#and if it's not (like it is for me LMAO/ i am forcibly sitting us in front of a fireplace and drinking some hot choco okay love u

[headfkknempty]

they should invent a fingers warming thing for the controller cause i can't game and warm my finges at the same time 😔

#kas talks #also happy holidays everyone #merry christmas to everyone who celebrates i hope this holiday is treating you well #and if it's not (like it is for me LMAO/ i am forcibly sitting us in front of a fireplace and drinking some hot choco okay love u

[wantedtourist]

What's your favorite silverusso scene of all time and why

the mini mart scene! everything about it is perfect to me minus the setting lmao. we have Daniel standing up to Terry, and we have Terry all up in Daniel's personal space (just like old times!), staring him down as he tells him that Daniel liked what Terry did to him, and suggesting that Terry knows who/what Daniel really is. and throughout it all there’s such delicious tension unlike anything they share with other characters. specifically, here are some reasons this scene is my favorite:

1.

the way Terry approaches Daniel here and the way Daniel has to brace himself for what Terry is about to say next, because he KNOWS what Terry is about to say but he’s going to look at Terry right in the eyes when he says it. and that’s so???

2.

Terry says it! and he 100% believes what he is saying to Daniel here. but what he gets most gratification from here is that he is getting under Daniel's skin. that's why he’s doing it, that’s what he gets off on. and that’s so???

3.

again, Terry believes what he is saying here. and this moment specifically is so pivotal to Daniel’s “MD ONLY” stance this season. yes, Daniel doesn't rise to the bait in this moment and instead says "we'll settle this on the mat." BUT of course by that he means "I'm not Cobra Kai, there's nothing Cobra Kai about me or in me, there’s no you in me, I love and respect Mr. Miyagi and what he taught me and that’s who I am and that’s what I teach and to prove that to you my students are going to defeat your students using only Miyagi do." in other words Daniel's single-minded focus on MD in the latter half of s4 is both about "well I defeated CK in the past with MD so it's only logical we use MD and only MD in the AVT there’s no time to figure out anything else" AND about "I can't use CK methods/style because that's what Terry wants to see, just like in ‘85, and I refuse to prove Terry right about me" aka it's all a response to Terry's presence and Terry's claims about him. it really is that easy for Terry to just waltz back into his life and take over Daniel’s mind like this because Daniel’s afraid that Terry is right about him. that he did like it. that Cobra Kai/Terry is in him. and that’s so???

anyway if their scenes together in s5 are anything like this scene, then bring it on, my clown suit is ready.

as for my favorite scene in KK3? uhm let’s go for now with Terry’s fake white knight act in the MD garden and Daniel staring after him like a love-struck fairy tale protagonist. behold, yearning:

ugh no wait but also when Terry shouts at Daniel to call him “sir” and Daniel looks so scared that he’s disappointed/upset Terry. the contrast! (but also, it’s still yearning??)

actuallyyyyy I highlighted the contrast of these 2 scenes specifically in this gifset: https://wantedtourist.tumblr.com/post/669019036618752000/different-but-same

i.e. Daniel offering Terry his hand but Terry refusing it in favor of a “respectful” bow + Daniel’s love-struck stare (”my white knight, my karate prince”) VERSUS Terry forcibly grabbing Daniel’s hand because it’s bruised and bloodied and he has to make a point + Daniel’s stricken stare (”don’t be mad I’ll be good, sir”) after Terry shouts at him, whew, good stuff, good stuff

(and what do ALL these scenes have in common? acting. choices. mr macchio mr tig I just wanna sit down with you and chat.)

#ask #silverusso #daniel larusso #terry silver #cobra kai

[notnctu]

push & pull | kim doyoung

❀ slytherin!doyoung x hufflepuff!femreader ❀ genre - SLOW BURN, smut, fluff, a bit of humor (idk not rlly) ❀ details -  hogwarts!au, fwb to lovers?, y/n is a player lol, jealous doyoung, mutual pining, doyoung is a lil mean ❀ word count - 9.7k ❀ warnings - explicit language, possessiveness (a concept of marking), dom!doyoung, angry sex?, slight dirty talk, penetration, fingering, praise kink ❀ synopsis - in which a prideful slytherin and an oblivious hufflepuff play a clueless emotion game of tug of war.

❝I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?❞  

❝People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you pursue me?❞ ❀ a/n - i changed the plot a little bit as i was writing lol but hopefully it still fits everything! i said this in the teaser, but i want to preface and say that the magic/marking is not canon to harry potter, and that the only thing im using are the sectional houses/subjects. besides that, everything is made up LMAO also pls b lenient with me, i read hogwarts!au but writing it is very out of my comfort zone and am very bad at creating anything magical 

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Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, mindlessly and imperfectly steals glances your way across the dining tables and under several hundred floating lit candles. He sits huddled with his few posh friends that wear the same green and silver tie situated so tightly underneath their necks. And you, just looking as dazzling as ever, with your yellow and black tie hanging loose and a few buttons undone from your dress shirt.

He hates how easily you catch his attention and his ability to spot your figure in a dense crowd. You barely even look his way in public now, often distracted by a broad Gryffindor that tries to make flirtatious advantages at you. And when he thinks it can’t get any worse, it does… as you’re flashing your bright beautiful smile back at him and the shift in your body language.

“You’re staring again.” Yuta flickers between his friend and the subject of his focus.

Doyoung clears his throat, smooths his tie and physically turns his body away from the horrendous scene. “It’s very hard not to stare when she’s flirting with other men in front of me.”

“Does she do it on purpose?” The silver haired boy raises a questionable eyebrow and Doyoung reacts before he can speak.

He perks up and narrows his eyes at Yuta. “Purpose? Like to make me jealous?” Doyoung scoffs, laughs almost at the ridiculous thought. “The answer is no. We’re not exclusive, we’re nothing.”

“If you two are nothing, then why are you acting like you two are something? Get a grip, it’s practically sickening watching you fume over a ditzy Hufflepuff.” As Yuta prepares to bite into his delicious soft bread roll, it flies out of his grip, down the long table and onto another person’s plate.

Both boys are quick to stand to their feet and face each other chest to chest. Neither one of them is intimidated by the other, but their other friends around them are rather shocked by the sudden discrepancy.

Doyoung forcibly brushes off an imaginary dust off his good friend’s shoulders and draws a perfectly strained fake smile, knowing that others may be watching and he is a Prefect after all. But most importantly, you could be watching. “Call her that again, and your dinner won’t be the only thing that’s thrown across the table.” His threat is loud enough solely for Yuta to hear.

Yuta, with glaring eyes, picks up his dinner tray and walks off with his chin held high and a brisk in his stride. Doyoung clears his throat in the midst of the brief silence and out of habit, fixes his tie back in place. He takes a seat back down and the chatter at the table resumes, but he’s beyond embarrassed and disappointed at his loss of temper that everything drowns out.

Almost everything. He feels a light tap on his shoulder and out of annoyance, he spins around hastily and sharply snarls, “what?” But his eyes land on your fearful wide eyes and the slight cower in your stance, knowing that you caught onto his bad mood. And he’s half in disbelief that you’re approaching him right in the center of the Great Hall, that you’re standing so beautiful a foot away from him.

Instant regret and guilt fills his chest, his sharp eyes soften at your pout and the concerned furrow in between your brows. Nonetheless, he doesn’t have any words to say… he can’t get himself to apologize for his behavior.

“Do you want to walk to Herbology with me?” The quiver in your voice made you seem so small, so desperate for him, that he can hear the reactions of his friends. They’re laughing, at him, at you, at the whole scene that’s unfolding. He feels mocked, being a laughing stock isn’t something he’s very fond of.

His lips form a tight line, and in a snarky tone, “you don’t know your own way, Puff? Mind you ask your own Prefect to guide you.” Fuck. He tried to find the nicest way possible to brush you off, but his friends laugh a bit louder and intensely. And you didn’t like that one bit.

Your lips part slightly in a frown, an eyebrow raised and a hand on your hip. You look as if you’re ready to attack him, to jinx him, to probably pinch at his skin. But he knows you, and you’d do none of the above. Instead, you say the one threat that causes his heart to sink into the pit of his stomach, “don’t talk to me in class.” You’re slipping away from him as you pick up your pace, exiting all the commotion in the Great Hall.

He tries to hide the disappointment that stems from his chest, and his heart beats with an inexplicable dull pain. All he can think about is the twist of your expression and he’s gathering his things rather quickly to follow after you, without even a bid goodbye to his clique.

Without any knowledge of what you two do behind closed doors and the complex history that you two share, one may view your relationship as practically nonexistent; you two are strangers, barely passing acquaintances. 

Doyoung does not approach you in the halls, in anywhere that necessarily has many witnesses. You smile at him, maybe even a wave depending on your mood, but no one questions it … as you wave at almost everyone who passes by you.

Classmates might see interaction during the one class you two share, if they pay attention close enough. However, you and Doyoung are much more to each other than passing acquaintances. Although he’s starting to see himself as another name on your list of individuals you sleep with, you are much more to him than you could ever know.

He’ll never forget the first time you two met. He was patrolling the halls for anyone lurking past curfew with his nose dug deep in his heavy book on magical creatures, when you walked right into him and caused the both of you to fall to the granite.

He was beyond ready to dock off points for whoever the rule breaker may be, but you took his breath away when you hovered above him and clasped your palm over his mouth before he can scold anyone. You looked a bit frazzled as your hair was all over the place and he noticed your minimal amount of clothing in the middle of a cold winter night.

He saw the signature Hufflepuff badge on your thin sweater and the sound of your voice completely threw him off his tracks.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper at the stunned Prefect underneath you, whose body feels warm against your own. But your eyes remain frantically on the lookout for anyone else passing, despite the lack of light in the cobblestone hallway. You most definitely do not belong in this wing of the castle and knocking down a Prefect caused more of a problem in your escape route.

Quickly standing up, you lend your hand out for him to take. His long fingers accept your hold as he pulls himself up and dusts the dirt off his robe. His green emblem glows in the dim light and you’re internally screaming at the mess you just made for yourself. But you recognize his features: the sharpness in his eyes, the small curves of the corners of his lips, his neatly parted black hair.

“You’re in some deep---”

“---Kim Doyoung.” The boy freezes at the sound of his name and he blinks at you, curious as to where you know of him. Being a Prefect has its small perks of popularity, but he didn’t expect for it to go this far. “Y/N, we had brooms together.”

As he repeats your name and examines your pretty features, a light bulb goes off in his head. “The clumsy Hufflepuff that fell off her broom in the highest altitude?”

“If that’s how you remember me by.” You smile proudly, and he scoffs at how someone could possibly hold pride in something so silly. “It’s nice to see you around, you’re a Prefect! Wow! That’s incredible.”

“And you’re still as clumsy as you were a year ago. Falling all over the place.”

“Unfortunately, some things don’t change! But you certainly have.” Doyoung looks at you with hooded eyes and a cautious gaze, but you’re so outlandishly bold despite swaying with your hands behind your back. “Please, don’t take that the wrong way. I meant it as a compliment! I used to have a tiny crush on you, baseless, but you helped me catch my broomstick and I’ll never be able to forget that.”

Doyoung, unknowingly, lights up at your shameless confession and takes another good look at you. You're much more mature now, and if he stared into your alluring gaze any longer, he’d be completely mesmerized without the need of a love potion. “So you liked me over a meaningless chivalrous act?”

“I liked you because you were charming and yes, perhaps I am someone who finds attractiveness in men who are chivalrous. There’s nothing wrong with that.” You bat your sweet eyelashes at him so endearingly, and he’s a blushing mess all over the place.

Doyoung has had anonymous love letters passed on from his friends, but they were all Slytherins who yearned greedily to be associated with his status. So knowing that a Hufflepuff, with an innocent youthful approach to love, festered some form of infatuation with him does flatter him quite well. “I’ll let you go.”

You’re about to exhale an exasperated sigh of relief until Doyoung continues, “under one condition.”

“Okay, I’ll do anything.” Your gleaming eyes sparkle like stars paired with the night sky.

He rolls his eyes at you, “don’t be so quick to jump at conditions without hearing them first.” Doyoung groans and you passively brush off his comment.

“If it’s harmless, I’ll do it.”

And in the dead of the night, where only you two stand in the middle of an empty cobblestone hallway, Doyoung requests, “I want to see you again.”

Although that night marked the beginning of your friendship, public interactions were still scarce and this was mainly on the fault of Doyoung. The times you met were late nights past curfew where he was stationed at and he grew to enjoy your wondrous personality. This boy grew up in a Slytherin bubble his whole life, no one outside of his house ever dared approached him … at least, not with the warmest smile as yours.

You were everything he was not, but he liked it so much. You were a half that completed his whole, and there were growing pains he couldn’t confide in anyone else. Surprisingly, you knew his imperfections more than he did himself and yet, you still wanted to be around him to encourage him. Not to mention, you had a sudden growth in other parts of your body and formed into your features very beautifully.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed, as there were more male counterparts who smiled at you, talked about you, fawned over you. And he felt something heighten inside of him along with his existing romantic feelings, and that he began seeing you in a new light.

With you experiencing new things, like hand holding and being showered by love letters on Valentine’s Day, it was wrong of him to fester such envy over the ones who publicly adorned you. He was so blinded by his hot headed rage that he completely missed the fact that you never accepted anyone who confessed, maybe the hand holding, but everyone else was a complete rejection.

All this time, you had been waiting for him and when you two shared your first kiss together, you had an assumption that Doyoung was going to finally confess that he felt the same way. But he never did. You two did, however, further your relationship into something more intimate and taking each other’s virginities opened a whole pathway of possibilities --- none being one where you two end up officially together.

He was the first to sleep with someone else, that was his first of many mistakes that he was going to make in his relationship with you. It also became the drop of the needle for you to start seeing other people as well, to explore what Doyoung couldn’t offer, to rid yourself of the feelings you had for a boy that didn’t seem like he wanted anything more.

Chivalry was dead and Doyoung believed that the innocent youthful Hufflepuff love had disappeared from within you.

As his present day runs after you, you’re abruptly stopped by a Ravenclaw for a small chat. Damn you Hufflepuffs for being friendly and social. So, he rushes past the two of you and into the classroom to await for your arrival. The quick shade of green flashes by your side and you’re fuming incredibly at how Doyoung continues to play you like a harp.

When you slide into your assigned seat next to him, he goes off like a canon. Doyoung starts spewing backhanded excuses and endless shameless rambles about his behavior. “I told you. Don’t talk to me during class or I will jinx you. Won’t be able to talk with your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.”

“You’re not going to jinx me.” With a subtle flick of his wrist, your chair is pulled closer to his. “And if you were to do so, you wouldn’t do something so cynical.” Yelping at the abrupt usage of his magic, you’re irritably pressing your ink into your journal with a newfound annoyance.

“You’re right. I’d turn you into a duck, so at least, you’re still cute to look at.” The mindless scribbles on the paper make no sense in your head, as you’re primarily zoned in on the disrupted energy you have about your Slytherin companion. These ill feelings make you almost sick, wanting to shut out any bad replay of the moments before and forgetting about the attention you seek so much from Doyoung.

“For you to successfully cast a jinx on me, you must make eye contact first.” His finger lifts your chin and you’re eye to eye with his lustful dark stare. Doyoung licks his lips, a shine shimmers from his saliva, and he’s tempted to bring you into his chambers for an intimacy he’s been craving. “My, oh my. You’re looking very charmed today.” A grin curves up and taunts you, and you’re blinking away down at the table.

“Doyoung, we’re in class. Please, focus.” Your desperate whisper turns into a whine once his cold hand slyly smooths over your bare knee.

“Are you free later tonight?” Doyoung peers over at your side profile and your skin feels soft at his fingertips. He’s imagining your intoxicating scent mixing with his sheets, your light playful kisses along his neck, and gripping onto every naked part of you. For a whole minute, he’s forgotten that he’s in class with other no name individuals and a boring professor. He has tunnel vision whenever he’s with you.

“I have an arrangement.” The grip on your knee tightens at your quiet answer. An arrangement.

“The Gryffindor who had leafy greens in between his teeth?” Doyoung treads lightly, because you’re both well aware he’s made harsher insults than that. He retrieves his hand and picks up his pen as if he’s never touched you.

He sees your head shake out of the corner of his eye, you’re rolling your lips together sheepishly. There’s something odd about your stance and he’s growing a bit more curious…. A bit more spiteful at how closed off you are being. There’s something you’re hiding from him. “Then, who?”

“Is there something you’d like to discuss with the class, Mr. Kim? If not, I’d like for everyone to head over to the greenhouse.” As the class slightly snickers and the classroom empties, you and Doyoung are stopped by your professor.

Professor Sprout, wearing her worn out Dragon hide gloves and a thin lined smile, shoves a potted plant into Doyoung’s hands, “behave, you two. Your conversations are never very secret when spoken aloud.” She gives both of you a warning before proceeding out along with the rest of the class.

Doyoung scoffs at the absurd encounter and rolls his eyes. “Ah, you’re getting me in trouble with you now.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung. It’s better that you don’t know.” You say this every time, when will you realize that keeping your hookups a secret only causes him more agony? He catches your wrist as you both exit the corridors, he barely ever has you alone now. And to say the least, he fucking misses you.

“Spare me some of your time after class.” He’s disgusted by himself, knowing that his eyes are begging for you to say yes. Him, a highly admired Slytherin, has settled for scraps and if anyone knew, they’d never let him live.

