and talented in medical nin as she was, she was not gifted in evasion or lying. 

Sasuke seemed to play her game, telling her she could replace Karin on their squad if she killed her. You could see the terror flashing in her eyes. She wouldn’t do it. Karin groaned in obvious agony, watching all three of you. As Sakura approaches her, you share a glance with Sasuke. You shake your head, eyes flickering over to the other women briefly. He nods, agreeing with you. He lights his hand with what little chakra he has left, but before it goes anywhere, Kakashi flies onto the bridge, swooping the pink-haired woman away.

Your heart stops, your mind goes blank even. Kakashi? You really must be hallucinating now. You watched him die, how on earth is he standing before you? Is this a joke, no, no, a cruel prank. He sets her down, instructing her to take Karin somewhere else, if you hear him correctly. 

After that, you’re not really sure what happens or what’s being said. You can hear the cold and biting tone in Sasuke’s voice. He’s really going off the rails, he’s getting more cruel and more dark. You knew that was Itachi’s goal for the most part, but only to drive this revenge and keep the name of the Uchiha respected. But he had killed the most prominent motivator behind the massacre, shouldn’t he feel better? Kakashi…it really is him. It’s his voice, all the body language is the same. A strange noise comes out of your mouth and you’re embarrassed when your knees buckle. 

Kakashi is relieved to see you unharmed and relatively safe. He sees the myriad of emotions on your face, and for a moment he wants to pause all of this arguing to give you a hug and tell you that it is really him. That he’s not angry with you and he’ll do anything it takes to keep you safe, even if that includes hurting Sasuke. 

You hear the battle between them commence, a few ninjutsu here and there until Sasuke summons his Susano’o. You know no matter how this ends, you’ll be heartbroken for a time. You wanted revenge too, but even you could admit that you were worried for Sasuke once again. And if Sasuke hurt Kakashi in any permanent way, you would hold that against him. His Susano’o falters, running on fumes of chakra at this point. He taps you in. 

“Y/N, take care of this pretender!” He demands, enraged, that Kakashi has the sharingan and the chakra control to use it as a non-Uchiha. 

But you don’t move. You know you can’t, you could never even imagine it. Deep down, Sasuke knows this too. That’s why he gives you such an order in the first place. He’s losing himself, he can feel that. All his love and care for you has been devoured by this Amaterasu of emotion. The only thing he can comprehend is hatred, is the need for crushing anyone and anything that’s hurt him. He’s jealous and angry at you, too, for having someone care about you like Kakashi does. You didn’t have to experience everything on your own like he did. Once, he wanted you to get revenge too. He wanted your hatred to burn and consume you just as it had him. But yours wasn’t strong enough. No, because you had weaknesses. Your loyalty to him could be blinded by your devotion to the man who raised you. Maybe at some point he had appreciated this about you. Part of him may even be glad that you had a family. But when you denied him the first time he was baffled. He knew you had to care for him more than that, right? But here you sit, on your hands and knees in the river, denying him again. Uchihas feel every emotion deeply, and you love him. You have always loved him, so how dare you choose Kakashi right now? It was your chance to prove that you were indeed strong. 

Kakashi was going to be a few seconds too late. Sasuke moved toward you with the intent to kill this time, and he was stunned. Was he really this close to bringing you back home only to be responsible for your death?

Your eyes widened once you realized that he was coming at you, and then all you felt was a gust of wind and a strong body and chakra wrapped around you. You looked up, arms around the neck of Naruto Uzumaki. Maybe under different circumstances you would smile at him. But now, your emotions are so conflicted. Even when Naruto smiles warmly down at you and sets you back on your wobbly feet, you don’t know what to say. Because really, you are just as bad as Sasuke. You let him attack Karin and you would have let him kill Sakura on a whim, just because you knew you could. You got revenge, but you were devastated about not retrieving your brother’s eye. You fed off of Sasuke’s negativity instead of him feeding off of any of your light. You knew there were more targets, but how many innocent people would you have to hurt to finish attaining revenge?

Part of you died again with Kakashi. With every loss, your heart grew smaller and your eyes more powerful. You enjoyed being powerful, but at this cost…the price was much too high. It becomes clear to you that the only person that can save Sasuke is himself, and only Naruto can get close enough to him to force this. Kakashi’s hand is on your head, bringing you out of your thoughts while Naruto and Sasuke exchange words and promises. Sasuke wants to attack the Leaf, Naruto swears to defend it to no end. Life was so different just moments ago, but you have to let Sasuke go. It’s the only way you can ever hope to mend what you have, if that time ever comes. Kakashi’s hand is large, but it’s a welcome reminder of the best thing to come of this: his return.

“Are you alright?” He asks, eyes carefully analyzing you. He knew this must be beyond difficult, as most your life had been, he understands. 

“I think so.” You reply unsurely. The truth was absolutely not. How could you be okay? You were in the Bingo Books but all you sought was justice, corrupted by the desire toward the end. And now, the only true love you’ve ever known would have killed you had Naruto not showed up. 

Madara and Zetsu show up, trying to de-escalate the situation and take Sasuke away. Zetsu wanted to further the fighting to take you back, and perhaps capture the nine-tails inside Naruto, but he was luckily talked down from that. They disappear, and you’re left looking around at Kakashi and Naruto without a clue in the world what to say. 

“Don’t worry Y/N-chan, Kakashi-Sensei and Old Lady Tsunade will get all of this taken care of! We want you to come home!” Naruto says cheerfully, though you can tell he’s hiding his emotions by distracting himself with yours. 

You look down at the river beneath you. “Is it really that easy? I..I don’t know how I can face anyone..” 

Kakashi’s face softens. He knows the feeling. “You’ll do what you have always done before. You’ll train and go on missions and earn back trust over time. It won’t be easy, but it’s nothing you can’t manage.” 

“Plus we’re always here for you!” Naruto adds, patting you on the shoulder affectionately. “I missed you! I looked everywhere for you Y/N…” He chuckles nervously, clearly not trying to get on your case.

“I know, you got close several times. I’m sorry…I thought that this is what I wanted.” 

“It’s alright, really! Don’t worry about it, you’re coming back home to the Leaf and now we can train together and we’ll be ready to take on Sasuke!” He holds his hand out for you to take, and you do. You squeeze it out of appreciation, and he seems a little lost for a moment. It causes a smile to sneak up on you, he wasn’t familiar with acts of affection and it made you wonder why he held his hand out to you at all. 

“We’ll be ready.” You confirm, heart aching already at the thought of the Last of the Uchiha standing against each other instead of beside. Your smile is weak and it’s easy to tell that you’re still weary, but it means enough to the jinchuriki and your father figure that they both smile softly at you in return. 

“Let’s go home.” Kakashi hums, relieved to have you in tow. But he felt immense guilt over Sasuke, and what lay ahead for you. 

Home. You nod, wondering the same. Wondering what home really means, and if life is always this painful. 

Naruto starts talking about some old story that Jiraiya told him, and you’re grateful that he keeps the journey from being silent. 

“Gaara! I will stay and fight with the Kage!” You proclaim, taking up a spot beside him and aiding Tsunade in his healing. 

He hums his approval. “Good, your prowess will help us well.” He says honestly, the last time he saw you was at the Kage Summit, and you were not so helpful then. But before that, you helped save him from Sasori and Deidara, and before that, you were kind to him at the chunin exams. Overall, he has more reasons to believe in you than not, and he chooses to trust in you. 

The Mizukage sprays a lava jutsu all over the place, allowing the Raikage to pull off some lightning style moves. 

Madara re-emerges from the rubble in a big blue Susano’o not unlike Sasuke’s. You hum, finishing up Gaara’s healing to form a Susano’o of your own. You had been practicing it as far as you really could, stressing yourself out by reliving your different traumas until your summon was perfect. A bright green chakra statue comes together in the sky, your Susano’o standing directly against Madara Uchiha’s. Madara throws attacks at you, Gaara’s sand creating a protective barrier around everyone else. You crush the attacks with your hands. 

“Another pesky one of my own, is that so?” Madara chuckles deeply, almost admiring your perfect Susano’o. “It’s too bad I’ll have to kill you, child!” 

Gaara covers his Susano’o with his sand, preparing for his ultimate sand coffin burial. Madara shoots his chakra through, piercing the layer and preparing for another attack. The Mizukage covers the field in mist, obscuring the rinnegan’s ability to see. The Raikage takes the opportunity to get through, and you follow his lead to take a shot at Madara’s Susano’o too, the sound of chakra against chakra like nails on a chalkboard. You knock him from the being, powering yours down to fight regularly. You punch the ground, creating a physical rift and hopefully some sort of visual one.

The Tsuchikage talks Naruto’s shadow clone into trusting in the five Kage’s abilities, especially with you as added backup. Naruto trusts you too, maybe more easily than you deserved, but his clone sped off and left the six of you to take Madara down. 

Madara wraps vines around the Tsuchikage’s defense, and you recognize the plant style similar to yours. You grin, you summon your own vines in the variety that would smother out his own, considered more powerful but also more chakra consuming. Your seal appears on your forehead, and you’re ready to consume what you’ve had stored for so long. 

Your vines take out half of his plants, but it's not enough. They start to admit a poisonous pollen, which Tsunade advises everyone to avoid. Everyone jumps in the air, giving Madara an opening to reform his Susano’o. The commotion of his summons sends everyone flying towards the tree roots he’s created below. He uses a fire style to light the wood on fire, smoke inhalation making you all fall forward, unable to overpower it. The Tsuchikage uses all of his remaining strength to use a metallic jutsu, repelling the flame away. 

It takes a few minutes, but slowly you all wake, rushing to the Tsuchikage’s aid. Madara reveals his addition of Hashirama’s powers to his own, taking the time to insult Lady Tsunade’s powers in comparison to her grandfather’s. He even calls her a weak woman, to which your promise he will pay for. 

“Alright it’s time for you to stop talking!” You grit your teeth, watching Tsuande’s 100 healings jutsu seal wraps around her body, and her punch is enough to actually physically crack Madara’s Susano’o. You’re mystified by this, and proud of one of your teachers for defending her abilities. Hashirama was a God amongst men, there is no comparison to be made except for maybe Naruto. The Mizukage has to jump in to extinguish another bout of fire style. Her water dragon comes next, allowing Tsunade and the Raikage to score hits on the chakra shield. Their punches land, cracking the usually impenetrable guard and taking Madara right out of it. 

“I’ll admit it. Undoubtedly you are not weak woman. However, Hashirama, I don’t know exactly what it is you’ve left to all your followers. But this falls short of your abilities. If you’re going to let your underlings take over, you should have taught them how to resurrect you. The only thing that is ever truly passed down, of course, is hatred.” He says smugly, arms folded over his chest. 

Tsunade flies at him. Landing a punch to his chest. The Raikage calls for Gaara, letting him enact his plan. He captures Madara in a sand pyramid, and you jump over to land with Tsunade. 

“Way to go!” You cheer, just as a beam of chakra erupts from the tree root you’re standing on, shooting right through your mentor. It lifts her into the air, the rest of you staring in shock. Apparently Gaara sealed a wood style clone instead of the real Madara. Tsunade yells out, a guttural mix of frustration, anger, and the desire to win. She ‘cha’s’ the chakra beam impaling her,  and this time even Madara is surprised. She holds onto the other end of the tentacle-esque formation, slamming it to the ground below her. Madara sends her flying into a pile of rocks, even more shocked when she pushes them aside and stands ready to fight again. 

The Tsuchikage tries an attack from behind while Tsuande aims one at his front, but Madara is able to deflect. He summons five clones for every one of you, taunting you with the option for them to use Susano’o. Yours forms again, ready to take on most of the clones yourself. Your Susano’o fights with two samurai blades, slashing through several members of Madara’s army. One still hits the Mizukage, sending her flying back as well as Gaara when he tries to intervene. Lady Tsunade and the Raikage land a few shots on their own shadow clones, and then Madara decides to pick the Raikage out of the crowd. He puts him under a genjutsu, and the Tsuchikage’s summon is the only thing that saves the former’s life. 

The Five Kage plus you stand aligned, ready for what came next. You knew the clones were going to be an issue, though Madara seemed less sure about them now that your Susano’o stands tall too. 

The Tsuchikage sends out a particle style jutsu, absorbing the rest of the clones and forcing Madara into his perfect Susano’o. You force yours to his level, knowing that if you don’t, all five Kage will die. Madara hits the cliff, sending everyone but your shielded form back a few hundred yards. His Susano’o walks up to yours. You slash at him, but he’s quick. He lands a hit on your chakra form, making you take a couple steps backward. You block his next attack with one sword, using your other to stab through. For a moment, you believe your attack is what causes him to drop from his Susano’o, but he declares that something is wrong with the jutsu he’s been using. 

You grin, knowing that if you can continue to hold him off, you may overpower him simply from your chakra stores. He obviously has virtually hundreds of years of fighting experience and Hashirama Senju was his opponent, but still, you  tell yourself that your power compares to no one else, not even your brother. 

“It appears that the reanimation jutsu has been released.” He says unbothered, though you feel like it’s a ruse. You drop from your Susano’o in favor of your right eye’s Mangekyou ability, Subete o Mamoru. It allows you to project your genjutsu onto everyone else, giving you the opportunity to give the Five Kage your delayed sense. 

Madara barrels toward you, and the only person you can’t protect is Lady Tsunade, who barrels ahead to meet him. You watch her stutter mid-air, her seal must have worn off. The Raikage jumps to catch her, but she’s gently placed down on a tree root before anyone can actually make it to her. You’re all confused, as she seemed to have passed out in the air. When she comes mentally back, she seems re-energized, claiming she got to see an old friend. It must have been the reanimated souls making it back, someone came to see her. You wondered if it was Dan, or her brother, or even Jiraiya. 

Madara claims that she will see him then again soon, releasing the jutsu. He voices his desire to go for Naruto instead, which you vehemently protest. 

“Even if we can’t stop him, we can’t just let him get to Naruto!” You proclaim, arguing with the Kage of the Villages. You’re not sure what happens next, all you see is the ground beneath you growing closer dangerously fast. 

It’s Kakashi that shakes you awake. The sun is hanging in the sky, things are mostly quiet other than a low rumble of a few people talking here and there. His eyes look at you with worry, but your gentle smile puts him at ease. You were mostly unharmed, just a few scrapes and bruises here and there. You fought valiantly and stood toe-to-toe with Madara. He pats your head. 

“Is it over?” You ask, looking around at the immeasurable damage done. 

He nods slowly. The war is certainly over, but Naruto and Sasuke were standing against each other for the final time. 

“What is it?” You ask cautiously, able to read that there was more to know. Your heart drops, and you fear that you’ve lost your friends. 

“Naruto and Sasuke are fighting in the valley.” He states, watching your expression shift. You didn’t even know Sasuke had shown up, and you immediately feared that he was fighting with the other Uchiha. 

“Sasuke? Did…he–”

“No, he fought for the Leaf…he needs to fight Naruto a final time, I think. To fully put this to bed.” Kakashi explains calmly, lifting you into his arms to take you and Sakura to the scene. He lets the two of you heal each other, silently. There was a quiet understanding that you had between each other, and you were okay with that. 

When you get to the valley though, all the fighting is done. The two boys lay almost lifeless on the rock, missing an arm and bleeding out. Sakura runs over the rock to Naruto, and you find yourself automatically moving the same way, sitting by Sasuke’s side with a pained smile. 

Sakura is in tears, healing Naruto and looking between the two of them in wonder.

You hold your hand over Sasuke’s wound, and the look in his eyes is heartbreaking. His other hand closes around your wrist, pushing your hand away. 

“I don’t deserve it.” He says, seemingly realizing the mistakes he’s made all at once. As he looks at you, someone who had every right to turn out just like him, but someone who was so much better. You were kind and forgiving and full of love for other people, and it hurt him to look at your brightness. Especially when he almost smothered it out, almost killed the person he cares most for simply out of anger. 

You peel his hand off of yours, pooling your chakra to heal the wound. “You deserve to live, Sasuke.” 

“I hurt you. I’m sorry, you didn’t do anything to deserve that.” His voice is thick and shaky, and you know he’s fighting tears. 

You rest your other hand on his face. “Apology accepted. The world doesn’t work off of who deserves what, Sasuke. We can only do that for each other, from now on. I’ll give you what you deserve if you can do that for me.” 

He nods, watching you stop his bleeding and bandage the nub that used to be his right arm. You’re beat up, and he wonders who you were fighting with and against in the war. He wonders how you can forgive him so easily and touch him so tenderly after everything he’s put you through, all the back and forth and the mistreatment and the danger. He can tell by the softness of your features, the gentle smile playing at your lips and the life that shines in your eyes, you aren’t upset. You meant what you said. He feels another emotion, one he’s felt in short bursts before, but this time it’s overwhelming. Anger and hatred burned from the inside, turning everything to blisters and scars. But what he feels as he looks at you, it soothes. It’s a rush of cool water relieving all his burns, stronger than the gusting winds of his doubt. He knows it will be alright, for the first time. He knows he will do whatever it takes to give you what you deserve, it’s the least he can do, so he’ll do even more than that. 

He’ll make it up to you, or spend his life trying. 

Kakashi was chosen as the Sixth Hokage, much to your enjoyment. You knew the job would keep him on his toes, but you couldn’t imagine anyone better for it. He pardons Sasuke for his crimes, citing his war effort and even Itachi’s work to protect the Leaf as the reasons why. 

Itachi and Shisui are officially commemorated as Heroes of the Leaf. It warms your heart to know that this came from Sasuke’s journey. Just like you had hoped, Naruto forced him to save himself and understand his actions. 

In an effort to continue making up for his transgressions, he vows to search the hidden villages for any more Kaguya-level threats to keep the Leaf safe for as long as he lives. Itachi would be proud. Sasuke cites you as the biggest reason he was able to come back to himself, the way you stood strong was inspiring. A true example of the honor, strength, and integrity of being an Uchiha. 

It has only been a few months, but the two of you have become inseparable. All is right in the world, the Last of the Uchiha stand side by side wherever you see them. That doesn’t change even as he gets ready to set out on this mission, your journey unarguably bound with his. He knew you would come with him, but part of him worried that you would change your mind. He worried that you would realize that you were better than him, that he had done unforgivable things, he broke his promise. He swore he would never hurt you yet that’s all he’s ever done. 

So how can you look at him so happily, bouncing up to your fellow Uchiha with a bright smile and a bag hanging off your shoulder, no doubt packed for the trip. How can you leave Kakashi behind in favor of him, the man who almost killed you? The warmth in your heart sparks life in him, determined to take your forgiveness and make the most of it. You look as magical as you usually do, your Uchiha-crested shirt form-fitting to your womanly figure. You took the comfortable and utilizable route of shorts, knowing that you would be active. Your cloak is snapped above your chest, the purple cape flapping in the breeze. And that damned purple headband keeps your dark hair out of your shining and love-filled face. 

You love him, he realizes again. Once, it upset him. He felt entitled to your love without even really knowing what it meant. He thought a woman’s love was pure devotion, that it was something mindless and just another facet of life. From his earliest ages, he remembers assuming he’d marry you. He remembers not being bothered by the idea, but didn’t think you were much like a wife when you were little. His mom was quiet and sweet, and you were a yelling demon of a girl. His mom always made good dinners and always made him happy when he cried,so that’s what thought love meant. And he could live without a good dinner or and he doesn’t cry often enough to need someone to cheer him up. 

That’s what he used to believe, until now. Now that he’s watching you carefully pack onigiri in a small box, rambling on about Shikamaru and Temari’s wedding that would happen while you two were gone, it all makes so much sense. The unfathomable care and worry he had for you that night, grieving your loss as a child, wondering if he would ever see you again. The jealousy of watching you become close with Naruto and Shikamaru, the deep need to have you by his side at his lowest mental point, it’s because he loves you too, and it means so much more than he thought. 

You fill the emptiness in him with your smile, the sound of your laugh makes his heart beat funny but he likes it. If anything happens to you, he fears what he truly would become then. He decides to push that out of his mind, knowing he would never allow that. You would be safer than you’ve ever been, because he would die for you. 

Your eyes narrow at him. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t listening, he was lost in his own head again. You wonder if it’s a good or a bad place, whatever he’s thinking about. You think it’s pleasant, from the small grin betraying him. His hair ruffled slightly with the breeze, his dark cape doing the same. He stood tall, seemingly growing more even over the past few months. He traded his purple clothes for black, knowing you would keep the purple alive. His robes were simple, but you thought he would get too warm on the long road ahead. 

Over the past few months, the two of you had grown closer, however that was possible. It seemed easier now, like after your traumas you were able to let things flow more freely. Unfortunately, neither of you were magically gifted with the ability of affection all of a sudden, though you were each trying to work up the nerve to display your true emotions in a more bold way. So far, the furthest confirmation you had received from him was the green paper heart tucked still in the pocket of your bag, and the most he had from you was your utter stoppage of Karin every time she was around. It was clear how much you meant to each other, and you were able to say as much. You usually stayed with him in his old apartment, which made conversations flow unfiltered and with plenty of wonder from you, gazing at the nearly barren place. 

He’s been here since you were kids, and it didn’t have any personal decoration or flare to it. It barely looked lived in, though you imagine his desertion at 12 had a lot to do with that. Yet still, it was a time capsule of comparison. You had six years of learning to be a person with Kakashi, he had six years of beige walls and a ticking clock on the wall. Nothing but his own mind to keep him busy, his emotions and need to get stronger motivating him to train hard. You marveled at the dust settled over everything, opening the window to air the apartment out. You two had spent that afternoon cleaning the entire place, and you displayed a few pictures and some of the origami he made you to decorate. He smiled at the gesture, a picture of the two of you as rogue nin framed. It made him want to chuckle, so he did, though it sounded strange.

“What, you don’t like it?” You pouted, moving to grab it back. He quickly stopped you by stepping in between the picture and origami setup on the dresser and your lunging form. 

“It’s just an interesting picture, that’s all. I do suppose that’s the only one you have, though.” He admitted with a shrug, a tiny smile on his lips. He was amused by the pouting and by the effort to make his apartment seem more like a home despite the fact you two would be leaving it to dust over again in a few months anyway. “I like it.”

You arched a brow. “Are you lying?” 

“No. I don’t get the point of decorating when we’ll be leaving again, but I think it’s nice of you to worry about things like that.” He says, and you look at him critically, deciding he was telling the truth. 

“Because it’s still yours. It makes me a little sad to think about tiny Sasuke growing up here. I guess I can’t undo that, of course, but..I can make the future better.” You say, pouting again at the idea. 

He smiled and nodded. He definitely agreed, you were just about the only thing that could make him better. 

So now that you two are ready to set out, he wonders if he has the nerve to push things just a little further with you. You set all his paper origami creations on his table that day a couple of months ago, all except the most important one. 

“Hey, did you keep the..paper heart-thing I made you..?” He asks just as you were about to ask if he was listening. So that’s what he was thinking about. The question and his awkwardness makes your heart quicken. 

You nod. “Yeah, it’s right here.” You reply, undoing the button on your bag so you can pull it from the pocket to show him. 

He smiles softly when he sees it, and almost instinctively looks away. “Why did you keep it, instead of putting it up in my apartment?”

“Because this one means something else, I thought.” You say back, quicker in response than he anticipated. There’s a knowing tone to your voice, like you understand what he’s working towards and are letting him have the time to do it. 

“It does.” He confirms, and it wasn’t as hard as he expected. He holds his hand out to you again, like he did in the cave months earlier, but instead of letting you grab it, he looks down at it like he wasn’t sure how to accomplish what he wanted. He wasn’t sure how to simply express his affection for you other than what you did to him after the war. He tilts his hand a little and rests it on your cheek instead. When you touched him like this it was gentle and sweet, he could feel your forgiveness. He hoped you could feel his love for you.

“I love you too.” You hum, sinking into the touch. He could feel your cheek move for your soft smile. Your fingers close around his wrist, The two of you just looking at each other. There was nothing else to say, out loud anyway. His heart softened at you words, you did know him so well.

Time heals most wounds, and so does working missions with your partner. It felt like the two of you versus the world, in a good way. The way you had always imagined it would feel. The wide open sky welcomes you both, stars lighting the way of your walk. It had been another few months since the two of you left the Leaf to start exploring threats, and since you confessed your previously unspoken love for one another. Not much had changed since then, other than the two of you holding hands as you talked about all kinds of different things and explored the hidden villages. 

The beautiful night sky just served to highlight your beauty, in the eyes of Sasuke. It really was a miracle that you didn’t fall for someone else while he was gone, truly the Last Princess. Uchiha were unusually beautiful, but you were angelically so. Not to even factor in your immense power and perfect persona. He wasn’t completely sure anyone deserved to be with you. He was lucky you gave him that chance. 

“We should rest here for a while.” He says in that ever calm voice of his. You hum your agreement and begin to set up a little pallet bed for each of you. He came over to help set up his own, remembering something you had said a few months ago. “Hm. Isn’t Shikamaru and Temari’s wedding today?” 

You gasp and nod, pilfering through your bag for a scroll to write them a letter. “Yes! I completely forgot, thank you for reminding me!” You say, taking out the paper and bearing down on the ground with your ink pot. 

“Silly girl.” Sasuke mused, summoning two crows. “This will be faster, and they’ll show clones of us. What would you like to say?”

You stand back up, pleasantly surprised that he would send chakra birds to deliver your message faster. “Of course, of course, uh let’s see.” 

You stare off at the stars above you, biting your lip. Maybe everything really was worth it, if in the end he gets to keep you. You’re impossibly seductive, even when you’re simply thinking of what to tell your good friends.

“Congratulations, Shikamaru and Temari! I’ve known that this is how your story goes since we were chunin, the chemistry you two have is so amazing! I love you two so much and so does Sasuke!! We’re sending you a wedding gift when we get to the next village so be on the lookout for that. Can’t wait to see you both soon! Sasuke, say bye!” You say, cheerful and bouncy. He can’t help himself, everything in his body aches to grab you in his arm and kiss you, uncouth as it may be. So he does. He steps forward and wraps his left arm around your waist, tugging you close.. You look up at him when he does this, only surprise and excitement on your face as your hands brace yourself on his chest, waiting expectantly. He brings his hand up to hold your face in the way he likes so much, thumb gently stroking over your cheekbone. He leans down, trusting his body to know what to do. Your lips meet his, soft and warm. He finds that he does know what to do, mouth moving over yours easily. You feel him relax, hands still balled up in his clothes. His body is tingling, your breath giving him life and motivating him to keep going on. Only when he’s breathless does he pull away, resting his forehead on yours. His heart races but in a comforting way. Like he would spend the rest of his life chasing that feeling, of your hands and lips on him and no one else. 

His eyes widen when he realizes that the chakra crows would replay the scene, and you seemingly understand this at the same time. You giggle and shake your head, turning back to them. “He gets a little excited, sorry about that you guys.” 

He smiles sheepishly, waving towards the birds. “Um, yes, I apologize. Congratulations on your marriage,” He weaves the sign to send the birds, looking horribly embarrassed when he turns back to you. 

You can’t help but laugh again, giving him a shorter but just as sweet kiss. “Well now the Leaf gets to commemorate our first kiss!” 

The journey involves a few firsts for the young couple. You discover that you have an insane fighting chemistry, able to read each other’s moves and capitalize. Fighting together feels amazing, like all is right in the world. You train and keep your abilities sharp together, eat every meal by each other’s side. 

You’ve been traveling for a little over three years, marked by your eighteenth birthday. Sasuke had already celebrated this milestone earlier in the year, but he wanted to make it more of a spectacle for you, if that can be believed. He visited a shop and had cookies made, and even sacrificed some of the money to spend the night in an inn. It still wasn’t nearly what you deserved, but he wanted you to feel loved by him. He’s not stupid, he knows he’s not very romantic verbally, so he had to rely on his actions to help. 

You, of course, nearly sob at the gesture. It was impossibly sweet, and it got his message across perfectly. 

“Happy birthday, Y/N.” He says after showing you the room you two would rest in for the night. You were taken with the space, it was bigger than Kakashi’s apartment, and it was decorated beautifully. The Mist definitely knew how to leisure. 

“Sasuke…this is great!” You beam, throwing your arms around his neck. “I love you!” 

“I love you. Don’t waste the cookies.” He says, returning your hug. He relished the way your body felt pressed against his, the way you tucked your face into his neck and the way your hands rubbed circles into his shoulder blades.  

You giggle at the sentiment, releasing him in favor of trying your birthday cookies. 

That night, you celebrate another first time, gifting all of yourselves to each other and demonstrating all your love. 

“I think we should be married.”  He says almost absentmindedly, the two of you walking by some official-looking building in the Stone. 

“Oh, is that so?” You reply with a short hum, wondering if he was being serious. Though, admittedly, he’s not the type to joke around. 

He hums in reply. “Yes. We’ve loved each other our whole lives, I think it’s safe to get married…I know that ladies enjoy things like that.” He adds, as if he hasn’t been daydreaming about marrying you since you sent chakra crows to celebrate that occasion for friends of yours. 

You arch your brow. “Just ladies, hm?” You tease with a gentle yet mischievous smile. 

“Not just, I…I believe you deserve to be a wife and not a girlfriend. That title undermines your importance to me.” He says, cheeks turning red despite your closeness.

You squeeze his hand. “Well, is that your way of proposing, Sasuke?” You whisper, almost afraid of looking up at him for his answer. 

He squeezes back. “Yes.”

“Then I say yes.” 

He stops walking and looks at you, a soft smile on his face. He holds your cheek and gives you a loving kiss. It says what he cannot find the words to, that you’ve made him the happiest man with that answer, that he wants to have your marriage in order immediately. 

“Would you like to have it done here, in the Stone?” You ask, looking over the village you were visiting. To be transparent, you didn’t much care where you were married and you didn’t care for a big party in an event. You would be more than happy to marry Sasuke quietly in the Hidden Stone and have the legal work forwarded to Kakashi to announce the celebration. 

“I would like that, dear Y/N.” 

And so that’s how it went, you visited the officials in the Hidden Stone and had them perform a short and simple wedding ceremony. You both remained in your regular shinobi clothes, only the giddiness on your face revealed the importance of the situation. 

You promised to love and support each other always, be honest and loyal forever, and to respect and honor each other above all else. When the village official pronounces you man and wife, you whoop and holler just to aggravate your new husband. He flusters, the only other person in attendance was the officiant, and even he chuckles at the scene. 

“Well go ahead, kids, make it official and kiss!” The old man cheers, his day made by the charm of young love. 

You don’t have to be told twice, leaning in to each other for a lengthy union. His lips were always a tad icy, giving you goosebumps every time. Everything else about him was warm, his hand on your face and the care he took in kissing you. Like usual, he rests his forehead against yours. This time his smile is hard to miss. 

“My lovely wife.” He muses, proud of himself for making the moves. He wishes Itachi were here to see him, he’s sure he would be proud of his choice of bride. He hopes that Shisui would be happy to see his little sister married to him. This was a long time in the making, fated to the highest degree. You were practically made for each other, and now you two will make a new Uchiha name. 

You two continue your missions as husband and wife, the last of the Uchiha united. Another year passes without incident. You miss Kakashi and the rest of your friends, getting word from Gaara in the Sand that Naruto and Hinata were married shortly after Sakura and Rock Lee. It makes you happy to know that all of your classmates were safe and enjoying their lives. Gaara congratulated you two on your marriage, just passing your first anniversary. He graciously offers for Sasuke and yourself to stay in the Sand for around a month or two, in order to rest and help them with some recurring invaders. 

The two of you agree to stay, being put up in a nicely sized inn room for the duration of your rest. The Inn reminds you of your birthday treat, and you two can’t help but recreate that night several times over the course of the next two months. 

It takes three and a half months to fully absolve Gaara of his concerns with the Sand. 

  There had been a string of violent robberies in the village, yet it seemed like the perpetrators were traveling into the village each time. It ended up being a team of rogue nin from another village, and you were able to take them into custody easily. Later that day, when debriefing Gaara on the situation, you nearly fainted. You were hit with a bout of lightheadedness and felt yourself fall into the wall that is your husband. 

One of the Sand shinobi brought you a chair and Sasuke helped lower you into it. Gaara hummed in concern. “Are you alright, Y/N? Should I send for the medical team?” He asks Sasuke, who looks to you. 

You wave off their concerns with a hum. “I’m probably just a little dehydrated, I can check.” You say in an effort to ease their worries. Your palm is covered in your chakra, allowing you to scan your body for any ailment. You place your hand over your kidneys, expecting to see a little damage. You were not expecting what you found instead as you gasp dramatically. 

“What is it?” Gaara asks with more concern. 

Sasuke crouches beside you, taking your free hand in his own. 

“I’m pregnant.” You say softly, lips parted with shock. The room is quiet for a few moments, Sasuke visibly surprised. His hand squeezes yours tighter. 

“Congratulations again, you two.” Gaara says with the trace of a smile. “Should I send word, or would you like to keep this between you for now?” 

“We need to make arrangements to go back to the Leaf.” Sasuke replies, his mind made up. You still couldn’t quite tell how he was feeling, but you didn’t want him to assume you were useless now. 

“Woah, Sasuke, I don’t want to go back home yet. We can wait until I’m further along! We can get so much more done.” You advocate, anchoring the hold on his hand to make him look at you instead of the Kazekage.

“I’ll not have you in harm's way, not now.” He says, effectively dismissing your argument. Anything can happen to you at any time. You’ve just changed his life, the entire way he thinks. He was going to be a father…

He couldn’t risk anything happening to you on this journey. You were the most important person in the world, the thought of anything happening to you already was unnerving but he selfishly wanted you to come along. But now it’s not just you, you were rebuilding the clan, a job much more important than his. He nods to Gaara, as if to say, ignore her and do what I’ve asked. Gaara nods back. 

“Sasuke, please, don’t just banish me!” You pout, still worried that he was upset about this surprise. He turns to face you, his features softer than just a few moments ago. 

“My love.” He breathes, holding your face and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’m not punishing you, I could never carry on if something happened to you and now the child. You won’t ever for a moment be alone if you don’t want to be, Kakashi would never forgive me if I didn't send you home. I’ll join you before it’s time, I promise. It’s my job to protect you.” He reminds, smiling softly. It’s a mix of emotion, he doesn’t want to miss you like that ever again. But he had to make a choice for someone other than himself, for you and what’s best for you now that you’re giving him the greatest gift a wife can give her husband, especially in this case. 

You reluctantly sigh. He was right, and you knew it. Part of you knew you wouldn’t be able to be a shinobi in the same capacity again, so you wanted to keep fighting to stay. 

In the end, Sasuke won. You’ve been back in the Leaf for five months, estimating yourself around six and a half months along at this point. You basically moved back in with Kakashi, who spends all of his spare time preparing for his grandchild. All the ladies of the Leaf are thrilled, doting on you as you dote on them. Many of you are pregnant, hoping for another generation of classmates, you all would joke. 

Hinata and you schemed the same way Sasuke’s and your mother did, planning playdates for children that aren’t even here yet. Sasuke was right, you were happier in the village with other women that knew what you were going through and the comfort of Kakashi and Naruto. Sasuke stays by your side in other ways, regularly sending his chakra crow clones to make sure that you and baby are healthy. Being apart this time isn’t as hard as it was before, maybe because you know he’ll come back this time or maybe because your relationship was much more concrete than it had been in years passed. In any event, you were counting down the days until he came home, just missing your lover.

You were over at Naruto and Hinata’s place when Sasuke came home, and he figured that would be the case based on the amount of times his crows had to track you there instead of his apartment or Kakashi’s. Hinata gets the door when you hear the knock, giggling happily at the visitor and escorting him into the living area. Sasuke hums at the sight of you, letting you jump all over him once you’ve realized he’s back. 

He chuckles at your behavior, kissing your forehead without embarrassment. Naruto and Sasuke exchange pleasantries, you can tell how the men have missed each other and you make a mental note to let them have some time to catch up soon. He comes back to you, resting his hand gently on the small bump you’ve formed. He thought pregnancy looked amazing on you, and he wondered how it was possible for you to grow even more beautiful to him. 

“I missed you.” You hum, resting your hand over his. 

“I missed you, my love.” He returned, and the sound of his voice makes your baby kick ferociously. You gasp and then giggle, Sasuke’s brow arching in careful confusion. You move his hand to the location of the kicks, and his eyes widen slightly when he feels the sensation of pressure. 

“They like the way your voice sounds, I think.” You giggle again, memorizing his shocked look. It was sweet, he was fascinated by it and couldn’t believe that he was the cause. 

“Oh, well, be nice to your mother.” He said, a small grin on his face, his hand moving in subconscious circles over your belly.  At this moment, everything is perfect. He never imagined a life like this for himself. His friends laugh and are happy to see him, the woman he’s wanted his entire life is at his side and growing his child in the first step to rebuilding their clan. 

You’re at peace, knowing the only thing you’re missing now is Kakashi, who was probably still working hard at keeping the village secure. You’re safe, loved beyond measure, and living the dream. You know your family would be proud of the shinobi and woman you became, and now you can only pass on their memory to the Uchiha you would give life to. 

“Would you like to go home?” Sasuke asks, and for the first time, you know exactly where home is.

-

-

-

tags: @cococola-cocaine @hinari27 @bbylime

#naruto x reader #sasuke x reader #sasuke series #inextricable #kakashi x reader

[gimmethatagustd]

venor (11) | kth + jjk

The barista at the university’s café keeps telling Jungkook not to come back, but Jungkook is too busy daydreaming about kissing the beauty marks on his face to be paying attention to his warnings.

○ Pairing: Tiger!Taehyung x Bunny!Jungkook

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Hybrids, predator/prey, college au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, light angst, eventual smut

○ Word Count: 8,963

○ Warnings: Bunny Koo is really cute (when is he not?), Jai wrote too much about ceramic pottery but now if you ever want to make your own terracotta flower pot you'll know how!, hand jobs, blow job, anal fingering, what the gworlies call self-lubrication aka slick, that awkward moment when you know your roommate heard you having sex and you're afraid to confront them in the living room

○ Notes: Me, in my pirate voice: There be smut ahead, mateys! For real though, I wrote this chapter with scrambled eggs for brains, so I apologize in advance for it being so… niche and weird jhsdkfjs. I hope you like it despite that.

○ Post Date: March 24, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Cross-Post

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Series Masterlist

Jungkook eventually goes home, but only after eating a hearty breakfast prepared by Hoseok at his insistence. There was no point in arguing with him; Hoseok’s hospitable nature would never let Jungkook leave without being fed and ensuring he had everything he needed to shower and freshen up for the day.

Such kindness leaves Jungkook buzzing with happiness as he makes the short but winding journey through campus to get to the prey side, smelling like Taehyung’s shampoo and carrying his small duffle bag slung over one shoulder. He doesn’t even care when people stare at the hickeys on his neck as he bounds up the stairs of his dormitory two at a time, not even bothering with the elevator so he can do something with the energy bottled inside him.

Surprisingly, even Yoongi’s nagging doesn’t make Jungkook less enthusiastic about life. He gives Yoongi a dopey smile and shrugs off his pestering questions.

“Where have you been! You didn’t answer my texts or calls! I thought you died,” Yoongi huffs as he follows Jungkook down the hall. 

Yoongi’s somewhat bristly orange tail swings back and forth. Jungkook feels bad thinking about how Taehyung’s tail moves more elegantly, even when he’s angry. He doesn’t feel bad enough to stop thinking, though. He has reached the most hopeless part of having a crush, the part when simply breathing reminds him of Taehyung. 

“Why would I have died?”

“You went to a predator’s house party, Jungkook-ah. How else am I supposed to react to you never coming home?”

Twirling around, Jungkook reaches their bedroom and flings the duffle bag onto his bed. He shrugs at Yoongi again and lets his body fall onto his bed next to the duffle bag, with his arms flopping lifelessly at his sides.

“I feel all loopy, hyung,” Jungkook smiles at Yoongi, eyes lidded and a permanent upturn of the corner of his lips. “The party got a little intense, but spending the night with Taehyung was so nice. He’s so sweet, hyung, you don’t even understand.”

Yoongi pouts with his arms crossed against his chest. He isn’t genuinely angry, just concerned. Jungkook finds Yoongi’s reaction endearing, considering there really isn’t anything to be worried about. Jungkook is more than fine, even if the situation with Byungchul shook him slightly. Jungkook thinks he understands Byungchul now. There’s no fear left in him for the wolf hybrid, only pity.

“What do you mean by intense?” Yoongi asks with narrowed eyes.

“It was nothing, hyung. I’m just happy I got to spend time with Tae.”

Watching Yoongi’s gaze drop from Jungkook’s face to his neck, Jungkook quickly lifts his shoulders and tilts his head to hide the splotches still dark on his skin. Taehyung told him that they would fade eventually, but sometimes, depending on how easily a person bruises, they can last a long time. Jungkook doesn’t know for sure, but he has a hunch that hickeys won’t fade from his skin for a long time.

“You better be careful,” Yoongi gestures to Jungkook’s neck, “Or else he’ll accidentally mate you.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook sits up and tries not to whine when Yoongi smirks at him.

“What? I’m just saying.”

“We’re not going to mate,” Jungkook mutters, a bit of the euphoria seeping out of him. “We’re not even together.”

Yoongi snorts at that. He rests his shoulder on the doorframe and gives Jungkook a curious look.

“You’re going on dates. You scent each other. He’s been courting you for months. How are you not together?”

Yoongi is right; Taehyung’s affections are obvious. If Jungkook were to make an assumption, he would think Taehyung probably even views their relationship as monogamous, even though they haven’t officially discussed their relationship status. Just the thought of Taehyung with anyone makes Jungkook feel sick.

“I guess…”

Yoongi rolls his eyes and lifts himself off the doorframe.

“Just tell him how you feel and get it all over with, Jungkook-ah. I can’t deal with this weird dance the two of you are doing around each other,” Yoongi mutters as he goes down the hall, his slippers shuffling along the hardwood floor.

“Easier said than done,” Jungkook groans and flops back onto his bed.

It shouldn’t be so difficult to talk to Taehyung. As Yoongi pointed out, they already behave like a couple. Perhaps that would be enough for some people, but Jungkook needs confirmation and a title. He may be old-fashioned or naive, but he’s always dreamt of having a real boyfriend, not the blurred lines that come with the hookup culture that’s more popular now. 

The thing is, in Jungkook’s dreams, it was always a prey boyfriend. He’s sure that if Taehyung has dreamt of a boyfriend, too, it has always been a predator boyfriend. 

If someone had told Jungkook that transferring to a new university would potentially bring him heartache and an existential crisis, he wonders if he would still have run away to Seoul with wide eyes and a pair of disappointed parents in his wake. 

Rolling onto his stomach, Jungkook leans off the end of his bed to grab his drawing tablet from his desk. Lying down while he sketches will hurt his lower back later, but he wants to burrow in his blankets and wait for the day to pass him by. Besides, at this rate, he might finish Taehyung’s portrait before everyone goes home for winter break. 

Assuming it won’t be too late. 

Upset with himself for letting so many doubts sour his bubbly mood, Jungkook pulls up his favorite Twitch streamer to rewatch her latest gameplay while he colors in the little beauty mark artfully placed on the tip of Taehyung’s nose that he regrets not having kissed yet. At least he has kissed the one on Taehyung’s lip, which he moves onto once he’s finished with Taehyung’s nose. As much as Jungkook loves all of Taehyung’s little details, his lips consume much of Jungkook’s aimless thoughts. 

As if summoned by those aimless thoughts, multiple text messages from Taehyung interrupt the video Jungkook is only somewhat paying attention to. 

vante95

hey bun

wyd

do you miss me yet

jkookie

Maybe

Do you miss me yet?

vante95

maybe

“Oh my god,” Jungkook huffs with a roll of his eyes, but his thumbs fly across his phone screen with a demanding response he’s sure won’t work but is worth a shot. 

jkookie

Leave early

vante95

lol i can’t

we’re short staffed anyway

jkookie

Tell them you’re sick

vante95

wow bun

this whole time i thought you were a law abiding citizen

now look at you

you punch one predator and you’re a villain 

evil incarnate 

Maybe Taehyung is right; Jungkook won’t admit it, though. A sense of responsibility was ingrained in Jungkook at a young age. It has taken very little time with Taehyung for that previous priority to dissipate in Jungkook’s mind. 

jkookie

Stop it 😠

vante95

cute

jkookie

If you’re not going to leave early then go back to working!

vante95

whatever bun wants 

hope you’re ready for our PG date 😘

Is Jungkook ready? Considering he has to kick his blankets off because his body grows too warm and the way his ears fall forward to hide his face when he faceplants into his pillow, he isn’t so sure. 

– 

Not to be a meme, but graphic design is Jungkook’s passion. He feels most at home with tablets and laptops, hunched over his desk with a blanket draped over his shoulders and a spinach-banana smoothie beside him. So when Taehyung holds open the door to the sculpture studio, and Jungkook is hit with the dusty scent of dried clay that cakes his nostrils and parches his throat, his confidence in his creative abilities immediately plummets. 

“Hardly anyone uses the studio on the weekends, and if they do, it’s on Sundays,” Taehyung beckons for Jungkook to follow him deeper into the studio, “So we should be alone.” 

Alone. 

Jungkook’s throat tingles when he inhales, maybe from the dusty air or the spike in Taehyung’s scent when he utters that loaded word. They’ve spent so much time together alone; it shouldn’t feel different today. So why does it? 

Taehyung’s tail flicks around his ankles as he weaves through the wooden tables scattered around the room. They’re covered in thick fabric that leaves dusty marks on Jungkook’s black sweatpants when he brushes against them. The entire room is blanketed with a thin layer of ceramic dust. No wonder Taehyung brought a travel-sized bottle of lotion in his backpack. Jungkook can only imagine how dehydrated the skin on his hands will be by the end of the afternoon.

Along the cinder block walls are shelves of pottery and little bottles of what, upon further inspection, Jungkook learns are ceramic glazes used to paint the pottery. 

“The kiln is in that room,” Taehyung explains as he points to an unmarked door on the opposite side of the room. “And that’s the pug mill. I’ll show you how to use it, but you need an apron first.” 

“Kiln, pug mill,” Jungkook repeats the odd words to himself. 

Taehyung nods enthusiastically as if he’s proud that Jungkook is learning. It’s cute to watch Taehyung navigate the room with so much confidence. He’s in his element, even more so than he had been at the museum. This time, it’s clear that Taehyung owns this space. It’s his domain. 

Along one wall is a row of clay-caked aprons hanging on brass hooks. Taehyung slips one over his head and ties the apron’s strings behind his back to secure the fabric protecting his ripped jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt. 

Jungkook smiles shyly when Taehyung grabs a soft, forest-green apron to loop over his head. His large hands are gentle when they squeeze Jungkook’s hips to turn him around so he can tie the strings around his waist. 

“Don’t want to mess up your clothes,” Taehyung murmurs softly, his touch lingering on Jungkook’s body. He slips his fingers under the hem of Jungkook’s hoodie, letting out a pleased hum when his fingers lightly skirt the smooth skin of Jungkook’s waist because he isn’t wearing a shirt underneath. 

Jungkook shivers when Taehyung pulls away. 

“Your clothes,” Jungkook corrects and feels heat spread across his cheeks when Taehyung winks at him.

On the walk to the academic building that houses the art department, Taehyung tasked Jungkook with brainstorming what he wanted to make at the studio and the method he wanted to use: hand-building or the potter’s wheel. Now that Jungkook has seen the three low-seated electric potter’s wheels in the corner of the room, Jungkook isn’t sure he wants to experiment with something that looks so intimidating. Still, he’s also worried about how crude his pottery will look if he molds it by hand. 

“You still don’t know what you want, do you?” Taehyung quirks an eyebrow at Jungkook as he folds his sleeves, pushing them past his elbows. 

“Not really...” 

With a bitten bottom lip, Taehyung pauses to look over Jungkook again. He huffs when he releases his bottom lip and subtly smirks. 

“Well, I know what I want.” 

Jungkook may be naive, but he’s sure Taehyung isn’t only talking about making art. 

“You were going to show me how to use that?” Jungkook changes the subject quickly, unsure if he can survive whatever Taehyung is pulling. He gestures to the odd cylinder machine Taehyung had referred to as the pug mill. 

Taehyung lets out what sounds like a purr when he slips past Jungkook to remove the lid of a giant bin beside the machine. He explains that the bin is full of terracotta clay. He shows Jungkook how to load the pug mill with clay and watches as the machine spits the lumps back out as a smooth cylinder. Using a short wire with little wooden handles at the end, Taehyung cuts off the clay for Jungkook to carry to the table. 

“It packs the clay and gets all the air out,” Taehyung explains as he gathers more tools for Jungkook, including a bowl of water with a squishy, worn-looking sponge floating in the middle. 

“Why?” 

“If the clay has air bubbles in it, it might explode when it gets fired in the kiln, and then you’ll fuck up your art and everyone else’s.” 

“Oh,” Jungkook gasps as he lowers onto a wobbly, dusty stool at the table. He’s pleased when Taehyung sits beside him, bumping their shoulders together playfully. “Has that happened to you before?”

Taehyung watches Jungkook with a small smile. He props his head up by resting his elbow on the dusty table and holding his chin in his hand. The studio’s windows aren’t large, but they’re high on the walls, and the golden sun rays of the dying autumn day make Taehyung’s amber eyes glow. 

“Someone else’s project exploded and broke mine once,” Taehyung finally looks away to start cutting off a lump of clay for each of them. 

“What was your art of?” 

“A figurine of a mushroom that was actually just a dick,” Taehyung flashes Jungkook a wicked grin, “I was really immature in high school.” 

“I thought this date was supposed to be rated PG.” Jungkook scrunches his nose, and Taehyung throws his head back with a deep laugh, making Jungkook’s skin prickle.

“How many curse words and dick jokes am I allowed?” 

“To be considered PG? I don’t think any!” 

Imagining a teenage Taehyung is funny. Jungkook sees a tall, lanky boy with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes and a rebellious streak that means he isn’t afraid to be himself, even if his interests are unique – that’s precisely why people are drawn to him. The image greatly differs from Jungkook’s teen years, when he was a shy little bunny who spent more time playing video games and talking to his friends on instant messaging platforms than exploring the outside world. 

“Bun?” 

Blinking, Jungkook quickly looks away when he realizes he’s been staring at Taehyung. Just when he thought he’d moved past his dreamy thoughts about Taehyung, they swoop back to snatch him up. 

“Sorry, I’m paying attention.” 

Smirking, Taehyung turns back to the lump of clay they each have in front of them. 

“I’m guessing you don’t want to use the wheel.” Taehyung chuckles when Jungkook fervently shakes his head. “So these are the tools you’ll probably want to use to help you shape the clay into what you want–” 

“A little flower pot, like the one you gave me,” Jungkook interrupts, keeping his eyes on the small wooden tools on the table. They’re smooth and lightweight in his hand and safer to look at than Taehyung’s heavy gaze. 

“A flower pot is a great idea.” 

Taehyung’s voice is so soft that Jungkook immediately looks up, and his insides turn to jelly from how sweetly Taehyung observes him. It’s a brief expression, quickly disappearing once Taehyung’s been caught. 

Clearing his throat, Taehyung continues explaining how Jungkook should approach making his flower pot using wooden tools and a bowl of water to keep the clay wet and pliable. Jungkook only half listens. It’s too easy to fall into the low lull of Taehyung’s voice, so gentle and smooth, like velvet against skin. 

“For our next date–” 

“You think I’ll want to go on a third date with you?” Jungkook interrupts, peeking at Taehyung’s shocked expression in his peripheral vision. 

“Wow, okay, rude.” 

“I’m kidding!” Giggling in a way that cutely accentuates his front teeth, Jungkook squints up at Taehyung and bumps their shoulders together. 

“Nah, it’s fine. We don’t have to go on another date.”

Jungkook gives Taehyung a gentle, but still sharp, kick to the shin that makes him try to scoot his stool away, the metal legs screeching horribly against the concrete floor. 

“Tell me what you were going to say!” 

“What I was going to say …” Glaring at Jungkook with mock indignation, Taehyung sniffles dramatically, “Was that for our next date, I want to do something to learn more about your tech stuff.” 

“Tech stuff.” 

Taehyung side-eyes him. 

“Yeah, tech stuff. You get what I mean.”

“Video games.”

“Yeah, video games.” 

The back of Jungkook’s hand is the only clean part, so that’s what he presses to his mouth to stifle his laughter at Taehyung’s ridiculous request, not because of the request itself, but how he requests it. 

“We can do that,” Jungkook says with a scrunched nose and rounded cheeks that he knows Taehyung can’t resist, even if he pretends not to think Jungkook’s giggling is cute. 

By now, Taehyung should know that Jungkook will agree to anything he requests. 

Crafting a flower pot, even a small one meant to hold a tiny succulent similar to the one Taehyung gifted Jungkook, proves difficult for Jungkook, though. If he isn’t pressing too hard into the clay and denting it in a way that makes it uneven on one side, he’s accidentally making the walls too thin or thick.

“It’ll shrink in the kiln. All the moisture evaporates,” Taehyung points out when Jungkook’s first flower pot is too small. Despite Taehyung politely telling Jungkook that he is doing his project incorrectly, it warms Jungkook’s chest when Taehyung explains the process to him.

His second attempt is an acceptable size but wonky and oddly shaped, even if Taehyung insists that it’s cute. Jungkook doesn’t want a cute flower pot; he wants a proper flower pot. Meanwhile, Taehyung’s flower pot is perfectly shaped and decorated with an intricate design he carved on the exterior with a sharp wooden tool. It’s a bit infuriating how lovely it looks.

Not one to back down from a challenge, Jungkook makes two more flower pots until he is satisfied with his final outcome. Flower Pot #4 fits in two hands and is deep enough to accommodate plant growth, giving room for roots to stretch out in the soil.

“I still think it would have been easier if you’d let me show you how to use the wheel,” Taehyung comments after Jungkook shows off Flower Pot #4.

Jungkook shakes his head.

“It looks scary.”

“Like me?” Taehyung teases, his boyish grin growing wider when Jungkook playfully slaps his arm. 

Jungkook gasps in horror when he realizes he has left behind a handprint of clay on Taehyung’s shirt.

“I’m so sorry.” Jungkook swivels around in his stool with both hands held up. There must be something to clean Taehyung off with?

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“Bun, you’re fine,” Taehyung insists, standing up. “Come on.”

Taehyung shows Jungkook how to use another machine to flatten the leftover clay so he can carve out little shapes to attach to the side of his pot as three-dimensional decorations. It’s cliche, but Jungkook meticulously carves out petals to create little flowers scattered about the pot, using one of the tools to draw little cuts into the clay and using the wet sponge and a bit of slippery clay to attach the decorations.

“What you’re doing is called scoring.” Taehyung carefully maneuvers Jungkook’s flower pot to inspect his hard work once they’ve sat back down. “You scratch the surface of each piece so they fit together, and then you use the sponge and really wet clay, sort of like glue, to adhere the pieces together. That’s called slick.”

“What ?” Jungkook squeaks, turning to the side so quickly to look at Taehyung that he almost falls off his stool.

A pretty pink blush blooms on each of Taehyung’s cheeks. He clears his throat and continues cleaning up the excess water droplets and wet clay from the flower pot, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze.

“It’s called slip,” Taehyung quietly corrects himself in a gruff voice. “Slip.”

Jungkook is unsure whether he should be embarrassed or amused by such a terrible mixup. Part of him wants to tease Taehyung over the Freudian slip, but he doesn’t want to rub salt in the wound.

The thing is, now Jungkook has slick in his head, and his brain doesn’t seem to want to move past it. The slip is slippery against his fingers as he finishes binding the final decorations on his flower pot, slippery like something else. It makes Jungkook think about the night before, the image of Taehyung on his knees in front of Jungkook hooking its claws in his brain and refusing to let go. He can practically feel phantom kisses tingling up his legs, Taehyung’s face nuzzling in the crease of his thigh.

“Are you done?”

Taehyung’s question forces Jungkook out of yet another daydream.

“Oh, um, yes,” Jungkook says quietly.

Despite the studio’s cold temperature due to its location in the basement and the windows letting in a slight draft, Jungkook feels like he’s burning up under his sweatpants and hoodie. It doesn’t help that Taehyung’s irises look a bit darker now, and his pupils a bit wider; however, those things could just be the studio’s lighting playing tricks on Jungkook.

Unfortunately, there’s no denying how Jungkook’s scent spikes when Taehyung leans into his personal space. They lock eyes with each other, neither willing to break the link they’ve created as Taehyung reaches out to pull Jungkook’s flower pot toward him by the piece of cardboard it’s sitting on. Taehyung’s forearm brushes against Jungkook’s chest, and he exhales sharply. It’s embarrassing, especially since all Taehyung is doing is taking Jungkook’s pot to place it alongside his own on a shelf to dry before Taehyung’s professor loads it into the kiln with the other students’ art.

“Do you want to keep the other pots?” If Taehyung’s voice sounds rougher once he has returned to lean against the table, that could be Jungkook’s ears playing tricks on him from how quiet the studio is.

“They’re ugly,” Jungkook pouts and gets a roll of Taehyung’s eyes in return.

“No, they’re not. They’re unique.”

“I hate them.”

“Alright, the pretty bunny gets what the pretty bunny wants.” 

With a teasing smile, Taehyung grabs the remaining three flower pots and drops them into the large bin of clay near the pug mill.

So much unadulterated attention from Taehyung is beginning to overwhelm Jungkook. It’s the damn slip! It’s got his brain all scrambled and his body feverish.

It takes the violent vibration of Jungkook’s phone on the table, disturbing dust that makes Jungkook sneeze, to knock his brain back into place. Unable to answer it because his hands are caked in clay, Jungkook stares up at Taehyung with wide eyes and a helpless pout. His phone is already dirtied from the dusty table; he should have slipped it into his apron’s front pocket.

“Tae, help me.” 

“You’re so cute,” Taehyung laughs and motions for Jungkook to follow him to the industrial sink in the back of the studio so they can wash their hands.