Your hand gently clasps over his and when you look up with your starry eyes, something inside him feels at peace. “Did you miss me?” He gulps at your question and blinks at you like a deer in headlights. If said by anyone else, he would not hesitate to snap his fingers into a malicious spell. But you ask the million dollar question so sweetly, there’s no taunt… there’s no mockery in your tone. It’s full of genuine curiosity.

So, he answers you with part of his heart that you know too well. “Unfortunately.” His body falls slightly in defeat, and suddenly the potted plant is alive in his hands. It’s wailing a dangerous and annoying loud cry, completely ruining the moment.

Doyoung quizzically ponders the monstrous green plant and its magical capabilities puzzle him, possibly reminding him to pay more attention to the actual curriculum than on your unbuttoned shirt.

Moreover, your giggle surprisingly calms him in this stressful situation and you lightly pat his hand that’s still gripping your wrist. “I’m all yours after class.” 

Taking the wretched plant, you hurry off toward the greenhouse to find someone to diffuse the crying creature. Doyoung laughs in disbelief at your comical animated figure running around with a pot over your head and shouting for any student to help you. So you’re not paying attention in class either?

Doyoung takes you to your favorite place, despite the rule that you��re not allowed access to it. The Prefect Bathroom remains spotlessly clean and fresh paired with an immediate scent of rosewater and wild honeysuckle. The white polished marble gleams prettily under the twinkling diamond chandeliers and you’re twirling enthusiastically in the center of the large undressing area.

He observes and smiles widely to himself at the sight of your happiness and cute giggles. It’s always a risk to have you use their bathroom, but he is always abusing his privilege to seek your enjoyment that he truly doesn’t care about anything else. Your morality has beaten him enough and he’s heard plenty about his wrongdoings, yet here you are… sweetly dancing in the one place that’s absolutely wrong. Perhaps, you two have rubbed off a little too much on one another.

“I can never get sick of this place.” As you plead to Doyoung to cast a bubble bath, you’re already stripping out of your skirt. He shields his eyes to give you some privacy and recites the charm to run hot dazzling water in the ginormous pool. A nice soothing bath is exactly what you two need after a stressful day playing in the dirt.

“This is your favorite place.” says Doyoung with a matter of fact edge to this tone.

“It’s my favorite place because I only get to come here with you.” You jump on his back and he hoists you up by your thighs. His heart skips a happy tune. “I refuse for you to tell me the password, even if you do wish for me to enjoy the simple pleasures of a bubble bath.”

“You and your right and wrongs.” With eager hands, you’re loosening his tie from around his neck. “You stripped so fast that you’re going to get a cold.”

“It’s going to get steamy really soon. Plus, I know you like me best without any clothes on.” Your hot breath tickles the shell of his ear and a blush scatters across Doyoung’s cheek. Button after button, his open shirt exposes his toned build. He sets you on the edge of the elevated step before the bath.

Doyoung smirks at your nakedness and your hot lustful expression. Leaning in until he’s practically breathing against your lips, he stares straight into your eyes. “My Puff knows me best.” And dives into you with all his soul. Fruitful drags of his lips along yours, his long tongue enters your mouth. His large hand carefully caresses your cheek to pull you further into the kiss, noses pressing into skin and with a desire to never part.

His heart swells lovingly, kissing you feels like the best thing in the world. There are no tricks, no spells, no recited charms, but you are more than magical. The same surge of energy runs through his veins, but unlike his impressive ability as a notable wizard, he can’t control it. You make him lose control. As meticulous and cautious as he is, you’re the first thing he doesn’t think through.

Your needy hands push off his dress shirt and he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. When you break the kiss, he automatically pouts and pulls you back in for one more lingering peck. “Are you going to scrub my back for me?” You smile, dragging him closer to the overflowing bathtub.

Large puffs of white bubbles spill from the rims and disappear with your every step. It reminds you of sea foam that washes upon the shore, with a floral fragrant that fills your lungs. “That’s quite an intimate gesture, but yes.”

After removing all his garments, he joins you in the large pool of glossy bubbles and the clouds of steam that rises from the water suffocates him warmly. He sits with his back against the wall and eyes unwavering on your alluring expression. 

The bubbles do a great job at covering your breasts, but his sneaky hands snake under the water to grip them. Doyoung grabs a full tit and thumbs over your erect nipple, all while he holds the most sensual gaze with you. Slowly, you naturally end up in his hold and your wet back relaxes against his chest.

The beating of his heart is too loud and surely, you can feel the way it jumps out of his chest. Doyoung attaches his lips on your skin and as you’re melting at his harsh suckling. However, you perk up and snap out of your dazed arousal at the realization of his purposeful licks. “You’re trying to mark me?”

His hand continues to rub and twist your aching nipples. The sensation stimulating the growth of pleasure to sprout below and your mind to wander. 

“Possibly.”

A lovers’ mark is the ultimate testament of mutual love. Engraving the skin with your beloved’s Patronus, wherever the giver chooses to mark. Love emblems are meant to be something sacred to the couple, a way to make someone completely untouchable to everyone else. Not only does the symbol glow with an iridescent shine whenever love is felt, it also numbs any romantic feelings for all others besides the partner.

Besides the use of possessiveness, it’s a beautiful way to discover one true love since the engraving of their Patronus shows up on the skin under the conditions that both individuals must be madly in love with one another. And if it doesn’t end up forming, the receiver is left with a bright, sparkling star hue in its place before fading away completely. If it does appear, it fades when both fall out of love.

“Doyoung--” His name falls from your lips as a moan and he’s running down to explore the beauty between your legs. “--can’t do that unless you actually want to commit to me.”

“I am committed to you.” The more your neck cranes off to the side and exposed to him, the more he wishes to etch the symbol of his love for everyone to see. A hand is hooked under your thigh to keep your legs spread open and you’re gasping at the slight pressure from the water.

“Romantically committed to me.” You remind him, but your train of thought is cut fairly short as Doyoung begins rubbing circles on your needy clit.

“You’re afraid of it showing up?” He’s lathering your breasts with bubbles and dragging his long finger along your slit. His greediness overtakes him and with wandering hands, he’s gripping every part of you that they can reach. Doyoung’s guilty pleasure is always going to any form of physical affection from you specifically. When he finally gets ahold of you, it’s hard for him to let go.

Your warm skin is delicate and smooth beneath the very tips of his fingers and every exploration of your terrain makes him feel inexplicable explosions of fondness. Perhaps, you’ve captivated him and although he believed it would take something as extreme as the Amortentia to have him falling for someone, you did it as easily as being yourself. His better half.

So, he’s impressed by your genuineness and how he’s willing to give up parts of his reputation to unapologetically be himself around you. No one else matters, nothing else matters, but why must it be so difficult to tell you that?

“I’m afraid of it not showing up.” You’re more than convinced that Doyoung has confused his strong sense of lust with love and there would be no possible way his Patronus would appear. It’s better to save the embarrassment for the both of you.

Spinning in his arms, the water twirls to the curves of your body and he’s admiring parts that expose above the surface. He’s matched with your beauty before him, resemblance to the stained glass window that situates above the large bathroom.

However, the doubt in your statement finally reaches his ears and he’s grabbing your ass as you settle over his thighs again. His furrowed eyebrows bring together a rather upset expression --- lip pout and all.

“Why wouldn’t it show up?” Doyoung puzzles, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. Leaning into him, your pruney fingers trace his smooth chin and he notices your quick flicker between his eyes and his lips.

While your gentle kiss reassures him of your subtle endearment, your next words do the opposite. “You tell me.” All you do is push him away with your vague doubtfulness, like you’re constantly testing him and using his poor guessing skills to your own advantage. He can pull you close after any altercation he wants, but you push him away in any emotionally romantic sense.

“You’re rather mischievous and mysterious today,” Doyoung squeezes your ass and smacks it lightly, causing ripples in the water. “I liked it better when you told me everything you felt.”

Suddenly, his fingers poke at your entrance and his other hand drops in between your legs again. Your mouth opens in shock when his long fingers enter slowly and he enjoys the pleasurable contour of your reactions. “Like this, for example.” The pad of his fingers working rapid flicks against your sensitive bud. “How does this feel?” His whisper dances across your shoulder, landing a kiss at the end of his question.

Your moans echo in the lavish bathroom, bouncing off the marble walls and encouraging Doyoung to keep a steady pace. There’s no worry about how loud you may be, Doyoung charms every room before every lustful encounter. This allows you to let go, let free, let him know how he makes you feel.

He curves his fingers into you, pumping and dragging into your tightness until you’re practically screaming. He only has one thought, as his eyes trail down your intoxicated needy figure, how beautiful you are as a moaning mess under his control. Your head is thrown back, eyes are squeezed shut and opening them to see nothing but tiny yellow starlight.

Dainty kisses line your exposed neck line and his ego swells with so much pride. Doyoung has mastered every flick of his wrist to have you under his trance, spewing nonsensical words and forgetting anyone else that exists. He gives your erect nipples harsh licks and with a faint drag of teeth, the sensation pushes you to your end.

Sporadic pleasurable convulsions cause your legs to close around Doyoung’s hands, but the strength of his knee keeps them apart. “Doyoung… I’m going to free fall.”

Leave it up to you to beautifully announce your climax. He snickers, applying more pressure on your clit and a rubbing motion against your walls. “I’ll catch you.”

Moon crescents embed into his skin as you’re holding onto him with your whole life. As your scream hits every octave, the massive collection of bubbles that cover the surface of the bath fly and splatter every corner of the pristine room. 

White and wet bubbles drip down from the walls, falling from the diamond chandeliers, and coating every steamy mirror. Doyoung’s eyes light up from the chaos, making sure you’re riding out your high for as long as he can provide.

Your body trembles with euphoria, falling forward into Doyoung’s chest and squeezing around his lazily pumping fingers. For a brief second, your mind is wiped and nothing in the world feels better than being in this perfect moment with the one person who’s Patronus you hoped would etch your skin.

If one possesses feelings that are practically unbearable to contain, one should confess… right? For all your life, you’ve lived by this statement. Friends do not hear the end of it and most surely, one should follow their own advice… right?

So why do you yearn for Doyoung in your gaze as he stands across the Great Hall as if he doesn’t know of your existence? As if he wasn’t kissing you in the Prefect bathroom a few days prior?

It’s not an understatement to say that you catch the attention of almost every person in the room, but the one head that refuses to turn your way… the one who’s looks you wish to steal… is the one person who looks right through you.

Feelings have become a nuisance ever since the first time you confessed to him and it was worse than landing on cobblestone after falling off your broom. The reason why you’ve buried them deeper than any chamber is that you’re positive that the prized Slytherin would rather be with another, preferably one from his own house.

While you try to remain optimistic and playful for the time being, you’re simply replaceable to him. He can barely care to acknowledge you in public when Gryffindors boast about you in their arms like winning a trophy. You’ve kept good relations with every Ravenclaw you’ve slept with. You’ve kindly rejected every romantic gesture another Hufflepuff has offered.

But if there is one thing you’ve learned about him is that he’s lived in his Slytherin circle for as long as he lives. And it will stay that way. You’re his sweet Hufflepuff that he’ll push away at no cost, then pull you back in secrecy.

Now if one feels as if they’re wasting their time, one should leave… right? Wrong. Kim Doyoung has skewed with your morality… and your feelings remain loyal to him since the day he confessed to see you again.

“Lemon-drop, I’ve been looking all over for you.” An arm slings around your shoulders and the notable red and gold tie is the first thing you see. Jung Jaehyun, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, flashes his deep dimples at you. “Walk with me.”

He extends his palm out for you to take and your friends painfully elbow your sides to wake you from your hesitation. Taking his hand, you get up from the dining table and follow him out the Great Hall.

Doyoung sees the scene unfold before him and rolls his eyes at how Jaehyun’s dimples are all it takes to have you wandering off with him. Despite every wicked intent to follow you two, he heads out in the direction of the dormitories to fume in his room.

“It’s such a nice and sunny day today.” Jaehyun runs a hand through his luscious brown locks. You both exit into the front courtyard as other students are scattered on the lawns mingling with one another. When you peer up at the sky, the sun is barely seen past the layers of clouds.

“Jaehyun, is there something you needed to speak with me about?” His laughter roars, full of hefty song and amusement.

“Listen, lemon-drop. I like you and I have a feeling you feel the same way. I want to mark you if you’d let me.” Jaehyun smirks and just as he brings your hand up for a kiss, you gently let go. “Am I coming off too strong? We don’t have to do it today, I just wanted to see if it would show.”

“Jaehyun, you’re going to find an extravagant person one day. A person who is going to know all your favorite castle balconies to swing from and how you like to be kissed on the nose.” His ears grow a bright red and for once, his gaze drops to the ground. “I am, unfortunately, not that person for you so I must kindly reject your confession.”

As you turn on your toes, Jaehyun lightly holds your wrist to stop you. “But, you know all those things about me. Is there anything I can do to prove that we belong together?”

“I know them because I care enough to remember things you tell me, not because I loved you enough to observe these things about you. I give you my word that there is nothing you can do to prove me otherwise.” The corners of his lips dip downward and you’re running to the one person that will erase this sad rejection from your memory.

When you’re scanning the Great Hall for any sign of him, he’s not there and it leads you to his only hiding place. Doyoung loves to shut himself out from the rest of the school whenever he gets the chance. However, a lost Hufflepuff wandering outside the entrance of the Slytherin dormitories is rather an odd sight to see and you haven’t had the chance to form many connections from this house.

The sparse amount of Slytherins you know aren’t going to be passing by, unless with some stroke of luck, someone will be kind enough to open the door for you. Every person passes by you with questionable stares until a silver haired boy blinks at you with wide eyes.

“Who is it that you’re trying to see?” He asks abrasively, but softens his tone when he realizes that you mean no harm.

You bid him a small grin, “your Prefect.”

“And what for?”

“There is an urgent matter that involves him and he’s practically unreachable when he’s hiding away in his private room.” The boy narrows his eyes at you, but beckons you to follow him down to the Slytherin dungeon.

Excitedly, you hurry behind him and whisper over his shoulder, “what’s your name?”

“Nakamoto Yuta. No need to tell me yours, I’ll doubt he’d want me to know.” He spits and then, mutters the enchanted password to reveal the large green common room. “Come this way.” He leads up the boys’ dorms and walks briskly. Although you never mentioned a name, Yuta seems to already know who you’re here to see and it makes you wonder how he must know.

“Open up.” Yuta stops and knocks at the wooden door, Kim Doyoung written in a fancy penmanship on the center. “You have a guest.” He looks your way before rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s irritated tone through the other side.

“Tell them to leave.”

“He wants you to leave.” Yuta repeats, mostly to satisfy Doyoung’s nag.

“That’s fine. Thank you for bring---” The door swings open abruptly and Yuta almost loses his balance. Doyoung frantically turns his head side to side to comprehend what he is seeing. His ears felt deceived, hearing your voice through the door, he had to make sure it wasn’t you.

But you stand before him and Yuta. Here you are approaching him whenever he least expects it. “What are you doing here?”

“I came by to see you. I’ve been here plenty of times.”

“What are you doing bringing her in?” scolds Doyoung and the other boy shrugs carelessly.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her bat puppy eyes at several other Slytherins and have her telling everyone who passes her that she came here to see our Prefect? It was also getting cold out.” Yuta mumbles, but finds great entertainment at seeing how frazzled Doyoung has gotten by your presence.

“It was a bit chilly.” You admit and Doyoung groans, pulling you into his room and shutting the door on Yuta. “Thank you, Yuta.” You whisper through the crack between the door frame.

“It’s too risky for you to be searching for me around other Slytherins.” Doyoung paces the room and you notice his tie is loose and shirt is unbuttoned around his neck. “Why are you here?”

“A Gryffindor blew me off. I thought I’d come and see you with all the free time I can get.” Taking a seat at the end of his neatly made bed, your legs swing adorably and Doyoung almost doesn’t hear you.

“Jaehyun? Does he think he’s too good for you or something? That cocky dimple Gryffindor, with the draw of my wand---” Doyoung whips out his intricately customized Dragon Heartstring, and you’re on your feet to calm his temper down.

“Will you put that thing away? I’m here for you.” Your giggle warms his tight chest and puts out the fueling flame for anyone who dares to hurt you in any way. “It’s not a big deal and it’s not the first time it has happened.”

Doyoung uncomfortably clears his throat and withdraws his wand. Buttoning up his shirt, he fixes his tie back in place. To say the least, your words erupted his festering jealousy and this may have been a small tipping point.

Before you had entered, he was so frustrated with himself and you. You can just walk away with another man without a second thought, in front of him too. He remembered the soft feeling of your body and how he’s not the only one who’s needy hands ran their course over you. That may be the one pain he can never get rid of.

“I never understood why you give other men the time of your day when they just brush you off undeservingly.” He stings and you’re slightly surprised at his sudden attack. When you respond in silence, he continues.“I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?”

Crossing your arms, your weight is barred on your left leg and there is a shift in your overall mood. With an eyebrow raised, you sass him back, “People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you chase after me?”

Doyoung swallows hard and blinks at you speechless. A clammy hand runs through his black strands as he tries to find any possible explanation without confessing his feelings. If he had a plan to confess, it would never be in the middle of an inquisition with you.

“I guess you didn’t think before acting on your desires.” And how he hated how correct that statement is. He doesn’t ever think whenever he’s around you. All his actions are conducted with his emotions and the feelings that overtake him.

Doyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes at your rash comment. “Aren’t you supposed to have the strongest morality among all the houses?”

“Sleeping with multiple men isn’t morally wrong. There’s nothing wrong with it…” The slight hurt from his question is difficult to ignore, but you must remember one thing if you want to protect your heart on your sleeve. This is nothing serious to be bickering over. You two aren’t anything serious, so why feel the need to squabble over nonsense? “... it would only be wrong if someone liked me and wished to commit to me.”

Your eyes meet and Doyoung blinks at you with wide eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he gulps again, completely whiplashed at how the conversation has turned. “And if that’s the case and you like me, would that make you jealous, Doyoung? That’s why you’re trying to poorly attack my character?” He’s never heard such a strong taunt in your tone and he’s baffled by it, slightly aroused, but shocked.

“I don’t like you.” His voice is small and he pouts his lips at you. Doyoung crosses his arms and perhaps, his sad expression reveals a little more than it should have. Your heart softens at his ridiculously cute response, had you expected something much more angry and vindictive.

“Then this conversation is over, right? I’ll be on my way now. I have herbology.”

“We have the same class.” He grumbles, grabbing his robe from his desk chair.

You open the door to make your exit, “but since you don’t want to be seen with a Hufflepuff, I’ll go ahead first.” When you stumble out into the hallway, a recognizable face brightens at your appearance.

“Haechan! Hello, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You’re cheering and Doyoung chews the inside of his cheek. His pride is left at the door and along with all the things that hold him back from you, he doesn’t want to push you away anymore.

“My favorite Hufflepuff, are you just leaving?” Haechan walks up to open his arms, wishing to embrace you in the longest hug. However, Doyoung quickly takes you by your hand and rushes past him.

“She came to walk with me to class. Bye Haechan.” And Haechan is left standing in the middle of the hallway, confused and watching your backs as you’re both briskly walking out the common room.

Doyoung looks back at you, “you think I’m going to let you walk out of my room and have another Slytherin walk you to class? Don’t be so foolish.”

But you are foolish. Your heart beats foolishly and loudly for Kim Doyoung. And may you be foolish enough to wonder if his heart does the same for you.

And it does. Foolishly. Loudly. Lovingly.

You both wonder if this vicious cycle will ever meet its end. Doyoung pushes you away by ignoring your existing relationship, but pulls you back into his embrace as if it never happened. You push him away by running off with other men, but come back to him as if he’s the one person you’re loyal to.

But on this particular night, after mass circulation of rumors reaches the ears of the lovesick Slytherin, Doyoung is pulling you away from your huddled group of friends in the middle of the long corridor hallways. Without any greeting, any spoken words, he’s dragging you to his room right in front of everyone to see. His hand around yours like it was two days prior, but with an expression so grave on his sullen face.

The silence between you two brings no comfort, but you don’t dare say the first words. Doyoung, finally, approached you first in public and it is possibly for a greater reason. Perhaps you’ve done something horribly wrong, and the moment you two step into his room that you’ll hear a mouthful.

However when he closes the door to his room, your hand immediately drops from his embrace and he turns to face you. There is a darkness in his eyes, one that light cannot touch, and his lips are tight in a line.

There is an eerie silence that fills the dark room and the murky windows paint the area an ominous green. Doyoung focuses on your confused, yet adorable expression. “Why did you lie to me?”

The door catches your slight stumble and you’re blinking cluelessly at him. “About what?”

“Jaehyun.” He breathes the name in spite and aggressively loosens his tie. “He didn’t blow you off. You rejected him and he’s telling everyone it's because you’re in love with someone else.”

You scorn at such a ridiculous rumor and for the fact that it’s even made its way around to Doyoung. Another realization hits you. All it took for him to approach you in public is a meaningless rumor.

So in response, you laugh and it mocks him further. “This is not a laughing matter, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, but why are you so upset at that? Fine. I did lie to you, but I never told Jaehyun I was in love with anyone else.”

“Are you in love with someone else?” Doyoung says with balled fists at his side. There is a mixture of anger and sadness running through his veins and he’s so sick of feeling this way.

Your hesitation speaks for you, “It’s better that you don’t know.”

“You say this every time and it does nothing to ease my conscience.” Doyoung throws his hands in the air and stares at you with sharp eyes. “Is that why you were afraid that my emblem wouldn’t show up? Because your heart belongs to another. Yeah, I heard Jaehyun wanted to mark you too.”

Men and their constant want to prove something to themselves with their marks. Everyone has a twisted reality of markings now. There have been many others who have tried to mark you, feeling as if lust would be enough to suffice its appearance. As one's Patronus is special to their own protection, a beloved’s Patronus mark holds the same value.

You’re quite at a loss for words, “I was afraid that it wouldn’t show up, not because of myself, but because of you.”

Doyoung points at himself in disbelief. Him? He loves you more than anyone he’s ever encountered, even if you didn’t know it. “I wouldn’t have almost tried it if I wasn’t sure of myself.”

“You don’t love me, Doyoung. I don’t even know if I can even say you romantically like me.” Those words hurt the both of you and it lingers in the room for longer than you’d like.

“Do you think I fuck you meaninglessly like all those other losers you sleep with?” Doyoung steps forward, pulling you into his chest and admiring everything he’s fallen in love with. A pain spreads across his heart as he thinks of you with another person, of someone else kissing you, of someone else making you happy.

“You really don’t feel it in the way I kiss you?” He asks once more and your own stare drops to his shoulder, a bit ashamed to maintain eye contact with such pained eyes.

“And if I did? How would you explain that? That you are actually in love with me?” Your questions pelt him like rocks. As he pushes you on his bed, you pull him down with his tie.

Doyoung drinks you up like fresh water, a crisp and refreshing love that encourages him to reach heights. His hand cups your face and his feather touches reminds you of his gentleness. Your lips taste like sweet honey, dripping and coating him with a sticky sugar.

He’s happier with you and he’s the happiest kissing you. Perhaps, it’s hard for him to express with words, but he’d always hope his actions speak louder. So, his lips press against yours with a whirl of passion and every good feeling that grows in his chest.

The collar of his shirt is wrinkled in your fist and you’re holding him as if you’re afraid of him letting go. Doyoung runs a hand down your torso and lifts the end of your skirt up. A warm hand pushes your legs apart and a finger presses your clit through your cotton panties.

Your mouth opens into a moan and he takes this opportunity to shove his long tongue inside, lapping with your own. As a wet spot forms on your panties, he pulls them to the side and gathers the slick to gently rub your erect clit. His name is lost and muffled in the kiss, but you tap at his chest.

When he breaks away and halts all movement, he looks down over you with a fire burning in his dark orbs. And a confession falls from his swollen lips, “may I mark you?”

“And if it doesn’t show up?” Though, you’re wishing to the most powerful wizards that it does or else your heart would shatter into a million pieces beyond repair.

He bites his lip and every possible outcome scatters his thoughts. It’s too hard to concentrate, so he doesn’t at all. He focuses on your pretty lips and the way you look at him like he’s the only person that matters. “Then, we’ll deal with the consequences later.”

With your quick nod, Doyoung attaches his lips to your neck and harshly sucks at your skin. For the most part, it’s a pleasurable feeling and sends a shiver down your spine. So, he licks and nibbles until he can barely breathe. Your faint scent of patchouli and ginger intoxicates him, wraps him up in a fuzzy coziness that is unmatched.

Your hands unbutton his shirt and a final gentle bite seals his mark. If the love is reciprocated, the emblem would take a moment to form. Doyoung is rather hopeful and excited, as he’s never seen his Patronus before. “You look beautiful.”

“And you look dazed as if someone charmed you.” You giggle and kiss his red lips.

“You’re quite the powerful one, my Puff.” He smiles against your jaw before proceeding to your mess down below. He gives your aching clit a few licks, which cause your body to twist and turn at the sensitive sensation.

“Please, I haven’t felt you in so long.” Whining and tugging at his hair, Doyoung leaves a lasting kiss and gets up to remove his pants.

“Did you miss me?” Doyoung raises a suggestive eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in mockery, a smirk growing on his face.

You reply with a silly response that only he knows and causes him to chuckle, “unfortunately.” And he’s finding every way not to confess his endearments for you.

His dick stands tall and proud against his abdomen, giving it a few jerks as he watches you strip out of your own clothes. You turn around and sit on your knees, with a slight tilt forward and the arch in your back to accentuate your ass.

Doyoung rolls on the protection as quickly as he can. His hands lightly smack your cheeks and slowly enters your dripping hole. His hands grip your hips as he slides deeper into you, both being moaning messes at the delicious feeling.

“Have you always been this big?” You look back at him and to which he devilishly smiles at you.

“You know just the way to fuel my ego,” when his length is fully buried inside of your tight walls, he wraps an arm around your waist and a hand on your tit. “After all the times you’ve been fucked, your pussy is still as tight as ever.”

Doyoung slams hard into you, showing no mercy and causing you to jolt up. He takes every frustration, every feeling of anger, every ounce of jealousy into his thrusts. “But you take me so well, darling. I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.”

His compliments cause your heart to soar, despite the soreness you’re beginning to feel in your pussy. He’s relentless, bottoming out until his tip is practically in your guts. “Just like that, baby. You’re the only one who fucks me this good.”

He blushes under the low light and leans forward to kiss the top of your head. “My Puff, you’re so sweet to me.” The loud squelch of your tight pussy gripping his dick fills the hot room, “and so wet.”

You’re shamelessly dripping on his green velvet blanket and Doyoung picks up his speed. Your knees give out as you fall face forward into the mattress, hands in fists from the incredible pleasure of every hit. Your ass now in his full view and every tingle of magic lights up in his veins.

Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning, Doyoung holds your hips steady to thrust into a new angle. Automatically, your body twitches as his tip hits your special spot and he’s well aware that you’re close to releasing.

And with his fast thrusts, he asks you an intimate question that is fueled by envy and rage. “If I fuck you the best, then why do you sleep with other men?”

There are no thoughts in your mind to even give him a white lie, to mask the truth of your actions. He’s fucking you into an oblivion that it’s hard to even focus on anything besides pleasure. The books on his shelf begin to tremble as you’re crying out, “I- I don’t know! Fuck, please… ! I’m tipping over.”

“Answer the question or I will stop.” He’s absolutely cynical and you have every reason to believe his threat. Doyoung lifts your limp body upright, against his torso and an arm secured around your middle as before. His hand snakes to your clit, rubbing feathering circles over the neglected bud.

Nonetheless, his single action paired with his tip grazing harshly against the particular spot causes your legs to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” His threat rings in your ears when you still left him without an answer.

You’re so close, you’re starting to see white. So, you say what your heart tells you and the truth falls from your lips in a loud confession. “Because I wanted you to love me instead! I fucked them to forget about my love for you… fuck, I’m--”

“I’ve got you. Let go of yourself, baby.” Doyoung slows his hips when your walls squeeze around him sporadically. Every book flies out and hits the opposite wall, clattering the floor with heavy academia. However, he repeats your proclamation endlessly in his mind and his heart surges with the most intense romantic desires.

“I do love you, y/n.” He whispers, cumming into his rubber and simply holding you tightly. He lets go of every prideful arrogance in his body, tossing the lame reputation he always tried to hold onto. He didn’t need that if it meant losing you. Doyoung chuckles to himself for being an obvious cliché, announcing one’s love in the midst of a lustful act. He pulls out and gently tucks you into the covers.

Breathless, you’re finally realizing his confession. “You do? Are you sure?” Any subtle movements has your aching lower half in pain, so you settle with resting on his plush pillows and await for him to join you in bed.

All this time, from beginning to now, you’ve been oblivious to his yearning looks across the Great Hall. The intensity of his kisses had been lost upon you completely as you had convinced yourself that he was incompatibly of loving you back. Even now, as you lay in slight doubt, you’re wondering how you managed to have everything fly over your head. 

When he discards his used protection and with a quick flick of his wrist, every book finds its original place on the shelf again, he enters the warm covers. Your arms wrap around his neck and you’re admiring each other’s expressions in the low light. He spots the notable twinkle in your eyes and his thumb lightly rubs your cheek.

“If the symbol of my Patronus doesn’t show, I promise to love you harder until it does.” Doyoung leaves the softest, most loving kiss on your lips. He’s more than thankful for the lack of light as he’s bashfully red all over his cheeks.

“Usually, people just give up.” Your voice is harsh, possibly from the deafening screaming of pleasure prior.

Doyoung shakes his head. He’s made too many mistakes in this relationship with you. Sleeping with another. Ignoring your existence. Being too prideful to be seen with another house. All these incidents have made him feel nothing but ugliness and distraught, and pushed you away further than how much he is able to pull you back.

He loves you. He’s in love with you. He’s fallen for you recklessly as you did off your broom the first encounter. You’re everything he’s never been and never will be, yet you don’t care. You’re by his side, despite his spitefulness and you never miss a beat. That innocent youth approach to love, oh how he wishes it never faded, and though he thought it did, it didn’t. You remain true to your character when he fights with himself internally.

“That would be a mistake and I can’t afford to keep making them.” A glossy sheen over Doyoung’s regretful eyes, but you pull him closer and you refuse to let his eyes wander.

A tired harmless sigh escapes your lips and a dreamy haze overcomes you. Besides the reminder of needing to use the bathroom flashing in your mind, there is nothing else you want to dissect. Feelings are too complex to discuss at the moment and the resolve has already passed.

Regardless of the marks appearing, you’re content with the night and for the rest of your days. Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, loves you back and the power of that alone beats any spell in those dusty old textbooks.

“Why can’t we lay here forever?” Your heavy eyelids fall slowly and your voice grows small.

Doyoung kisses your shoulder, then your neck. “That’s impossible. I can’t give you forever.” He mumbles against your skin, sending vibrations across your throat.

“You are my forever.” Doyoung halts and is left speechless as a white glowing entity catches his eye. And the absolute perfect outline of his Patronus sits underneath your jaw, brightly shining with iridescent brilliance --- he makes out the outline: a White Swan, representing his love for you. Doyoung smiles to himself and hopes for it to never fade. Perhaps, he can give you forever.

some fun critical questions to think about hehe -

why do you think y/n lied to doyoung about jaehyun confessing? why do you think yuta helped y/n enter the Slytherin dormitories? what is the meaning behind the White Swan Patronus? Why do you think y/n continued to like doyoung after all this time?

there are no right or wrong answers, just something fun to have you thinking a little more about the fic haha if you want, you can send me an ask about it :) but overall, no pressure and thank you for reading! please leave me some feedback if you can! happy new year!

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#neosmutcollective #nct-writers #neowritingsnet #kpopscape #neothestars #nct scenarios #nct smut #doyoung scenarios #doyoung smut #nct imagines #doyoung #kim doyoung #doyoung x reader #nct hogwarts au

[allthingsarmin]

armin with a bimbo gf?

TW: NSFW! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 

REQUESTS ARE OPEN ~

Ft. Bimbofication, manipulation, sex, and other topics alike!

Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader

Thank you for your request, anon! I hope you like what I wrote, and please feel free to request more.

(I am HERE for this Armin brain-rot lmao! I love reading fanfictions/headcanons like these).

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Armin with a bimbo gf:

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin is a very polite man: always making sure you go to bed on time, putting your dead phone on the charger when you fall asleep with it in your hands, reminding you to drink water throughout the day, always lets you spend his own money on something you want, and kissing and massaging your forehead when you have a headache. He is so genuine and wouldn’t do things like this for just anyone.

ᵔᴥᵔ However, there’s a dark side to him where he can’t possibly deny how much he enjoys his dumb, empty-headed bimbo girlfriend. The way your hair is always done-up and suffocating from hairspray, the way your lips are always glossy with your favorite red cherry lip gloss, the way your short skirts and low-cut shirts show off your perfect figure, the way your perfum smells like roses and cheap sex, your intense sweetness and life-or-death dependency towards Armin, your fake innocence when you look at him with tears and ruined mascara running down your face, they way you can’t hide your wetness when he forcibly touches you in public… it makes Armin’s body tingle and cock hard. It brings out a dominant side to him that is inescapable as he manipulates your mind and pussy with thoughts only of him and his cock.

ᵔᴥᵔ He loves how there are literally no useful or smart thoughts going through that little head of yours. He thinks it’s so cute how you play with your hair, chewing gum, breasts nearly spilling out of your shirt while you sit in his lap, head empty, trusting him when you’re completely vulnerable. He loves it because he can so easily take advantage of you.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin is a master manipulator. So intensely and quickly does he break you down so that you’re only able to think about taking his large cock into your pathetically wet cunt and sweet mouth. This way, he can practically slide into you whenever and wherever he wants:

Laying on the bed and playing your game console? Armin wants you to keep playing the game and desperately try to win while he’s teasing your needy entrance with his fingers which were previously thrusted into your whiny mouth.

In the shower trying to get clean? He sneakily joins you, gently pushing your back against the cold shower walls and eagerly lifting up your chin so that you can look into his kind yet menacing blue eyes. “Let me help you,” he offers while reaching for the body wash and proceeding to tenderly massage it into your breasts, purposely flicking over your nipples. “Right now?” you whine already tired from the previous sex sessions earlier today, (but you can’t deny that you’re already excited because he’s literally the only thing your brain thinks about). With his free hand, he suddenly thrusts a finger into your soft cunt. “It’s lamentable how wet you already are for me,” he coos, excited to know that he really has done a good job manipulating that little brain of yours. You whine and grip onto Armin’s toned upper arms. He kisses your forehead, the water and sweat making his golden hair stick to him. The heat from the flowing water and from Armin’s body is making you go crazy as you prepare for your velvety walls to get pounded once more.