Jungkook tries his best not to think about how pretty Taehyung’s hands are, with wide palms and long, slender fingers. Jungkook thinks Taehyung has what the classic writers would describe as the hands of a pianist, deft and sensual. He wonders if Taehyung knows how to play any instruments, and wouldn’t be surprised if Taehyung knew how to play everything.

“It was Yoongi hyung asking where I am,” Jungkook announces once his hands are clean and he can safely check his phone.

Taehyung hums as he puts away their aprons and retrieves his backpack from where he stashed it out of the way.

“Does he think I murdered you for real this time?”

Jungkook stops sending a text to Yoongi so he can cover his face with his hands and groan. Yoongi’s reaction to Jungkook sleeping over at Taehyung’s dorm was embarrassing; Jungkook should’ve never told Taehyung about it. He’s sure Taehyung will never let it go.

“Hey, bun,” Taehyung laughs as he wraps his hands around Jungkook’s wrists to pry his hands away from his face. He ducks his head, forcing Jungkook to look him in the eyes. “I’m teasing you.”

“I know, but it’s still embarrassing, and I wish I hadn’t told you what he said,” Jungkook pouts again and wiggles out of Taehyung’s grasp.

With a gasp and a hand clutching his heart, Taehyung stumbles back in offense. 

“Bun, friends don’t keep secrets from each other.”

Jungkook laughs Taehyung’s joke off, but as the two men brave the chilly autumn night and walk back to Jungkook’s dorm, he can’t help but think of Yoongi’s comment about them mating. Predators and prey are barely friends; they certainly can’t be mates.

Despite the discouragement that seems to haunt Jungkook around every corner, he holds this naive, childlike hope in his heart that Taehyung won’t hurt him. Speaking as a predator, Taehyung has already promised Jungkook he won’t. Jungkook just hopes that Taehyung will keep Jungkook’s heart as safe as his body.

Once they reach the front door of the prey dormitory, Taehyung asks, “Did you enjoy our PG date?”

He looks so classically like a bad boy in a leather jacket with one hand pressed to the building’s brick exterior just above Jungkook’s head, molars chewing the inside of his cheek, and a lazy way to how he speaks that tells everyone he isn’t in a rush to get out of a part of campus he isn’t allowed to be in. Whereas Jungkook is nervous every time the front door opens and startled prey hybrids cross the threshold, whispering about the predator with a prey pressed against the wall, Taehyung doesn’t pay attention to anyone but Jungkook.

Yoongi said Taehyung would cause Jungkook trouble. When Jungkook stares into Taehyung’s dark eyes and struggles to breathe, he knows Yoongi is right.

“I did,” Jungkook whispers through an exhale. He licks his lips before he speaks again and shivers when Taehyung’s quick eyes track the movement. “Blood on a date isn’t ideal.”

“Not usually.” Taehyung smirks and the curl of his top lip exposes a sharp canine.

Jungkook tries to think about something other than when it would be appropriate for blood to be involved in a date.

He thinks about how perfect their date has been and how he doesn’t want it to end even though they’ve spent the past twenty-four hours together.

“Do you want to come upstairs?”

For a moment, the only sound that passes between them is their breathing as it harmonizes. They don’t smell like each other, only like ceramic dust and the cocoa butter lotion they moisturized their hands with. Jungkook wants to get on his tiptoes and nuzzle the crook of Taehyung’s neck, but he keeps his feet rooted to the ground and his hands shoved into the front pocket of his hoodie.

“Yeah,” Taehyung’s reply is just as soft as Jungkook’s question. It mixes with the wind that ruffles Jungkook’s bangs, dancing along his forehead like the tickle of a kiss.

Taehyung intertwines their fingers when Jungkook leads them through the dormitory’s front door. Jungkook doesn’t know why he’s so nervous as he brings Taehyung upstairs, his heart in his throat and his palm sweaty against Taehyung’s. Usually giddy with the prospect of spending more time with his crush, Jungkook struggles to even input the code to his apartment without trembling fingers. He hopes Taehyung doesn’t notice, though he doubts it’s possible for him not to.

“Yoongi hyung is home,” Jungkook mentions quietly.

Taehyung isn’t perturbed. He removes his shoes and hangs his jacket on the hooks at the door like he belongs there despite being too tall, too broad. His tail playfully swats Jungkook’s calf as he walks past him down the hall toward the living room, where Yoongi is curled up on the couch, unsurprisingly. 

Looking up, Yoongi eyes Taehyung suspiciously as he sets his laptop on the coffee table and takes off his headphones.

“Hey Yoongi,” Taehyung greets with a dazzling smile that even makes Yoongi’s cheeks grow pink and his ears flatten in what others might think is annoyance, but what Jungkook knows is embarrassment.

“Hello Taehyung… Jungkook.” Yoongi narrows his eyes at Jungkook when he creeps around the corner to peer around Taehyung’s body.

“Hi,” Jungkook’s voice wobbles, and Yoongi’s eyes narrow even more. “Taehyung and I are going to be in our room, but, um, just let me know if you need anything, hyung.”

With a tug on Taehyung’s wrist, Jungkook leads him out of the living room and pushes him toward the bedroom. Being introverts, Yoongi and Jungkook rarely have friends over, and when they do, they always hang out in the kitchen or living room. Belatedly, Jungkook realizes he’s never had anyone other than Yoongi and Suyun in their bedroom.

“I forgot you guys share a room,” Taehyung admits once Jungkook closes the door behind them.

“You don’t have to stay here,” Jungkook rushes to start apologizing, his nerves skyrocketing now that Taehyung might not even want to hang out with him.

“You’re such a skittish bunny today.”

Exploring the small but lively bedroom, Taehyung is immediately drawn to Jungkook’s desk. It’s solid and made of wood, with a few drawers where Jungkook stores school supplies and various tech equipment. The desk’s surface is a bit crammed, barely fitting Jungkook’s desktop monitor and laptop, with his drawing tablet sitting dangerously on the edge. The adjacent wall is decorated with polaroids because Jungkook is sentimental and cliche. Most feature Yoongi and Suyun, with high school friends thrown into the mix. There are a few prints taped to the wall, primarily of digital art Jungkook has drawn, but also some he has bought online by small artists. The art ranges from BL fanart to abstract designs; whatever little pieces made Jungkook’s heart happy when he saw them.

It shouldn’t surprise Jungkook that Taehyung picks up his tablet when he admires Jungkook’s extensive gaming setup. Video games aren’t a language Taehyung can use to communicate with Jungkook, but art is.

“When will you show me my portrait?” Taehyung muses, his usually sharp eyes rounding out as he juts out his bottom lip. Feigned innocence from a predator is dangerous. “I’ve waited so long.”

Maybe this is what has turned Jungkook into a nervous mess. For weeks, he has been thinking about a gift for Taehyung, especially ever since Suyun pointed out that Taehyung is courting Jungkook—allegedly. Courting is a way to express the intent to mate with someone, or at least the possibility of wanting to in the future, something that only happens within prey and predator groups, not between them.

Yet Jungkook wants to give Taehyung something in return. Maybe it’s because Jungkook is naive for having hope that there could be something more between them. Maybe it’s because Taehyung makes his heart flutter and his stomach flip, and Jungkook feels sick thinking about anyone else’s scent mixing with Taehyung’s and anyone else getting to kiss him.

“Do you want to see it now?” Jungkook asks quietly as he takes his tablet from Taehyung.

He knows Taehyung will want to. He’s already opening the file on his tablet when Taehyung murmurs, “Yes, please.”

Sitting on his bed, Jungkook pats the space next to him so Taehyung can sit down, too. They seemed silly, standing in the middle of Jungkook’s room.

“I’m not done with it yet, so there are still a lot of little things I need to edit, but…” Jungkook trails off, his face hot and his stomach in knots, as Taehyung takes the tablet again.

With a deep breath, Jungkook pulls his legs to his chest and wraps his arms around his bent knees while he waits for Taehyung to finish inspecting the portrait. The simple design highlights the little details of Taehyung’s face. The focal point is the bright amber hue of his eyes, followed by the constellation of beauty marks that freckle his face.

It means something to immortalize someone in art. Taehyung will forever be part of Jungkook’s portfolio, frozen in time with copper curls and a cupid’s bow that Jungkook spent hours shading the perfect pink.

“Bun…”

When Taehyung looks up, his expression is unreadable, nearly blank. It makes Jungkook nervous. This reaction wasn’t what he’d expected, nowhere near the excitement he thought Taehyung would have. Taehyung’s tail doesn’t even flick; it rests lifelessly on Jungkook’s bed.

“Um,” Jungkook picks at the drawstrings of his pants to stop his hands from shaking, “Like I said, it’s not done yet. I need to add more details and some shading; it still looks a little flat. And I haven’t decided on the background yet, but I have some ideas that I—”

Taehyung’s lips steal the rest of Jungkook’s thought, but he would have freely given it up if he’d known a kiss was the unnecessary but welcomed payment he’d receive for pouring his love for Taehyung into his art. The kiss is more than welcomed; Jungkook is comforted, and his confidence is fueled by it.

Taehyung cradles the back of Jungkook’s head with his free hand as he kisses him, keeping him stable so their lips can glide together. It’s different this time, the way Taehyung kisses him. It’s more ardent, even a bit forceful, though Jungkook willingly follows his lead, even if he fumbles a few times because of his desire to keep up. It’s hot and wet, Taehyung slipping his tongue into Jungkook’s mouth to swirl it around Jungkook’s tongue.

No one has ever kissed Jungkook with tongue. The sensation makes his cheeks flush, and his hands tremble when they search for something to hold onto, eventually grabbing fistfuls of the front of Taehyung’s t-shirt. He’s embarrassed by his body’s natural reaction as his tongue pushes back against Taehyung’s in a slippery dance.

“Tae…” Jungkook moans, breathy and desperate, when Taehyung finally pulls away to give them a chance to breathe.

“You’re so talented,” Taehyung murmurs against Jungkook’s lips, his sharp nose bumping against the rounded tip of Jungkook’s. “God, you’re amazing, bun.”

The praise strokes the fire rumbling in the pit of Jungkook’s stomach, drawing from somewhere in his core and igniting every vein it crosses until he feels like he’s burning from the inside out. It makes him scrunch his nose in a bunny smile, his brain loopy and floaty like it had been after he left Taehyung’s apartment.

“It’s good because you’re pretty, Tae.”

It’s true, even if Taehyung rolls his eyes to push the compliment into the back of his head. Taehyung is pretty.

“It’s good because you drew it.”

Both statements can be true; Jungkook is too distracted to make sense. Taehyung’s tan cheeks are a dusty pink from them sharing body heat. The outside of their legs press together from how they sit, and their torsos twist so they can face each other. One of Taehyung’s hands still holds the back of Jungkook’s head. The other sets the tablet to the side and lightly squeezes Jungkook’s thigh just above his knee.

Taehyung’s eyes are lidded and heavy, but Jungkook sits close enough to tell he’s got that wild look in them again, pupils dilated and irises darkened. It’s a carnivorous look, hungry and greedy. For a split second, fear grips Jungkook’s ribs like a caged animal, shooting something icy and piercing into the center of his heart.

Run.

His body screams at him to obey his instincts. The warning is so thunderous inside him that his breathing turns ragged, made worse by Taehyung leaning in as he slides his hand further up Jungkook’s thigh.

“You’re scared of me,” Taehyung’s voice is silvery and hypnotic. The beguiling tone beckons Jungkook, made more tempting when Taehyung’s tail curls around the back of Jungkook’s knee.

Jungkook shakes his head, but he can’t hide how rapidly his heart beats when Taehyung presses his lips over the pulse in his neck, nor can he hide the smell of his arousal permeating the room, especially to a predator with more enhanced senses than he has. He reaches for Taehyung’s soft curls to gently tug on them when Taehyung’s tongue licks broad strokes over the scent gland at the crook of his neck. Willingly, he tilts his head to give Taehyung better access to his throat and lets out a shuddery exhale when Taehyung licking and sucking his neck sends a tingling feeling all the way to his toes. On his next inhale, Jungkook feels his arousal build, making him wet as he breathes in the sweet summer thunderstorm their mingled scents create.

“Ahh, Taehyung...”

“Hmm?”

“I…” Jungkook’s voice cracks when Taehyung pushes the hem of his hoodie to run his hand up his bare chest. His pinky brushes one of Jungkook’s nipples as his palm slides upward, making Jungkook whine.

“You what?”

“I don’t know what to do.”

Saying the words out loud is too difficult; Jungkook can’t bring himself to be direct, even with Taehyung’s mouth marking up his body and slick making him uncomfortably wet. He hopes Taehyung catches on and thinks he does when he pulls back far enough to look Jungkook in the eyes.

The bedroom lights are still on, making Jungkook feel exposed. Taehyung can  see  him. He can see Jungkook’s flushed face, heaving chest, and glazed-over eyes. He can see Jungkook’s body tremble with a mountain of insecurities he didn’t know he had until now.

“What have you done?” Taehyung’s voice rumbles so deeply that it sounds like a growl.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

Chewing his bottom lip, Jungkook nods slowly.

“It’s okay, bun,” Taehyung whispers as he leans in again, pressing kisses against the sensitive skin he’d sucked bruises on the night before, “I can be gentle.”

The soft promise makes Jungkook tremble and slick even more.

Taehyung drags his palm down Jungkook’s bare chest, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Eventually, he curls his fingers around the slim curve of Jungkook’s waist. Jungkook is naturally petite as a prey hybrid, but Taehyung’s large hand makes him feel even smaller.

Closing his eyes, Jungkook lets Taehyung guide him onto his back with his mouth capturing Jungkook’s and his palm pressed against the inside of Jungkook’s thigh to spread his legs apart for Taehyung to fit between them. Despite the icy fear that has melted into lukewarm nervousness about having a predator caging him in against his mattress, Taehyung’s closeness feels good. He’s warm and solid, a comfortable weight that presses down on Jungkook’s hips. It should be scary, and maybe it still is a little bit, but Jungkook mostly feels restless anticipation that eats away at his nervous system.

With his forearms resting above Jungkook’s shoulders, Taehyung brings himself down to kiss him as he rolls his hips into Jungkook’s spread legs, grinding their cocks together hard enough for Jungkook to gasp against Taehyung’s mouth.

“Mmmm,” Taehyung hums as he takes advantage of Jungkook’s parted lips to bite his bottom lip, tugging it into his mouth to suck it.

Jungkook curls his arms around Taehyung’s neck, tugging him down until their chests touch. He can feel their stomachs flutter, each breathing too hard to move in harmony, especially when Jungkook tries to meet Taehyung’s hips with each roll. Bucking up, he throws off Taehyung’s rhythm, making Taehyung release his lip with a turn of his head to chuckle against the vulnerable skin of Jungkook’s throat.

“You’re so hot,” Taehyung purrs.

“Am I?” It’s a genuine question, not Jungkook fishing for compliments, though the feeling Taehyung’s praise gives him is indescribable.

“Don’t believe me?”

The look Taehyung gives Jungkook is wicked, nothing like the teasing, boyish charm he usually smothers Jungkook with when they’re flirting under the guise of bantering. This look makes Jungkook’s stomach swoop and dip dangerously low.

“I… I don’t know,” Jungkook whispers, on the verge of cardiac arrest as Taehyung slowly lowers himself down Jungkook’s body.

“Oh bun,” Taehyung sighs like he’s disappointed in Jungkook’s answer. It makes Jungkook’s cheeks burn. “Do I need to show you just how hot I think you are?”

Taehyung’s wild eyes stare into Jungkook’s as he props himself up on his forearms to better see where Taehyung is now: on his stomach between his legs. He can’t speak and doesn’t even bother trying to when Taehyung curls his fingers around the elastic waistband of Jungkook’s sweatpants and slowly pulls them down, simultaneously unraveling Jungkook’s sanity.

“Lift your hips for me, bun.”

The whimper that slips from Jungkook’s lips is pathetic, breathy, and weak. He does as he’s told and gives up trying to be quiet as he hiccups through shallow breaths when Taehyung tugs his pants all the way down, taking his underwear with them to leave Jungkook fully exposed.

“Such a cute little cock,” Taehyung purrs, dark eyes shooting up to watch Jungkook’s face light up bright red.

Taehyung may have promised to be gentle, but he doesn’t hesitate. His hand wraps around Jungkook’s cock with confidence, his thumb immediately swiping over the precum that has already wet the tip.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook whines through his teeth in a poor attempt to keep quiet.

Yoongi’s presence right across the hall looms over Jungkook’s head as Taehyung begins pumping his cock, spreading the slippery precum in circles around the head with his thumb before spreading it further down to aid in the drag of his palm along the shaft.

Jungkook can’t stop squirming, even when Taehyung hooks one of his arms around his thigh to keep him still. All Taehyung is doing is jerking him off languidly and with a loose grip. Still, Jungkook already feels the overwhelming pressure of his orgasm building and pulsing every time Taehyung’s big hands engulf his cock.

“Fuck, you’re so sensitive. You’re soaking the bed,” Taehyung groans as he uses his grip on Jungkook’s thigh to spread him open further.

Jungkook chokes on his next inhale when Taehyung ducks his head to lick a fat stripe up Jungkook’s inner thigh, quietly moaning when he tastes Jungkook’s slippery slick. The visual of Taehyung’s wet, shiny lips and the sound of his low moan are enough to send Jungkook over the edge. He cums with a wail his neighbors and Yoongi are sure to hear, his eyes squeezed shut and his head thrown so far back that he can barely hold himself up on his forearms.

He only gets a few seconds to catch his breath before Taehyung starts pumping his cock again, the slide this time much smoother and more sensual since he uses Jungkook’s cum like lube.

“Tae-Taehyung, wait,” Jungkook gasps as he tries to sit up. He doesn’t get far. Taehyung’s clean palm presses against his lower abdomen, pushing him backward to rest on his forearms again despite the tremble ripples through his legs.

“Relax, bun, sit back and trust me.”

Jungkook doesn’t understand until Taehyung squeezes the base of his cock, holding it in place so he can keep it steady when he flicks his tongue against the wet tip, tasting him again.

“Tae —”

“You’re still hard,” Taehyung smirks as he tilts his head so he can press an open-mouthed kiss to the side of Jungkook’s cock and licks away the cum left behind on his lips. “And I heard bunnies can cum more than once. Is that true?”

It is, but Jungkook doesn’t know that as a fact. No one has ever gotten him off before, and the times he’s gotten off alone, he doesn’t think he was ever aroused enough to still be hard after. It has to be Taehyung doing this to him, but Jungkook can’t verbalize any of this. Every time he opens his mouth, a high-pitched moan comes out instead of actual words.

Not waiting for an answer to his question, Taehyung locks eyes with Jungkook as he closes his lips around the head of his cock. He suckles the head hard as he massages the underside with his tongue.

“Oh, my g-god, T-Tae,” Jungkook sobs, all his concerns about being too loud leaving his mind.

Everything leaves his mind. His brain completely blanks when Taehyung sucks more of his cock into his mouth with a low hum. He easily takes the whole thing until his nose is pressed against Jungkook’s lower abdomen, swallowing consecutively, each time harder than the last.

Jungkook can’t breathe. He digs his fingers into his blankets and squeezes them so tightly that he draws his entire body taunt. He doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even blink, just watches Taehyung bob his head to a rhythm just slow enough to keep Jungkook’s second orgasm at bay.

That is until Taehyung squeezes one of Jungkook’s thighs and presses it up so his bent leg drapes over Taehyung’s shoulder. Hot tears slip down Jungkook’s cheeks when Taehyung reaches between Jungkook’s legs to ease a long finger past his rim, the slick taking away any resistance. Swallowing at the same time he presses against Jungkook’s walls with his finger, Taehyung coaxes a second orgasm out of Jungkook as if he played him like an instrument.

Jungkook thinks he blacks out. Something skips in his brain, some kind of blip, like a scratched record or a flicker of the lights during a thunderstorm. His throat and chest burn, and his head throbs with the onset of a migraine.

Collapsing onto his back, Jungkook pants heavily. His arms and legs give out, flopping lifelessly at his sides. He thinks he hears Taehyung speak, but the ringing in his ears drowns out everything. It’s almost as disorienting as the black spots speckling his vision. The spots swim to new positions in his eyes every time he blinks, some tiny pinpricks while others are splotches large enough to block out whole items in his vision.

“Bun,” Taehyung calls out to him.

When Jungkook blinks, most of the black spots are gone, and he can see Taehyung’s pretty eyes staring into his soul. They’re bright, a soft amber, and his pupils are back to normal. Rather than lust twisting his expression, concern wrinkles his forehead.

“Hi,” Jungkook winces when his voice comes out hoarse.

“Fuck, you freaked me out,” Taehyung admits weakly. He brushes Jungkook’s sweaty bangs away from his face to kiss his forehead. “You, like, passed out while still being conscious.”

Jungkook scrunches his nose. “I don’t think that’s a thing, Tae.”

“Well, it just happened, and it freaked me the fuck out.”

Taehyung continues caressing Jungkook’s head, running his  now clean  fingers through Jungkook’s hair. It’s relaxing and contributes to the warm, sleepy feeling seeping into Jungkook’s body.  Taehyung just got him off.  His pretty, sweet, talented, funny, hot, precious tiger gave Jungkook two mind-blowing orgasms. Jungkook might consciously pass out again.

“Sorry for freaking you out,” Jungkook apologizes with a sweet smile that Taehyung can’t resist. He ducks his head down to kiss Jungkook, though this kiss is gentle and innocent — aside from the fact that Jungkook can taste himself on Taehyung. That in itself makes Jungkook’s stomach stir.

“I’m never giving you head ever again.”

Scrunching his eyebrows, Jungkook pouts as Taehyung helps him sit up and put his pants on. He cringes when he notices how wet the bed is; Taehyung hadn’t just said that to be sexy.

“No, it was nice. I liked it.”

“Of course you did,” Taehyung’s snort ends in a cocky smirk, “I’m great at it. But, also, everyone likes getting head.”

Emboldened by his sexual awakening — or perhaps lacking inhibitions from having a blank, loopy, fucked out brain — Jungkook eyes Taehyung’s crotch.

“Does that mean you like it?”

“Jungkook.” Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s chin and forces him to look at him. “I think your brain hasn’t gotten enough oxygen.”

“Taehyung,” Jungkook whines, beating his fist softly against the bed. “I want to make you feel good, too. Let me try.”

Taehyung doesn’t let go of Jungkook’s face, but his hold slackens as he closes his eyes. He takes a deep, intentional breath that’s shaky when exhaled, despite how seemingly unaffected he is otherwise. Jungkook may not have the predatory urge to devour like Taehyung does, but he likes the idea of pleasuring Taehyung, knowing that he could give back what Taehyung has given to him.

“Please,” Jungkook whispers, and Taehyung can’t possibly say no.

“Hands only.” Taehyung gives Jungkook a pointed look as he settles at the head of the bed with his back against the wall and a pillow behind him to keep his tail comfortable.

Jungkook is riding an adrenaline-fueled, orgasmic high when he grabs Taehyung’s shoulders to steady himself as he swings a shaky leg over to straddle his thighs.

“I want to be able to kiss you easier,” Taehyung admits when he explains why he prefers that Jungkook straddle him rather than kneel beside him. It feels like a perfect position for Jungkook, who would spend the rest of his life staring into Taehyung’s eyes if he could.

Taehyung smacks Jungkook’s ass playfully to get him to lift up briefly so Taehyung can shimmy his jeans down until he can pull his cock out. Jungkook keeps his hands on Taehyung’s broad shoulders while Taehyung adjusts himself. It’s nerve-wracking, even though Jungkook insisted that this happen. Sweet, considerate Taehyung was willing to ignore his own arousal; Jungkook wouldn’t let it go.

So why is he so nervous now?

“It isn’t prickly,” Taehyung whispers with mischief sparkling in his eyes, likely noticing Jungkook’s sudden anxiety.

Jungkook smiles shyly when he asks, “No cheese grater?”

“No cheese grater.”

Taehyung’s hand is warm against Jungkook’s when he takes his hand from his shoulder and slowly brings it down to wrap it around his cock. They both sigh at the touch, the back of Taehyung’s head hitting the wall with a quiet thud.

Looking between them, Jungkook confirms Taehyung’s joke: no prickly dick. It looks just like Jungkook would expect, the same general look as his own, though much bigger — not that Jungkook ever fantasized about Taehyung’s dick. He most certainly did not!

“Spit first,” Taehyung instructs and hums in satisfaction when Jungkook spits in his hand before he drags his fist over his cock.

Once Jungkook has picked up a smooth rhythm, Taehyung squeezes the nape of his neck to pull him forward in a rough kiss. Jungkook’s head spins as Taehyung growls into the kiss, his teeth scraping and biting Jungkook’s lips, and his tongue laving over them like a soothing apology. Taehyung doesn’t whimper or whine like Jungkook had; instead, he growls and moans with a low purr that Jungkook feels rumble in his own chest.

“Go faster,” Taehyung purrs against Jungkook’s swollen lips as he bucks upward with a squeeze of Jungkook’s hips to keep him from toppling over.

Eager to please, Jungkook increases his movements, adding his other hand to roll over the wet tip of Taehyung’s cock. It’s a move that Jungkook enjoys on himself sometimes, so he’s pleased when Taehyung groans and tilts his head back. Jungkook leans forward to scatter kisses along Taehyung’s neck, too afraid to suck deep bruises there but enjoying the feel of the smooth skin beneath his lips.

“Does it feel good?” Jungkook asks shyly, his breath catching in his throat when Taehyung’s dark gaze falls on him again.

“Mm, yeah, you’re doing a good job, bun,” Taehyung caresses the side of Jungkook’s face, holding his cheek in a gesture too soft for what they’re doing. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen and he almost stops moving.

“Oh! What do I do?”

Taehyung quickly grabs Jungkook’s hand and continues jerking himself off using Jungkook's hand until he’s confident Jungkook won’t stop.

“Cover it.”

Jungkook watches for a sign and thinks he finds one when Taehyung squirms briefly before his body locks up with a low moan that he releases as he leans forward to nuzzle the crook of Jungkook’s neck. Maybe it’s cliche, but Jungkook thinks Taehyung is beautiful like this, swept up in raw pleasure.

Then again, Jungkook thinks Taehyung is always beautiful.

It’s a messy affair, but Jungkook knew it would be, so he has a small towel on hand. He stays still until Taehyung calms down, only cleaning him up once Taehyung is no longer too sensitive. They’re both loopy and exhausted from their orgasms but also from the unique energy it takes to experience intimacy with someone new for the first time — especially for Jungkook.

“So much for a PG date,” Taehyung grins while he wiggles into the biggest sweatpants Jungkook could find in his closet. They’re still too tight on Taehyung and end right at his ankles, but they’re more comfortable than jeans.

“Our date was technically over, so I don’t think this counts.”

Jungkook yawns and pats the bed for Taehyung to climb under the blankets. The bed isn’t big enough for both of them to lie side by side, so Jungkook lies on Taehyung’s chest. It’s more comfortable than a mattress, if Jungkook wants to be corny.

“I can ask hyung if you can sleep over,” Jungkook offers quietly.

“I’m pretty sure he’ll never want me back in your dorm ever again,” Taehyung says in a grave tone, and Jungkook can tell he’s serious. “I’m actually afraid to leave this room right now.”

“Oh my gosh, Tae.”

“Bun… you are loud. You are so loud.”

With a whine, Jungkook tucks his face against Taehyung’s chest to hide his embarrassment. It doesn’t matter; they turned the lights off, so the room is too dark to notice Jungkook’s pink cheeks. Even then, Taehyung doesn’t need to see Jungkook’s face to know he’s being shy.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s fucking hot.”

Taehyung gently scratches the dark fur of Jungkook’s ears, and Jungkook can hear the smile in his voice. Too tired to scold Taehyung for causing him even more embarrassment, Jungkook closes his eyes and focuses on the steady beat of Taehyung’s heart and basks in the warmth that comes with falling asleep in Taehyung’s arms for the second night in a row.

Even if Yoongi will be pissed when he realizes Taehyung never left.

Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd &daddytaehyungie).

#taehyung x jungkook #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #venor #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #taekook fanfic

[littlenastieswewhispered]

on why spike absolutely and truly loved buffy in season five:

people often attempt to point to one concise moment that proves spike did love buffy pre-soul, and a lot are compelling. his commitment to keeping dawn safe after buffy is dead is pretty clear. his willingness to let glory kill him because he couldn’t live seeing buffy in the pain that losing dawn would cause her is too.