Trying to study for an upcoming test? Armin continuously distracts you: “Baby, you’re no use for stuff like this,” he says pointing to your textbook, “why don’t you focus on being pretty, yeah?” He rubs your thigh and crouches down next to you, politely opening your legs with an arrogant grin on his face, slightly taken aback by the fact that you weren’t wearing underwear under your short skirt but definitely not surprised considering what an air-headed whore you are. He dives in between your thighs, attacking your clit with his tongue, not letting you pull away and eagerly waiting to hear your pathetic moans.

ᵔᴥᵔ He thinks it’s so hilariously adorable when you walk into his office and offer to help him with his work.

“Hahaha,” he laughs, feeling pity for you. He pulls you into a warm hug and kisses your forehead. “My work is too difficult for someone like you, baby,” he says as he pats your empty head. “Why don’t you go to the bedroom and play your game? I’ll be there soon.” He smiles innocently, making his eyes wrinkle on the sides. ‘He is beautiful,’ you think. His soft blond hair and his kind, ocean blue eyes. You really are so stupid, being tricked by his angelic appearance. When he finally comes to the bedroom, his smile is somewhat sinister, and his eyes have gone dark.

ᵔᴥᵔ Lets you dress slutty in public for two reasons: He likes to see the jealous looks from other perverted men seeing that you are in fact Armin’s slut… and he can use the fact you dress slutty in public against you while he’s fucking you.

“You’re such a whore… trying to get other mens’ attention in public.” His right hand is clenching your frail neck, and he forces you to maintain eye contact with him as you tell him it's not true and that he's the only one you want.

ᵔᴥᵔ Likes it when you wear your hair in tight pigtails - that way he can hold onto them while he’s fucking you from behind ᵔᴥᵔ Really likes missionary position - he likes to grip your neck so that you can maintain eye contact with him as your dolled-up face pleasurably contorts, lips drooling with saliva, tears that eat away at your mascara as he’s cruelly pumping in and out of you. He likes to thrust unbearably slow when he wants to hear you whine and complain about needing more - then, he can degrade you and call you an ungrateful whore. Also likes to suddenly go fast to hear you loudly gasp and incoherently babble as you powerfully squirt on his cock. No matter how many orgasms, your mind and pussy only think of and need more of him. ᵔᴥᵔ Armin also really likes it when you ride his cock. This way he can watch your breasts violently bounce up and down as well as tease your nipples right when you’re on the edge. Loves to see how desperately you squirm when you’re sitting upright on his cock, begging for more stimulation. You like this position too. You can see how blushed Armin’s sweet face is, how his chest quickly rises and falls, and how the muscles in his arms are tensed up.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin loves when you give him oral. He loves seeing your once beautifully done hair become a complete tangly mess as he grips onto it and forces his cock inside your mouth. Loves to hear that ‘pop’ sound when you finally pull your glossy, pink lips off of his thick, blushed cock. Is all about eye-contact when you give him oral. He likes to see your face become sprinkled with tears as he pushes his cock deep into the back of your throat - the desperation in your eyes during this moment while you look at him nearly makes him go feral.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin also really loves to overstimulate you, especially because he can take advantage of you during these moments. By the time you’ve calmed from your orgasm, you are completely fucked dumb, head even emptier if at all possible, eyes rolled to the back of your head, whimpering at the slightest movement, only thinking about Armin, his angelic face, and his sweet, brutal cock. You’re already so tired from your last orgasm, but he takes this chance to start rubbing your clit again. As you jerk away from the painful sensation, he laughs, continuing his slow, unbearable rubbing. You beg him to stop, and Armin becomes angry. “Oh, you want me to stop? Am I not good enough for you? Not good enough at making a dumb whore like you feel good? I guess I’ll leave now.” He immediately pulls away, rudely turning his head away from you. His blond hair is nearly covering his deep blue eyes which are spilling with fake tears in hopes that he can manipulate you with fear and pity. As you apologize for your selfish behavior and beg him to stay, he darkly grins and harshly pats your sensitive pussy. “That’s what I thought,” he coos laughingly, going back to abuse your wet cunt.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin also really likes to edge you, and he never lets you cum without his permission. He likes to sit you up on the bed, spread your legs, and tease your throbbing clit with his thumb. He can see sweat begin to coat your forehead, your cheeks dust with redness, and your glossy lips become lined with drool as your breasts are exposed and spilling out of your bralette. Still circling your clit with his thumb, he gets really close to your ear - his blond hair tickling you - and asks you if you want to cum. His beautiful blue eyes sparkle as he laughs when you only respond with whimpering and incoherent words. As you needily buck your hips against his thumb, he knows he has succeeded in manipulating you to become a useless, empty-headed slut with thoughts only of him.

ᵔᴥᵔ Though the relationship dynamic you have with Armin might seem intense, he’s an actual sweetheart. Aftercare with him is the best: you both take a warm bath together, he brushes your hair, massages your back, and kisses your forehead while thanking you for letting him enter your body. He always cuddles you before bed, holding you tightly and kissing your forehead. Not only that, but he honestly just really cares about you. He reminds you to drink water, tells you not to eat too many sweets, makes sure you exercise and that your period is regular, reads to you, and asks you to tell him about your day… and he never ever forgets to slip in a few “I love you”s while you two make love. Armin also loves to buy you things from flowers to hair ties or anything else you want. He just wants to make you smile because you make him smile. Overall, this man will never let his bimbo girlfriend down whether it’s sex or love.

#armin arlert #armin x reader #aot x reader #tw bimbofication #aot smut #armin smut #anime

[miraeluc]

you have an anxiety attack

prompt: “after a long day you’re just trying to cook for you and your roommate, but when you accidentally switch salt and sugar the stress dawns upon you and you lose it.”

pairing: kaeya x gender-neutral reader

warnings: description of an anxiety attack, explicit language

word count: 1.6k

genre: fluff, angst

rough day? 

no

roughest of the rough 

it started in the morning - all was good until you were all dressed and ready to go

all you needed to do was brush your teeth

of course you dropped toothpaste on your new blouse and had to change because your boss would literally kill you if you strutted in there with toothpaste stains on your clothing 

that didn’t upset you too much anyway,, yep, it kinda sucks but it is what it is

you went to work

that’s when it started to REALLY go downhill

first, you had to sit your ass in this tiny cubicle all day and it remained right on that chair every time you stood up

that’s what it felt like at least

then, you lost data that you’ve been working on for a MONTH

an entire month’s worth data!!!! LOST!!!!

curse you and your issue with forgetting where you put your folders

so you started over

was it worth it? 

no

your boss hated it

you ended up dropping the project overall,, handed it over to a co-worker

your excuse was that you felt too ‘unfit’ for the whole project and he would totally be a better fit!

poor bennett 

bennett is a nice guy, you always hang out with him during break

you usually talk shit about the other co-workers and he just listens and sits there like ◕ ◡ ◕

he’s just there for the food you bring him, really 

he’s a little dumb so he took the project from you with no hesitation

“i’ll do it for you, dont even worry about it, y/n!”

you ended up working overtime 

you had about 7 projects to finish until tomorrow morning and they were all only half-done 

so you got your coffee, turned off your phone and got to work

you finished at 9pm

your work hours are 8am-5:30pm

nope, not having a great time 

well, at least you can go home now!

you pack up your stuff and get up, leaving this hellhole of an office, stretching as you wait for the elevator before checking your phone to see 7 missed calls from your roommate

aka kaeya

aka boy that is most likely emotionally unavailable

aka boy that KEEPS TURNING OFF THE HEATERS TO LEAVE YOU TO FREEZE

his excuse is always that he can’t handle the warmth but you’re sure its so you whine about the cold so he can hug you to warm you up

maybe you have a teeny tiny crush on him???? BUT WHO CAN BLAME YOU 

he’s a whole package - the only thing he’s lacking is emotional availability lmao

which is why you never mentioned the day by day blooming feelings you’ve been developing for him

there would be no positive outcome from you telling him. he would politely turn you down, having to explain yet again that he doesn’t see himself having actual romantic feelings to someone 

you’re content with your current relationship with him

right?

kaeya is known as the fuckboy! of the city

neither of you mind, he’s having his fun

and you know that there’s much more to it 

you’re very happy to have gained his trust enough for him to let his flirty side down when with you, at least

well, there’s no time to ponder over your relationship with him because you’re already sprinting to catch the last bus of the day

right as you got to the station it drove away

fuck

what now?

you have to walk home. alone. in the dark.

oh well. 

usually bennett drives you home but obviously he left earlier

its only a 15 minute walk you can do it

it’s not that bad there’s street lamps hey!

not that bad until it starts to rain, apparently

by the time you get home there’s water in places rainwater shouldn’t be

kaeya is running by the time he hears the front door

“where were you??”

“why didn’t you reply to my calls??”

“do you have a slight idea about how worried i w-”

he stops when he sees your soaked figure and tired expression

“oh, y/n, what happened?” 

he immediately helped you chuck off your wet coat and shoes 

“i worked overtime and missed the last bus so i had to walk home”, you sighed

he nodded and hummed “Go ahead and take a shower then, wouldn’t want you to get sick now, would we?” he winked

you scoffed but nodded anyway

 “yeah, especially in this coLD FUCKING APARTMENT BECAUSE YOU REFUSE TO LET THE HEATERS TURNED ON-”

you only heard him laugh before shutting the door in the bathroom and jumping into the shower, needing to warm up because you were sure your toes were about to fall off from the cold

at least the shower went well

:///

you got dressed in lounge attire when you got out of the shower, walking to the kitchen because you were very hungry

you gave bennett all your food today so you didnt have any left

he just looked so hungry

ANYWAYS

you’re in the kitchen, deciding on what to cook

if you ask kaeya he will tell you to just drink wine instead so, no

you kind of want something sweet so you decide to bake cupcakes

kaeya shows up too

“what’re you baking?”

he sat and watched as you gathered all the ingredients you need

“cupcakes. how was your day?”

you strike up a conversation - all you talked about today was work and you need some decent interaction, plus kaeya is a super nice talk partner

“good. i had a day-off today so i layed in bed all day”

you hummed, stirring the eggs and flour 

“how come? you never get off”

“no reason, i was forcibly given a day off- well anyways, what i wanted to tell you about before you worried me because i thoght you were deAD when you didn’t respond, is that i need your help setting up a date for diluc-”

you stopped listening halfway

you were looking at the unopened sugar bag on the counter

you just stirred the sugar in, why is it unopened????

you look over at the open bag of salt

wait a second 

you take out a little dough and taste it

FUCK

“hello??? earth to y/n?? are you even liste-”

he stops himself as soon as you look at him with your lower lip trembling 

uhhhhh

he’s never been in this situation

“y/n?? why are you crying-”

he looks at the counter and the dough, then he sees the salt beside the bowl you were stirring in and leans over to try some

oh, that’s why

“oh come on, is that what you’re crying over?” he snorted

he could barely catch you when you collapsed and started sobbing 

he immediately regreted what he said

“hey, y/n, it’s just a little dough! its okay-” 

you just sobbed and he sat down with you, sighing and pulling you into a tight hug

you felt your lungs constricting and your hands started shaking 

you didn’t even notice how antsy you felt all day until now

you gasped for air and he tightened his grip on you

“w-why am i so worthless?!”

you punched his chest

“i can’t do a single thi-ng with-out messing it up!”

punch

“i’m so us-useless”

punch

“i should just kill m-”

he immediately pulled away and cupped your face before you could finish what you were about to say

“y/n, look at me. you had a bad day - you’re not useless! you’re stressed out! you’re one of the most hardworking people that i know- and, and don’t you ever mention anything about killing yourself! i won’t let you go, not as long as im here”

you were too busy fighting against the constricting feeling in your lungs to notice the tear slipping down his cheek before he hugged you tightly again

your hands gripped at his tshirt

his hand rested over your shaky ones

it broke him

seeing you in such state hurt him so much, he felt his own heart breaking a little with every gasp you took 

“come on, let’s breathe together”

his voice was soft when he spoke to you

he took a deep breath in, you following

you wrapped your arms around him and leaned your head against his chest when breathing out 

hearing his heartbeat made you feel safe

he kept breathing with you until he was more than sure you could breathe comfortably again 

why did he feel like this?

sure, flirting with girls is fun 

and ghosting them is also fun

he usually doesn’t care about hurting them

but why does he feel the need to protect you from all bad things?

and why does your pain hurt him too?

he sighs and shakes his head as if that would clear his mind 

(it doesn’t)

oh well. 

taking care of your needs is more important right now

he picks you up and walks over to the couch, sitting down, placing you on his lap and hugging you 

“you’re not cooking anything, we’ll order takeout.”

you sniffled and nodded 

you did feel your heart flutter a little when he sat you down on him

he’s never done that 

you ignore it and reside into the warmth he gives instead, nuzzling your face into his chest 

he smiles softly and strokes your hair, using his free hand to type in what you were ordering

you both fell into a comfortable silence

at some point he thought you fell asleep lol

“kaeya?”

he rose his brows a little and looked down, humming

“thank you.”

additional notes: welp. this was my first drabble! it was very fun to write and i genuinely look forward to writing more! i’d appreciate it alot if you leave any feedback or even requests for drabbles :-)

#kaeya #kaeya x reader #anxiety #anxiety attack #angst #fluff #diluc #bennett #genshin impact #kaeya alberich #gender neutral s/o #genshin impact x reader #kaeya scenario #genshin impact scenarios #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya fluff #kaeya angst #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff

[lavenderek]

Why were you disappointed by the Howl's Moving Castle movie? I think I read the book years ago, but I don't remember much about it

i'm gonna critique the gibbly movie and it's my understanding that it's a special movie for a lot of people so if that's you feel free to skip this one

so i was delighted and enchanted by the book, which has only twice to date not made the movie a devastating letdown, so my dear friend sending me this book was pretty much signing a contract in her own blood accepting that i would be cranky about the movie. i'm not really a ghibli person either, like i can appreciate the artistry and value in them, and i'll watch it if the people i'm with really need to watch princess mononoke or whatever, but i just don't go out of my way to watch them. (i like reading meta about spirited away, though.)

i did go out of my way to watch this one because i loved the book so much.

it's important to remember the culture in which the movie was made as opposed to the culture in which the book was made. howl is welsh, if that says anything to you. (his name is howell, and he adopted the name howl to run from himself and seem more magical. i love him and movie howl had none of those elements except for when he told us he was a coward and i was like. ok lol, i'll jot that down because i didn't see it in the text)

so i'm not necessarily surprised by the creative changes they made, but i am confused, because those changes drastically affect the characterization, the character motivations, and the pacing of the story.

(i also was only able to get my hands on the dub and i loathe and detest christian bale as howl lmfao but that's subjective)

so first of all, does movie sophie, like, want anything? she's flawless as a character. even though she has a completely different personality as an old lady than she does as a young lady, there's nothing wrong with her. everybody is fond of her, she's shy, she's gentle, she's beautiful, and she's kind, and her only motivation in the whole movie is this vague desire to cure the curse, but even then she doesn't work on it much at all. her life before howl is about being buffeted around like a leaf in the wind, and her life after howl is about being buffeted around like a cow in a twister. sophie in the movie is a blank slate. she is insecure about her looks (seriously, they couldn't even give her like a crooked nose or something, only doll-faced, thin, pale women over here), and her confessing this and crying about it for about four seconds was the first truly deep emotional response i had seen of her. i cried when she cried, who doesn't grapple with feelings of inadequacy? then the kid came out and she was like, okay, i'm done being upset now :)

second of all, howl is a little eccentric, but mostly he's just a glorious gentleman who has a messy room and one (1) overly dramatic depressive episode. it was disturbing to me as a viewer because it was violent and came out of nowhere, and it never comes back again lmao. it was so bizarre, he's introduced as this suave, debonair man in a cape, and he stays that way the entire movie, except for a weird moment in the middle where he screams at sophie naked and then lists the character flaws that we the viewers have never witnessed. why does he like sophie? why does sophie like him?

why did they turn michael into a child? i just don't see what that added to the story lmao. i get them taking out the complexity of secrets involving sophie's decidedly interchangeable sisters and their mystery beaus, it's a lot to fit into a little movie; but like, why did they turn him into a child though lmao

there's a lot of fatphobia in the movie too.

the change that upset me the most, though, was that the element of sophie having the ability to influence things without her knowledge was totally abandoned. like i said, things just sort of happen to her. in the book, her hats are the most lovely because she's inadvertently cast spells on them to make whoever wears them seem alluring or mysterious to people. the witch curses her because she recognizes these little spells and believes sophie's trying and failing to trick her (and also because sophie snaps at her lmao, why is movie sophie only an asshole when she's old? leave my daughter alone).

book sophie unknowingly protects howl by worrying over his cape (which she previously shredded because she got mad at him, i love her), she unknowingly enchants the scarecrow by helping it stand and complimenting it. she does that the entire book. she also starts the book already feeling sort of dull and trapped, and spends the story trying desperately to solve mysteries and protect loved ones. movie sophie doesn't like, sit around and knit demurely, don't get me wrong; but all the major plot points are things that howl makes happen to her lol.

i think the scarecrow is an excellent representation of book sophie's inner struggles. it's something she inadvertently enchanted, and she doesn't understand it, so she runs from it. she's terrified of the thing. in that way it kind of stands in for her own agency: only when she was forcibly in disguise did she feel free to find out what she wants her life to look like, and that kind of power is foreign and frightening to her. i loved that for her.

and very late in the book, howl reveals that he knew all along she was under a spell, that he tried to get rid of it out of curiosity (book howl doesn't seem to notice that he's just as imperious and nosy as sophie is), but she resisted it. he couldn't get the spell off. so he assumed she wanted to stay that way and let her be about it. so basically it's very huck finn on the raft, she realizes that in running to get away, she was already away. she had that agency all along.

all of that was missing from movie sophie. the idea of her inadvertently hanging on to the curse is still there, we see that she sort of fades back to her young self while she's asleep (not the case in the book, we know this because howl doesn't know what she looks like until she turns back in the end); but she doesn't seem to gain any knowledge about herself because of this. the only time she seems to have any personal drive, it's to learn about and help howl. her inner struggles are about howl. and i hated movie howl lmao, i hated his design and i hated his voice and i hated how like, patronizing he was to everyone around him. book howl was a condescending dick at times and just weird and distant at others, but he never came across like he was absolutely positive he was seducing sophie at any given moment. it was clear that he was the star of the movie and sophie was just the audience stand in to be like 🤩🥸🧐

the scarecrow who is a prince was the most hilariously egregious moment in the entire movie. in the book, the missing prince is introduced as a plot in the beginning and is referenced repeatedly throughout. and he's a major player in the climax. in the movie, it's the last like five minutes of the film and the scarecrow turns into a dapper boy with bread for hair and is like, "you've cured me! i'm a prince who went missing from a nearby kingdom and i was cursed but now i'm free." and i was like NICE, so we just found out there's a nearby kingdom that has a prince who's been missing. love that for us

the book had a lot of themes that i don't often encounter in fantasy novels - themes of female agency, of disguise, and of chaos. the chaos is my favorite part, every chapter is equally chaotic at various levels. you'll have michael fretting over some spell, sophie fretting over her own spell, howl trying to get someone in disguise to fall in love with him, THAT someone pining over michael, and all the while sophie and howl are bickering because she is cleaning (it seems like she cleans to clean up her mind) and he doesnt want her to (he is afraid of change and of reality), and he needs a huge favor of her, and she needs to wheedle out of it, and she promised calcifer she would free him, and calcifer is repeatedly promising to die of not being appreciated enough, and everybody is having three arguments at once. it's like that in every chapter, culminating in the moment howl and sophie realize they're in love, and they stand clasping hands and sort of smiling at each other in the middle of a room full of panicking and perplexed people just yelling over each other lmfao. surrounded by chaos and no longer thrown by it, rooted there in the middle of it, stabilizing each other in a way. i loved that. i actually flipped back a few pages so i could read that moment again.

and it seemed to me that the movie tried to imply that with visual chaos, but everything else was really quite linear and simple. everything was very airy. and since the conflama and the general atmosphere and character dynamics of the book is what made me fall in love with it, the movie didn't work for me.

tumblr user door pointed out that the book and the movie are extremely different and she appreciates them both as separate entities, and she's wise and correct; i knew this and i tried so hard to engage with the movie on its own terms. but i couldn't divorce them in my mind. i felt the same way about ella enchanted and practical magic. i cant stop thinking like, i wish they hadn't gotten rid of x, i wish they hadn't added this weird element of y.

also it was boring. i checked to see how much more was left three times. sorry. i can't express enough how little i cared about the plot with the witch and somebody's secretly evil boss and time traveling to yell at howl or something, because i didn't connect with the characters. and the feathers growing out of howl triggered my weird phobia about things being embedded in skin. i'm skeeved just remembering it.

anyway, yeah. the movie was beautifully animated and whatever atmosphere they were going for was pretty consistent throughout. oh and i LOVED calcifer. he was my favorite in both the book and the movie. in fact, he was the only character in the movie who they didn't really change, he was petty and bitchy in both versions. i loved him. he's like, "SHE FED ME SOMETHING YUCKY" my perfect, horrible boy.

oh and. book sophie was a redhead. that's all.

after i finished the book i tried to draw how imagined them:

couldn't finish it though, i wasn't super jazzed about how it was coming out.

she's sitting in like, a window well altering a coat of his without permission. and he's like, i guess i'll have to wear this one instead, and she's like, i guess you will

#haters #who is this even #long post #howell's mobile home #talking out of my ass

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 271: My Hero Tokodemia

Previously on BnHA: Mic was all “goodbye X-Less don’t do anything I wouldn’t do” and just LEFT him with Tomura, like. ???! X-Less was all “I’m gonna sit here and do nothing and wait to die.” Ujiko was all “this has nothing to do with ANYTHING but I just want you to know that I conspired to murder your husband 15 years ago and ended up killing his best friend instead!” Tomura was all “what up bitches I’m in this chapter too” and had trippy dreams about hands and buildings and his family was there and also All for One (the dude)! Because guess what, Tomura has All For One (the quirk) now! Because AFO gave it to him! So yeah! And now he’s waking up, and Deku can apparently feel it happening because he’s a horcrux probably, and so basically everything is FINALLY GOING TO SHIT AND IT’S ABOUT TIME BUT ALSO AHHHHH.

Today on BnHA: SHIGARAKI WHO TOMURA WHAT. Back to Gunga Mountain! So Dabi is all “you do know your beloved mentor just killed a guy right?” and Toko is all “!!” and Dabi is all “SO THAT MAKES HIM THE WORST CRIMINAL OF ALL!” and, WITHOUT THE SLIGHTEST HINT OF IRONY, IMMEDIATELY follows up this bold statement by TRYING TO BURN A CHILD ALIVE. Anyway so this is why Dabi wasn’t the keynote speaker at the “murder is bad” convention though. So most of the chapter is like this, with Dabi (albeit somewhat halfheartedly) trying to set Toko on fire while Toko desperately tries to keep between him and Hawks. Eventually though, Dabi is confusingly thwarted by Otter Pops, making his triumphant return and spraying a bunch of ice just every which way because things weren’t chaotic enough I guess! And then the chapter ends with everyone’s favorite Guy They Hoped Wouldn’t Be Waking Up In This Arc, Gigantomachia, waking up!! :’) :’) :’) etc you get it.

okay so I am please to clarify that the spoilers I received were not actually all that big of a deal, and that pretty much all I know is that we’re cutting back to Dabi and Tokoyami probably, and there’s a good chance we might not even see Tomura at all this chapter in spite of last week’s cliffhanger. so even if I’d have preferred not to know that up front, it’s all good! though I will say Horikoshi has a real knack for cutting away from things right when you’re at your most invested though. reminds me of what it was like reading Lord of the Rings for the first time. “nooo I don’t want to cut back to Frodo -- WAIT WHAT’S GOING ON -- NO I DON’T WANT TO CUT BACK TO MERRY AND PIPPIN DAMMIT -- WAIT WHAT”

anyways! lol guys guess what

so then! those spoilers did indeed have the ring of truth! well this should be interesting

lmao he’s forcibly clawing his way out of Fat’s belly via aggressive use of Dark Shadow oh damn

oh man you guys. time to catalog some feels

Fatgum you do realize you were in the running for #2 hero but have now bled serious points by letting a child run back into danger and doing absolutely nothing to stop him! although to be fair you do have other children to protect, and this one child also should not have been able to do what he just did! and also Child Endangerment is U.A.’s unofficial motto and you didn’t even go to U.A. but you would fit right in though let me tell you. but anyway so the point is this isn’t really anything new, but still

HIS BODY JUST MOVED BEFORE HE COULD THINK ahhhh Toko. THIS IS YOUR MOMENT!! THE MY HERO TOKODEMIA ARC BEGINS NOW

I hope we get a followup panel of Kaminari freaking out and trying to go after his pal (but not actually succeeding though, because I swear to god Fatgum, if you fuck this up again all of my remaining goodwill is just gonna fly right out the window. and it’s a lot of goodwill too! but we don’t screw around when it comes to children’s safety!!). just would be a nice touch! ah well if they don’t show it I’ll just headcanon it

last but not least, it’s also worth noting that while I love how brave and selfless and concerned for his mentor’s wellbeing Tokoyami is here, this was still an incredibly stupid move on his part! least of all because he actually had no idea that Hawks truly was in danger. is it weird to say he lucked out? “you’re so fortunate your teacher actually was being burned alive you reckless little goose!” but like, you know what I mean though right

anyway

-- oh they are showing it!!

YAY HE IS A GOOD BOY. THAT IS ALL. CARRY ON

Toko’s shouting over his shoulder that Hawks is “probably” in trouble. for fuck’s

I mean yeah, it’s probably just some gut instinct which funnily enough happens to be absolutely right. but I’m sorry you guys, there’s just this small part of me that just can’t get over the fact that he briefly saw Hawks flying for all of .2 seconds, and saw some flames, and just IMMEDIATELY leapt to the worst-case-scenario conclusion. you know what this is? it’s the decision-making process of a kid who is actually WAY more powerful than we’ve been giving him credit for. enough so that his self-preservation instincts don’t even kick in at all because it doesn’t even occur to him how dangerous of a move this is. goddammit Tokoyami. you kids think you’re all grown up now and ffff just please be safe

and okay, I’ll give Fatgum some benefit of the doubt for just letting that happen because apparently this is literally the first and only time

seems he didn’t even think it was possible up until now. so that’s fair

OKAY YOU KNOW WHAT FATGUM YOU ARE REDEEMED

THAT’S RIGHT!! YOU DON’T JUST UP AND LEAVE THE FATAXI WHENEVER YOU FUCKING FEEL LIKE IT. FARE DODGERS WILL BE PROSECUTED TO THE FULL EXTENT OF THE LAW!!

so he’s immediately following after him, but is smart enough not to put the other kids in danger! good split-second decision-making there. certain other people in this chapter could take notes! and of course my one fear now though is that the other three children will not listen to him at all, but you know what, let’s deal with one thing at a time

hmmm

dammit Horikoshi, what...?? you really like to toe the lines of what is and isn’t problematic huh? literally if you wanted to go for a cool barbarian look all you had to do was stick with the same kind of costume scheme you had going in the second and fourth popularity polls. but no, you had to go and give him a fucking war bonnet. was that one guy back in the Hero Killer arc not enough. at least this is only a cover page, sigh

also I see that Tokoyami was asked to name his own feature chapter. I’m just happy that he’s happy

would you fucking look at this

first of all, why is Dabi suddenly twenty feet away from them. and second, would you just look at how ridiculously intact Hawks fucking is. Dabi really was microwaving him on the defrost setting only huh

so now everyone’s just looking at each other. sizin’ each other up and stuff

yeah no shit it’s bad. you rushed in thinking you could somehow handle a situation which had even the second strongest guy on the ropes. and handle it alone, no less. lord help me why are the bravest ones also always the most stupid

EEP

HIS WINGS??? also his fucking BACK jesus christ. meaning he’s completely immobile for now at best, and probably soon to be in critical condition and going into shock if he isn’t already. okay so maybe it wasn’t just the defrost setting, fuck. Hawkssss 8|

oh???????

holy shit. an opportunity to actually find out how much of a bastard Dabi actually is?? we of course know he had no problem whatsoever with kidnapping a kid back in the day. but would he go so far as to seriously fight and/or try to kill one? a kid who’s no older than your little brother?? oh gosh oh golly oh intrigue

I literally have not made up my mind on Dabi redemption one way or the other, just to be clear (he’s just been too mysterious up till now and I feel like I don’t know enough), so I am super curious to see how this plays out so I can finally form an opinion!

OH SNAP

SCORE ONE FOR “HE MAY BE AN A-HOLE, BUT HE’S NOT, AND I QUOTE, 100% A DICK”? MAYBE?? but on the other hand he’s definitely not just gonna let Hawks go either so ahhhh???

(ETA: so it seems we’ve arrived at a solid “mildly bastardish!” idk. it definitely seems to me like he’s trying not to murder this teenager for no good reason. ironically he’s in much the same position here that Hawks was less than a dozen chapters ago; facing against someone who’s just trying to protect his friend, and trying to talk him down at first, but then attacking once it’s clear that he’s not going to back off. ah well. still as morally gray as ever.)

ah I see, we’re gonna start by shattering his naive illusions!

(ETA: fucking christ, the scan is so dark I didn’t even notice Twice’s charred corpse just LYING THERE IN THE BACKGROUND the first time I read this. and now that I have noticed it, I would just like to say, sincerely, what the fuck.)

welp, there it is. finally the kids are getting properly involved in this arc, and AS EXPECTED, they are promptly being traumatized. oh Toko ;_;

Dabi this speech you’re making would feel more original if literal scores of tumblrs hadn’t spent the last two months exhaustively analyzing every single last possible angle of this debate lol. everyone has already made up their minds on the “is Hawks worth saving” controversy one way or the other but okay sure, go ahead and throw your hat into the ring too

lmao whaaaaaaat. “as a last resort, after his attempts to take him peacefully were thwarted, Hawks killed a man so as to prevent that man from killing countless others during our coup to take over the country because our boss wants to destroy everything. clearly, Hawks is the worst out of everyone else involved in this equation!” now that! is a take! lol

OH NO OH GOD

“PEW PEW PEW ENJOY THOSE FEELS” HORIKOSHI WHOOPS WHILE SHOOTING LASER GUN FINGERS AT ME, AND HEY, NOW

HEY, I SAID!!!

WHAT THE FUCK -- WHAT EVEN IS THE FUCKING SCREENPLAY FOR THIS THING?? “A BARELY-CONSCIOUS HAWKS MURMURS HIS STUDENT’S NAME WITH AN ACHINGLY WEARY LOOK OF SHAME AND REGRET! AS DABI LOOKS ON, TOKOYAMI GENTLY LIFTS HIS FALLEN MASTER AND WRAPS HIS CAPE AROUND HIS BACK, LOOKING OVERWHELMED, BUT DETERMINED. TOKOYAMI: I’M JUST... CONCERNED FOR MY TEACHER.” who the fuck wrote this shit and how much pleasure were they taking in ripping my heart out and violently slamming it against the wall

sob, and unfortunately Dabi doesn’t look particularly moved himself by any of this

DAMMIT DABI PLEASE RESPECT THEIR PRIVACY DURING THIS DIFFICULT TIME. GO AWAY AND HAVE YOUR REVENGE SOME OTHER DAY GODDAMMIT

DABI!!

Dabi I swear to god!! if you seriously try and burn my gothbird son I will...

DABI WHAT DID I JUST FUCKING SAY. LEAVE THE KID ALONE

Tokoyami... sweetie...

IF ONLY YOU COULD JUST. fly back out?? the exact same way you came??? if only that was a thing you could do??? or can he not fly while he’s carrying another person, maybe? dammit I forget

?!

wait what?? is he implying that Dabi isn’t seriously trying to kill them yet? is that what this is? I should just read on since this is clearly only the first part of something longer that he’s saying and I have to stop this bad habit of trying to analyze half a sentence before I go on and read the rest of the sentence

well whatever it is, he’s absolutely right; Dabi as it turns out is still standing there 25 feet away like a social distance champ, monologuing from afar

this panel gets more hilarious to me the longer I stare at it you guys. someone please make a comic where Hawks is all “he’s still talking...” and Toko looks to see Dabi RAMBLING ON and slowly inches further and further away while Dabi completely fails to take any notice lmao

so Tokoyami is just staring back, and then suddenly he’s all “orders from Hawks!” which I think is just him asking Hawks what to do now??

and fucking look at this lol

“just slowly inch away while he’s monologuing. I just found out he’s secretly a Todoroki so now I know his weakness: he will literally drop dead before he ever stops being dramatic”

OH MY GOD

ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS ISN’T A JOKE AND THAT’S HIS ACTUAL WEAKNESS LMAO. HAVE WE CROSSED PLANES INTO SOME KIND OF SATIRICAL REALITY. WHAT IS HAPPENING

LMAO OKAY NO HAWKS IS SAYING THAT DABI IS JUST BULLSHITTING THEM BECAUSE HE’S USED UP ALL HIS FLAMES OR SOME SHIT. LOL OKAY THEN. ALL I HEARD WAS “HE WASN’T ABLE TO FUCKING KILL ME BECAUSE HE NEVER SHUTS THE FUCK UP.” WHERE IS THE LIE

OH SNAP THERE HE GOES

he is running away in the background, right?? Dark Shadow is just a distraction? you better not be seriously trying to fight him oh god please be smart about this

okay yes good!!

bringing back some unpleasant memories of the last guy who took a tumble off this balcony, but whatever! I’m sure he’s got some kind of plan in mind here

yep okay so he’s using Dark Shadow as a bungee cord

Hawks is so fucking short he somehow looks the same size as this little bird hobbit who’s carrying him. this is just a battle of tiny, tiny people

OH MY GOD FUCKING OUCH OH GEEZ

I FELT THAT OH MY GOD

AND OF FUCKING COURSE THAT KO’D HAWKS FOR GOOD, BECAUSE HE NO LONGER HAS A FUCKING BACK, AND HE JUST TARZANED OFF A BALCONY AND TOKOYAMI LANDED RIGHT ON TOP OF HIM JESUS CHRIST. R.I.P.