“is there something i can do?,” the quiet space he makes for her, “every night i save you,” the way he shows himself only to her, “you glow,” the numerous times he plainly and honestly tells her he loves her… the journey to his soul. all of these do say love. they’re lovely moments.

for me, one thing stands above them all, the moment i can point to and say, definitively, spike is in love with buffy. it isn’t lovely. it’s terrible. it’s heartbreaking. it’s when spike’s heart broke.

the gift 5.22

first of all, this is one of the most perfect marriages of page and performance in the series. the words alone are so evocative, you can feel exactly how he does with just that brief phrase. but we’re blessed with it being a script, so we get to see it acted out, and it’s done perfectly.

spike walks up after the others, he’s been injured a lot over the last few days, including being stabbed and brutally thrown off the tower in the final fight. he’s limping, holding himself, hiding from the sun that’s already risen, but seeing her body knocks him down more than all of that.

collapsing in wretched sobs. there’s no delicacy and no modesty. he doesn’t care if anyone sees it or what they think. only he and buffy’s dead body exist right now anyway. it’s the worst thing he’s ever seen, and he covers his face from it.

collapsing in wretched sobs at his failure. he knew what would happen if he didn’t save dawn, but nothing could prepare him for seeing buffy. he feels personally and entirely responsible.

collapsing in wretched sobs at his failure, at the death of his love. his love. buffy. his love has died.

it’s true that in the past james marsters played spike more sympathetic than he was written. he admits it. he says he always played him like he had a soul. he was always a little more enamored with dru, and a little less annoyed with her. he cheated, because the spike role was temporary and so he didn’t have job security. he wanted spike to be adored by the fans, to be complex and layered, and to stay around.

but that was season two. season five spike is a series regular. his acting has already influenced the writing and direction they’d taken the character in, for two full seasons. he isn’t going anywhere. this isn’t james marsters being sneaky and pretending spike is in love with buffy. this is him playing spike as he’s written, in love.

we previously saw spike sad that drusilla left him. he was drunk, and he was pathetic because he knew nothing outside of her. he cried and he hurled himself back and forth between rage and melancholy. he was desperate to have her back and resigned himself to make that happen. he was miserable, but he didn’t mourn.

but now, because buffy is gone, spike is heartbroken.

there is no intellectually honest way you can read this scene, these facial expressions, these sobs, as someone who only had a sick infatuation and is upset he won’t have a chance at having sex with the girl he’s obsessed with now because she went and died. this is a man feeling very real grief, because his love is dead, and because he failed at preventing it.

the vampire, the soulless monster, the slayer of slayers, is heartbroken.

“it seems to me, that if we love, we grieve. that’s the deal. that’s the pact. grief and love are forever intertwined. grief is the terrible reminder of the depths of our love and, like love, grief is non-negotiable.” - nick cave

#spuffy #spike x buffy #buffy x spike #you’re the one buffy #btvs #btvs script #btvs text post

[the-fiction-witch]

Little Alice P2

Media The Maze Runner Series

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Sweet + Sad

As I sat inside the helicopter, my heart was pounding with nervousness. I held Alice tightly to my chest, gently bouncing her to try and ease her cries. Newt had his arms wrapped around both of us, his presence bringing a sense of comfort amidst the chaos. The view from the window slowly began to rise, revealing a breathtaking view of the towering walls that had enclosed us for so long. As we watched in awe, the walls began to shrink in size, reducing to mere specs in the distance. The once-familiar sight of the Glade and Maze that had been our entire world for so long, vanished from view leaving us with nothing but an overwhelming sense of uncertainty. 

As soon as we arrived, we were kindly offered a chance to freshen up after the long journey. This Ratman named Janson, provided us with new clothes that were a perfect fit for us, which felt like heaven to finally have something fresh to wear. We were able to take a warm shower that was so invigorating, and we were able to comb through our hair and properly groom Alice's plush bunny. The feeling of cleanliness was such a relief after so long.

Afterwards, we were offered a plate of delicious food that we didn't have to prepare ourselves. The meal was satisfying, and we could taste every flavour. It was such a treat not having to cook and clean ourselves. 

Finally, we were given a proper bed to sleep in, which was so comfortable and cosy. We were thankful to have a good night's sleep without any disturbance. It was such a relief to be welcomed and treated so kindly after the long and tiring journey we had been through even if part of me was still... curious about whoever these people are. Me and Newt both had showers and I gave Alice a little bath in the sink, tying up her clean soft Y/H/Chair like I had my own. I got Alice settled in her own little bunk and Newt and I shared a bunk under her. His arms around my waist and my own on his chest both of us on the edge of the bed as if we still had Alice between us. Until I shifted forward and gave him a little kiss which he happily kissed back. 

"You look really beautiful Y/n," he whispered to not wake anyone else,

"I do?"

"Yeah, I mean... you always look pretty but, seeing you now all clean, all warm, hair soft and brushed out, a little smile across your lips, I don't think I've ever seen you like this."

"I don't think you have..."

"I think you look Beautiful," 

"Thank you Newt," I smiled, "I admit it's nice to cuddle up to you now you're all clean," I giggled, "You're very handsome,"

"Handsome? Oooh, I could get used to being Handsome," He smirked, 

"I bet you can," I cooed as I gave him another kiss, 

"Y/n?"

"Yes, Newt?"

"... I know it... early days and all. But we do seem to be safe." he said, "If it's true. And we are safe. If this is the start of the life we wanted... Do you think you'd be open to, Giving Alice a sibling?"

"What?" I blushed,

"This could be it. They could keep us here a while, take us to this... safe place they said about, we could have a home, get married, do all the things we dreamt of."

"We already have Alice,"

"I know but... We didn't to... Do the fun part," He smirked,

"True," I giggled, "It would be nice to... do the fun part, to watch my tummy grow, feel the baby kick, we missed all that with Alice."

"We did, So? if it turns out we are safe? Did you want another baby?"

"I think so," I nodded nuzzling into his chest, "Give Alice a little brother."

"A little brother?" he blushed, 

"Umm a little brother," I smiled, "With fluffy blonde hair," I smiled petting Newt's blonde hair,

"... And sweet Y/e/c eyes," he cooed picking my chin up to look him in the eye, "But I don't really mind, so long as they're all ours they'll be the most beautiful baby in the world," He smiled giving my lips a little kiss,

"Ohhh Newt, I love you," I cooed nuzzling into his chest,

"Umm, I love you too Y/n," He cooed, 

"We need to go now!" Thomas demanded, without another word, everyone packed up as many clothes, supplies and such as we could carry, I used a blanket to wrap up Alice so I could have her attached to me and have better use of my arms. Newt grabbed my hand and we followed through this facility hearing the alarm sound the moment we started our escape, we followed thomas and Aris through the corridors and labs until we reached a dead end. Thomas grabbed and chair and tried to break the window but to no avail. Men began trying to force open the door making Alice cry which didn't help matters. I tried to soothe her as Newt grabbed another chair, he and thomas threw them at the glass with all their might and smashed it open giving us a path to the door. He jumped out with thomas and began helping everyone though, I stayed back making sure everyone got out before me before finally climbing over.

"Are you okay?" I asked him, 

"Fine Love," he said, "You okay little one?" he asked kissing Alice,

"she's okay," I nodded,

"Are you okay?" He asked,

"I'm Fine," I nodded squeezing his hand and we bolted through the corridors but as soon as we got out the doors they began to close and Alice began crying hysterically, I turned in panic to the closing doors. "Bunny!" Alice screamed,

"Her Bunny!" I told him as I spotted it on the floor she must have dropped it as we ran, 

"Oh no-" Newt gulped, 

"Hold her." I quickly handed Alice over to him,

"Y/n-" He tried to stop me 

With my heart racing, I ran through the door, my eyes fixed on the rabbit plush. I didn't want to let it out of my sight, not for even a second. I grabbed it tightly with my fingers and turned around on my heels, running as fast as I could. The door was narrow, so I had to turn sideways to fit through it. I managed to slip through just before the door snapped shut behind me.

I gasped for air, my hand still clutching the plush rabbit as I handed it back to her. Newt was beside me, and he kissed the top of my head, his warm breath washing over my hair. 

"Thank you, mummy," She giggled,

"You're welcome little one," I told her,

We needed to get out of there quickly, so we made our way out into the sand and wind, keeping Alice close to us. We didn't want any of the sand to hit her delicate face.

As I stood in the abandoned mall, I cradled Alice on my hip as she got some sleep, trying to keep her warm. Newt was rummaging through piles of clothing, searching for warm clothes for us to wear in the cold weather outside. He then moved on to the empty shelves and containers, looking for supplies that would help us survive in this abandoned place. As he searched, I couldn't help but wonder how we ended up in this situation again, 

"You think this is a good idea? Does thomas even know where we're going?" I asked,

"No... but we don't have much of a choice love," he sighed, "We can't risk Alice or either of us with wicked not after what they've done to us already."

"I know but... will we be okay running around the desert with Alice?"

"We made it in the glade didn't we?"

"The glade was different newt..."

"I promise I will keep both of you safe" he reassured kissing my cheek and taking Alice, "You go get changed I'll look after this little one,"

"Okay," I nodded, "be a good girl for Daddy," I told her kissing her little redhead,

I sat by the fire we had built trying to get my head on straight as Newt came and sat beside me, 

"Hey,"

"...Hey,"

"she sleeping?" I asked,

"Yeah out like a light." He nodded, 

"...We can't keep this up Newt," I told him,

"I know..." he sighed, "She needs something stable, somewhere to sleep, knowing when she's gonna eat next... It's not safe for her out here."

"Sometimes I wonder if we would have been safer in the facility?"

"Maybe... I'm sorry Y/n-"

"No. I left too." I told him squeezing his hand, "We both wanted to make sure she was safe. We didn't know. I'm sure we'll find somewhere soon," 

"I hope so," he nodded squeezing my hand back, "so long as you girls are safe I don't care," he said pulling me into a cuddle,

"What about you?"

"I don't care about me..."

"I do. Alice does. we both love you. we're not safe without you with us newt."

"Okay..." he nodded, "It all seems a bit impossible...

"What does?"

"The life we dreamt about? our little place, getting married, giving Alice a brother. I don't think that life even exists in this world."

"I think it can... just... in a new way, Our own way." 

"Yeah... in our own way..." He nodded, "...Y/n?"

"Yes, Newt?"

"Will you marry me?" He asked,

"What?" I gasped looking up at him, 

"We have to do it our way, so? will you marry me?"

"I'd love too," I smiled, 

"You mean it?"

"Of course, I'd love to marry you newt."

"awww you- you're really my wife?"

"Mhm,"

"My wife... My beautiful wife Y/n,"

"My sweet husband Newt." I smiled giving him a little kiss, 

"Now we just need a little home,"

"I'm sure we will find somewhere soon." 

I smiled watching Alice as she sat on Newt's lap filled with excitement as she watched the window and the world rush by holding her bunny plush, to let it see too. 

"Mummy! Mummy!" she smiled, "Zoom..."

"Yes little one Zoom Zoom," I chuckled, 

"Zoom Zoom," Newt smiled, 

"Daddy bunny likes the zoom," She giggled,

"Yeah he does doesn't he." he chuckled,

"It's good Bunny likes it," I laughed laying on Newt's shoulder a little as we watched her at the window so excitedly, 

When Wicked attacked my blood ran cold as I saw the bergs coming in overhead, Newt grabbed Alice and handed her to me, he gave her a sweet soft kiss on her little Y/H/Chead and he kissed me too. 

"I love you," He told her, "I love you." he told me, "Take her and run." He demanded,

"We Can't leave without you," I told him,

"You have to!" He told us as the berg touched down, "Take her go!" He demanded, 

I didn't want to argue with him and I turned and ran towards the hills my eyes filled with tears to know I was abandoning him, 

"Noooo Daddy!" She cried reaching out over my shoulder, "We can't go without daddy! Mummy no!" she begged,

"I know little one, I know. I'm sorry." I told her trying to soothe her but a Guard grabbed me out of nowhere, I screamed and began begging, "Noooo no no PLEASE! let us go! please let us go!" I begged but he pulled Alice from my arms, "NOoooooooo ALICE!" I screamed running after her trying to do what I could to fight her out of his arms, 

"Mummy!" She cried in desperation, 

"ALICE!" Newt saw they had her and he kicked a guard holding him and bolted over but they already had her on the berg with Sonya, Minho and others. My tears flooded down my face as Newt ran for the berg but they kicked him away as it closed the door sealing it before it took off with Alice inside. 

I sat motionless surrounded by the smoking remains of the right arms camp clutching Alice's plush bunny in my arms after she dropped it in all the commotion the top of its little ear singed by the fires. Thomas was talking to Vince but I didn't care to listen. Newt sat beside me and wrapped his arms around me letting both our tears flood as we embraced each other. 

"They took her..."

"I know... they are not keeping her I swear it. We'll get her back. I promise."

I stood my body shivering as I watched Newt pack some things he would need, thomas, fry and he would be leaving tonight after lights out, sneaking away after the months of waiting, planning and prepping had all fallen through after Alice and Minho weren't on the train car they took. I didn't want him to go, not when he was already getting sick. I held Alice's bunny close still unable to let it go after all this time.  

"I promise... No matter what it takes. No matter what happens. Alice will come home." He told me as he threw his bag over his shoulder,

"What about you?"

"I don't care what happens to me. I will bring Alice home. I swear it. She will come home... even if I don't." 

"But she needs you, I need you." I told him, "He'll need you too." I remind him taking his hand and squeezing it as I rested it on my stomach, my small forming bump of our baby slowly growing after all the months of planning, 

"I will do whatever I can to make sure Alice comes home, I want to be with you, with her, with him. More than I want anything in this world. but if it's her or me-"

"Don't make me choose Newt... Please..."

"I want you, her... and him. To be safe. Away from Wicked where you can have the life we always dreamt,"

"But... in the dream, you are part of that life Newt."

"I know... but I want you all safe more." He said,

"...Newt... Bring our little girl home."

"I will. I promise you." he said giving my lips a soft kiss, "I love you, Y/n."

"I love you too Newt."

"Take care of our little baby for me," he cooed kissing my stomach, 

"I will. I promise." I nodded, "...and what do I do if you don't come back?"

"Then love him. And love Alice for me. As Much as you know I'd love you all." He said giving me one more kiss before he headed out of camp to meet the boys, 

I sat by the water watching the waves, I was beyond scared as I knew the ship was leaving for the safe haven in the morning. But Newt and the others weren't back yet. I couldn't bear the thought of leaving without them, but... I don't know if I could stay, or even if I was safe to. I couldn't imagine life without him, and it only grew worse as my stomach grew I knew it wouldn't be long before I had our baby. 

"Mummy!" A voice cried,

I perked up my eyes flooding with tears as I got to my feet and turned to see Alice in Wicked clothes, she ran over excitedly with her arms open, I bolted over and picked her up in my arms spinning her around in my arms as I gave her kisses and cuddles. 

"Ohh Sweetheart! My darling Alice." I cooed, 

"I missed you, mummy!"

"I missed you so much, Alice!" 

"Daddy! look it's, Mommy!"

"I promised you we were going to see Mummy didn't I," Newt smiled as he came over and pulled us both into a cuddle, "Hi Y/n, How is my sweet wife?"

"I missed my husband very much!" I smiled giving him a sweet kiss as I set Alice down so Newt and I could hug tightly,

"I missed you too," he cooed, "How is little one?" he asked resting his hand on my stomach,

"He's happy, missed his daddy too." I smiled, 

"Bunny!" Alice cooed as she saw I still had her bunny, 

I smiled and knelt down and gave her back her bunny, "Of course. I kept him safe for you," I told her, 

"Thank you, mummy," she giggled,

"You're welcome," I smiled, "Alice, would you like to meet your baby brother?" I asked her,

"Baby brother!" she giggled, 

I took her hand and settled it on my stomach so she could feel her brother kick,

"Hi, baby brother..." she giggled, "When can I proper meet him?"

"Soon He'll be born in a few months," I cooed, 

"He'll be here soon." Newt smiled, I took Newt's hand and let him feel my bump too he smiled widely and kissed my bump then my lips. "I love you, Y/n,"

"I love you too newt." I smiled,

"I love mummy and daddy too," Alice smiled,

"We love you too Alice," He smiled hugging her and I close, "And I know we'll love little boy too,"

"I know we will," I smiled, 

#tbs smut #tbs imagine #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #thomasbrodiesangster #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #newt #newt imagine #newt imagines #tmr newt smut #tmr newt imagine #tdc newt smut #newt smut #newt smut au #tmr newt imagines

[bougiebutchbitch]

Heyyy you seem like you really know your batjokes. You got any fics to recommend? Oneshots, longfics, incomplete or not, I'm just looking to feed this craving. I've already read the big ones, REMS, Made for the Journey, Half Way Across, Love and Abuse, etc. I need MOAR

DAMN this is a good question... and one I am only semi-qualified to answer. I've trawled through a fair bit of the Batjokes AO3, but that still amounts to, uh, not even half of it. Any further reccs are welcome! For now though, some favourites, old and new, are under the cut~

Please check each individual fic for rating & warnings.

I'm currently obsessed with The #48 Verse series, by DesdemonaKaylose! Start here...

BRED TO SUFFER (desdemonakaylose)

AU from Batman comics #48: amnesiac Bruce Wayne is saved from having to choose between his newfound peace and the legacy of Batman. And as long as there is no Batman, there can't be a Joker.

John Doe, of the uncannily wide smile and the acid green eyes, deals with a creeping sense of dread that something is poised to go very, very wrong.

After the events of Endgame, amnesiacs Bruce Wayne and John Doe find themselves drawn together and repelled like magnets. Love - and danger - ensues, as their pasts crawl slowly back through cracks in the mirror.

And I can't not mention the other fic I'm obsessed with: AS WE GO ALONG (battybrownboo) - EXPLICIT

Batman and the Joker are perched along the edges of a precarious and complicated affair when an old enemy returns to Gotham. The adversary's desires for revenge against Bruce Wayne have only strengthened with time. This forces the two enemies with benefits on a wild goose chase, and to confront their relationship head on, whether they’re ready or not.

Strong Deadly Duo vibes, but with all the hardcore fucking that DC keep forgetting to add in! Batman and Joker are forced to team up, while navigating a delightfully messy ongoing relationship. As ever, I'm on tenterhooks for the next chapter!

GLASS, CONTENT, PIECES (ashtosilver) - EXPLICIT

"Mr. Wayne, it's this government's decision that regardless of the progress, you will become this man's handler. How he gets to the point of accepting that, is up to you."

Bruce breaks the Joker. But not for himself. Contains rape.

WHAT A WONDERFUL ANIMOSITY (kyrilu)

Joker is preparing to celebrate his and Batman’s upcoming Nemesis Anniversary when he makes the devastating discovery that Batman is married to his roommate Bruce Wayne.

Legobatjokes cuteness!

JUST IN CASE OF SURPRISES (princegrantaire)

What do you get for the man who has everything anyway? A skinny murderous clown, apparently.

Clark gets Bruce a very unconventional birthday present.

After you've worked your way through those, please go read the entire archives of Dracze, Distortopia, Fractualized and Fricketyfrac, aka DDFF, aka the deities of batjokes fic. A couple of faves of theirs that I haven't yet reccommended publicly are:

GOODBYE UNTIL TOMORROW (dracze) - EXPLICIT

Dick and Barbara reminded me what’s important,” Bruce says, quietly. “And there's one more person I want to see.”

So sweet it gave me cavities <3

FRIEND, PLEASE (distortopia)

Joker will not let a disease, of all things, do him in. He was always meant to die at the hands of the Bat. He hadn’t tortured him enough before; he had been holding back. But now he would present Bruce with an impossible, obvious choice: kill Joker before he killed the world.

Joker gets cancer. It goes badly.

(AND I'M DROPPING A SHOUT FOR FALLS THE SHADOW TOO BECAUSE I WANT MORE OF IT PRETTY PLEASE, IT'S SO GOOD)

ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT (fractualized)

The Justice League are regrouping after an attack when an unexpected visitor arrives at Batman's hideout.

The Justice League meet John Doe! <3

GOOD FOR NOTHING (fricketyfrac) - EXPLICIT

Batman investigates why Bane made an appearance at Amusement Mile, and his interrogation of Joker takes a dark turn.

Batman finds the nasty aftermath of a confrontation between Joker and Bane. Warnings for rape and some very, very dubious consent.

#batjokes #fic reccs #batman #joker #the joker #batman x joker #joker x batman #bruce wayne #john doe #telltale batman #lego batman #batknives

[90skiyoomi]

reckless pt. 3 - the wedding

fiancé!sakusa or soon to be husband!sakusa x f!reader

after a year, sakusa and you decided to hold your wedding (since it's off season and there isn't any overseas matches). what happens at the wedding and what kind of drama would happen?

a/n: i'm currently sick so there wouldn't be any proofreading. also i've never been to a wedding before so i have no idea how it actually works so i had to google a lot of things but i hope it still makes sense! anyways, this would be the last part for the reckless series. i never thought i would write more than 1 chapter but here we are, 3 chapters later and we're done!

<previous> navigation

it's finally the day. you and sakusa have been planning this wedding for so long.

it was off-season period and sakusa didn't have as many matches. you finally found a day where you can hold the wedding.

it took a few wedding drafts and many cake tasting before getting to this point. it was finally the day.

you were in the dressing room while your make up artist puts on your make up and the hairdresser does your hair.

you looked at the mirror and took a glance at the beautiful dress that was hanging that sakusa picked and tailored for you. you can't help but to smile.

after that day that you saw your ex boyfriend and bestfriend, your ex boyfriend tried to call and text you with an unknown number, trying to get your attention and begging for forgiveness. sakusa thought it was funny to send him a photo of the both of you wearing your rings and blocked him after.

not gonna lie, you're feeling pretty nervous. you started overthinking about what might happen or what if sakusa leaves you at the alter. you decided to shrug it off because it's sakusa that we're talking about.

your relationship has been nothing but a dream. he was the most patient person you've ever met. he loves you with all his being and you love him too. you just thought how lucky it was for you to land a guy like this.

fast forward to 15 minutes before the wedding, komori came in to check on you and ask about how you're feeling (sakusa TOTALLY didn't ask him to do it). you guys chatted for abit before he left.

you started preparing to walk to the venue as the ceremony is about to start.

you could see sakusa standing at the podium at the end of the aisle, looking at you in awe as the wedding music started playing out of the speaker. you walked slowly towards him, smiling and thinking that it's finally happening.

when you're up at the podium, the wedding officiant started to ask the both of you to say your vows.

"y/n, it has been a long journey with you so far. i feel like years with you feels like minutes. i remember the first time we met when we were kids and how it was love at first sight. no one has ever made me feel so comfortable, sorry komori, you're second in this. but i want to spend the rest of our lives with you and i hope there is an afterlife so i can spend those times with you too. i love you so much and i'm so happy that i'm able to call my bestfriend my wife."

"sakusa, i honestly don't know how to top your vows because that was so sweet and i wish there is an afterlife too so even death can't do us part. you have been my bestfriend for all my life, minus those years where you moved away, what a dick move. but you have always been the one for me ever since we met in university again. being together with you has been a dream and you are the best person i've ever met and i can't wait to be your wife for the rest of my living life and anything after. i love you so much sakusa"

there were tears of joy from the guests and the both of you.

"now that the bride and groom has exchanged their vows, if there's anyone that isn't in favor of this marriage, speak up now or forever hold your silence."

when the wedding officiant was about to ask you both to exchange your rings, someone in the guest seating area stood up.

"i object!"

you turned around to look at who said that and you see your ex boyfriend.

who the hell invited him and who let him in?

you were at the brink of tears when sakusa called his security.

"escort that man out. he wasn't invited and he shouldn't even be here"

you could see that he was fuming.

"i'm so sorry to everyone for the disturbance. this was really unexpected as we're supposed to have a high level security in the venue. if there's no one else that objects this wedding, is it okay if we proceed accordingly?" he said, turning to look at the wedding officiant.

"it seems like that was just a minor inconvenience so yes, we may proceed. do you, y/n l/n, take sakusa kiyoomi as your lawfully wedded husband?"

you nodded and said yes.

"and do you, sakusa kiyoomi, take y/n l/n, as your lawfully wedded wife?"

"i do"

"i now pronounce you, husband and wife! you may now kiss your bride"

later at the reception, you found out that your ex has bribed one of your acquaintance that you invited and ask her to bring him as a plus one.

needless to say, you kicked that acquaintance out of the wedding after party and cut all contacts with her after that day.

it has been 4 years since the wedding. as you thought about that day, it felt so nerve wrecking. but at the end of the day, it was all worth it.

as you continue to daydream and reminisce, you slowly drifted to sleep in the arms of your now-husband, sakusa kiyoomi, the most perfect man alive.

#haikyuu hcs #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu au #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu sfw #haikyuu hurt/comfort #sakusa comfort #sakusa drabble #sakusa fic #sakusa fluff #sakusa headcanons #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x you

[backtothefanfiction]

The Angel In The Garden of Evil | Chapter 1 : The Call of a Night Bird

Summary: Peter Parker's wife left him 3 years ago. Suddenly she's back and she's brought some news that is about to change everything, unfortunately that news comes with its own set of complications and he's out for blood.

Warning: 18+ Only, mature themes, eventual smut, weapons, angst, lots of emotional tension

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Hello, welcome, I am so excited to be sharing this story. It has consumed me for the last week resulting in me so far having written a total of almost 20,000! words, including the Prologue which you can find here. As mentioned in the others note for the prologue and in subsequent posts lately, I have come to adore Mob!Au Peter Parker stories after finding the wonderful @liz-allyn's Sugar + Vice series and even more recently @p3mybeloved one shots based on the lyrics of Florence and the Machine's Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up). If you haven't read either and you enjoy this fic and want more like it I would highly recommend checking them out. Anyway this is the first part of a 2 chapter drop, but after that you can expect weekly chapter releases every Friday. Now, without further ado, I hope you enjoy, this is The Angel In The Garden of Evil.

ONE

Peter Parker was nonchalant about journeys home, it was simply routine at this point in his life. Although he had other properties in the city and even around the world, this was his only true safe space. A large mansion on the outskirts of the city. 7 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms and an open living and kitchen space that covered the whole of the back half of the downstairs of the house. With a swimming pool, hot tub and basketball court all in the backyard and a view of the Hudson to die for, anyone would mistake it for paradise on earth.

Once upon a time, he’d get excited about coming home, the smell of dinner being cooked wafting around the house, music permeating the whole of the downstairs, windows lit, guiding his way up the large driveway as his driver pulled in through the gates. But that was then. That was before.

Sure coming home was still his safe place. The place he could mostly let his guard down when work wasn’t being brought home, but it was quieter now. It was darker now. He had to switch the lights on himself. Instead of sitting down at the dinner table, a meal prepared and laid out for him, he now fixed himself a drink from the bar cart, sat at that same dining room table and drank alone. Day in, day out, that same routine ever since she left. His Angel.

Everything had been harder since she left. Work was harder. Getting up and living was harder. Suddenly he had to factor in extra costs she had been taking care of; weekly shopping, the cleaner, the gardener. Heck he had even paid out for a storage facility to hold all her things. He had the whole house redecorated because everything reminded him of her. She was his everything, they were going to rule the whole city together. But now it’s just him. 

He reached forward for the small drinks tray in the car, pouring himself a finger of whiskey from the decanter. He unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt and ruffled up his hair as he slumped back into his seat in the back of the car, his head leaning back against the headrest.

“Everything okay back there boss?” Miguel asked from the driver's seat.

“Hmm, yeah.” Peter sighed as he forced himself to make eye contact with his driver through the rear view mirror.

“It’s her again isn’t it.”

Peter said nothing.

“You know boss, I knew she’d be nothing but trouble when-“ Miguel began to berate as he pulled up to the main gate, waiting for it to slide open with their arrival, but Peter’s demeanour suddenly changed, a frown pulling at his brow as he suddenly looked past the reflection of his driver and out the front window of the car. There were lights on in the house.

Peter’s hand slowly began to run along the carpeted roof of the car, his fingers pushing on a particular spot that revealed a compartment that concealed an emergency gun. His fingers tentatively closed around the handle as he brought it down, his senses continuing to assess the situation as Miguel drove slowly up to the house, careful to make as little noise on the gravel pathway as possible.

As they grew closer, Peter’s tension only grew as they realised the front door had been left open. The car had barely stopped when both men tentatively got out of the car, their doors left open in front of them as they each raised their pieces, scouting for danger. Peter motioned for Miguel to watch his back as he slowly edged his way around the car, the placements of his feet careful and quiet. As he got closer to the door he could hear music echoing down the hallway. 

His feet stepped gingerly through the foyer as he followed the sound. 

“Well, then suddenly there was no one Left standing in the hall, yeah, yeah In a flood of tears That no one really ever heard fall at all”

All the way down the hall nothing seemed a miss. Everything was still tidy. No one had broken in to ransack the place and he was definitely sure if they had they wouldn’t be blasting Stevie Nicks in the kitchen whilst they did it. He held a hand up towards Miguel who had slowly been following behind him. He could hear the sound of oil sizzling in a pan and then-

“Well I went searching for an answer, up the stairs and down the hall, and not to find an answer, just to hear the call of a night bird…”

He’d know that voice anywhere. Her voice. Angel. 

It had been so long, almost like a charm that disarmed him, he began to lower his weapon, his stance relaxing. He quietly motioned his hand for Miguel to leave and they both shared a silent nod of understanding. Peter took in a deep breath as he confidently strolled through the doorway into the kitchen. 

She had her back to him as she danced across the tiled floor, lost in the music as she cooked. It was just like before- but it wasn’t. She had left. He had erased her entire existence from his life. 

He put the safety back on his gun and dropped it forcefully on top of the large kitchen island. He expected the sudden noise, the announcement of his presence, to at least shake her, startle her in some way, but she didn’t so much as flinch.

“Honey, I’m home.” He further announced himself.

She finally turned to face him. A part of him couldn’t help but melt when she turned, wooden spoon held aloft, mid-air,  as she turned and smiled at him. 

“I’m just adding a few more bits and it’ll be ready.” She beamed, her voice calling to him over the music and the sizzle of the vegetables in the pan like nothing was wrong. Like she hadn’t been gone for three years.

He rolled his eyes as she turned her back to him again, continuing to sing the last chorus of the song as she cooked. He raised his hands, confused, exasperated, unsure of what to do with himself. He ultimately found his feet already carrying himself to the bar cart, his usual routine kicking in. Was it his usual routine though or the sudden need for a strong drink to help get him through this inevitable conversation.

“I see you’ve redecorated.” she chirped.

He didn’t respond, leaving a long pause as he poured his drink.

“Darling, how did you get in?” He instead said, changing the subject as he took his usual seat at the table.

“The front door.” She innocently responds. “By the way,” she adds, turning to face him with both frying pan and wooden spoon in hand, as she continues to stir, “my birthday Peter really? You couldn’t come up with a more original security code?”

“In my defence Princess, I wasn’t expecting you to come home.” he said, his lips pulling tight.

She pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows in defeat and giving a small nod as she turned back to the stove.

He watched her from his spot at the head of the table as he sipped on his drink, his fingers drumming on the seat of his chair between his legs as he spread out, trying to look confident in his own home. He couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over her form as she turned off the knobs to the hob and the oven.

He felt a small sense of pride when she went to the cupboard to find the plates, only to realise he’d also replaced and moved those too.

“You moved the plates.” She sighs, her fingers drumming on the wooden cabinet as she took in a deep breath. When he didn’t immediately respond she turned her head to stick him with her piercing gaze. 

“They’re this side on the left.” He finally said, pointing towards where the cabinet would be on the other side of the island to him.

“Thank you.” She curtly replied as she moved across the kitchen to retrieve them.

She serves up the dinner, switching off the extractor fan, suddenly plunging them both into silence as she carries the two plates of food over to the table. 

Their eye contact is tense as she places the plate of food in front of him, so much needing to be said. Things that should have been said before. Things they’d both wanted to say since.

They continued to dance around each other in silence, cutlery scraping against plates as they ate. Peter didn’t want to admit it, but he’d really missed her cooking. He’d missed her altogether- but he knew he couldn’t get too attached. He didn’t even know why she was here in the first place, let alone how long it was for.

He let his eyes gaze along the long table towards where she sat up the other end and only then was it that he noticed the large envelope on the table. He stared at it, frozen, his hands resting his cutlery either side of his plate, his food now forgotten.

“Princess, whatever you do, don’t tell me those are divor-“

“Peter, my father's dead.” She blurted out. Her hands were now in her lap as she looked absentmindedly at a spot on the table.

“What?” Peter said tentatively in shock as he waited for her to look at him.

She looked around the room for a moment before she said it again, still not able to lock eyes with him. “My fathers dead.” He watched as she suddenly steeled herself. She pushed her chair back from the table, pushing herself to a stand with the arms of the chair. Her heels clacked across the floor as her fingers ran along the wood until they found the envelope that lay in the middle of the table between them. Peter leaned back in his seat to look up at her as she moved closer, her hip leaning against the table top as she handed the envelope to him.

Peter tentatively opened the envelope, his fingers reaching for the paper inside. 

“It’s his will.” She said as his fingers pulled the paper from its sheath and began to scan the text on the paper. She watched as he began to flip through the pages until he was on the last one as he froze. “He left you everything.” She said out loud, confirming what he was reading.

He looked up at her in shock. “But, I don’t understand.” He said as he began to reread the final page to be sure. “He hated me.” He said as he looked up at her again. “That’s why-” Peter couldn’t say it. That’s why she had left. 

Her Father had made her leave. He was his rival, she had run off and married the enemy and he had made her leave. Forced her onto a plane and took her who knows where. Well Peter knew where. Northern Italy. He had had Eddie go looking for her the moment he’d gotten home and found her gone. Their room ransacked, suitcases missing.

“Why would he leave me everything?”

“Because he couldn’t outright leave it to me.” She said.

She wasn’t bitter. She was calm, confident, aware that now she was back by her husband's side. The only place she’d really wanted to be. Her fair, just husband, who, although called her Princess, had always treated her like his Queen.

“Baby, how did he die?” Peter asked as he rose from his seat to stand in front of her. His head hung low, his forehead almost touching hers. It was the closest he could allow himself to be to her right now.

Her eyes gazed up into his and he watched as her expression changed. A fear grew in her eyes in a way he had never seen before. Even when he had first met her on the edge of 17, when his whole empire wasn’t even a dream. When she was still afraid of her Father and his job, even then he hadn’t seen this kind of fear in her eyes.

“He couldn’t let him have it.” Her voice was small, timid as tears began to well in her eyes.

“Who? He couldn’t let who have it?”

He was patient as he waited for her to find her voice, to bypass all of the painful memories that seemed to be flooding her. 

“They call him the Vulture.”

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

New chapters will drop every Friday, but it's okay, you don't have to wait for chapter 2, this is a double drop and it's already waiting for you right here!

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker #andrew!peter x reader #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker x reader #mob!Peter parker #Andrew!Peter x reader #reader insert #no use of y/n #spiderman #fan fiction #mob!au #Mob!spiderman #tasm!peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #the angel in the garden of evil #chapter 1 #mob story

[no-white-dress]

Alright everyone, gather around for

RIMINI COMICS INTERVIEW WITH IGINIO STRAFFI

Translated by me word by word because I do not have the patience to correct fake news spreading from half-baked translations again

HOST: As we already said, the Winx are turning 20. An incredible journey between 8 series [seasons], movies, spin-offs, and even a reboot, which I know you're preparing at this moment. In which moment – is there a particular moment when you noticed that this project was becoming something crazy? Was there a moment that made you understand this?

STRAFFI: Well, yes. It all happened fast. In 2004, when it aired first in Italy, then in France, then in the United States, then in Germany, in all the main countries and we got ratings that were double the normal for the various channels that aired Winx, and we got the data from Mattel and other licensees that sold products – dolls and whatnot – as if they were bread so we realized that these characters had, in fact, let's say, broken through everywhere. The recipe, the contents of the Winx were truly global and universal.

HOST: They worked. Cool, cool. I imagine it must have been an incredible emotion to find out that they were becoming an event...

STRAFFI: For me it was even earlier, when we started the animation tests, to see from the static drawing these characters who moved, flew, who talked etcetera, I already realized they had something really special. We studied the eye, a bit all that was the look of the Winx, it was all really, really powerful and us boys asked "please come out of the screen".

HOST (laughing): True, true. Raise your hand if you ever fell in love with a Winx! ...Pretty much everyone. What do you mean only Musa? [to the audience] And going back to the beginning of it all, were there creative difficulties during the creation of the show, maybe in regards to the construction of the Winx's world, the story, or their very personality?

STRAFFI: No. For the story I took almost a year, 9-10 months, like a real gestation, to pinpoint everything, so much so that I had already written the first 3 seasons, hoping for the first to do well. But there was already the fil rouge, the revelations that had to happen proceeding with the story. Instead, the graphical part was indeed a little more complex, because after having already realized one episode, and even presenting it to TVs, I realized that they weren't as strong, as original as we wanted, as made in Italy, as innovative, so we restarted everything. I told my closest collaborators, "I realized they aren't strong enough, we must start over with the graphic research". There have been scenes of people who wanted to jump out of the window, it wasn’t easy, and I added to the team a real fashion stylist, going back to the discourse about the arts, of how important specialization is. This girl, she was from Ancona but worked in Milan for the Prada group, Miu Miu, realized for us a series of looks, haircuts, very fresh and innovative, and from there, translated into models for animation, were born the Winx as you have known them on TV, because of the pilot which was called Magic Bloom, nothing aired.

HOST: I imagine in a creative process, to be ready to take the idea and set it aside to restart...

STRAFFI: You never do that in a cartoon, because it has frightening costs, so when you've already arrived to animation and color, you don't throw anything away, you go on anyway. However, this project was so important, Rainbow had some extra money from Tommy&Oscar, from previous projects, and since I'm passionate about my profession I said "who cares, let's throw everything away and make something even stronger".

HOST: It worked, it worked great! So I would give him an applause. Now, I'd have some questions that come directly from the community. A lot of questions were selected, we took the most requested, and we bring them here so maybe the community can satiate some curiosity. They ask: "if you could change something in the plot of Winx, what would you change?"

STRAFFI: I must say nothing, because it worked so well I wouldn't change anything. Maybe I'd be more careful from season 4 onwards, since we, let's say, followed the requests of broadcasters etcetera; instead, like we're doing in the reboot, I'd be more careful with that, meaning, with maintaining the story really, really in syntony with what is Winx's DNA, which is to always be one step ahead, with content different from the usual, ideas that maybe are new to the public, and I think this is the only element we always need to keep in mind.

HOST: Absolutely, absolutely yes. They also ask if it would be possible, although we just talked about it earlier, to know more about the origins of the Winx Club as Magic Bloom.

STRAFFI: Well, what I said before, I mean, the series was called [that as] working title because we never thought of calling it Magic Bloom, it's a too childish title, but, let's say, it was really different especially in regards to graphic; the story was pretty similar but the graphic was very different. From there, this huge work I mentioned to remake everything to make something new.

HOST: Then we have, instead, a curiosity about your personal taste: who is your favorite villain of the animated series?

STRAFFI: Which one? [to the crowd]

CROWD: Valtor

STRAFFI: Valtor is the favorite villain, but come on guys, the Trix are too cool. I'd even make a spin-off on the Winx, maybe live action, I'm thinking about it. [pretty sure he mixed up and meant Trix here] Because we know little of the Trix.

HOST: Exactly. Instead, your favorite transformation?

STRAFFI: Heh... Enchantix.

HOST: Enchantix. Dr Straffi gave something away about transformations. Then the community asks: "have you ever wanted to add a fairy with a different power, and in that case, which power?"

STRAFFI: I thought about it sometimes, but then... they're already so many, because 6 characters are a lot, plus Roxy, who is this seventh Winx who arrives every now and then, let's say I would've liked to have a telepathic fairy, who could read others' minds a bit, but let's say Musa is a bit like that, so we don't need another one, we have them all.

HOST: Instead, in the case of a brand-new character to add as a member of Winx Club, can you give us a famous person you'd be inspired by to create a new character?

STRAFFI: Well, now in the reboot we will have big news. A very, very important character will make his entrance in this new series [NOTE: he uses male pronouns because "character" is a male noun in Italian, we don't know the gender for sure yet!], and for the visual part we haven't got an inspiration yet, but...

HOST: There's a few ideas.

STRAFFI: There's a few ideas.

HOST: You have already answered the last question, in fact they asked if new characters would be introduced in the reboot, apparently there will be a few surprises.

STRAFFI: There will be big surprises in the reboot, something really, really new, so I invite you all to... now one more year, about one year and a half of production, but, but I think the new fans but especially those of yesterday will find it an interesting and engaging show, from all points of view, from the content to the graphic part of it.

HOST: I am really curious. Hands up if you're curious! But we can't do any spoiler, of any kind, can't help it. So I ask you one more big applause for Dr. Iginio Straffi, thank you again for being with us...

STRAFFI: Thank you.

#winx club #winx reboot #rimini #rimini comics #iginio straffi #interview

[summercreolefanfictioner]

Well, I can understand how's that Jigokuraku anime-only watchers jump into the assumption that Gabimaru and Sagiri would end up together. I mean, their dynamics are strongly exposed episodes to episodes. In the current episode, they seems already understanding each other. Meanwhile Yui only appears in Gabi's memory. Although Gabimaru still mentioning his wife like always, it gave the "okay, something isn't right with our MC that he's overly obsessed to his wife, there must be something fishy about his wife" vibes. Moreover, in the opening theme we saw a scene where Yui is bowing and multiple doors slam right before her. Also that scene where Yui and Gabimaru are standing face to face, then suddenly Yui is replaced with Sagiri. That's dragging people to conclusion "so the wife is going to disappear?" "Ohhh sure they will get seperated". It must be spend years to get all the episodes animated. I hope people would take their time to read the manga since it worth reading (and remove their bad thought about Yui's existence).

(tbh I agree with you on the last part since I would love if people would just read the manga but alas some of them have no patience)

in my honest opinion, I like both ships (gabiyui and gabisagi). it's just that I don't ship sagiri and gabimaru romantically and I know well they won't develop any romantic feelings for one another (I have canon evidence for this). and even if I didn't read the manga, I would be aware that gabimaru is fixated on being with yui as soon as possible and this is evidenced by episode 1 up until episode 6 (I am writing this in a time where episode 6 is the latest ep)

episode 1 already hinted abt yui being closed off from the public after gabimaru was arrested. she doesn't talk to anyone. she doesn't eat the meals prepared for her. she is basically locked up in the house she shared with gabimaru in iwagakure, waiting for his return bcos she knows he will return to her. remember, they already had this one convo that if ever he wanted to leave the village and stop killing, she will stay and follow him.

and gabimaru, realizing that she was still out there waiting for him (as per sagiri in episode 1), decided to embark on this whole shinsenkyo journey. hence why this toasted marshmallow of a guy (huhu I am sorry) is like "let's go find the elixir" "I can't waste more time" "I need to return to my wife" to the point of almost killing sagiri bcos he has to get the elixir before the other iwagakure ninjas make landfall. in short, as much as possible, gabimaru wanted this shinsenkyo trip to end quickly (as evidenced in episode 6). the only time he made a stop on rushing their journey is when sagiri fainted due to her injuries and inhaling poison (w/c was gabimaru's fault so yeah nothing romantic there)

and I don't think there's anything suspicious abt gabimaru thinking or mentioning his wife or something. dude has nothing after all other than yui. remember, the only good thing in iwagakure that gabimaru has is his wife and with her, he learned a lot of things (like saying thanks, praying to gods, cooking like a normal couple, emotions called love and hatred and weakness).

as for sagiri, well she has a lot on her plate given how men always look down on her being a samurai and that she should just be a woman and go home and bear children from the next yamada head. hence why she was always in a constant "I am a samurai and I will not back down just bcos you see me as a woman" thing. but hey episode 6 has highlighted her in a new light so yeah I am glad people are now changing their opinions abt sagiri bcos she ain't weak as what they deemed her to be. plus given how she's has not been sent off to the battlefield before shinsenkyo, it makes sense why some people look down on her.

I know there's a lot of emotional development and learnings gabimaru and sagiri have with each other throughout the series, but I don't think it's something that will turn romantic (even Mappa emphasized in the ending song abt sagiri's wish for gabimaru and yui to be reunited and this also speaks abt the song). one thing abt Hell's Paradise that I like is that they make all romantic ships SO OBVIOUS AND STRAIGHTFORWARD. like viewers won't have to think "I think this person will fall for this person" or "there's sexual tension" bcos the show will let you know if there is romance blooming.

besides, just bcos two people develop emotionally together, doesn't mean there has to be something romantic between them. you can grow emotionally through a reliable mentor, a close friend, a stranger, a scene from a movie or drama. in short: NOT EVERYTHING HAS TO DO WITH ROMANCE.

plus I take Hell's Paradise as gabimaru's redemption arc but also sagiri's new beginning arc. bcos after this trip, gabimaru will finally have his happy ending while sagiri will embark on her own journey (they just met in the middle to teach each other an important lesson)

and I didn't know people take the opening like that hehe. tbh yui bowing with the doors closing kinda signifies gabi's journey in kotaku tho. like there are 3 sliding doors and kotaku has like 3 areas??? that they all need to bypass before getting the elixir. and getting the elixir means getting the pardon which is equal to being free and being with yui. that also seems to be the case with yui being replaced by sagiri like he has to face this trip first before meeting her. again this is MY TAKE on the opening.

maybe we should just ask Mappa why they animated it that way so we won't have further assumptions.

bottom line: while I do get annoyed at gabisagi shippers who think of the pair romantically, I get uhh 'sadder' than 'annoyed' bcos some of them tend to romanticize stuff just bcos a guy saved a girl or they comforted each other. the thing is, if people always romanticize every interaction between gabimaru and sagiri, then they are missing the whole point of these two characters' self journey.

(but if you still ship gabimaru and sagiri romantically without accepting canon evidence and basing everything on all your delusional beliefs, then uhh idk bout that)

#jigokuraku #hell's paradise #gabimaru #gabimaru the hollow #yui jigokuraku #yui hell's paradise #yamada asaemon sagiri #sagiri #gabiyui #admin summer #gabimaru x yui #gabimaru and yui

[can-of-pringles]

King and Lionheart - Chapter 5

Rating: Teen and up audiences

Warnings: Nothing that's not in the series.

Word Count: 3k.

Summary: Dream follows Death along while she works.

Also Read On AO3

Dream glanced down at the pigeons pecking the ground where he’d thrown some bread crumbs. He sat by himself at a park bench, occasionally watching people in the park minding their business and clearly looking like they were enjoying the day more than he was.

He noticed the sound of a soccer ball being thrown in his direction and easily caught it. The person who had thrown it came over to retrieve the ball.

“Sorry, man. Nice catch, though.���

Dream silently handed the ball back to him.

The man said thanks and walked away, only noticing near the end that a woman dressed in black was glancing at him as she walked towards Dream.

“Come on, Franklin. What you waitin’ for?” His teammates got his attention, and he soon joined the game.

Death sat down on the bench next to Dream, initially looking around at the scenery before looking at him; smiling.

“What are you doin’?”

“I’m feeding the pigeons.” He didn’t look up.

She nodded. “You do that too much, you know what you get?”

Dream slightly shook his head.

“Fat pigeons.” She grinned.

Despite her joke, he continued to sulk.

“That’s from Mary Poppins. Did you ever see it?”

“No,” he spoke.

A little girl ran by, scaring away the pigeons and leaving Dream looking mildly annoyed. Death’s reaction was instead a smile. Despite his sister’s cheerful mood, he couldn’t help but stay focused on his negative emotions. He frowned.

“Okay, so what’s the matter?” She instinctively picked up on it.

“What do you mean?”

“I can tell something’s wrong. I mean, look at you.” She gestured vaguely. “Sittin’ here, moping, pigeon-feeding. It’s not like you.”

Dream held back a sigh. “No. Perhaps it isn’t. I don’t know what’s wrong, but… you’re right. Something is the matter.”

Death frowned and furrowed her brows. She leaned back, preparing to sit for a while and listen.

Dream took a moment to collect his thoughts, still looking upset.

“When they captured me, I just had one thought. Vengeance. It wasn’t as satisfying as I’d expected.”

Death slightly tilted her head, listening patiently.

“Meanwhile, my kingdom had fallen apart. My tools long since stolen and scattered. And so I embarked upon a journey to find them. Which I did. I’m now more powerful than I have been in eons. And yet…” He paused.

Death leaned forward, glancing at the loaf of bread. “Here you are, feeding the pigeons.”

“You see, until then, I’d had a true quest. A purpose beyond my function and then suddenly, it was over, and… I felt disappointed.” He furrowed his brows and squinted. “Let down. Empty. Does that make sense?” He looked at her. “I was so sure that once I got everything back, I’d feel good. But in some ways, I feel worse than when I started. I feel like… nothing.” He glanced back down once more, clenching his jaw. “There.”

She looked at him.

“You asked.” He looked away again.

Death placed her hand on his knee, trying to comfort him. Dream looked at her.

“You could have called me, you know,” she admitted.

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

Death rolled her eyes and sighed. “Oh, I don’t believe it.” She stood up and looked down at him. “Let me tell you something, Dream.”

He looked up when she took the bread loaf out of his hand.

“And I’m only gonna say this once, so you better pay attention. You are utterly the stupidest, most self-centered, pathetic excuse for an anthropomorphic personification on this or any other plane,” she exclaimed.

Dream couldn’t help the surprised expression on his face.

“Feeling sorry for yourself because your little game is over and you haven’t got the balls to go out and find a new one. You’re as bad as Desire.”

Dream stayed silent.

“No, worse.” She chucked the bread back at him and he caught it.

“Did it never occur to you that I would be worried about you?” She frowned.

“I didn’t think you—”

“Exactly. You didn’t think.”

He went silent again, not meeting her gaze.

“I really thought sending that girl to you would help,” she muttered.

Before Dream could respond, a ‘heads up!’ interrupted and a soccer ball went flying towards them. Death caught it and the same guy as before came to retrieve the ball.

“Wow. You’re as good as your… friend there.”

She tossed the ball back to him, and he caught it.

“He’s not my friend. He’s my brother. And he’s an idiot.”

“I’m just feeding the birds,” he murmured, looking down at the ground.

Death smiled and turned her attention back to Dream. “Look, I can’t stay here all day. I’ve got work to do.”

The man left, briefly glancing back at them.

“You can come with me if you want, or you can stay here and sulk.” Death offered.

Dream stayed silent as he thought it over.

“I’ll come with you, I suppose.”

Death nodded and smiled slightly. “Well, don’t do me any favors.” She tilted her head.

Dream looked up at her before standing and following. Before they could go, the man walked up to Death again.

“Sorry, before you go, um, could I maybe see you again?”

“Sure, Franklin. You’ll see me again.” She gave him a slightly sad smile.

He raised his brows. “Seriously?”

She nodded. “Soon.”

Franklin quickly nodded. “Okay, cool. Yeah, let me just get your number and…” He turned around and threw the soccer ball down. Once he realized, confusion showed on his face, and turned back around. “Wait, how did you know my…”

He paused and looked around, growing more confused when they were nowhere to be seen.

“Come on, Franklin! Are you playin’ or not?”

---

Now joining her, Dream walked alongside Death as they passed the small shops. A fresh fruit stand caught her eye.

“Look!” Death looked over all the fruit. “Yum!”

She talked to the seller, pointing to the apples. “Okay, two, please.”

“None for me, thank you,” Dream added.

“They’re good for you.” She pointed out.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You can just have it later,” Death continued.

Dream stayed silent, slightly giving her a look.

She looked back at the seller. “Just one. Thanks.”

He picked one and gave it to her. “There you go. It’s a gift.”

“Aw. Thank you.” She smiled and then glanced at Dream. “So nice,” she spoke before taking a bite out of the apple. “Mmm. That is delicious.”

They started walking side by side again.

“You are good with them,” Dream said.

“Apples?” She furrowed her eyebrows.

“Humans.”

She hummed in acknowledgment and held the apple in front of him. “Bite?” Her tone was slightly playful.

“No, thank you,” Dream sounded lighthearted as well.

“Hmm. Have you seen any of the others since you’ve been back?”

He shook his head. “Have you?”

She took another bite of the apple and gestured vaguely.

“We did have one family dinner when you were away. The twins were in high spirits. Hmm, Desire was, anyway.”

“With me gone, I have no doubt.” He ignored his frustration inside.

“I don’t know. I think Desire missing having their usual sparring partner across the dinner table,” she remarked.

He glanced down for a moment before looking at her again. “Any word of the prodigal?”

She shook her head. “No. Still missing. You were both missed.” She nudged him with her shoulder.

They continued walking in silence as Death ate her apple. She glanced at him, giving him a look as if she was waiting for him to say something.

“‘How are you, sis? How have you been keeping?’” She gestured with her apple. “Aw, I’m well, Dream. Thanks for asking.”

He tried fighting the urge to smile but lost, allowing a slightly amused smile on his face. He looked at her. “How are you, my sister? How have you been keeping?”

She gently hooked her arm with his. “I’m worried about my brother. And I’m enjoying this apple.” She held the apple up.

Death’s facial expression changed, furrowing her brows as she remembered something. “Oh, by the way, how’s Lee doing? I was curious how that was playing out. We have a deal, y’know.”

Dream refrained from sighing. “She’s acting like her usual self and always insists on speaking her mind. Quite stubborn…”

“Sounds like someone I know.” She gave him a teasing grin.

Dream looked at her, mildly frowning. “Lee Quinn and I are nothing alike.”

She shrugged and took another bite of the apple. Her pace slowed, and she looked up when she heard the sound of a violin.

“Can you hear it?”

He glanced up as well. They stopped and spotted the building where the music was coming from. Dream glanced back at her.

“I know this piece.”

Death nodded, smiling. They both looked back up.

“I haven’t heard it in 200 years…” he sounded wistful.

Death looked at him, placing her hand on his back. “Come on.” She walked forward and left him to follow.

---

The music grew louder as they entered the flat. They watched from the door as an old man played the violin. He paused, coughing slightly.

Death walked into the room. “No. Don’t stop, please.” She smiled, referring to his playing. 

He looked up at her. “Uh, sorry for the noise.”

“It’s not noise. It’s Schubert. Keep going.” She encouraged.

Dream stood in the doorframe, watching and keeping silent.

“I can’t. He never finished it.” The old man chuckled. “All we have is a fragment.”

Death had a small smile on her face.

“Oh, forgive me, I… I am Harry.”

Death gave him a sad but knowing look on her face. “I know who you are, Harry.”

He tilted his head.

Death moved closer, kneeling more to his level where he sat. “Do you know who I am?”

After a moment, a look of realization showed on his face. It morphed into an upset expression.

“No. Not yet. Please.” He pleaded, shaking his head.

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “It’s time.”

Harry nodded eventually.

Dream watched from the doorway, keeping his usual neutral expression. Though his mind wandered for a brief moment, thinking about Lee. Had it been like this when his sister had come to take her? Thinking about her being distressed made him feel more uneasy than he’d thought it would.

“Can I just… There’s something I have to say. If that’s all right,” Harry said.

“Of course.”

He nodded and placed the violin down, beginning to pray in Hebrew. When he finished reciting the prayer, he looked at Death. She stood up and reached her hand out for him to take. He accepted it and slowly stood up from his chair.

“I’m glad I said the Shema. My old man always said it would guarantee you a place in Heaven.” He pointed up at the ceiling, gesturing to Heaven. He shrugged. “If you believe in Heaven. Hmm?”

He and Death glanced back at his body.

“I look so old. So empty,” he remarked.

She turned her attention to him again.

“So, I’m dead. Now what?” He asked, accepting his fate.

Death responded. “Now’s when you find out, Harry,”

She led him away, prepared to take him to the Sunless Lands. Dream turned away from the door, already moving to leave. He glanced at an old photo on the mantle as he waited for Death to do her job.

“You ready?” She stood in the doorway, smiling.

He looked back up at her, and they left the home together.

---

They walked outside again, taking a route on a bridge.

“I thought he was sweet, didn’t you?” She asked.

“Sweet? I don’t know. Perhaps,” his tone was light.

Death looked at the scenery, her hand trailing the bridge railing.

“My sister…”

“Yeah?” She didn’t look up at him, still focused on following the rail.

“When I was captured, it wasn’t me they were looking for.”

That got her full attention. She looked at him, furrowing her brows and frowning.

“It was you,” he said.

She came to a slow halt and they both stopped walking. She nodded.

“Yeah. I know,” her tone was sad.

He looked at her, squinting and furrowing his eyebrows. He frowned before his expression changed to surprise. Death placed her arm around his shoulders and sighed. His confusion grew when she started taking her shoes off.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking my shoes off. You should take yours off too. It’s good to touch the Earth with your bare feet. It’s grounding.” She explained.

He stared at her, mildly baffled.

“Come on, I don’t want to miss the next one.” She started walking again, carrying her shoes.

Dream watched her for a second before following again.

---

Now at a popular vacation pond spot, Death looked through the crowds and moved towards the next person she had to take.

“Hi, Sam,” she spoke.

He looked back at her, confused.

Death smiled.

“Oh.” He chuckled nervously. “Hi. I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

She went through the same routine of waiting for him to realize. It didn’t get easier with time.

“Oh, no.” Sam looked at the pond before looking back at her. “No, no. I need to talk to my wife for, like, one second.” He begged.

“Sam…”

“You don’t understand. All our flight information is on my phone. I just need to give her the code,” he stammered.

“I’m so sorry, Sam.” She grimaced.

“But we’re on our honeymoon.”

His tone made her chest ache. “Your time is up,” she continued.

Sam stared at her in disbelief. He turned his head when he heard his wife calling his name. He watched as she stood up from her chair and walked toward the water. She continued to call him, not being able to see his spirit or Death.

“Come on, hon.” Death reached her hand out for him.

He hesitated and glanced at his wife before ultimately deciding to take her hand. She began to lead him away.

His wife kept looking out at the water. Dream watched the scene, seeing her horrified reaction as people in the water pulled Sam’s body up to the shore. She shouted his name and ran toward the people. He watched and ignored the stinging pain in his throat he felt, seeing her kneel at her husband’s lifeless body; sobbing and repeating his name.

---

“How do you do it?” He asked his sister as they walked side by side again.

“Do what?”

“This. Be there, for all of them?” He refrained from frowning.

She started to speak before pausing, slightly shrugging and gesturing with her arms. “I have a job to do. And I do it.”

He looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

“When the first living thing existed, I was there. When the last living thing dies, I’ll put the chairs on the table, turn out the lights and… lock the universe behind me when I leave.” She explained. “And I’m not there for all of them. There are exceptions. Mad Hettie. And then there’s your ongoing project. How’s he faring up after all this time?”