TOKO IS ALL “HE MUST HAVE BLACKED OUT FROM THE IMPACT JUST NOW” AND YEAH, YOU THINK?? WOULDN’T YOU?? FUCK

OH MY GOD HE’S PICKING HIM UP AND HE’S SO FUCKING TINY OH GOD OH JESUS

STOP BEING DRAMATIC AND JUST CARRY HIM OUT OF THERE ALREADY CAN WE GET A MOVE ON PLEASE? YOU’RE DOING SO GOOD BUDDY AND I’M SO PROUD, BUT ALSO THE REST OF THE LEAGUE IS STILL OUT THERE AND NOTHING IS SAFE AND AHHHH

-- AND ALSO THIS GUY STILL!!

no doubt. no doubt whatsoever the blood that runs through those veins. the theatrics are more of a dna marker than the flame quirk could ever be

also!! ARE WE SURE HAWKS IS ACTUALLY TWENTY-THREE?? COULDN’T THE HPSC HAVE FORGED HIS BIRTH CERTIFICATE?? THIS IS A BABY PROVE ME WRONG??

anyway so since Dabi is now saying “joke’s on you, I can still use my flames whenever the fuck I want,” I’m going to take this as confirmation that he really was keeping his distance just so he could utilize forced perspective. I’m going to make a post about this as soon as I’m done reading lol

HORIKOSHI WILL YOU PLEASE STOP WITH THE ENDLESS CLOSE-UPS OF A FRIGHTENED TOKOYAMI CLINGING TO HIS UNCONSCIOUS MENTOR SCARED BUT READY TO PROTECT HIM WITH HIS LIFE I REALLY CAN’T???

DABI’S REALLY OUT HERE TRYING TO BURN THESE LITTLE BABY CHICKS ALIVE. WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR FUCKING CHILL MY DUDE

OH MY GOD

SOME KIND OF CAVALRY HAS ARRIVED AHHHH WHO

AHHH MT. LADY?!

(ETA: ngl, I’m still not sure how I feel about this sequence of panels but I did laugh good and hard though.)

-- holy shit that was ice??! oh lord don’t tell me

yeppp, looks like it’s our old buddy Dairy Queen back at it again

look... Geten?? is it?? nothing against you personally. but I have a deep-seeded and enduring dislike of everyone from the Meta Liberation Army still and that includes you pal

that being said, did you inadvertently save Tokoyami’s life, though? I originally thought those were just ~anime shockwaves~ from some off-screen attack, but if that was all actually ice, it looks like you might have cut Dabi off. which I approve of! but also that’s some serious friendly fire you tomfool

so he’s yelling that he’s disrupted the heroes’ siege, which it looks like he has! very sloppily, but still

and also, way to have both of your fire users currently 80km away, hero team! you knew Geten was here, no?? who even planned this

now this Bleach-looking dude is sneaking up on Gang Orca with what looks to be a hole-punching quirk which is freaking me out a bit ngl

Gang please take him out with your famous yeet as soon as possible, I don’t know if I can handle a prolonged fight against this particular quirk

YES TOKO GET THE FUCK OUT!!!

there is no fucking way this kid is anywhere near his twenties incidentally I might add. none at all. we’ve been had

NO STOP FEELS

HE’S CRYING JESUS CHRIST HE THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO DIE AND HIS TEACHER IS HURT AND DYING MAYBE AND THE VILLAIN SAID HE KILLED SOMEONE AND HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER, HE STILL WANTS TO PROTECT HIM AND HE’S JUST A BABY TOO?! IT’S TOO MUCH??

AND I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M SURPRISED OR SHOCKED BY ANY OF THIS AT ALL?? LISTEN UP EVERYONE, YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE WHAT I FOUND INSIDE OF THIS BAG IN THE FRIDGE WHICH WAS LABELED “CHILD SOLDIERS LIFE-OR-DEATH BATTLE ARC.” THE CONTENTS OF THIS BAG... MAY SHOCK YOU

lmao yeah but GUESS WHAT! I’M STILL GONNA GET ALL WORKED UP OVER IT AND I’M EVEN GONNA LIKE IT! but also. my babiesss

oh for fuck’s sake this guy still??

okay so I’ve already scrolled down enough to see the very top of the last page after this, and I’m pretty sure that’s Gigantomachia’s hair lol. please don’t tell me the radio is still on and he heard Tomura’s voice oh fiddlefucks

YEP

:’)

welp. strap yourselves in, chums. 19 chapters in, and this arc is only just beginning

#bnha 271 #tokoyami fumikage #dabi #hawks (bnha) #fatgum #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #god this took forever to edit #and it's still a mess #long story short TOKOYAMI AND HAWKS #PROTECT THEM

[thisisthehardestthing]

appetite, synchrony, numb

Sorry this took so long! i found this so hard to write lmao, mostly because this would be the first time I use synchrony in a sentence, it looked like a made up word to me LOL

DABI X READER -mafia au for some reason, don’t @ me, it turned into this.

You sit across the table from your lover. Your stomach twists as you stare into each others eyes, his piercings catch the candlelight, glinting maliciously. All your appetite has disappeared, Dabi’s words at the start of the meal hanging in the air like a thick fog. With synchrony, you cut up your steak, he takes a sip of wine, you chew, he swallows, you feel numb as he pierces you with his gaze.

“We’ve been together 5 years, Dabi,” you say, voice hoarse and dry from an overcooked, overpriced ribeye, “how could you not have told me?”

He’ll never be the first to look away, so you do, reading the label of the bottle of pinot grigio before refilling your glass. He shrugs, you pour. The ice crushes beneath the wine as it’s back in the bucket, and he lets out a sigh.

“I couldn’t trust you before,” he’s nonchalant in his reply, leaning back on the chair, a hint of red outgrown roots beginning to peak out from under his box-dye black.

“With your name?” You can feel your anger rising, your hand tightening around the silverware. His eyes glance down at your white-knuckle grip, so you relax, forcibly, cutting into the meat again as he continues.

“I didn’t know how you’d react.” The lightning blue of his eyes strike you, burns you and you drop the utensils with a clatter into your plate, causing a few disgruntled couples are you to stare in your direction with annoyance before returning to their own meals.

“You’re a Todoroki, you’re in the mafia, and you only think to tell me now?” you whisper at him, leaning forward to see if your words reach him faster, cut deeper. He shrugs again with that coolness that used to attract you to him, but now it just pisses you off. “Fuck you.” 

The anger seethes from you, radiating in waves and the movement in the corner of your eyes disappears when a waiter that comes close turns on his heels with a look from Dabi.

“Listen, dollface, you can be mad all you want, but let’s get out of here, yeah?” He stands up, and in an instant his coat is handed to him. He shrugs it on, staring at you expectantly down his nose and with a huff you follow him. The lackey handing you your coat jumps back as you rip it out of his hands, throwing it over your arm and grabbing the half-finished bottle of wine.

“Fine, but I’m taking this for the ride.” You wave the bottle around a little, deciding whether to throttle him with it or drink it all in a sip. “This conversation is not over.”

“I didn’t expect it would be.”

Dabi turns, the black coat seemingly large than life as he strides out of the restaurant you now realise he owns. How much more has he been hiding from you?

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

sorry, i am confusion, i word vomited all over this, but I hope you like it!

This is from the prompt “Send me three words and I’ll write a little scenario”.

#dabi #dabi x reader #bnha #mine #prompts

[dreamyjoons]

heartbreak trials // jjk

⇢ it all started with a bet: the one with the highest body count would get the most illustrious prize - Namjoon’s bedroom. For you and Jungkook, the race was on.

Genre/warnings: angst, smut! roommate!au, sex talks, best friend & fwb!Jimin, very background Namjin, swearing, alcohol use & drunkenness, creepy/pushy guy at a bar, oral (m & f recieving), fingering, unprotected sex, a creampie thing (lmao sorry), overstimulation, snarking constantly I can’t stop it

Words: 13.8k

A/N: In celebration for Jungkook’s birthday, enjoy this baby. I hope you all like it. Thank you to the incredible underthejinfluence for the support, suggestions and letting me complain regularly lmao.

“I swear, one of these days I'm gonna kill him.”

You throw yourself over the arm of the couch, letting your head flop on Namjoon’s knee. You sigh and pout up at him, waiting for him to pay you attention.

He casually ignores you, thumbing through the book in his hand. Another louder sigh passes your lips. Namjoon rolls his eyes, hastily dropping the bookmark in his hand between the pages. Once the closed book sits neatly in his lap, he turns his unimpressed gaze on you.

“What’s he done now?”

“He brought someone else home last night. Which is fine” -noting Namjoon’s raised eyebrow- “but Jungkook always seems to pick the loud ones.”

“I see. But do you not think he’s getting back at you?”

You sit bolt upright and spin, fully focused on Namjoon. Sure, you and Jungkook had some weird… thing going on when it came to having hookups in the house. Sometimes it felt a little premeditated. But you didn’t hate each other enough to have that kind of rivalry. Not that you thought so, anyway.

“For what?”

“When you brought home that guy from work who yelled the whole time you both fu-”

“Yes, your point?” You rush, ignoring the heat creeping across your face.

“Kook had an exam the next day.” Namjoon shrugged, his fingers idly teasing the edge of his book.

“That? That was last year Joonie! he’s graduated already!” You yelp, throwing up your arms for good measure.

“Yeah, but you never apologised.” You splutter at his quiet words, a Jungkook-shaped rage beginning to simmer inside you.

“Did he apologise when that devil ex of his put her thong in my bedroom? Or when that other crazy bitch tried to punch a hole through our connected wall-“

“Oh Sana? I thought you’d like her.” Jungkook smirks, strolling into the living area.

You jolt as he swaggers into the room, messy hair falling into his eyes. Wearing yet another all black ensemble, he casually strides to the sofa and sits himself between you and Namjoon, shimmying in the spot for good measure.

“What do you think?” You snap, scooting as far away from the demon as possible.

“Oh, I'm not interrupting, am I?” He smirks at you, brown eyes glittering with mischief.

“Always-“

“You’re fine, Jungkook. Actually I’ve been meaning to talk to you both.” Namjoon says gently, leaning forward to place his book on the table before turning to face you both. You and Jungkook both forcibly break your tense glare at each other to turn to Namjoon.

“I finally have a date for when I move in with Seokjin.” He smiles, his little dimple flashing on his face.

“Congrats, man!” Jungkook grins, slapping a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder.

“That’s amazing, Joonie. I bet you’re both so excited.” You smile, warmth spreading through you. It had been a long time coming - two bean poles who annoy each other constantly but found each other made your heart swell.

“We can’t wait, but that leads me to something about here. Obviously this was originally my flat, so I’m gonna pass it to you both. But it’s listed under my master bedroom.” He stops, taking a second to collect his thoughts. “So you both need to decide between you who’s going to have my room.”

An uneasy glance passes between you and Jungkook, a chill descends upon the room.

Namjoon’s room was not only nearly the size of yours and Jungkook’s room combined, but it also had an ensuite bathroom. It was prime real estate, and there was no way you were going to pass that up.

“I’ll have it-”

“Me!”

You both shout before another deadly glare passes between you. His eyebrows knit as he stares at you, but you’re not intimidated. You never are by Jungkook. He was a bunny! And apparently he banged like one-

“No way Jungkook, I deserve it! I’ve had to listen to you one-stroke wonder for nearly two years now-“

“Not a chance, Y/N! If I have to listen to you fake another orgasm I swear-”

“Fake? Fake?!” You splutter, heat surging to your face as you gawp at the floppy-haired idiot.

“Oh please, I’ve had to listen to you enough to know when you’re putting it on, which sounds like it happens regularly.” He shrugs, flicking his hair out of his eyes before smirking over at you.

“What makes you an orgasm expert?” You scoff.

“Oh baby, I know how to give an orgasm or three.”

You splutter and try to play it off as a cough, but Jungkook grins triumphantly. Namjoon loudly clears his throat, shuffling to the edge of the couch to give you both a meaningful stare.

“I’ll be out of here by the end of next week, but the contract will be changed in just under a month.” Namjoon gets to his feet, tucking his book under his arm. “You both have until then to decide.”

You stare at each other, sizing the other one up.

“I don’t care who takes the room as long as nothing gets broken in the inevitable fight you both are gonna have. Now, goodnight.” He smiles, before ducking out of the room. You and Jungkook both sit in silence until you hear his door shut.

You’d known each other for a year or two - you’d moved in with Namjoon after graduating after seeing an ad for a room. Jungkook had moved in three months after, having needed a place for his final year of college. That had been almost a year ago, and things were a lot different.

It wasn’t that you didn’t get on - you did. Most of the time. But there had been this strange atmosphere between you which had resulted in a weird competition; namely who can have the most sexual partners. Or in Jungkook’s case, the loudest.

“Obviously we both want the room.” He states, and you force yourself not to roll your eyes so hard your retinas detach.

“Yeah.”

“So how about we come up with a fair way to battle it out?” He asks, his full attention on you.

“Like what?” You ask, but he merely shrugs, hiding behind his hair slightly.

“I dunno. But we need a fair competition, because neither of us are gonna with over an argument.”

“I mean, I probably would-”

“No. Let's do this somewhat fairly.” He asserts, raising an eyebrow at you. You huff, but finally nod.

“Fine, but I can veto it if it’s a stupid idea.” You counter, holding out a hand.

He reaches out and takes your hand in his, gripping it as you shake hands, finalizing your agreement. You both break apart, sinking into separate ends of the couch.

“It’s gonna be weird without Joon being here.” Jungkook says quietly, and you nod at his words.

“Who’s gonna burn all our food and break up our fights now?” You smile, a genuine ache seeping its way into your chest.

Jungkook lets out a small chuckle, running a hand through his hair as he looks around the room. So much of Namjoon’s personality was in that place. The book titles with too many words strewn about the pace, the huge, earthy blankets laid over nearly every surface. The one bonsai he trusts you and Jungkook not to kill sitting proudly in the window. It was cosy, and completely Namjoon.

A silence settles over you, the air palpably thick.

You drag your eyes back to Jungkook, and find his eyes on you. They’re gentle but probing, like he’s trying to read your deepest thoughts. You nervously drag your lip between your teeth, heat flashes across your face as his eyes follow the motion.

And there it was. The deep ache in your stomach whenever you’re alone together, or when he creeps into your thoughts every day. You could never dwell on it, because you and Jungkook in any other context but roommates wasn’t something you could see. The risk of a broken heart is something you couldn’t handle, so you avoided it at all costs.

You push yourself to your feet, needing fresher air to fill your lungs. His bright eyes widen at your movements, following your every move.

You stare back at him, hair pushed back out of his face, mouth parted as he watches you, hands resting on his muscled thighs.

“Got work tomorrow, gonna get an early night rightokaybye-” you rush, darting around the couch and heading to your bedroom.

You shut the door and lean against it, tipping your head back against the wood. You take a deep breath and slip into autopilot, changing and climbing into bed, trying to clear your mind of Jungkook and his smile. And those thighs.

— —

Staggering through the front door, you kick your shoes off and slam your keys onto the little key rack Namjoon excitedly hung a month ago. You push the thought aside, not wanting to deal with the sadness of Joon moving out today.

Dragging your feet, you moan as you stumble into the kitchen and throw yourself on one of the island chairs, slumping into the counter.

“Fucking managers… ‘we need you to file these before you clock out’... yeah well file my fist into your face, asshats…” you mumble into the counter, the cool granite seeping into your forehead.

“Rough day?” A tinkling voice greets you, and you lift your heavy head to stare at Jungkook, half in the fridge with a banana milk in his hand, wiping some escaped liquid around his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

“... have you been there the whole time?”

“Yeah. Work sucked, then?” He asks, closing the fridge and leaning on the counter, head in his hands as he looked at you. You blink stupidly at him, his big eyes sucking you in.

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, it was crappy.” You rush, before slamming your head back down on the counter, letting the cool seep into your burning face.

This is why you prefered arguing with Jungkook. Fighting him was easy. Because when you’re not being snarky and insulting each other, he has the stars in his eyes when he talks to you and you become a stuttering mess.

“You need to blow off some steam.” You can hear the smile in his voice, and you pick your head up to look at him.

“Yeah, by taking the bubbliest bath ever and sleeping until next January.”

“Nope, you know what I mean.” He winks, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Thanks, but no. I’m not in the mood.”

“Awh, don’t think you could get it?”

“Please. I can pull way more people than you, Jungkook.”

“I doubt that, Y/N. I mean, look at me.” He gestures to himself, and you focus on keeping your eyes fixed firmly in his face. You weren’t going to follow those gorgeous hands-

“Whatever. Keep dreaming.”

“Wanna bet on it?”

“Bet?”

“Yeah, say, one the one with the highest body count gets Namjoon’s bedroom?”

“I dunno Jungkook, that sounds like a lot of work. And shaving.”

“You haven’t got to shave. Or are you just looking for an excuse?” He smirks at you, eyebrows wagging.

“... how long would it have to be for?”

“Until we have to sign the contract for the room, right? Namjoon said less than a month, so let’s say… three weeks.”

You flick your eyes over him, weighing him up.

It would be a lie if you weren’t tempted. Both you and Jungkook had a … colourful sexual history, which seems especially ramped up with your unspoken competition over the last year. There was a chance you could win, but no one could resist Jungkook - you often wonder how you’ve lasted so long.

But then again, Namjoon’s room did have a shower with amazing water pressure.

“You’re on.” You grin, holding out your hands.

Jungkook reaches across the counter and takes your hand in his, shaking excitedly. He pulls back over the counter and gives you a bunny smile, eyes practically sparkling.

“Don’t we need some rules or something?” You ask, and his smile drops as he groans.

“No? It’s sex, there’s no rules.”

“Oh come on, stuff like using dating apps, and, I dunno, lying about our number.” You frown, waiting for his reaction.

“Why would I lie?” He asks, genuine concern crossing his face. A twinge of guilt settles in you, and you have to admit: Jungkook may be a lot of things, but he’s never been a liar.