“Who? Hob Gadling?” He asked.

“Hmm.”

“I don’t know. I was forced to miss our last appointment.”

“Well, I’m sure he’d love to see you. They’re never too keen to see me, though,” Death remarked.

“Does it not bother you?”

She shrugged. “I actually used to think I had the hardest job in all our family.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, did you?” He lightheartedly teased, slightly smiling.

“They fear the Sunless Lands, yet they enter your realm every night without fear,” she said.

He wanted to interject and mention something about the nightmares but held back.

“And yet I am far more terrible than you.”

She chuckled before looking forward again. “I don’t know. Miss Lee hasn’t sent me any complaints, and she’s still keeping the deal.”

Dream didn’t speak, instead furrowing his brows. “Why did you send her to me?”

“She wanted the choice.” Death shrugged. “And… it seems like maybe having her around is a good thing?”

He thought over her words.

“Perhaps…” he muttered, eventually.

She smiled before getting back to answering his original question. “It was fine in the beginning. Dying and living were new things and people did them with the enthusiasm they always bring to new things. And then after a bit, it just got harder.”

“But you continued.”

She nodded and then hesitated.

“I thought about giving up. Walking out.” She confessed, walking ahead of him.

He stood for a moment, thinking about what she said. He watched as she walked towards another home.

“This was a long time ago, long before this world.”

---

“It really started to get to me. I got kind of hard and brittle inside.”

They were in the house now, stopping to talk.

“I mean, people feel as pleased to have been born as if they did it themselves. But they get upset and hurt and shaken when they die.” She held back a sigh.

Dream looked at her, listening.

“But eventually, I learned that all they really need is a kind word and a friendly face. Like they had in the beginning.”

Dream redirected his attention when he noticed another voice. He saw a mother leaning over a crib, talking sweetly to her daughter in the other room. The baby fussed slightly, and she turned to leave to get her food.

Death slowly walked towards the crib. She looked down at the baby, listening as she babbled. Death gently picked her up, cradling her. Dream hung back, watching from a distance.

“Yeah, I’m afraid so,” she spoke softly to the baby.

Dream stared, his eyes betraying his emotions. He frowned lightly.

“That’s all there is, little one. That’s all you get.” Death continued to comfort the infant.

She walked away, carrying the baby and preparing to take her to the Sunless Lands.

Dream paused before deciding to move forward, looking down at the empty crib. It was getting harder to ignore the pain he felt inside. He remembered how Orpheus’ crib looked, similar in design.

Death walked back into the room, the baby no longer in her arms. She looked at Dream and he managed to focus on the present, glancing at her.

“We can go.” She whispered, her expression mournful.

They both started to leave, hearing the mother still talking in the background, unaware of what happened.

---

“I find myself wondering about humanity. Their attitude towards your gift is so strange. Why do they fear the Sunless Lands? It is as natural to die as it is to be born.” Dream asked.

“People may not be ready for my gift. But they get it anyway. No matter what the circumstance.” She explained. “At the end, each of us stands alone. The Sunless Lands are far away and the journey is hard. Most of us will be glad for the company of a friend.”

---

They walked together in a park shaded by the huge trees.

“It’s funny looking back now. I used to think I had to do this all by myself,” Death started.

“But you do,” he replied.

“No.” She shook her head. “At the end, I’m there with them. I’m holding their hand and they’re holding mine.”

He looked at her, feeling curious.

“I’m not alone when I’m doing my job.” She glanced around for a bit before looking at him again. “And neither are you. Think about it.” She gently touched his arm, and they stopped walking. “The only reason we even exist, you and I, and Desire and Despair, the whole family. We’re here to serve them.”

He looked at her before glancing at the surrounding humans.

“It isn’t about quests or finding purpose outside our function.”

They continued walking again.

“Our purpose is our function. We’re here for them.” She gestured. “Since I figured that out, I realized I need them as much as they need me.”

“I’ve seen so many cool things and people and worlds.” Death grinned.

They were back in the spot where they’d started, walking with their arms linked.

“I’ve learned so much. Lots of people don’t have a job they love doing, do they?”

He looked at her again.

“So, I think I’m really very lucky.” She added, smiling before it faded once she remembered her schedule. “Listen, I’ve got to head back soon.”

They stopped their walk. Dream moved to stand in front of her, holding her hands in his. She looked faintly surprised.

“You’ve taught me something I had forgotten. I thank you, my sister.” He had a small smile on his face.

She smiled back. “Aw.” She glanced down and then back up at him, nodding. “That’s what family’s about, little brother.”

Her attention was focused back on the man from the beginning, Franklin. She sighed. “One last appointment, then I have to go.”

There was the sound of tires screeching in the background and a crash soon after.

“I, too, am late for an appointment,” he said.

She tilted her head and smiled. “Tell him I said hello.”

Dream smiled.

There was commotion in the background, sounds of people rushing over to an accident, and someone calling Franklin’s name.

“I have to go,” she spoke in a hushed tone.

Dream nodded before leaving.

Death turned her direction toward Franklin.

“Hey.” He ran towards her, holding the soccer ball in his arm. “Did you see that? That car came this close to hitting me.” He gestured, putting his thumb and finger close together.

“This close, huh?” She copied him.

“Yeah.”

“Come with me, Franklin. I need to show you something.” She took his arm and led him away.

“Okay,” he hesitantly agreed.

She turned her head to look back at Dream, waving goodbye. “See ya, Dream.”

He glanced back at her.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

She started to walk away with Franklin, witnessing the accident he was in.

---

Dream wandered on his own to his late appointment. He walked down a busy path, passing people by. A man walked out of a store and ended up making eye contact with him. In an attempt to be more like his sister, Dream gave him a short, polite nod.

The man backed up, taken aback by his appearance. Dream felt disappointment building up inside as he continued.

He finally made it to where he and Hob Gadling used to meet. However, over time, it had been abandoned. Tall fences were blocking it. He looked and felt puzzled, trying to figure out what to do next. He glanced down and noticed a long arrow in spray paint on the fence. There had been words in spray paint as well.

‘The new inn’

Dream turned and began to follow the arrow.

Now at the new building, he watched as people hung around it. There was a sign on top of the building that read ‘The New Inn’. Same as the paint.

He walked inside, looking for Hob. Finally, he saw him sitting down, writing something. He looked up and saw Dream standing there.

He smiled. “You’re late.”

Dream chuckled softly and smiled. “It seems I owe you an apology. I’ve always heard it impolite to keep one’s friends waiting.”

Hob smiled again.

Dream pulled out the chair in front of his table, sitting across from him. He leaned back and prepared to listen to the man’s stories. He smiled.

---

“Attend, sweet sibling. It is I, Desire.” They were trying to summon Despair of the Endless. “I stand in my gallery and I hold your sigil.” They held her hook in their hand, carefully kissing it.

“Our brother has found a way out of his cage. Our plan has failed. But don’t worry. I have a new one.” They smiled and walked away from the row of sigils.

#off topic but can i just say how pretty death is like omg #the sandman #the sandman netflix #lee quinn #the sandman oc #sandman oc #dream of the endless #morpheus #death of the endless #the sandman fanfic #the sandman fanfiction #sandman fanfic #sandman fanfiction #hob gadling #desire of the endless #my writing #pringles writing

[talesofskyrim]

Seris Stormcloak

War. War was all her father seemed to care about. War with the Thalmor,War with the Empire,War with the Forsworn. That was all he spoke about,all he thought about,all day every day. “Would he even notice if I went missing?” Seris wondered as she finished yet another piece of embroidery. “When was the last time he even spoke to me? Or asked how my studies were going?” She asked herself. 

Ever since the great war,and the beginning of the civil war,it was as if all Ulfric could think about was war,often times neglecting both his city and his daughter in his obsession. Seris often tried to get his attention but many times she couldn't even get a word out before she was shoo'ed away to her room so her father could discuss his battle plans with his generals and advisors. “Go practice your sewing,little cub.”Ulfric had said to her when she had come to ask him to join her for dinner. “Not right now”he would say if she Asked him if he wanted to go walk around the city. Nothing she did ever called his attention from his battle plans,and so feeling unwanted and unloved,Seris decided it was time she left the palace and the confines of the city and carved out her own life. She would become so good at adventuring and magic that her father would HAVE to see her. However her plan to run away would have a few roadblocks in its path.

Her nanny and tutors were always close at hand,and the guards were told to never let her leave the palace unless accompanied by a guard or nanny. She was 23 winters old and yet she was still treated like a fragile 4 year old. After considering all possible failures,Seris chose to sneak out under the cover of night.

It had taken weeks to prepare but finally she was ready to put her plan into action. While her Nanny slept,Seris grabbed her backpack full of supplies,dressed warmly and climbed out of her window and onto the roof. Once she had good footing,she scurried down to the city and out the main gate,her face covering and hood keeping her identity a secret.

She hurried to the stables and gave the carriage driver some coin,asking him to take her to Whiterun. She hoped that no dragons would swoop down and eat her as the carriage took her to her destination,and that the guards would let her into the city when she arrived.

It had been a bumpy journey,but finally,after a few days,Seris had made it to Whiterun. The climate was warm and comfortable and the sun shone brightly apron her face. “So this is Whiterun…”She mused to herself. The city wasn't too big,but it was full of activity,noise,and all sorts of smells. Best of all was the fact that no one recognized her. She was free to be whatever she wanted. First thing first though, she chose to rent a room at the Inn so she could sleep after her tiring journey,and perhaps get some food and drink. There she would pick up some work and maybe even take up some bounty hunting. Though she figured she may need to change her appearance some,as no doubt by now her father would have been notified she was missing. “Not that he would care”Seris thought quietly. 

#skyrim #skyrim dragonborn #Seris Stormcloak #ulfric stormcloak

[miniimapp]

Aaron T Proposing

Gen ;; Fluff - Story

Warnings ;; Fuck it's fluffy in here, bit of crying and whatnot

Proofread + Edited ;; Meh, not really

Auth. Note ;; WELCOME TO DAY 4 OF THE 4*TOWN CHRISTMAS COUNTDOWN !! We're gonna have a little series within this countdown of 4*town proposals as well so that's fun :))

Enjoy !! <3

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It's been an odd day today, you muse to yourself as you wait for T to come back with the promised ice creams. You'd woken up, fully prepared to spend the day in the warmth and comfort of your bed when you were rudely stripped of your blankets and pulled out of your haven. If you didn't love T so much you would have absolutely destroyed him, but as it stands you do so you've placated yourself by the thought of getting petty revenge over the next couple of days instead.

You've been pushed and led in all different directions today and, honestly, it's beginning to wear you down. If you'd perhaps had some time to prepare yourself for a full day out you'd be feeling a little more enthusiastic but you still long for your bed and cuddles from your beloved partner, is that too much to ask?

You spot T weaving through the crowd to get back to you, cones in hand. A smile finds it way back onto your face, though smaller than you would normally be able to conjure. Still, you're never without a smile when T's around.

"Hello, sweet cheeks." T grins, passing you one of the cones.

"Never again. Glad to see you came back with my one true love."

At your words T feigns heartbreak, pushing his free hand into his chest as if to hold his heart together, "Oh, how you wound me!"

You roll your eyes and hide your smile behind the ice cream you've already begun to demolish. "For goodne- just eat, Aaron."

"Yes, my love. Absolutely, starlight. Anything for you, angel." T laughed freely ask he ducked out of the way of your hand. "Sorry, sorry."

After a couple minutes of laughter and chatter and of course ice cream, the two of you finish and T starts rambling about what else you can do in the day. Unfortunately, after such a long day filled with various activities and food you felt tired and ready to go home and broke the news to T. He looks a little disappointed for a second before brightening again and pulling you up for the final time.

"Let us maketh our way to our humble abode, lest I get pummelled by my dear lover." You wince at the rubbish attempt at a Shakespearean English accent and speed away from T in hopes of escaping it.

On the journey back to your home you find your eyes flicking over to T lots, way over the usual amount of glances you tend to steal. Not that you can help it, every time you look away he seems to move just slightly enough to catch your eye again.

You can feel yourself frowning and your eyebrows furrowing in concern. Ever since you asked to go home he's begun acting strangely.

..Have you upset him? You hope not, you just aren't feeling up to doing anything else today. All you want is to spend time with T in the comfort of your own home, with nothing to do and no one watching.

However, he was incredibly excited to spend the day with you but would he stay excited if you trudged along, ruining his plans with a growing grumpiness. No, going home was the best course of action..hopefully a lot of cuddles will make up for the foiled plans.

Once you get home, T rushes inside leaving you wide-eyed and confused, standing in the doorway. You close the door behind and make you way further into your home, stopping by the sofa as you watch T flip through movies on netflix.

Soon enough you're halfway through the 3rd movie in your marathon, happily commentating and poking fun at the characters choices. This is exactly what you wanted and you're so content, you never want to leave the encompassing warmth that both T and the sofa provide.

"I'm just saying, babe, if he'd grabbed the gun a little earlier maybe they wouldn't be in this situation." T explains to you, arms flinging around and gesturing, "I mean, what kind of idiot put his teammates in danger like that?"

You hum, nodding along with his argument "Right, I get your point but he the only opportunity he would have had to grab it earlier would've been when little miss love interest was getting ambushed. And, for the sake of the rest of the movie, they couldn't really have her die like that or this early. They also needed him to have his little knight in shining armour moment."

T frowns, "Still, he should've been more prepared. At this rate his while team is gonna die but that's alright, at least his wittle girlfwend will be okay."

You gasp dramatically, clutching your nonexistent pearls, "Are you saying you wouldn't save me in that situation?"

"Babe, done even try to put me in that "wOuLD yOu sTiLL loVe mE iF i wAS a wORm" kinda situation, I don't have the brain space to answer that right now." T makes his voice as high pitch as he can and starts wriggling on the sofa like a worm.

You burst out laughing, wheezes and snorts wracking your body as you watch "What- what the fuck, T?"

Looking back up at T immediately makes you crease again. "What? I didn't even do anything this time?" You try to answer but can't get the words out between your snorts and wheezes.

After what feels like hours and 3 ab workouts, you finally begin to calm down, your eyes watering enough to create a whole new river. You look up at T and find him watching you fondly, "What?"

"Marry me."

You eyes widen and you sit up straight, "I- what?"

T's eyes widen too, perhaps even more so than yours, and he starts panicking, over-gesturing with and awkward smile on his face "I mean, well, will you marry me? Would you like to? You- um, I feel like we should, or, uh, could, if you want to.. that is.. um.."

He looks up at you eyes, brimming with panicked, unshed tears and his smile quivers, "I didn't mean to, um, do it this way. Had a whole plan but um, yeah. What, um, what-"

You cut him of with a kiss on the cheeks and cover both of his hands with your own, tears of your own brimming in your eyes. "Yes."

You feel him squeeze your hands, a disbelieving smile begins to crack across T's face, "Wait, really?"

You nod, tears now spilling over and down your cheeks, "Without a doubt in my mind, I would be honoured to marry you, Aaron."

The biggest and brightest grin you've ever seen breaks out across all of T's face, lighting him up with a kind of happiness you've never seen before. "Thank you!"

You smile just as brightly in return. "Don't Thank me, it's an honour to be your fiance, not a hard decision."

You throw your arms around his shoulders and squeeze him tightly, never wanting to let go. When his arms wrap around you in return your smile grows even wider. You've never been happier.

"Oh fuck, I left the ring in my coat."

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Hope you enjoyed !! <3

#4town christmas countdown #4town #4town aaron t #4*town aaron t #4town aaron t x reader

[momobani]

YOU’RE NOT KEANU REEVES

If Your Winter Is Hard - Chapter 4 - 11.9k

medium!minghao x exorcist!reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

Warnings: exorcism(duh!); discussion of ghosts + death, reference to death of family members, light violence/ fighting, mention of guns, mention of grief, mention of suicide/ depiction of death scene, mention of food

Sum: your work proves that it will never give you a day off, and a surprise revelation leads you to take in a stray colleague.

A/N: lmao y’all ever heard of that group stray colleagues? Me neither. We’re almost halfway through omg, I feel like chapters from here on out will be mega long, so I tried to curb this one a little.

Point of reference for series: Sell Your Haunted House (and Hotel Del Luna but to a lesser extent, both amazing dramas, go watch). Disclaimer: lot of creative licence here lol, influenced by and used a lot of ideas from Sell Your Haunted House (e.g the setting, certain plot points and prop ideas) with some adaptation, some general/ stereotypical things about exorcism you can learn from mainstream media, nothing too intricate. [seriously go watch SYHH cuz it’s incredible and underrated af and I just had to pay homage to it somehow, so here’s a whole ass fic inspired by it haha]

It’s all open and endless road from here.

You switch gears and relax your hands around the wheel, falling into the steady thrum of the car’s motion and the way the landscape zips past you. Leaving the city was always the stressful part of these trips, making sure you can navigate to the right highway, avoiding the gruelling traffic if you could on your way out.

You’d dropped Hoshi off at his apartment after his doctor’s appointment, his brace finally gone and then made a pitstop at your house to get everything you’d prepared. It was a relatively long drive to the mountains.

The day before you’d even asked if Minghao wanted to come with you to see the tea plantation but he declined since he had a few classes that day. Understandable, but you couldn’t help but feel the little pang of disappointment that you’d make the journey alone again. You were sure that Minghao would have appreciated the vast beauty of the mountains, but you’ll just have to take him another time.

You hadn’t gone for a while to see your aunt, maybe six months or something like that, recalling the last time might have been when spring was leading into summer and now autumn was rolling into winter, two seasons gone in the blink of an eye.

The reason you’d decided to go now was not only because you’d been meaning to visit your aunt, maybe even ask her about group exorcisms, but because you’d somehow managed to finish your tea. You had plenty of the other herbs since those you used only if a medium was unwell after an exorcism, but the tea you drank all the time with Minghao.

There was also the silver lining that the trip was a way for you to relieve some stress; long drives were hypnotising, the dark greys of the asphalt all moulding into one as the scenery flew past you, an earthy sea of land stretching out for miles in any direction.

Before going all the way to the plantation, you liked to make a stop at a nearby lake, its mass encased by mountains. There you could look out to the summit of the closer set of peaks. Your car swivelled into a narrow path, the road a muddy mess since this part was not cemented. It wasn’t a problem since your car had the terrain grappling qualities of a jeep.

You drove to the edge of the path leading closest to the lake.

As you get out the car, you feel the icy chill of the wind on your skin, the temperature difference sending a shiver down your spine. You wrap your coat around you tightly and walk around the vehicle, standing near the edge of the lake. Your boots almost touch where the water laps at the shore gently, the wind forcing ripples across the surface.

You step back and perch on the hood of your car.

The water was otherwise still, a dark mix of indigo and spruce that hinted at the lake’s dangerous depths below. You imagined that in a few weeks the lake will freeze, its face becoming an arctic plane. It was a familiar scene; the way the mountain peaks stacked up against each other in the distance. You’d been here sun, rain, snow and fog, finding yourself in this exact spot during every season, alone.

Your sister never had the patience to stop by, always egging Jeonghan to drive faster because she was hungry or tired and hated the road.

Your lips feel heavy in a frown as you remember, snippets of the past floating around your head. You’d been finding yourself reminiscing a lot lately. You suspected it was because seeing Jeonghan had made the memories flood back in, though you acknowledged it was also that time of the year again.

You beg your brain to let go of the memories for a moment and focus on what you were seeing in the present.

It feels like serenity, sitting here in complete silence, nothing but the wind biting at your cheeks. This was the only place you could imagine staying undisturbed forever; it wasn’t a very well known spot and especially in winter, you’d never seen another soul here.

The cold is beginning to numb you so you take one last good look at the mountains and the lake, then retreat into the warmth of your car and get on the road again.

Large drops of water start to fall onto your windshield and you groan, the forecast having been wrong yet again. The rain keeps you company as you drive slower, your wipers doing their manic little dance across the glass, a quiet piano concerto playing on the radio you’d randomly flipped on.

It stops pouring by the time you reach the plantation, the humble village attached to it coming into view as you pull up the empty country road. You reach your aunt’s tiny bungalow in no time, parking in front where her old car was left, a sheen of wet leaves covering it from a nearby tree.

You take your bags and ring the doorbell. You had called ahead yesterday to see if she was okay to see you, if she had time. Somehow your aunt’s social life was busier than yours, what with you having to work more than hang out with your friends, well colleagues.

She opens the door, already smiling.

“YN!” She starts to usher you inside. “Come in, you must be freezing!”

“Hi, Aunty.” You hug her, letting the door shut. You can feel the way you reek of the cold outside and you must be chilling her but you let yourself be selfish for a moment and cling to her warmth. It was a long time since you’d hugged anyone.  

“You must be tired, come sit.” She practically drags you to the kitchen after you’ve taken off your boots. “You’re just on time, the soup’s almost ready.”

You smile at how attentive she’s being, helping you take off your coat and putting it on a hanger. You leave your overnight bag in the hallway and follow her with another bag. You’re stepping into the steamy kitchen and it feels like a heatwave washing over you.

“Are you trying to make a sauna in here?” You look around and see there’s something cooking in the oven and on every available part of the stove top, four pots on the gas.

“I was just making dinner, it’s nothing much.” She says modestly. You scoff playfully.

“Nothing much? It looks like a five course meal to me.” You find an empty corner of the counter and unload the plastic bag you’re holding. “I bought dessert. Your favourite. I know you can’t get it around here.” You pull out a lemon meringue pie.

“Oh my! Look at my little YN, bringing your old aunt treats!” Your aunt fawns over you all the time but every once in a while she even goes in for a cheek pinch, like right now.

“Hmm, I’m not five any more, I’m an adult.” You scrunch your nose, pouting, as if to disprove your point.

“But to me, you’ll always be my tiny baby.” She pats your cheek lovingly before making you sit down at the table.

In a flash, there’s a hot bowl of soup in front of you, steaming fried cheddar, some braised ribs and even a plate of dumplings. For a while you let your stomach think for you, inhaling food as your aunt happily watches you eat. You hadn’t really eaten much that day, possibly because subconsciously you knew your aunt would go full chef mode and feed you to no end.

“Well I suppose you didn’t come here only to see me. Is there some particular reason for your visit?” She asks you as you’re sipping on some soup. The hot broth warms you from the inside out. You gulp it down and reply.

“I did come to see you, but also for some tea. I’ve sort of run out recently.”

“Oh? That’s odd, you never used to drink it.” She says, clearly mulling it over in her head. After a split second a mischievous look appears on her face. “Don’t tell me, there’s someone drinking it with you?” Was she insinuating what you thought she was?

“What? No, well- yes, I hired a new medium but it’s not like how you’re trying to make it sound.”

“Aha, sure.” She hums, totally unconvinced. “So he’s the one that likes the tea?” She presses.

“Why do you assume the medium’s a guy?”

“Isn’t he? Female mediums are extremely rare. And male mediums are more durable because of their yang energy.”

“‘Durable’.” You scoff. “What are they, batteries?”

“Don’t change the subject. So that’s why you’re here. To take some tea for your new medium.” You look at her wide Cheshire grin, all that’s missing is a swinging tail.

“You must be bored out here, Aunty.” You retort. “I’ve never been interested in a medium and you know that. It’s unprofessional.”

“Pah! Unprofessional? My dear, do you think this is the corporate ladder or the government? Do you think your aunt has never dated one?” She pops a dumpling into her mouth and chews. “It’s easier to date someone in your own world, did you sister never tell you that? You don’t have to explain anything to anyone.”

You get quiet at the mention of your sister. Your aunt didn’t know much about her death and still adored Jeonghan as her favourite nephew-that-never-was. She didn’t even know about the fact that your sister’s ghost was still lingering around the house and office. You’d rather sink into the ground and stay there than ever be the one to tell her that.  

“You’ll understand one day. Ghosts are bad company and eventually the loneliness gets to you.” She continues off handedly. “But anyway, you didn’t have to hire a new medium, did you? You could have just worked with Jeonghan.” She bites on another dumpling.

You think you heard her wrong, the soup attempting to go in the wrong direction and you sputter a little as you choke.

“What?” You croak.

“Hmm?” She looks up and notices the way your face is etched with confusion. “You could have worked with Jeonghan, dear. He’s a medium too, did you forget?”

You felt the world sway around you. ‘Forget?’ This was new information to you. How the hell did you not know about this? Jeonghan was a medium? No way, he must have lied to her. But that’s too much of a lie even for him. You were left stunned, a whirlwind of thoughts swimming through your brain, clouding up what used to be clear waters.

Had your sister known? Why hadn’t she told you? Why hadn’t Jeonghan told you?

You snap out of it; this didn’t change anything. He had still lead your sister off a cliff with his stupid ideas and you weren’t going to let this get to you. It didn’t matter if he was a medium, he was still Jeonghan.

“Right. Well he wanted to work, so I couldn’t really turn him down.” You say, referring to Minghao, then let the conversation pause, trying to clear your head. As your aunt eats you notice the necklace around her neck hanging over her plate. She was wearing the carnelian crystal pendant, the one that matched your earrings and your sister’s ring. She feels you looking and peeks down at it. “You still wear it.”

“You can never be too careful, dear.” She says, taking a sip of soup next. “How is Jeonghan by the way? He came to see me a few weeks ago but he didn’t take any tea with him, remind me to give you a few boxes so you can give one to him.”

“He came here?” You ask, putting your spoon down, suddenly alert. You didn’t know that he and your aunt were still that close, then again you didn’t know a lot of stuff since the two of you hadn’t really spoken in the last couple of years.  

“Yes, he calls me every once in a while but also visits. Last time he bought me a box of macaroons, they were so delicious, I think he said they were from that bakery downtown, the one next to the post office?”

You knew it, it was close to where Jeonghan was living and working; you’d known that he opened up his own freelance practice and had heard his ridiculous prices per exorcism. Word on the street, well the Council gossip, was that he was working for rich clientele only and making a pretty penny off of them. He probably thought he was just shaking a money tree but how those ghosts had even come to be in the first place was kind of shady.  

“Yeah, I know it. Well, he seems fine, I guess.” You say carefully. You had a hunch it would break your aunt’s heart if a) she heard about how you and Jeonghan weren’t exactly best friends any more and b) if she ever found out he was to blame for your sister’s death. The only reason you’d kept your mouth shut was for her sake.

“Good, next time you should come together, you two are always coming at different times.” She scolds you lightly, if you could even call it that. “If you’re not busy, come for your sister’s death anniversary, it’s coming up soon.”

As if you could forget. It was three years next month. You don’t want to make a promise you can’t keep so you just make a hum of approval as you stand up and look for the pie. You bring it to the table, keen to start cutting it.

“Why did Jeonghan come anyway?” You try to make your question sound as casual as possible while you press a knife into the soft cream on top of the pie.  

“Just to see me, see how I am.” You aunt nods. “Ah, right. He also asked me if I knew anything about group exorcisms.”

The hand that’s holding the knife stops short at the crust.

A few weeks ago? That was before you’d looked over the archives in the office. What was Jeonghan doing asking about group exorcisms before he’d even know about the case? Unless Seokmin had told him to come to the site and investigate with them - you didn’t know whether he’d shown up to go scouting or if he’d just shown up at the office afterward.

You mentally curse your past self for not interrogating him further. They probably filled him in after you’d left if he hadn’t gone scouting. Fine, but why was he investigating ahead of you? Was he trying to hijack your case and prove you needed him? What the hell is even going on?

You realise you’ve been silent for too long.

“And? What did you tell him?” You ask as you place one piece of pie on a clean plate.

“What do you think I told him? I said I hadn’t done any during my career and that he should check the archives. Maybe even ask around if other exorcists know anything.”

“Right. Makes sense, besides, the first step would be identifying the ghosts as much as possible.” You say, testing the waters. For some reason you don’t want to tell your aunt that the group exorcism was your and Seungkwan’s case and that all Jeonghan was doing was butting in.

“Exactly, you need to know who you’re dealing with first.” Your aunt takes a bite of pie. She savours the taste and sighs appreciatively. “YN, that really hits the spot.” She praises. You smile despite your brain capacity overflowing.

“I’m glad. I’ll bring you pie whenever I come through.” You vow, taking a bite yourself. It’s sweet but with a tang of the lemon’s sourness, balanced with the sugary cream on top. It’s perfect.

You sleep on the couch, making use of the coziness of the living room while your aunt goes to her bedroom. The bungalow is small and quaint, homely and warm and if you had to move somewhere you’d probably like living here.

The morning comes all too quickly and you hurry to get on the road so you can go home and check your archives; you thought about it and it wasn’t adding up. There was something suspicious about Jeonghan asking around before you’d started working and you wanted to get to the bottom of it. You jump in the shower and speed up your routine.

By the time you get out and dress, you can hear the TV was turned on. When you exit the bathroom with a slight flush of steam behind you, you stop and listen. It’s the news. (You’d forgotten what it was like to actually listen to the news instead of read them).  

“…more information is coming in about the accident on metro line 3. A train car drove off the rails and crashed some time around six am today, disrupting morning commuters around the city. It is yet unclear what caused the accident, although witnesses stated there was power outage across the nearby stop shortly before the time of incident. As of now, there are no reported injuries as the car was found to be empty…”        

You stand there, unmoving. Could this be the work of the vengeful spirit you had yet to exorcise? A power outage and freak accident? It sounded likely if the cause was still not obvious.

“Dear, who’s Minghao and why has he called you three times in the past 2 minutes?” You aunt asks from the table where your phone is plugged in to charge at the closest socket.

“Huh?” You turn your attention away from the news report. “Why is he calling me so early?” You mutter and unplug your phone. Your phone starts vibrating as Minghao’s serial calling continues. You glance at your aunt’s curious face and she feigns ignorance, directing her attention to her plate of pie.

“Don’t mind me, hon, just answer the phone.” She says sweetly. You sigh and fight the urge to roll your eyes before swiping the answer button.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Took you long enough to answer.” You hear Minghao grumble on the other end. “Did you see the news? There’s a train car-”

“I just saw it. I know what you’re thinking but maybe it’s just a coincidence-” you start.

“Line 3 is right next to where we identified the spirit. It doesn’t sound like a coincidence.” He argues. “Where are you? Are you still at your aunt’s?”

“I’m just about to leave, but yeah. I’ll be back soon, then we can make a plan and dispatch him.”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting at the office. Did you move the spare key?” The question rings a bell in your head; you hadn’t moved it even though he’d reminded you that day when you were assembling bookcases.

“I forgot,” you lie. The truth was that you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. “It’s still under the camellia.”

“Alright, I’m hanging up.”

You stand still for a moment, mind buzzing. If line 3 really was that close then perhaps it was your vengeful spirit that had conjured up trouble. You had to send him off asap.

“Was that your new medium?” You aunt pipes up tentatively.

“Yes, and we have work to do. I have to go.” You say. You aunt nods, the action appearing a little sad.

“Be careful, dear. You know how dangerous it can be out there.” She reminds you.

“I know. I am.” You reassure her but it feels like an empty statement. Your aunt stands up and you hug her tight.

“You should visit your parents too. At least once. They’re not that far away. If you can drive here, you can drive there too.” Your aunt was entering nagging mode now. It was routine after she fed you that she felt the need to remind you to do all these things.

Your relationship with your parents was complicated. It had always been, but since your sister died, it had deteriorated dramatically so you avoided the topic all together.

“I’m busy, you know how it is.” You don’t give her leeway to respond. “Thank you for the meal, but I really have to go, Aunty.” You give her one last quick hug and leave as quickly as she’ll let you while she fusses over your bag, boots and coat.            

*

“What the hell are we going to do?” Minghao shakes his head. You’re sitting in the conference room, you, Minghao, Hoshi and Wonwoo. You’d only been expecting Minghao since he called you and was the medium on this case but you were greeted by a crutch-less Hoshi’s enthusiastic welcome as soon as you entered the office.

Wonwoo was tapping away furiously on his laptop, having shown up on his own about ten minutes ago. On your drive back from your aunt’s, you’d thought about calling him but figured he might be busy. Now, you were writing a list of things you could try on your new whiteboard, considering each option in turn.

Option 1 was to go to the same spot and attempt the exorcism in the car, although because of the accident, that area was swarming with rail staff members, engineers and even some of Wonwoo’s colleagues. In other words, there were too many civilians and they could either see something or be hurt.

Option 2 was to find a wider part of the tunnels, usually where there was an emergency exit and try to lure the ghost there while there was no trains. That meant a super limited time on the clock and could be extremely dangerous for you and Minghao.

Option 3 was to not exorcise the spirit today but wait for the smoke to clear and do the exorcism later. The downside of that was that once vengeful spirits got aggravated and starting to influence the environmental energies around them, the better at it they became and therefore cumulatively became more dangerous over time.

“What about trying to do the exorcism in a moving car?” Hoshi asks. “You could tell the passengers you were maintenance or something, empty the car and try to lure him there.”

“That’s too dangerous, we can’t do that. He might do something to a full, moving train.” You reply, still contemplating the three options you’d chalked up, well board marker-ed up.

“But you could easily kick Minghao’s ass-”  

“Hey!” Minghao protests, clearly the notion hurt his pride. “The train cars are too tiny to do an exorcism there.” He says. “And a moving train is too much; you’re not Keanu Reeves.” Minghao directs the comment at you. “And neither am I.” He sounds a little disappointed as he says it, sighing wistfully. You can’t help but run through your head anything in that Speed movie that might give you a clue; it involved a train scene after all, but you come up blank. Whatever, it was a dumb idea anyway.  

“I found the live updates of the amended train times.” Wonwoo says. He turns the laptop screen towards you. It’s a spreadsheet with coloured blocks that run parallel to a time line. “See this part?” He points to an empty block that stems from a row marked as ‘line 6’. You nod. “This is the longest break in any line without trains for today and it’s happening in two hours.”

“Where exactly is line 6?” Your brain is already getting ahead of itself; this could be the solution using option 2.

“It runs about half a mile parallel to line 3 then turns to the west side of the city. It’s not usually a very busy line but because of the accident it’s being put to use today.” He explains.

“Do you have the blueprints of the line?” You ask. You needed to see the structure before committing.

“Sure, hang on.” He taps away again and shows you the screen. “The tunnel dimensions are slightly wider here because line 6 is for the most part the one cargo trains use. Could that work?”

“How much wider?” You narrow your eyes at the blueprint.  

“About an extra meter each side. Actually, just over a meter, see?” He points to the tiny numbers written by each line.

You consider the idea carefully. If you could lure the ghost within that empty block of time and exorcise him then worse case scenario a train went past you while you stuck yourselves to the wall-

“Are you seriously thinking about just running on the tracks, YN?” Minghao snaps. “We could die!” You look at him, finding the near outrage on his face. You feel a little insulted that he thought you would just put the both of you in the face of death for no reason, but you cut him some slack since it was probably his self-preservation instinct talking.

You’re quiet for a moment, weighing up what you were about to say. Maybe he needed to hear it, although it might come off as harsh.

“Did I not warn you about this job?” You ask, your voice low and even. He sits speechless, staring at you. You hated to do this, especially because he was new but whilst the mission was dangerous, you were more than capable of doing this. “Yes, there’s a risk to our safety, but if we don’t finish this, there is a public safety risk. We’re a kind of civil servants, it’s our job to prioritise public safety. I know you know that, it’s why you called me this morning even if you didn’t think of it specifically, but you felt that intuitively - that we had to do something about it.”

There’s a heartbeat of stunned silence then he concedes.

“You’re right, it’s up to us.” Minghao nods, looking down, a little deflated. You didn’t blame him for thinking like that; if you took it out of context then it was batshit insane. Maybe a few years ago you yourself would have hesitated before even thinking about nearing the tracks as part of an exorcism, but you’d had enough experience and maturity as an exorcist to act in a way that was necessary to - in this industry, you had to respect the danger but you also had to grapple with it on a daily basis.

“Besides, who said anything about running?” You turn to Hoshi. “You still have that bike of yours, Hosh?”                

Before Hoshi can respond, Wonwoo’s phone buzzes loudly from its spot on the table. Your proximity allows you to read the caller ID, which shows Narc Dp T.Ldr Choi. A flash of worry strikes you that Wonwoo had to go back to work. He picks up by the third ring, clearly a habit of his from what you recalled when you phoned him.

“Yes, Seungcheol?” He asks. You glance back to your whiteboard, eyes scanning option 2 again. You couldn’t pull it off without Wonwoo. “Okay, I’ll come pick it up. Thanks.” Wonwoo hangs up quickly. “Listen you guys, I have to go get something but how about we meet at the stop that connects line 5 to line 6? You can drive down and I’ll join you.”

“Fine, I need to prepare a few things too.” You agree. “See you in a bit.”

*

You run through a checklist of things you need for the exorcism; you pick out two small boxes of incense and your lighter and shove them into the pockets of your jacket. It was a portable incense which resembled the shape of those extra large match boxes. You chose a shorter, bomber jacket instead of your usual long coat which reached your knees. You needed extra mobility today.

That being said, you strapped your gun to one thigh after you check it’s fully loaded and put another magazine in your pocket since you had no means for a salt cage today. Then you rummage around for a new blade; you needed a different one for vengeful spirits, something more heavyweight. You find the correct one which is a straight, perfectly balanced blade, its surface much wider than the usual pin-like blade you used. It took longer to burn too. This one also has a two inch hollow handle much more like a dagger and you curl the paper containing the ghost’s name in there.

You strap the blade to your other thigh. That should do it.

You grab a few crystals in a small velvet pouch to give to Wonwoo, since he’ll be on site again with you. At this point he may as well keep a bunch on him.

Outside you find Minghao and Hoshi trying to secure Hoshi’s bike to the back of your car.

From where you’re standing, it seems as if every single braincell between them is working at maximum capacity. You go over to check it’s truly safe since you really didn’t need to be shedding bicycles onto the road right now.

“How long have we got?” Minghao asks once the bike is strapped on. You check your phone.

“Under an hour, we should leave now if we want to be on time.” You confirm.

“Alrighty, let’s go!” Hoshi grins and makes to sit in the passenger seat of your car. You grab him by the hood  to stop him.

“Woah there, tiger. Who said you’re coming with?” You look at him inquisitively. Hoshi’s eyes are innocently wide. “You’re still on sick leave. Go home.” You tell him. He pouts and looks to Minghao for help. Judging by the way Minghao pats his shoulder, he was appealing to the totally wrong person.

“Go home, buddy. I got this.” He says. Hoshi shrinks, the way those carwash inflatable boys crumble without air. You feel bad but you needed to be as inconspicuous as possible today and move quickly, all which could only be done with less people.

When you get to the station, you call Wonwoo to find out where he was waiting for you. You’re overwhelmed by the amount of people you see milling around the building, since it was one of the larger stops instead of just an entrance to the metro and platform.

You thought about all these people; they were completely oblivious and were blind to what may loom ahead of them. They would never know about ghosts if they were lucky, only seeing their traces as accidents or coincidences. It was exactly these people that you had to protect. This was your duty, the consequence of your birth and the knowledge your ancestors had passed on to you.

You find Wonwoo at the only single platform in the station and he sits on one of those metal benches beside the staircase with his laptop open. Minghao was lagging behind, insisting that he could deal with the bike instead of you.

“Where is everyone?” You ask Wonwoo. He adjusts his glasses as he looks up at you.

“I hijacked the announcement system and cleared this platform so you can hop on the tracks.” He explains. “The next train is coming in approximately seven minutes, after that, you’ll have fifteen minutes before the next one passes.”

“Right, fifteen minutes. We shouldn’t go too far then.” You muse, calculating how far you could go with the bike whilst you used the incense to summon the ghost. You pull out the pouch of crystals and hold it out to Wonwoo. “Maybe I should get you a talisman for Christmas or something.”

Wonwoo chuckles quietly.

“Thanks. Actually, I got something for you guys too.” He pulls out a small box out of his backpack. He opens the lid and inside there’s a fitted piece of styrofoam and some tiny gadgets held in place. “These are ear pieces. I got them from the Narc department. I need to be able to talk to you at all times in case there’s a change in the timetable. There’s also no cameras in the tunnels so I can’t keep an eye on you, just so you know.”

You and Minghao each get one, Wonwoo explaining how to fit them properly into your ear and making sure the bluetooth signal is working. This is the most hi-tech thing you’d ever used for an exorcism so far, who knew your ancient profession was becoming so modern.

“There’s one slight problem.” You realise. “Minghao’s might malfunction when he gets possessed. Ghosts can mess with energies, wouldn’t that affect the bluetooth connection?”

“Probably, but as long as you have one, I can let you know what’s going on.”

You’re pretty much set and you wait for the last train to pass before you can start your mission. You’re already clutching your lighter and incense box in your hands, itching to light it up and get started. You hated the way your anticipation (or was it anxiety?) was building up.

You’d confirmed the plan with Minghao on how you were to proceed. He’d pedal while you rode on the back of the bike and held up the incense to attract the ghost. Then you’d just hope the spirit fell for it and came to find you in time. It felt like an incredibly reckless and almost silly plan, but sometimes desperate times did call for desperate measures. Your meticulous planning had to be reserved for more tame exorcisms.  

“I’m going to isolate us as soon as I can, that way your body won’t run off.” You tell him. He’s already paling but he accepts the reassurance.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s a good thing I won’t be conscious for this.” He mutters.

“Okay, the train is coming in like thirty seconds, get ready.” Wonwoo warns. The two of you walk to the edge of the platform, Minghao holding the bike’s handlebars to guide it and you with your incense.

You peer out into the tunnel and see the headlights in the distance. Next, you can feel the vibrations of the platform, the ground beneath you ever so slightly pulsing and you hear the crass rumble of the train as it zips over the rails and past you. You close your eyes to avoid the cloud of dust and dirt the speed of the train stirs up around you.

As soon as it’s gone, you flip your lighter open and light the incense while Minghao manoeuvres the bike down to the gravel around the tracks. It’s not a very deep drop, indeed there’s much deeper ones you’ve spotted around town but you still take care when following him down.

“Good luck, guys!” Wonwoo calls from the platform. You wave in acknowledgement and get on the bike behind Minghao.

The tunnel ahead is mostly dark with emergency green lights mounted on the ceiling every twenty or so metres. Your eyes take a while to adjust to the dimmed environment. You mentally berate yourself for not bringing a torch when Minghao pulls out his phone and holds it in one hand, the light casting in front so he could see where the bike wheel was making contact with the ground.  

The incense is starting to burn nicely and you hold it high above your head with one hand while the other grabs onto the back of the collar of Minghao’s jacket, your fingers barely brushing over the skin of his neck and where his hair touched his nape. You set off down the tunnel, picking up speed eventually despite the friction of the gravel underneath the wheels.

“I miss my motorcycle. Also what is this stuff we’re riding on?” You hear Minghao whine. “It’s like wadding through cement.”

“Less complaining, more pedalling.” You instruct. The incense is doing its job, burning steadily from its box. You’d picked an especially strong type that Joshua had warned you against using unless it was in an emergency. You figured this was as close to its purpose as you were going to get.

“Why don’t you try pedalling.” He mutters. It’s so quiet you almost miss it but even so, you can hear the pout in his voice. You have to resist the urge to smile, despite the situation.  

You get bored after a minute, you arm aching slightly.

“Here ghosty, ghost, ghost.” You call out suddenly, waving the incense side to side. As soon as the words leave your mouth, you remember that your were wearing ear pieces and Wonwoo could hear everything. You were too anxious and desperate to be embarrassed right now. You feel Minghao’s shoulders tense at your bizarre method of trying to get the spirit’s attention.

“I can’t wait to not be awake for this shit.” He states, pedalling a little harder.

You’re tracking the minutes on your watch, both your phone and Minghao’s having alarms set for ten minutes only so you could have a five minute warning if things were getting drawn out. You’ve been cycling for about four minutes now, and nothing.

“Stop, let’s turn around and double back for a bit.” You suggest. You were conscious of not getting too far away from the platform. Wonwoo had let you know there was no emergency exits for at least a kilometre and that your best bet was getting back in time even if you couldn’t exorcise the ghost.

You had entertained the idea of using the platform but the space really was too tiny and there were a lot of objects that could complicate things; the ghost could start throwing them around or levitating them and damage a lot that you couldn’t fix. Not to mention that anyone could still walk in despite Wonwoo’s announcement tampering.

You cycle back toward the platform for two minutes, going back like you said. Then you feel it.

There’s a cold breeze flowing through the tunnel that you hadn’t felt before. You squeeze Minghao’s collar, the action pulling his coat slightly as you lower your face to whisper in his ear.

“Did you feel that?” You ask. “I think it’s coming.”

He hums in response, slowing down a little. It had been silent so far, only the sound of the shifting gravel under the bike to accompany the two of you down the tunnel since Wonwoo was keeping quiet. Now the emergency overhead lights were buzzing, one flickering in the distance. You point to it without saying a word. Minghao gets the message and pedals harder again so you can get closer.

You wave around the incense a little more as you near the flickering light then extinguish it. You take note of the temperature here and it has unmistakably dropped, your breath starting to ever so slightly frost in front of you. That meant he was coming.

“Stop here. We can go on foot.” You pat Minghao on the shoulder.

“Okay.”

You come down from the bike and he props it against the wall as securely as possible, leaning so it doesn’t fall onto the tracks. It was facing the right direction too in case you had to really hurry up. You focus on the tunnel in front of you, your eyes straining to make out the ghost’s shape.

You can’t see him yet but you do spot the fog that’s emerging ahead, its slow creep along the tracks making the hairs on your arms stand on edge.            

You had about eight minutes left and you needed at least two of those to get back.

Make that six for the exorcism.

“He’s here.” You say, mostly to Wonwoo through the ear piece since you’re sure that Minghao can see the figure emerging from the shadows.

“Copy that.” Wonwoo responds.  

You can barely make out the ghost’s figure out as he glides towards you under the dim, green lights. The greyness of the fog is illuminated by the lights, giving it a more lively, but creepy hue.

“Give me your hand.” You instruct Minghao. He complies without complaint. You’d discussed the best way to keep his ring safe and that was if you were the one to take it. Your fingers feel for Minghao’s in the dark, searching for the ring blindly. You locate it just as the ghost nears you even more.

You risk a glance at your watch. It was now or die trying.

“Ready?” You ask. You hear Minghao gulp loudly in the shadows.

“Yes.” He whispers.  

And you begin, pulling the ring off of Minghao’s finger and stepping back as the spirit flew into his body and knocked him over. You pull your gun and start shooting around you to create a cube isolating you and the ghost. Each bullet pings off and a wall of energy crystallises around you.

These wouldn’t hold out for too long. The time the energy stayed in place had never been calculated like an exact science because each wall was different and each one collapsed at unpredictably. You sheath your gun and pull out the exorcist’s dagger.

Minghao was getting up, groggily and jerkily as if the ghost was getting used to having a body again after being transparent for so long. You see the light in his irises and note the possession was complete.

Then you don’t waste a second, lunging at him, blade forward and aiming for his chest. Minghao easily dodges your attack, looking at you wildly, clearly unsure of what to make of you. You try again, trying to force him against the wall of energy, knowing it will weaken the spirit if it came into contact with the crystallised panel. You don’t succeed when Minghao simply throws you off him, aided by supernatural strength and you land on the ground, using the momentum to roll to your feet.

All you had managed to do so far was annoy the spirit.

This time he lunged at you and you dodged, side stepping then aiming a kick at Minghao’s torso. The blow lands and you surprise him just for a moment. You think this is it, and stab forward. An arm swipes away at you and hits the side of your head, sending you flying against the wall. You huff as you slide down the wall, unable to keep your footing.

“YN?” You hear Wonwoo’s concerned voice in your ear.

“I’m fine.” You reply, getting up.

Time was ticking and you were getting desperate. Minghao’s body on the other hand hadn’t broken a sweat yet. You stormed him yet again, managing to land a couple of blows to the chest and torso, your fighting practice coming in to play finally, but Minghao’s body is seasoned to withstand petty attacks like that, his reflexes strong enough to operate even when his consciousness was overpowered.

He shoves you away yet again and you wait for another blow but it never comes. Instead you see him running away. How is he running away?

Shit.

The wall of energy had already given out on you.

You bolt after him, unaware of what direction you were headed in in the dark. This was a big problem but you pushed it away, prioritising finding Minghao and sending off the ghost. He’s not running that fast, the ghost’s attempted sprint coming off as clumsy since he’s not used to this body and you pick up your speed,  the series of morning jogs you’d been going on paying off.

You take out your gun and shoot past him, making him run straight into a crystal wall. He yells loudly, the sound echoing through the tunnel. You skid to a stop and shoot a couple of times behind you, sealing you in again. This time all you created a double pane on each end.

And off you go again, kicks, punches and blocks when Minghao’s body responded to the physicality. You’re cursing the ghost so hard in your head, angry at how much of a fight he was putting up but then again this was a vengeful spirit.

Then again by his very nature, this ghost was seething, furious at whatever had wronged him in his life, but also wanting to find some kind of solace in being trapped in this form. These were the most pitiful types of ghosts, their anguish running deeply.

Minghao yelled again, the energy of the scream and the kick it was accompanied by hurling you against the tunnel wall, your body splatting against the concrete surface with a loud cry of pain. You swear you felt your spine shudder and you fall to the ground. It had knocked the wind out of you, making you see stars for a split second as you coughed out excess spit.

While you were on the ground you felt a weird floating sensation. As if the ground beneath you was-

No, it was definitely doing that.

The ground was vibrating.

You must have missed the sound of your alarms going off.

The lightning strike of panic - crackling, palpable, fear - that you could taste, wracks through your body and you whip your head around at each side of the tunnel. The train was coming from the left which meant you’d ran further away from the platform.

You were completely, totally, utterly, royally, abysmally fucked.

In that moment your entire body was flooded with regret. Regret that you’d tried to do this exorcism, your arrogance colouring you ashamed. Regret that you weren’t stronger and you’d let the ghost run. Regret that you’d ever let Minghao join this ridiculous industry. Regret that you were going to be the reason that he died in the next minute, far too young and not even aware of what was happening.  

Minghao’s body was banging his fist against one of the crystallised walls, each hit followed by an angry ‘arrgh’ when the salt stung him. The train was coming in front of him but the ghost was clearly not understanding the situation.

You decided in the span of several milliseconds that you weren’t done yet. You weren’t going to die.

Not like this.

Adrenalin seized your whole being and you mustered every ounce of energy you had, running towards Minghao and pushing him against the nearest wall, managing to catch him completely off guard, bringing the blade home and squeezing the two of you as close to the concrete as you could physically muster.

“Go peacefully.” You breathed, bracing yourself for whatever happened next, your body overlapping with Minghao’s. You’re vaguely aware the blade starts to burn away as you hold your fist to his chest, your face pushed again his shoulder.

Then the train thunders past you, its sonic boom rattling every single one of the 206 bones in your body and you’re not sure if you’re screaming since you cannot hear another sound except the train.

The blade is burning away, your body getting rigid, and your brain cannot even register what is going on.

The vengeful spirit’s dying memory grips your being and you relive the moment that the body makes contact with the train. You’ve never felt anything like this; it’s an out of body experience as pain, searing white agony shoots through you and you wish you were dead.

That’s just the thing.

That was the dying moment of the ghost. The last thing this man knew on this earth.

He did die.

But you didn’t. You just lived through it.

The most harrowing experience of your entire life.  

You’re screaming and crying and wheezing and wailing and howling and chocking and coughing into Minghao’s chest as you come to, faintly aware that he’s clutching your frame in his arms as tightly as you’re clinging onto him. He puts a hand over the back of your head, steadying you a little as he rubs your back with his other hand, trying to calm you down as you shake, your head empty.

“Shh, you’re alive. We’re alive, it’s okay.” You vaguely hear Minghao murmur. His voice is vibrating through his chest and you feel it against your cheek. You can hear his heartbeat, the quick but steady thump comforting you as you calm down.

Your ears are ringing and popping and every sound is just a little muffled as you struggle to adjust to reality again.

You’re not sure how to talk yet so once you let Minghao let you go, you just point in the direction you need to go in. He nods and takes your hand, making sure you follow him. Your legs feel like jelly but you manage to walk. You find Hoshi’s bike and Minghao helps you get on.

Your body slumps over his back and he pedals you back to the platform where you hear Wonwoo shouting something and Minghao shouts back in response. You don’t know what happened, all of it is still just noise to you.

You get down from the bike, swaying slightly and step to the edge of the platform. You look up and see Wonwoo is grabbing towards you, trying to get you to take his hand. You do and he hauls you up. You don’t make it to your feet and just sit on the floor, blank.

The guys get the bike up between the two of them and then Minghao hops up onto the platform. He explains something to Wonwoo, who looks like he’s been through several stages of grief already.

“I’m sure the train went past us, but I was still unconscious. YN was awake the whole time.” You hear.

“YN?” You see Wonwoo crouch in your field of vision, worry etched into his face. Your senses are slowly recovering and you feel your ear is empty. The gadget must have fallen out at some point. It was probably an expensive piece of equipment.  

“Sorry.” You mutter as you think it, dazed and not realising that Wonwoo has no idea what you’re talking about. You make to get up and he grabs one of your arms while Minghao’s hands find your other arm.

Right, Minghao.

You reach and unzip your pocket, pulling out something. You unfurl your fist and hold it out to Minghao, his ring resting in your palm. He takes it but doesn’t let go of your arm. You feel a cough shake your body.

You’re starting to hear and see and feel and become aware again. There’s a call of your name originating from somewhere and footsteps coming nearer. You turn around as if you’re stuck to an axis and focus.

Jeonghan is barrelling towards you.

Your forehead scrunches in confusion. What was he doing here? You hadn’t told him you were doing anything.

“I freaked out when I couldn’t get in touch with you so I called Jeonghan.” Wonwoo explains sheepishly.

“What’s with Jeonghan being everyone’s emergency contact.” You attempt to croak, your mouth extremely dry and jaw heavy.

“YN!” He calls again as he reaches you. “Are you okay?” He grabs your shoulders and inspects your face, looking for signs of, well you weren’t sure.

There’s not much brain activity taking place in your head but you do put together a recent conversation about Jeonghan. It was yesterday. That feels like ten years ago right now. Your aunt had told you Jeonghan was a medium. You stare at him, as if you’d be able to tell just by looking at him if that was the truth.

He seems satisfied there’s nothing physically wrong with you, though your back would beg to differ. You probably had bruises and maybe even a cracked rib, who knew.

“What are you looking at?” Jeonghan asks, suddenly alert. “You missed me or something?”

“As fucking if!” You snap reflexively.

“Ah, so you’re okay.” He says, relaxing. He lets you go but you don’t look away, scanning him for talismans. The obsidian ring is on his finger like always but you notice a chain that you’re not sure you’d ever taken note of before dangling around his neck. What was on it? Was it perhaps a set? Did your sister give it to him?

“You look like you’re about to keel over, let’s get you home.” Wonwoo interrupts your staring contest with Jeonghan’s jewellery. You don’t argue with that suggestion, making a noise of approval before letting Minghao steer you in the right direction.

*    

It takes you a couple of days to feel semi-normal again. It had been a tough time however, from the constant hand tremors to the insomnia induced by the random dreams you kept having every time you fell asleep. Even a nap was taxing because you ended up receiving unwanted memories from the ghost man’s life. You’d taken to checking the stock market every hour, like clockwork, looking at the squiggly lines on a graph and not understanding a damn thing but knowing if it was good or bad somewhere deep in your gut.

You drank coffee like it was water from the fountain of youth, your body buzzing like a bumblebee as you became a jittery mess, jumping at the slightest noise, usually Minghao or Hoshi coming through the kitchen door behind you.

You’d realised that it was obviously just after affects of the exorcism, but these were much stronger and more consistent than you’d ever had before. Maybe because it was the first vengeful spirit that you’d ever exorcised. All other ghosts paled in comparison.

Minghao, Jeonghan and Hoshi took turns checking up on you and for once you didn’t complain that Jeonghan was hanging around the house. You wanted to keep an eye on Jeonghan anyway because of what your aunt had told you yet much to your dismay he didn’t do a single suspicious thing, which you found was in itself suspicious.

The three of them all did things in their own way, Minghao dropping by between classes and making sure you ate by cooking something with the ingredients that Jeonghan had stocked up in your fridge, and Hoshi making sure you did stuff other than glaring at the money graph and swearing at every tiny dip.

It was already late evening the fourth day when you’re driving back to the office after you’d convinced Minghao you were feeling up to a scouting mission for one of your next projects. He’d driven on the way there, but you insisted that you had accumulated enough hours of sleep to be safe to drive. He was reluctant to give up his place in the driver’s seat but he eventually did and with surprisingly not that much scepticism and side-eyeing.

“We’re going to need to do another preliminary scout for this one, I really didn’t like that old lady’s basement; something stinks and it’s not the mould.” You tell him as you make a right turn. Minghao nods.

“I know, there was something super intensely hostile about the way those cats stared at me when we went down the stairs.” You see him shudder in your peripheral vision.

“Agreed.” You sigh. “Right, am I driving you home?” You ask.

“No, it’s okay, just drop me off at the studio.” He replies.

“It’s really fine, I can drive you. See?” You pause, hands steady on the wheel. “No more hand tremors.” You smile proudly. It was probably because you’d stopped chugging coffee after Jeonghan stole- no, ‘temporarily misplaced’- your jar of powder Columbian medium roast two days ago. You’d suffered the withdrawal symptoms and had overcome the urge to run to the nearest cafe, so you thought you were doing quite alright.

“Aha, no, just drop me at the studio. I wasn’t going home now anyways.” Minghao insists a little too hard. You glance at him and see his lips are pursed and he’s looking anywhere but even vaguely in your direction. There was something shifty about his demeanour but you decided to ignore it for now.

“Okay, studio it is.” You concede. It’s not like you knew where Minghao’s apartment was anyway - from one secretive person to another, he’d never made the effort to tell you and you’d never tried prying. Regardless, you were much more comfortable with him these days, the two of you getting used to each other’s presence and habits and being much friendlier too.

You say goodnight and watch him grappling with the militia of locks on the door. You decide something isn’t right from the way he grins and waves at you before he walks in. There was something unsettling about him being this smiley after a long day of work. So you do what any other concerned boss/ colleague/ friend would do in the situation:

You drive around the block and return to spy on him.