“Fine, fine, I know you won’t. But we need to talk some things through.”

A fierce discussion and a lot of colourful words later, you both agree to some tentative terms for your competition.

“Okay, so. One, no dating or hook-up apps, we have to do this the old fashioned way. Two, we can’t interfere with each other when we’re trying to get laid-“

“Ugh, can you not say it like that?” You groan, sinking back into your chair.

“Okay - when we’re trying to bump uglies-“

“No-“

“Three, we can sleep with the same people, but more than once doesn’t count. Failing to do any of this will mean we forfeit.”

“Right. And once we’re done we note it down on…” you pause, getting to your feet and walk to the fridge.

You take off the magnetic white board and scrub it clean. You draw a line down the middle, and put your and Jungkook’s name on either side of the line.

“Namjoon’s gonna be pissed that you got rid of his cleaning rota.”

“Shut up. We tally it here.” You tap the board for emphasis.

“Done. So are we starting now?” He asks, but you shake your head. It wasn’t enough that work had worn you out, but now the exhaustion from the conversation and the task ahead of you was threatening to totally wipe you out.

“Nope, too tired. You’re not gonna have an advantage over me like that Jungkook. Tomorrow.” You assert, getting to your feet.

He stares at you for a moment, assessing. A soft look passes his face - a glimmer of something. But it vanishes instantly.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He says gently, his eyes fixed on you.

“I want to, Kook. I’m gonna win that bedroom and sing in my shower all the time. I’ve got this.” You grin. He watches you for a moment before his demeanour changes, slipping back to the bubbly Jungkook you’re so used to and grinning at you.

“Keep dreaming, Y/N.” He smiles, before picking up what’s left of his banana milk and chugging it. You roll your eyes and walk away, your bed calling your name.

“Good luck getting someone to sleep with you when you have banana breath. Night Jungkook.” You call over your shoulder.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You walk through your door and shut it behind you, finally letting yourself sag on your bed. You stare at the ceiling, the bet ticking through your brain.

It was probably dumb, but competition with Jungkook was always interesting, and it had been a while since you’d had some action. At least you could find someone to distract you, and get a nice bedroom out of it.

You wearily get to your feet, changing out of your work clothes and into pajamas. Then, after a second’s thought, you tidy your room just a little. If you’re gonna have company, you may as well be presentable.

Finally you drop into your bed, bone weary but mildly excited. Time to get up on the saddle, and show Jungkook who’s the real cowboy.

— —

Your blissful sleep is interrupted by a dull thudding, one that seemed to get louder and louder. You vaguely register it coming from the wall you share with Jungkook, but you were desperately trying to cling to the remaining tendrils of sleep. A grunt meets your ears, and you realise something wasn’t right. Groggily you open your eyes, the rude awakening souring your mood already.

“Jungkook! Fuck…” you hear a faint whine and you freeze.

You hear a few more thumps until reality hits you. Throwing yourself from your bed, you grab your phone and storm out to the kitchen. Namjoon sits at the kitchen counter, sipping his coffee calmly. Thankfully you couldn’t hear the smut from here, so you sink into the seat next to him, planting your forehead onto his shoulder.

“Take me with you to live with Jin, I beg of you.”

“You started this, Y/N. Never make a bet with Jungkook on anything! The boy will stop at nothing to win.” He sighs, placing his coffee down.

You sit bolt upright and glare at him suspiciously. He blushes a little, but he meets your gaze.

“How do you know about the bet?” You ask, forehead creased.

“I’m very smart, I tend to know things.”

“... Jungkook told you.”

“Yeah Jungkook told me.” He laughs. “He waited for me to get home and told me.”

“Why would he do that?” You frown.

“Oh, uh…” he flusters. “He- he just wanted to give me a heads up.”

“Okay… well whatever, I’m not gonna be beaten.” You mumble, picking up your phone and scroll through your recent messages.

“That doesn’t sound good.” Namjoon says under his breath, but you decidedly ignore him.

You find the number you’re looking for and shoot a quick text before locking your phone. You grin at Namjoon as you stand up, grabbing a glass of water and chugging it.

“Gotta go prep, have fun at wo-”

You're cut off by the door of Jungkook’s room opening, and you and Namjoon spin in unison. Out totters a relatively familiar girl, and you recognise her as one of Jungkook’s usual hookups. He walks her past you both to the door, his hand hovering in the small of her back as he leads her out. You move your gaze to Namjoon who looks between the both of you, frowning.

After a brief murmur, the front door shuts and Jungkook saunters back into the room, a small grin on his face. You flick your eyes up to him and see that he’s only wearing a pair of gym shorts, his hair messy and wild. Perspiration still clung to his bare chest, his hair slightly sticking to his forehead. You swallow hard, forcing your eyes away from him.

“Looks like I’m taking an early lead.” He shrugs, bunny teeth on show as he smiles. Your phone buzzes on the counter and you look over at it, a smirk lighting up your face as you look back to a curious Jungkook.

“Well, I think we'll be even before you’ve even got dressed, so don’t get too cocky.”

A groan cuts off his answer, and you both dart your gaze to Namjoon who has his head tilted back, eyes screwed shut.

“Please just… can you both make sure no one gets hurt if you’re actually going through with this?” He sighs, bringing his head back to glare at you both.

“Get hurt? Who’s gonna get hurt?” You ask, but your gut screams that you know. Deep down where you try to ignore, you know.

Jungkook flusters, settling to stare at Namjoon with wide eyes. Sighing again, Namjoon gets to his feet and dumps his cup into the sink before turning to stare at you both one last time.

“You know what I mean. Now, I’m going to work. Please don’t get your bodily fluids all over my apartment.” He tells you both sternly before walking away.

You and Jungkook look at each other for a moment before you buckle under his gaze, grabbing your phone and heading to the bathroom.

“We’re not gonna get hurt, are we?” Jungkook asks quietly, and you spin to face him.

“No- no, why would we? We’ve got no reason to.” You say awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of your pajama shorts. “As long as neither of us do anything stupid, we’ll be fine.” You finish with a forced smile, ignoring the voice in the back of your mind telling you that this was dangerously stupid already.

“You’re right. Yeah.” He nods, stepping back. He bumps into the stool behind him and flounders before regaining himself, giving you a small salute before he vanishes to his room.

You stare after him for a moment before you shake your head and walk to the shower.

Taking your time to shave and moisturise so that you were feeling yourself, you finally step out, wrap yourself in a towel and head back to your room. A quick check of your phone tells you he’s almost there, so you slip on a top and some shorts - it’s not like you’ll be wearing them long, anyway.

You faintly hear a knock at the door and you speed out to answer it.

Swinging open the door to see Jimin smiling at you, you can’t help but grin back.

“Hey Y/N.” He smiles, his eyes scrunched as he beams at you.

“Hey, thanks for coming so quickly.” You laugh, grabbing his hand and dragging him through the house and towards your bedroom.

“Well, you know I’m always keen to help you beat Jungkook at something.” He laughs as you shut your door behind him.

“That’s why I can always count on you.” You smirk, pressing him back so that he falls onto the bed. You straddle him, hands pressed gently to his chest. “And please, be as loud as possible.”

— —

“I’m gonna go pee. Then we can talk about your battle plan to defeat Jungkook.” Jimin says gently, smiling at you before he gets out of the bed and pulls on his boxers and jeans.

You wave at him and stretch out on the bed, smug at closing the gap already - and you’d only been awake for three hours.

You sit waiting for Jimin, keen to talk to him about the whole bet with Jungkook. But you waited and waited, until finally you got impatient and got up, throwing on a tee and shorts.

You walk out of your room to find Jimin in the kitchen, head thrown back with laughter as he talks to Jungkook. Both were shirtless, but you felt your face heat up when you tried to avoid staring at Jungkook. You approach them, eyebrows drawn together and an uneasy smile on your lips.

“Hey guys…”

“Oh, Y/N! You didn’t say Jimin was coming over.” Jungkook smiles, fixing you with a bubbly giggle as he watches you approach.

You shrug as you walk to the fridge and pick up the pen, putting your first tally on your scoreboard. You spin back to smile at Jungkook, a surge of excitement rushing through you. He swallows as he looks between you and Jimin, his bubbliness dulling a little.

“So, neck and neck, huh? Don’t expect it to last long.” You wink at him, before flicking your eyes to Jimin.

“Wanna go out tomorrow?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him, ignoring Jungkook’s noise of exasperation.

“If you’re going out, I’m coming too!” He yelps.

“No way, not happening! I’m not having you cramp my style.”

“Cramp your style? What are you, sixty?” Jungkook snarks, causing Jimin to stifle a giggle into his hands.

“You’re gonna mess me up! No way.”

“Oh come on, if I do ‘mess you up’ then I’ll void the bet and that’s not gonna happen. So buckle up baby, we’re going out.” Jungkook leans against the counter and crosses his arms across his toned chest, challenging you to try and deny him again.

You look to Jimin and see that he’s set his puppy dog eyes on you. You huff, throwing your hands in the air, and Jungkook grins.

“This is gonna be fun.”

“Whatever nerd, we’ll see who’s gonna be having fun.” You snap, grabbing Jimin by the shoulders and pushing him back to your room before slamming your door shut.

“Chill out Y/N, I’m not gonna take your man.” Jimin giggles, stretching himself out on your bed.

“He’s not my man, you ass.” You hiss, picking his shirt off the floor and launching it at him.

“Well either way, I can’t wait to watch the train wreck happen tomorrow night.”

— —

Night and day passed too quickly.

Namjoon or Jin couldn’t be persuaded to go out with you, citing that they weren’t going to be around ‘childish games of romance’. You elected to ignore what they were trying to say, and simply took your frustrations out by stress texting Jimin all day.

But it couldn’t be held off any longer, and soon you found yourself pressed between sweaty bodies making jerky movements to loud music.

Jungkook had been relatively silent for the whole of your journey, only replying in solemn nods and prolonged staring.

Jimin -who was sick of both of you- ignored the pair of you, practically skipping his way through the club to the bar. He orders a round of shots, passes one to both of you and chucks his down his neck. You blow out your cheeks, forcing yourself to relax.

Jungkook being there wasn’t going to cost you Namjoon’s room. Keeping that in mind, you tip the liquid into your mouth, the burn rippling down your throat as you swallow.

Your eyes flick to Jungkook as he does the same, eyes fluttering shut and lips pulling tight as he forces down the shot.

You forcefully drag your eyes away from a spot of alcohol that escapes his mouth and creeps down his exposed throat, and focus on the crowd.

There were a lot of people in the small club, and your hopes at finding someone were high. Jungkook walks off, mumbling something about the bathroom, and you watch him leave. You turn to look at Jimin, a smile finally slipping onto your face.

“Feeling lucky?” He asks, noting your grin. You shrug your shoulders at him, a twinkle in your eye.

“As long as Jungkook stays out of my way, I’ll be fine.” Your voice is low, and you fiddle with the shot glass in your hand before gently placing it on the bartop.

“Why would he be an issue?” He winks, eyebrow raised.

“He just… gets in my view and I can’t concentrate because his stupid face is in my vision.”

“Sure, and it’s not because you -“

“Shut up, Jimin. I don’t know what you think but you’re wrong.” You snap, eyes narrowing. He simply laughs, holding up his hands in a surrender motion, before his eyes flick over your shoulder.

“Well whatever, I think you’re gonna have company in a minute.” He nods, and you follow his eyes to find a man down the bar looking in your direction.

He’s cute, kinda tall, a little beardy. You give him a shy smile, before turning back to Jimin and winking. He shakes his head, a small giggle passing his lips.

“Give me a signal if you need any help.” He whispers, watching the man walk towards you. You squeeze his arm gently, before turning back to rest on the bar.

After a mere moment, you feel a figure slide next to you, a faint air of expensive cologne filling your senses. You hide your smirk, electing to run a smoothing hand over your hair. The loud music thumps along with your heartbeat, the thrill of the chase lighting your veins on fire.

“Hey.” His deep voice filters in from beside you, and you turn your slightly head to face the man.

“Hi.”

“Would you like a drink?” He asks, bringing his mouth low by your ear.

“Depends if you’re buying or not.” You smirk, meeting his hazel eyes.

“If it means I get your company for the evening, it’s on me.” He tilts his head as he smirks at you, pulling a light laugh from your lips.

“Does that work on all the girls you try it on?”

“I don’t know - will it work on you?” He whispers, his cool breath brushing over the hair by your ear and down your neck.

You lick your lips, letting a hand rest on his arm as you bring you gaze level with his, mere inches away. You were already mentally checking off another mark on the scoreboard, causing a smirk to slip on your face.

Leaning into him and letting your eyes flutter shut, your lips are on the verge of grazing when he’s suddenly ripped out of your space. Your eyes fly open as you search around you, only to find Jungkook pushing the guy through the crowd and out of sight. Shock etches across your face, eyebrows rocketing up as you jaw hangs.

Jungkook stalks back to take the guy’s empty place, fury written across his face as he looks at you. His side is pressed against you in the busy bar but you take a dizzying step back, trying to uncloud your mind. Your stunned stillness fades, replaced by blind rage.

“Jeon Jungkook, what the fuck-“

“I know him, Y/N. He’s a complete asshole.” He fully faces you, bright eyes holding yours in a deadly stare.

“He doesn’t have to be a Nobel Peace Prize winner for me to sleep with him! You’re way out of line!” You shout and he winces at your tone, but he doesn’t falter.

“Trust me, it’s better if he’s not around. I’m trying to help-”

“Are you? It doesn’t look like that from here.” You snap, holding his gaze.

“Believe me, Y/N.” His voice is quiet, and for a moment the storm in your mind clears. But you can’t let him into your head like that, you won’t.

The crowd jostles around you, knocking into you and Jungkook as they try to get to the bar. You’re both pressed together, held in place by unaware figures. But you don’t bend, intent on letting him know how you feel.

His dark eyes examine your face, drawing his lip between his teeth as he lets your words sink under his skin. Your eyes dart about his face, unable to focus. The small freckle that sits just under his mouth, the flare of his nostrils, the way his teeth sink into his lip. It was all him - impossibly Jungkook, and hard to stay angry at. But you wanted to, you needed to.

There’s something electric about him when he looks at you like that. Breathing your air, painted in red and blue lights, surrounded by darkness. It’s heavenly - and too much.

“Stay out of my way, Kook.” Your voice is low, but he hears you loud and clear. With one last withering look, you step away from him and go to find Jimin, his eyes hot against your back.

You deliberate leaving the club completely, Jungkook fully ruining your mood. You can feel him working his way under your skin, and it alarms you that you don’t mind him being there. You shake your head, expelling those thoughts. You’ve got a bet to win, you tell yourself. It shouldn’t be that deep.

Finally, you find Jimin surrounded by a crowd as he dances. They’re cheering over the music, strobe lights illuminating the graceful moves the makes. He laughs as he moves, catching your eyes across the sea of bodies. You smile at him, but his head cocks and he ceases all movement, making a b-line for you. Some of the crowd complain, but he ignores them, stopping before you and placing his hands on your upper arms.

“Are you okay?” He asks, eyebrows creased and plush lips pulled into a thin line.

“Yeah, I’m fi-“

“Do I need to beat that guy up? Where’s Jungkook, we’ll grab him and-“

“No, it’s not the guy that was the problem, it’s Jungkook.” You murmur, eyes shooting away from Jimin.

You find yourself scanning the crowd for him, but not finding him anywhere. You ignore the small pang that hits your chest and instead turning your attention back to Jimin. He has a soft look on his face, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles in your arms.

“So you finally admit it?” He asks softly, barely audible over the music.

“Admit what?”

“... nothing. Come on, let’s get another drink and you can tell me about it.”

With a soft embrace, Jimin steers you to the bar. Pressing through the crowd, you let yourself lean against the wooden bartop, watching but not seeing.

Jimin’s served, and he slides two shots of something clear towards you. You look at him and raise an eyebrow, but he shrugs at you before throwing back his own. You drink one, then two. Wiping your mouth in the back of your hand, you look at him and smile weakly.

“Thanks.”

“So what happened?” He asks, and you take a steadying breath before relaying what went on with Jungkook.

Jimin is silent as you speak, weighing the value of each word. He’s quiet after you’ve finished talking, and you wonder for a minute if he even heard you. But he looks back at you with a sad smile, and suddenly you don’t feel so brave any more.

“You two don’t learn, do you?”  He sighs, shaking his head. Your eyebrows cross as you stare at him, waiting for him to elaborate. But he doesn't, letting the words hang in the air.

And you know. You know what he means, you know how you feel. But thinking any more of Jungkook will never be reciprocated, and ignoring your heart is better than having it broken.

But heartbreak follows you.

You cast your eyes back around the room again. You see someone flick their hair, and you know it’s him, you know it. But moving your eyes around him stops your heart.

Jungkook stands just off the end of the bar, whispering in the ear of a petite brunette. There no playful air about him like there usually was, no thrill of the chase. Determination ripples around him, no sense of ease. In a way, it felt personal.

You blink back a sting in your eyes, turning back to the bar and suck in a deep breath. Jimin looks over his shoulder, spotting what you had been fixated on. He looks back and lays a light hand on your shoulder, but it’s too much.

“Y/N-”

“Excuse me Jimin, I’ve got a bet to win.” You say in a low, dangerous voice, before slipping away from his grip and moving quickly towards the dancefloor.

You let yourself be distracted for a mere moment, letting nothing but music, people and darkness fill your senses. A coldness creeps through your system, your protection. You let your eyes flutter shut, forcing everything but that second away from you.