Hmm, not exactly spy, that’s a harsh word, more like check up on him to see if he’s okay.

You park in non-towing zone (you re-read the sign three times to be sure) and sit in a restaurant on the main street that has a perfect view of the studio, waiting to see if he leaves. You do end up ordering some dinner, something tiny and simple just so you don’t seem like you’re on a stakeout instead of eating.

Except, you have to make that plate last an hour because Minghao is not going anywhere. Did you miss him leaving? Unlikely since you’d have definitely heard the roar of his motorcycle. Unless he was walking and had slipped through without you noticing. You see it’s almost closing time in the diner you’re sitting in and pay your bill, being one of the last customers to leave.

You feel almost silly as you cross the street and creep up on the studio slowly. There’s no window on this side of the street so you duck into the side alley and discover Minghao’s motorcycle is in its usual place. That’s suspicious.

He hadn’t left yet.

You walk a few steps further and find a window that shows one of the big sparring areas. The lights are still on and you take a good look around. There’s some punching bags attached to one area in the far corner of the room, a massive mat in the centre of the room presumably where classes are held and a pile of the same style blue mats in the closer corner.

Except there’s a bunch of bedding on it, a pillow and a stack of blankets from what you can make out. The door to the side opens and Minghao walks through, a towel over one shoulder. He’s wearing a thick jumper and some sweatpants. You’re glued to the window, completely astounded.

Was he sleeping in his studio?

Is that why he didn’t want you to drive him home?

You’re lost in thought so you don’t see exactly when Minghao notices you and jumps out of his skin at the figure at his window. You do notice when he starts to take those ominous and rapid gazelle strides of his and you almost trip over your own feet jumping back. He yanks the window open, eyes wide and startled.

“YN?” He asks. “What are you doing here? I thought you went home?”

“Uh,” you say dumbly. “I could say the same!” You deflect the question back at him. Minghao considers it for a moment and nods.

“Fair enough, come in, it’s cold outside.” He gestures to the front door and you agree to go around.

Once you’re inside, you follow him down the hallway. You take note of several stray cardboard boxes that are dotted around the building’s foyer, the type that most people used for moving and it more or less confirmed what you were starting to think.

“Now, please enlighten me as to why you were peeping at my window?” He asks when you enter the small office attached to the room you were looking into before. You sit in one of the empty chairs opposite the desk while he occupies the one behind it.

“You make it sound like I was trying to be creepy. I was checking if you were in there.” You shrug. “And anyway, you’re not seriously going to sleep in your studio are you? What’s going on?” You press. He looks as if he’s contemplating whether to tell you the truth or not. He resolves on something but you’re not sure exactly what.

“Remember when I told you that I was getting less and less students?”

“Yeah, I mean how could I forget the Minghao Midday Special that took place in my car.” You resist the flashbacks that threaten to wash over you. Minghao looks mildly offended as he pouts at your comment. You almost laugh at the expression then remember this is supposed to be serious.  

“You know I was experiencing after effects that day, cut me some slack for fu-”

“Alright, alright, yes. You were saying?” You get your conversation back on track.

“Well, I found out the reason why so many students were leaving. There’s a new studio closer to some of the schools in town and they have more funding and advertise and what not near there and parents are keener to send their kids over there since they don’t have to make the trip. Basically I’m not making enough money and one thing led to another and I moved out of my apartment.”

It’s what you suspected but hearing it for real makes your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“So you’re living here now? For how long?”

“It’s been a couple of weeks already.”

“You’re kidding right?” You ask rhetorically. “Minghao, you know I have a spare room, all you had to do was ask. C’mon, you’re not staying here another night. It’s winter and there’s no goddamn heating.” You get up, ready to fight him if he refuses.

“I’m really fine, it’s actually not that bad-”

“I don’t care, I’m not leaving you here to freeze. Get your shit, we’re going.” You conclude, giving him no space to argue as you walk out the door to go get the car.

Clearly you got through to him because when you wait outside the studio, he appears with a duffel bag and gets in the car with no more protests.

When you get back home, the two of you take some of the boxes from your sister’s room and put them in the living room. You’ll deal with all of them properly tomorrow since it was late now. Once you’re done, you start to brew some tea.

“Second drawer down.” You say to Minghao when he comes through to the kitchen, gesturing to the far wall.

“Huh? What?” He asks but goes to your new bookcase wall, one of which had three drawers on the bottom half. He slides it open and finds the box of tiny tea light candles that you’d bought from IKEA. “This it?”

“Yeah.” You say from where the stove is. “For the vibes,” you repeat back to him when you bring the tea to the table. Minghao chuckles as you as pull out the lighter from your pocket and hand it to him so he can light the candles.

You sit for a moment, sipping the tea.

“Thank you.” He says suddenly. You know he’s not talking about the tea. “You didn’t have to do this but thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. That’s what friends are for.” You say. You don’t say anything more, because you know you don’t need to. You knew he’d do the same for you.

Friends.

You’d really come so far to think of him as friend. Sure you worked together and that was that, but you spent a considerable amount of time together and it was hard not to become familiar with each other through that.

You thought that Minghao was easy to get along with; it was easy to fall into step with each other and you shared enough similar qualities so that you had your own harmony. Besides, you lived alone and it might be nice to have someone around again, you just hoped that your sister’s ghost wouldn’t freak him out or anything.

*

As planned, the next day you begin to sort through all the boxes in the spare room and see if you can store things more efficiently. You had space beside your laundry machine, the room doubling as more storage so you could potentially put some stuff there and then buy some new furniture since you’d had to get rid of the old pieces. Like most things in this house, they were ancient, worn and beyond repair once they finally gave out.

After your sister’s death, it had been one of the only things you’d done to the room other than pack things up into boxes. There was no point in all her things gathering dust, you may as well preserve them. Deep down you’d mostly done it so you didn’t have to look at it all and you kept the door closed.

Maybe it was a good thing for Minghao to move in and live there - you would stop thinking of it as only the place that your sister had used once before. Now it would be your friend’s room too.

“What’s all this stuff?” Minghao asks behind you. You were looking through a box of clothes to make sure they weren’t getting mouldy. You swivel your head and focus on what he’s talking about.

Behind a stack of boxes is a bunch of canvases covered by old table cloths. As far as you remembered all the canvases were blank, ready to be painted on, an unexpected hobby your sister might have been trying to pick up but never really pursued properly.

“Uncover them.” You tell him so he can see for himself. With careful hands, Minghao makes sure that there’s minimum dust flying around as he removes the cloths. You stop what you’re doing to watch him.

His face lights up when he sees the canvases, much to your surprise. He’s actually smiling. You hadn’t really seen this side of Minghao before. This bright eyed, excited, child-like side. You find yourself wanting to smile too.

“Do you paint?” You ask him. He hums in response.

“A little, it’s just something for fun.” He explains. You nod, mostly to yourself since he hasn’t stopped staring at the canvases.

“They’re yours to use if you want them. They’ve been sitting there for years, you may as well paint on them.” You say. This seems to snap Minghao out of his trance.

“Really?” He asks, dubious. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you sit down from your crouch. “My sister would want someone else to enjoy them even if she couldn’t, y’know. She was really generous, always putting others before herself.” You find yourself reminiscing for a moment.

“She sounds nice, I bet she was really kind.” He says, sitting down too.

“She was. She looked after me a lot, practically raised me. Always made sure I ate more, I was getting to school even if she was late. My grandparents passed away sort of early, so it was just me, my sister and my aunt for a long time, but my aunt had to work so my sister was basically my mom too.”

“That can happen, older siblings have a lot of responsibility, don’t they.”

“I guess, and younger siblings don’t really know what to do until they grow up and realise how much they’ve been looked after and loved. And then it’s too late.” You purse your lips. “Sorry, we were doing something, let’s keep going.”

“No, it’s okay. I like hearing about your sister. I wish I could have met her properly.” He replies earnestly.

“Thank you, I think she would have liked that too. Actually, I was kind of worried that her ghost might make you uncomfortable, she doesn’t show up much, not any more at least. Just keep your ring on.” You tell him apologetically.

“Not at all, I’m not going to be here for long anyway, don’t worry about it.” He looks like he wants to say something more.

“Go on.” You jerk your chin, encouraging him to speak.

“I was just wondering, is there a reason that she’s still here?”

“You mean, have I ever tried exorcising her?” You ask crudely, knowing he was trying to be polite and not offend you. “I have. I tried with Hoshi, then Seokmin and even Vernon but she wouldn’t possess them. She just kind of stood there. My guess is that she’s attached to the house or waiting for something but I can’t figure out what it might be.” You felt guilty, that was the truth, that you couldn’t send her off to rest in peace, but every lead you’d tried to follow led to a dead end.

“I could try it. If you wanted.” Minghao offers. You look at him and see the sincerity in his eyes. You’re a little touched by the gesture, as well as him listening to you talk about your sister. You hadn’t really spoken to anyone about her for all this time, usually avoiding the topic and keeping it to yourself.

“Maybe one day.” You say, getting up. “Now, where were we?” You take a look around the room and resume your clearing.

Amongst the piles of things you find a half empty box containing a smaller, old wooden box, one that you could guess originated from a century ago. You pick it up and unhook the metal clasp to open it. You’re shocked to find the contents of the box.

Inside, nestled in a purple velvet cloth, is what you can only describe as a vintage revolver. It must be decades old, one of the family heirlooms you’d only ever heard about but never actually seen in the flesh. You wonder why your sister had it. Was this a box your aunt had packed? Why had you never seen it? Why was the cardboard box only half full?

“What’s that?” Minghao peers over your shoulder as you look upon the gun.

“It’s a family heirloom. Many exorcist families have certain items that they pass on from generation to generation. This is one of ours. Its barrel only supports six bullets so it can only be used by the most skilled and elite exorcists. I wonder if my sister ever used it.” You say popping it back into its casing. You’d have to call your aunt and ask her what to do with it.

“Ah, got it. Seems cool. You should try it sometime.” He says casually, getting back to his own box.

You stop short, was that supposed to be a compliment?

You weren’t an elite though, you were so far from it, yet the idea that you could potentially become one tugged on your heart. It was ironic since you were never ambitious like your sister - she had always wanted to be great at her job, to make a mark on the family history, but you were just there since you had no choice.

Regardless of the intention of the comment, you allow yourself a tiny smile until you turn around and see the open box in front of Minghao. You see the beach towels and the bright green and yellow fabric of your kite, its shape crumbled and you would guess, broken. You face drops into a frown.

“Hey, YN, what should I do wi-” Minghao turns to look at you and stops abruptly when he sees your expression.

“Just leave it in the utility room.” You say.

Who knows, maybe when summer came, you’d use those again.                      

*

A/N: *gasp* and they were roommates! lol thanks for reading!! feedback is always appreciated <3 

*copyright 2021-  © momobani

#seventeen #xu minghao #the8 #minghao #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #minghao x reader #the8 x reader #the8 imagines #the8 scenarios #seventeen fics #momobani.writes

[norabrice1701]

The Duke & The Witch - Ch. 2

Charles Brandon x Fem!OC, A The Tudors Slight-AU fic

Series Main List

Ch. 2 Warnings: Fire burn injuries; kinda-stalker Charles; weaponized aphrodisiac; discussion of witchcraft; period-typical attitudes towards everything (women, religion, witchcraft, etc.)

A/N: Thank you all for the notes, reblogs and likes! The Tudors is such an old show, but such a goodie and Charles is just yummy, so I'm glad there are still some folks reading fics for this fandom 😊❤

Dawn the following morning finds Charles on the road to St. Edmunds. Ever since the flour mill report reached him last week, he’s been remiss about paying a visit. But perhaps he was a little too eager to set out on his journey given the look of concern that haunted Joseph’s face during breakfast. 

Unfortunately, the business of the flour mill has nothing to do with the witch. Last week’s courier brought the breathless news of a devastating fire, a sudden explosion that left at least one dead - a young boy - and the miller was likely to follow due to his extensive injuries. In that moment, Charles had done the only thing within his power - order missives sent to the other villages to support flour trade with St. Edmunds.

But now, he intends to survey the flour mill damage and pay his respects for the fallen. As he rides towards the small village, he prepares to hear that the miller has also perished. Once he does, missives will need to be sent to the other duchy villages to inquire about millers’ assistants capable of rebuilding and taking over operations. 

It doesn’t promise to be the most uplifting of days, but after talking with Joseph last night, he hopes to find a silver lining. If people in St. Edmunds have tried to follow this witch when she appears, then he intends to learn more. Perhaps she even lives nearby and he can debunk the rumors once and for all. 

He slows his horse, approaching the first outcropping of crude dwellings. They bear signs announcing the butcher, the tanner and other unpleasant trades that are unwelcome in village centers - and by all counts, St. Edmunds is still worthy of being called a village. It hasn’t prospered in commerce like Ipswich, nor in industry like Lowestoft. In fact, Charles doesn’t think he’s ever been to St. Edmunds before. 

The rough road turns in towards the abbey that stands prominently at the center of the village commons, a visible landmark to everyone in the countryside. Passing commoners glance up at him, faces falling as they recognize the mark of his station and offering immediate murmurs of his address. It’s a routine sight everywhere Charles goes in his duchy, and he offers the occasional nod as he rides through the village. 

“My lord, Your Grace!” An elderly, but surprisingly nimble man rushes towards him. “I am Elder Gideon, and can speak for this village. Forgive us, Your Grace… we were not expecting your visit today.”

Charles slows his horse. “I did not announce my intent to visit, so I do not expect you to have prepared.”

“On a future visit, Your Grace,” Gideon says, relaxing in visible relief. “We will honor your arrival with all due fanfare.”

In truth, that’s the last thing Charles wants. He glances out over the collection of structures and shacks, and the various lanes that weave between them. “I would like to visit the flour mill, and learn of the miller’s health.”

“The flour mill? Yes, yes – of course.” Gideon turns with obvious reluctance, motioning down one of the lanes. “Please allow me to show you.”

Charles nods and motions his horse forward as Gideon walks alongside him. He glances out at the village commons, drawing a breath. “Tell me what you know of the witch in the woods.”

“Your Grace?” Gideon arches a brow, turning a curious stare up at him. “The witch in the woods?”

“I will not repeat myself.”

“Yes, yes… she. Well, she comes out of the woods when we’re at our most desperate, it seems. When the flour mill burst into flame – such a noise, I’ve never heard – and the miller was so badly burned. We’ve not enough coins for any physician, and the miller’s wife was beside herself. Well, the witch came the very next morning.”

“The next morning?” Charles’ face wrinkles with confusion. That doesn’t make sense - if she does indeed live in the woods, then how did the news reach her so speedily?

“First thing, sunrise – yes, Your Grace. Wearing the same hooded cloak that she always has. The miller’s wife almost didn’t let her into the house for fear of accepting the Devil’s help, but she was so distraught.”

“Hooded and cloaked, you say,” Charles muses, noting the correlation to what Joseph had previously said. “Does anyone know what she looks like?”

“She doesn’t let us see her face and no one has dared to ask.”

“Have you heard her speak?”

“I have no desire to hear her Devil’s tongue, Your Grace.”

“And yet you willingly accept her help? Does that not strike you as hypocritical?”

Gideon sniffs indignantly. “I do not ask her to use her Devil craft to help us, but it is… hard to deny help when it is freely given.”

“But is it truly given freely?” Charles asks, glancing down at the elder. “What if she comes to the village one day to collect payment for services rendered? A culling of souls for the Devil’s satisfaction, perhaps?” The corner of Charles’ mouth wants to tick up, amused with his own teasing. Especially as he watches Gideon pale and swallow thickly.

“If that day comes, Your Grace, then may God have mercy on our souls.”

Charles restrains his chuckle, unable to hold in his smirk any longer. It probably shouldn’t make him laugh – for it could be entirely possible. If she is indeed a servant of the Devil, then who’s to say that she couldn’t claim souls for the Devil’s domain?

The sight of the burned-out husk of the flour mill kills his lingering amusement. Charred remains in various states of collapse and destruction litter the ground, and it’s impossible to discern anything about the shape or size of the structure that had stood here. It must have been quite the blaze, indeed.

Gideon sighs somberly. “A truly sad sight. We thought ourselves doomed until we heard the news of Your Grace’s swift actions to boost flour trade from other villages.”

Charles steps down from his horse. “The mill just burst into flames, you said?”

“Yes, Your Grace. Just a sudden… cloud of fire.”

Charles stares at the burned remains, intrigued. How does a flour mill just explode? He didn’t even know that flour could burn. He looks at the crude cottage that stands nearby the remains of the mill. “And the miller?”

Gideon nods towards the cottage. “He was pulled from the flames and the smoke, taken to his home – just there.”

“And he still lives?”

Gideon nods again. “I have not heard otherwise.”

Charles pulls off a glove, walking towards the cottage and raising his voice. “Miller and his wife! Stand present for the Duke of Suffolk.”

A couple of idling villagers in the lane freeze on his loud call, but he pays them no mind as he focuses on the cottage. At length, the door opens and a short, surprisingly handsome woman appears. 

She looks out at Charles with wide, nervous eyes. “M-my lord?” She drops to a shaky curtsy before wringing her hands uneasily. “To what do… what can we do for you?”

“The miller.” Charles answers, moving to stand closer. “I wish to see him. I understand that he was badly burned and subsequently visited by the witch in the woods.”

The wife puts her hands together in the appearance of a pleading prayer. “Please, sir. Please – I only done what I had to. I wasn’t strong enough to resist her help. He – me husband – was dying and I couldn’t-” Her words cut off in a hiccupping sob. “I… I don’t want any more unholiness brought into our home.”

A flash of audacity sparks in his gaze as he tilts his head. “If you’re accusing me of unholiness, in league with the witch – then you would be wise to hold your tongue.”

“No, no…,” her eyes widen in sudden panic, supplicating her posture. “I meant no disrespect to you, sir. I just… I fear for our souls after accepting her help. Letting her into our home… after she killed that black bird with light from a storm! A-and she made that soup… and, I still - please, milord, can you offer redemption?”

Charles resists an irritated sigh. “No – only a priest can grant you that. I have merely come to see your husband.”

“He is abed, sir. He’s not able to stand.”

“Then, kindly move aside and let me pass.”

“No, sir – my Lord, please…” she withers under Charles’ stare as he approaches, but eventually steps aside, her shoulders shrinking. “Yes, sir.”

He squints in the dusty dimness of the cottage, struck by its barren state and meager furnishings. A pallet lays in one corner, poorly outfitted with bedcovers and bearing the lumpy shape of a man. He nears the rough bed, bracing against the pungent stench in the air as he crouches down.

The wife bustles around him to her husband’s side. “The witch, you see,” she says softly. “She came in here and put this mud on him. It didn’t smell like this when it was wet. Then, she put all them flat leaves over it.”

True enough, it proves an odd sight. The shape of a man covered in a thick mud paste and blanketed in a coating of leaves. Charles reaches his gloved hand out and pries up the edge of a leaf, looking closer at the dark substance on the man’s skin.

He tilts his head in curious study. “How long does it need to be left on his skin?”

The wife blinks owlishly. “I don’t know, sir. She didn’t say anything.”

Charles doesn’t possess too much medical knowledge, but he recalls what he’s overheard battlefield physicians say. “Best not to leave it for too long. Lest it stick to his healing skin.”

“I-I” the woman hiccups with uncertainty. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

“He’s already hurt.” Charles says, standing to his full height. “You won’t be able to damage him further. But tell me – was he awake when she applied the mud to him?”

“No, sir – but he did wake up sometime later. Quite confused, he was, at what he was covered in.”

“Has he left this bed since then?”

“He jumped up when he awoke, startled as he was. Ran through that door to the street before he collapsed again.”

Charles almost can’t believe it. The passage of days between the explosion and his visit to Ipswich yesterday would have given the story ample time to spread through his duchy. Time to spread and time to grow into the fanciful mudman spectacle that the swordsmith’s apprentice had raved about. 

He turns from the miller’s bed, moving through the dwelling and back out into the dusty lane. The gentle breeze washes a refreshing wave over him, even if it does smell of horse.

The soft sound of the wife’s footsteps follow him before she speaks. “What of him, sir? Will he live? Are we damned to hell?”

“I have no answers to give you,” he says, shaking his head. “But the fact that your husband still lives is rather humbling.”

“It’s the Devil’s work, sir. Surely!” She shakes her head, tears flowing. “I knew I shouldn’t have done it!”

He pulls his other glove back on, ignoring the woman behind him. Humbling, indeed. It isn’t a witch’s crafted man of mud that walks the village's streets, but the witch’s mud mixture has likely saved the miller from death. Or at least, postponed it. Perhaps she can’t turn a dog into a man with wolfsbane stew or play with ravens and lightning, but this woman does possess a mighty knowledge. Or is it even a woman? Could it just be a disgraced physician?

His mind churns with the questions and possibilities. If he could only just speak with this witch and assess for himself. Is it really the work of the Devil that needs to be routed out of his duchy? Or are her services able to be employed for better use?

What was it Gideon had said about how soon the witch arrived after the flour mill explosion? The very next morning?

He walks back to his horse, formulating a plan. 

***

Two days of waiting now and nothing. Either he has seriously misjudged the witch’s ability to receive news in a timely manner, or the severity of the rumor isn’t strong enough to draw her out. Admittedly, neither explanation pleases him. If she doesn’t show within the next day, Charles will have to forgo this attempt and return at a later date.

And to think he’d been so sure when he visited the butcher.

“Your Grace?” The butcher stared back at him incredulously.

Charles nodded again at the purse of coins that rested on the worktable. “I said that I want you to spread talk in the village of an innocent accident. An apprentice who lost some fingers at the chopping block. A young boy trampled by draft animals from a game cart. But it needs to be severe.”

The butcher stared back at Charles as if Charles had gone insane. Maybe he had. At long last, the man agreed and hefted the bag of coins. The money jingled and Charles secured the man’s further promise that he could carry out the task without delay. For surely, if news of another severe injury spread through the village, the witch was sure to appear.

After leaving the butcher’s, Charles had returned to Westhorpe just long enough to gather some supplies for the field and two of his men. The three returned to St. Edmunds before sunset and took up a well-concealed post just on the village outskirts that boarded the surrounding woods. When the witch arrived, they would be ready.

Except now, his men are likely starting to agree with the butcher. And maybe they aren’t wrong. Maybe Charles has finally lost his mind. Finally so overcome with loss and grief that he’s fixated on smoke and magic to dull the pain.

He tilts his head back against the rough wall of the shed, sighing as his eyes drop closed.

“Sir - Your Grace!” One of his guards hisses. “I-I don’t believe it!” 

Charles crawls forward, breath quickening with anticipation as he peers out the gap between two wooden boards. A hooded and cloaked figure emerges from the thicket of trees, the dark robe splashed with the brilliant red and oranges of sunset. The witch appears as a phantom spectacle - so dark against the light - and Charles has to blink twice to confirm that his mind isn’t just conjuring the image. But ast the dark figure steadily approaches the village, he can’t believe his luck.  

“Come on, men.” He whispers, working stiff muscles. “Quietly now.” 

The wood cutter’s shed door opens with a louder creak than Charles would have liked, but he keeps his gaze focused on the wraith-like figure as it draws ever closer. True to the rumors, there isn’t a single part of the witch visible beneath the cloak. Not even a glimpse of footwear or hands, and it increases his curiosity. 

With his men in tow, they approach on silent footsteps and flank her side. If the witch sees them, she gives no indication, nor changes her path of travel.

Charles draws a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “Witch in the woods!”

Her steps stop and the shrouded face turned towards him. The bright light of sunset is swallowed up in the impossible darkness of the cowl. He squints, trying to glimpse even the barest hint of a facial feature, but he finds nothing within the dark recess. But even if he can’t count her appearance as a victory, at least she has stopped at his call. 

A smirk curls his lips as he takes another advancing step, motioning for his men to hold back. “So, it is you. You do exist.” He keeps a casual, easy tone. “I was almost starting to wonder if you were a spirit summoned by the commoners.”

The cloaked figure remains motionless as he continues.

“But you stand accused of witchcraft and must be detained for questioning.” He says, taking another step forward, now just within an arm’s reach away. “Surrender peacefully, and no harm will come to you. Resist, and we will respond in kind.”

The hooded figure moves without warning.  A heavily draped arm shoots forward, expelling a cloud of red dust in the air right in front of his face.

He sputters against the invasion of the sweet-smelling red powder, feeling it tickle his nose. Coughs seize his lungs to keep from breathing it in, but each gasping breath draws it in to coat his mouth and throat. Dizziness starts to eat at his vision, heat blooming in his blood. His vision goes unfocused and he staggers, struggling to keep his balance.

The hooded figure takes a retreating step, but he can’t make his mouth form the words that he desperately wants. His body grows tense, taught like a bowstring, and he struggles through deep, labored breaths. Fire burns in his veins, his skin growing sensitive to every pull and stretch of his clothing. His balance falters, falling to a knee as he grasps for control against the mindless heat that consumes him, against the growing rush of blood hardening his cock beyond belief. 

“Seize her…” He barely recognizes his own voice, choked and strained. “Get her!” He manages to lift his head up through the vertigo, enraged to see the hooded figure disappearing back into the safety of the  tree line.

Tag List: @kingliam2019

#charles brandon #duke of suffolk #the tudors #henry cavill #charles brandon x ofc #henry cavill x ofc #the tudors fanfic

[stampwithtami]

VIDEO CLASS: How to make circle wreath cards - Series #1

EASTER LILY CIRCLE WREATH CARD Welcome back, creative souls! Last week's Circle Wreath card alternative sparked an overwhelming wave of excitement and inspiration. In response to your enthusiasm, I've decided to embark on a thrilling journey – a livestream class dedicated to crafting a stunning series of Circle Wreath cards. In this session, we'll dive into the mesmerizing world of the Stampin' Up Easter Lilies stamps and dies, unraveling the secrets behind this beautiful technique. The Video Class Experience: Join me in this exciting video class where I'll not only guide you through the intricate process of creating Circle Wreath cards using the enchanting Stampin' Up Easter Lilies collection but also share basic techniques featuring Watercolor Pencils and Blender Pens. These techniques are perfect for beginners who are just getting started in the world of card-making. Prepare to be inspired as we explore various occasions and themes, ensuring a diverse array of cards that cater to all tastes and preferences. Custom Sized Envelopes Made Easy: Discover the art of crafting custom-sized envelopes effortlessly. I'll unveil a quick and easy method using nothing but a 12" x 12" sheet of designer paper and adhesive. Learn how to elevate your card-making game by ensuring that even larger cards can be beautifully presented in a custom-sized envelope. Your creativity knows no bounds! Free PDF for Today's Card: As a token of gratitude for your support, I've prepared a free downloadable PDF for today's Easter Lilies card. This printable resource includes detailed written instructions, precise measurements, and a clickable supply list. Elevate your crafting experience with this handy guide, making it easier than ever to recreate the magic at home. What to Expect in the series: Stay tuned for an upcoming series of tutorials within the Circle Wreath collection. Each tutorial promises to unlock new dimensions of creativity and card-making prowess. Get ready for a week filled with inspiration, tips, and the joy of crafting as we explore the endless possibilities of Circle Wreath cards. CIRCLE WREATH CARD VIDEO https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YM38qITDHtc INSTRUCTIONS INSTRUCTIONS PDF ⬇ The instructions include measurements, step by step directions and a template to create this card. There is also a clickable supply list.  DOWNLOAD PDF HELPFUL VIDEOS ⬇ MATERIALS I USED TO MAKE THIS CARD STAMPIN UP MATERIALS I USED  SEE MORE TUTORIALS IN MY WREATH CIRCLE CARD SERIES WREATH CIRCLE CARD SERIES Click the thumbnails below for more free tutorials in my series. STAMPIN' UP! CATALOGS CURRENT SPECIALS Description for this block. Use this space for describing your block. Any text will do. Description for this block. You can use this space for describing your block. PHOTOS I used the Stampin' Up! Easter Lilies stamps and dies to create this card. The background is embossed with the Distressed Tile 3D Folder. As a token of gratitude for your support, I've prepared a free downloadable PDF for today's Easter Lilies card. This printable resource includes detailed written instructions, precise measurements, and a clickable supply list.  I used the Stampin' Up Watercolor Pencils II to color the lily petals and leaves. The words are heat embossed in Copper and cut with the rectangle label from the Wild Ferns dies. The circles are cut from the Stampin' Up Stylish Shapes Dies. I added bling from the Blooming Pearls embellishments. They are in the Online Exclusives section of my online store. The card folds flat and will fit inside a Medium Sized Stampin' Up Envelope. The card makes a great Easter card, but also would be a beautiful sympathy card. Some views of the card from different angles. Want to save these ideas for later? Pin them to your favorite Pinterest board. Have you tried these designs? I love to see your creations! Be sure to share them on #shareyourcrafts post every Saturday on my Facebook Page    GIVEAWAY This is a blog comment entry giveaway. To enter, simply scroll (or click here) and leave a comment. No purchase necessary. Current Contests & All Winners announced on my WINNERS CIRCLE page Read the full article