You’re bumped forwards, and you begin to trip over your feet when a small hand grips your arm and steadies you. You right yourself and turn, only to come face to face with a beautiful, tall blond woman. She looks at you gently, letting her eyes linger on your body.

“Sorry about that.” She smiles, letting her hand linger on your arm.

“Oh, no worries.” You smile at her. She steps away after a prolonged glance, and you bite your lip.

You take a quick look around, eyes immediately darting to where you knew Jungkook was. The girl's hands were pressed to his chest, giggling something excitably in his ear. His expression doesn’t change, but you watch as his hand slides over to her hips.

For once halting moment, his eyes find you in the crowd. It’s fleeting, but you share something that you can’t pin down. He looks pained, guilty.

But he doesn’t push her hands away, and his hand stays rooted to her hips.

You drag your eyes away, your decision for the evening settling in your chest. You briefly make eye contact with Jimin, an unending pity deep in his soulful eyes. You swallow thickly before turning back to the retreating woman, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Wanna dance?” You ask, fake smile slipping onto your lips.

“I’ve been dancing all night, I was gonna head home.” She smirks, and you school your face, another rejection threatening to slice through you.

“Oh-”

“But I could do with some company.” She winks, threading her fingers through yours.

You smile at her and let her lead you towards the bar exit. You look to Jimin, a sad expression on his features. You offer him a blank stare and a small wave, ignoring the flicker of concern in his face.

With an ache in your chest, you flick your eyes to Jungkook - only to meet his. He watches you get pulled by, examining the woman before looking at you. His mouth is parted, his normally sparkling eyes glazed over. The girl he’s with paws at his face, but he doesn't look away from you.

You’re the one to drag your eyes away, trying to erase how her hands looked over him in your mind.

The girl looks back at you and smiles, and you return it, your heart heavy. But you follow her, out of the bar, into a taxi and into her arms.

— —

The next week and a half was painless - purely through the power of ignorance.

You barely saw Jungkook. You spent an entire day with him at one point - but fortunately Namjoon had too many books and lots of furniture to move, so you were barely in each other's presence for long.

But Namjoon was gone, and the two of you were left to haunt the apartment like lonely spectres in his wake.

It wasn’t a total bust though - you’d managed to take the lead in your bet. You were two ahead of Jungkook with eight. Namjoon’s room was in your grasp, and you had planned to go out with Jimin again tonight.

You quietly eyed the whiteboard - Namjoon left it behind saying it had been ‘tainted’. You pull out a carton of juice and pour yourself a glass, trying to delay going into your room.

You knew Jungkook had someone over. You didn’t want to go to your room and hear them, and you wanted them to walk out and see you much less.

Instead you drain your glass and make a grab for your keys - but you had to go to your room and get them from your bag.

Steeling yourself, you make a break for it. You’re almost at your room when his door swings open, and you’re blindsided, your gut wrenching.

“Jeni?” You splutter.

She turns, dressed only in one of Jungkook’s oversized shirts. Her perfect blond hair fell into her precise bob, beautiful features pulled into a look of confusion and disdain.

She places a perfectly manicured hand on her hip whilst the other pulled Jungkook’s door shut. You glare at Jungkook’s ex, your head beating so hard you thought it would burst from your chest.

“What are you doing here?” You growl, letting malice seep into every word.

“Isn’t it obvious?” A spiteful laugh falls from her lips, eyes sizing you up.

“Come back to break his heart again? Or did you get lost on your way back to the swamp?” You snap. She laughs mirthlessly at you.

“Well, Kookie said you weren’t any different. Glad to see nothing’s changed.” You cringe at her nickname for him - it always sounded so cold and calculated when it came from her lips.

“He said that?” You ask, eyebrows creased.

Why was he talking about you - to the ex who tore his heart to shreds? You could remember nights where you’d stay up until 5AM to distract him from the pain he felt - as if you could absorb it for him. In some way, you did-

“Oh Y/N, dense as ever, and hopelessly in l-”

“Shut up Jeni. I know it uses up a lot of brain cells for you to form words, so you can just stop.”

You brush past her, making sure to knock her as you walk by. She squeaks at the impact, but you don’t feel anything but empty.

“It was good to see you. You’ll be seeing more of me soon enough.” You can hear the smile in her voice but you ignore her, bursting into your room and slamming the door behind you.

Pacing the room, your mind reels and your stomach churns.

Jeni being here had changed things. Jungkook was left shattered by her, why would he bring her back into his life? Even to win a bet, that was dumb.

But her being here was bringing to a head something you hadn’t wanted to admit to yourself - how you truly felt about Jungkook.

Because you realised if she is here, you can’t be. Him sleeping with people was one thing, but a relationship, emotions and love with someone else? That wasn’t something you could watch again - it broke your heart enough the first time around.

Your plans to leave the house abandoned, you sit on your bed and pull out your headphones, placing them tightly in your ear before blasting the first song you could find.

When the roar of your headphones was the only thing to fill your senses, you lay back on your bed and curl on your side, letting the music take you some place that wasn’t here, and that didn’t hurt.

Only an hour or so later, you were rudely woken by someone shaking your shoulders.

Groggily you snapped the earbuds out of your ears, and rolled on your back to see a blurry Jimin standing above you.

“Hey.” He says gently, hand resting on your arm.

“Hey.” You whisper back, sleepily rubbing your eyes.

“You doing alright?” He asks softly, big doe eyes examining your face. You nod and sit up, letting the sleep work its way out of your system.  

“Come on, get dressed. We’re getting out of this damn apartment.” He orders, taking your hand and pulling you to your feet. You didn’t argue - you didn’t want to.

“You’ve seen Jeni, then?” You ask, walking to your wardrobe and finding anything to pull on.

“Yeah. Stupid boy…” he sighs, the last part quiet but you hear it all the same.

You finish getting dressed on autopilot, throwing on a quick layer of light make-up before you're ready. Grabbing your purse and phone and slipping on your shoes, you nod at Jimin.

He offers you a small smile before taking your hand in his and leading you both out of your bedroom. He squeezes your hand lightly, and your heart swells at the support from your friend. He was a lighthouse through the fog of all the bullshit you felt.

You hear her voice in the kitchen and tense, but Jimin runs a soothing thumb across your knuckles, and you shudder in a breath.

Both of you walk past the kitchen and see Jungkook making coffee, a pained expression on his face as he half listens to Jeni speak. At the sound of you and Jimin walking by his head snaps up, bright eyes fixed on you.

You feel your face heat up as you make eye contact, but Jimin continues to pull you away. Jungkook’s eyes snap to your locked hands, before back to you, his lips parting.

“Where are you going?” Jeni asks, obviously annoyed at Jungkook’s distraction.

“Out.” Jimin snaps, pushing you to the door.

You open it and step out, heaving a heavy breath of air. Jimin shuts the door behind you and throws an easy arm around your shoulder.

“We haven’t got to go out if you don’t want. We can go for a walk or something.”

“No, no it’s okay. I need something loud. And alcohol. Definitely alcohol.” You sigh, wrapping an arm around his waist, grateful for the support.

An hour later, you find yourself gulping down your sixth - seventh? - shot of the night, and your third glass of a bright blue liquid that was definitely strong but tasted too sweet for you to care.

The bar wasn’t too busy, it being a weeknight, but there was enough people there to keep it interesting.

Loud pop music filled the room, bouncing off the dark walls. You bopped along to the beat, the haze of drunkenness clouding your vision. You were numb, comfortably so.

Jimin had disappeared a little while ago, phone pressed to his ear - he said he was going to the bathroom, and for you to stay put. He’d been trying to tamper down your behaviour all evening, holding back too many shots and chasing off anyone who approached. But still you had managed to get a drink or two bought for you and gulped it down without him catching you in time. However you had gotten bored waiting and being babied, and drunkenly wandered off.

The bet still rattled around in your head, which caused you to flirt with everyone you came across. The still rational part of you screamed - your heart wasn’t in it, not any more. But your clouded brain wouldn’t see past it, and instead you let yourself be pressed against strangers, their hot breath rolling across your face as you tried your luck.

With your most recent attempt telling you that he’ll come find you later in the night, you gave him a sloppy wink before staggering away.

You press yourself against the bar, sloppily propping your head on your hand. The bartender places a small glass of water in front of you and you smile your thanks at him, pulling it to your lips and lightly sipping.  

The look in his eye catches you off guard - pity. Your smile falters, your drunken haze shattering around you. You gulp down the rest of the water and in a moment of clarity, realise you should find Jimin. You shouldn’t be here any more.

Your turn from the bar a little too fast, causing yourself to stumble. A pair of hands catch you, and prop you back up against the bar.

You look up at the man and thank him, and he smirks down at you. His brown choppy hair frames his face sharply, his lips drawn tightly into a smile.

“You heading somewhere in a hurry?” He asks, and you offer a polite smile.

“I’m- I’m” you pause to hiccup, “gonna find my friend. ‘Scuse me.”

“Woah, what’s the rush? I’m sure your friend will be here in a minute.” He takes hold of your wrist, pinning you in place. You try and snap your hand out of his hold, but his fingers are an iron grip.

“Let me g-go.”

“Don’t you wanna stay and chat? You’ve been hitting on everyone here, why not me babe?” He laughs, but his voice has an edge to it, an underlying bite.

“I’m going home… asshole. Getoffme-”

“Listen, slut-”

“Let go of me or I’ll scream.” You grind out, rage and fear bubbling in your chest. The man simply laughs, and you see red.

You dig your nails into his hand around your wrist, and he releases your hand with a grunt. You snap your hand away and begin to scramble from him, but he grabs your upper arm and slams you back against him.

“Isn’t this nice? Now-”

Just as suddenly as you’re pulled against the guy, you’re pulled away into someone’s chest.

“Jimin, I’ve got her!” The shout rumbles from the chest you’re against. You flick your eyes up to the owner of it, only to have the air sucked out of your lungs.

“Kook?” You whisper, his wide eyes meeting yours, a softness touching each corner of his face.

“Bro what the fu-” the man starts, snapping Jungkook gaze from you.

Jungkook wraps a protective arm around your waist, holding you to his side. Rage fills his face, his teeth gritted as he stares at the man.

“I’m not your ‘bro’. You’re disgusting.” Jungkook spits, steering you away from the guy.

You let out a breath, fingers gripping tightly into the material of his shirt. Jimin finally finds you, rushing to you and cupping your face in his hands. Jungkook tenses a little under you, but you don’t let him go.

Jungkook explains what just happened, and Jimin looks between the two of you and towards the man you were just with.

“Get her home, Jungkook. I’m going to have a little chat with our friend.” Jimin almost growls, letting his hands drop from your face.

“Be careful Jimin.” Jungkook offers quietly, but Jimin shakes his head.

“Just get her home.”

With a final nod, you’re walked out through the door of the bar and out into the darkened street. The wall of fresh air makes your head spin, and you cling to Jungkook for support.

You let him lead you down the street as he waits for an uber, his arms still snugly around your middle.  

“Why are you here, Kook?” You slur, lifting your lidded eyes to his face. His eyes stay firmly glued to his phone.

“Jimin called. Said you needed me, so here I am.”

“Yeah, but why are you here?”

His eyes flicker to you just for a second, a glimmer of something flashing across his wide eyes.

“Because… I care about you. Even if you think I don't. And if I left you to fend for yourself, Namjoon would castrate me.”

“I-I can handle myself. I don’t need you… stepping in like some knight in shining armour-”

“I know.” He murmurs, interrupting your rambling tirade. “But I want to.”

Your words die in your throat as you look at him. He’s aggressively avoiding your eyes, instead searching the roads.

It’s overwhelming, the need to tell him the depth of your feelings. You know it’s the alcohol coursing through your veins, but it’s deeper than that. And sober you would hate the drunken delivery, but you need to lighten your heart, your soul.

“Kook-“

You’re stopped by a car pulling up beside you. Jungkook confirms with the driver through the window about his pick up before reaches for the door, helping you in.

You reluctantly disentangle from him and climb clumsily into the car. Jungkook shuts the door behind you, and appears a moment later getting into the other side. As soon as the door shuts the car moves away, your mind spinning.

The ride’s quiet, but your eyes never leave him. You can't tell if it's the alcohol or not, but you can't stop. After a moment, he turns his gaze on to you, his lip between his teeth.  

“Why don’t you call me that more often?”

“... what?”

“Kook.” He says softly, and you feel your heart begin to thump wildly in your chest.

“I dunno, it just happens.” You shrug, but the weight of his question sits on your chest. He was your Kook, you wanted to scream. Not just Jungkook. Kook.

The rest of the ride is quiet. And despite all your anger and hurt, you slide against him and rest your head on his shoulder, lacing your fingers with his. You couldn’t stop yourself, but it felt right through your haze.

Too soon, the car pulls in front of your apartment block. Jungkook throws open the door and slides out, but keeps his hand clasped with yours. You follow him out on wobbly feet and close the door behind you.

You fight to keep your mind blank as he leads you back up to your apartment, only pausing to unlock your front door.

“Is, uh… is that devil bitch still here?” You whisper, pressing to Jungkook’s side. He nearly drops his keys as he looks at you, eyes wide.

“Jeni? No, no. She finally left when Jimin called.” He sighed, at last getting the door open.

You stumble in, momentarily forgetting your hands were linked and dragging Jungkook with you.

He says nothing, simply kicking the door shut behind him as you head straight for the sofa, pulling him down beside you.

The only light came from the windows, dewy street lights strobing the room. Shadows fall across his face, soft, and so close.

His lips part as he watches you, eyes wide. You don’t know how long you sit there for, but it felt like an eternity - and it was perfect. You could spend a lifetime looking at him, seeing him.

He forces his mouth shut and swallows before disentangling your hands. You make a noise of protest, but he holds a finger up.

He hurries to his feet and disappears, only to emerge a moment later, a glass of water in his hands. He offers it to you and you accept gratefully, gulping the cool liquid down.

You place the glass carefully back on the table before settling back onto the chair, head falling to his shoulder.

It couldn’t be helped - the neediness that was trying to claw its way from your chest. You wanted nothing more than for him to consume you, to hold you, to kiss you. It felt so amplified in the moment.

But you couldn’t - how could you? You had to live together, you shared the same friends. Would he ever feel the same? You weren’t like his exes, you weren’t like anything he knew.

You feel his weight shift, and your heart thuds as he leans his head on yours, fingers lacing once again.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” He asks, his voice so soft you barely hear it above the roaring in your head.

“I… yeah. Tired.” You mentally kick yourself, chickening out of your true feeling and leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

“You should go to bed-“

“No! I mean… just a minute longer. S’nice.” You murmur, tracing your thumb across his pink knuckles. He lets out a soft sigh, and you feel him relax beneath you.  

You realise as you drift off that you can’t do it - the bet, Jeni, any of it. It was heading to something you didn’t want, a trial you weren't prepared to face.

“Stupid.” You mumble aloud. Jungkook hums at you but you don’t hear as you quickly drift off, the heat radiating from him to you being the only thing that matters.

— —

There was only four days of the bet left.

When you had woken the morning after your night out, you were on the couch alone. You were in the apartment alone. You shifted, only to find a blanket draped over you and the blinds pulled to block out any unwanted light in your fragile state. A fresh glass of water sat on the small coffee table in front of you, and you swallow thickly.

You remembered the night in gory detail, but the essence remained true enough - the bet was over for you. You couldn’t do it anymore, no bedroom was worth it.

And so the next few days had passed uneventfully, slowly and totally alone. You hadn’t seen Jungkook at all since that night, but a glance at the board on the fridge told you that he hadn’t stopped the bet - in fact he’d overtaken you. The wonky lines under his name sliced through you, a chill settling in your chest.

It had begun to feel claustrophobic in the apartment, a constant pressing on your mind and heart. Even though you hadn’t seen Jungkook, knowing he was around was enough. You barely left your room, conscious about running into him.

You waited until he had left for work before you emerged from your room, keen on devouring anything in your path. You’re midway through rummaging in the fridge when a knock raps quickly at your door.

You hesitate for a moment, waiting to see if they would leave. When the knocking continues, however, you decide to answer. Scraping your hair back neatly as you approach the door, you swing it open-

Only to be met with Jeni.

“What?”

“Charming. Is Kookie here? He’s not replying to my texts or calls.”

“Work.” You sigh, ignoring the way she waves her expensive phone inches from your face.

“Hm. Well, maybe I’ll wait for him to come back- we’re talking again, you know.” She smirks at you, smugness radiating off of her as her eyes scan your face for the slightest hint of weakness.

You let nothing slip despite the punch you feel in your gut. You swallow, trying to wet your drying throat.

“Oh really? I didn’t know gargoyles were able to converse. Congrats for your species.” You say, the fakest smile you could mister plastered on your face.

“You’re just jealous, Y/N. It’s obvious.”

“Are you done? I’m bored of this conversation.” You snap, leaning awkwardly against the door.

“You know what, I will wait for Koo-“

“Yeah, I’m gonna be late, I left my keycard at home- oh.” Comes a voice from down the corridor, and you lean out to see Jungkook stopped in his tracks, his eyes rapidly flicking between you and Jeni. He had his phone pressed to his ear, dressed impeccably in his suit and tie, perfectly pressed trousers tailored to his figure. You’d seen him in what he wears for work many times, but it never failed to knock the breath from your lungs.

“Kookie!” Jeni squeaks, fixing him with a wide smile.

“I’ll be in when I can. Bye.” He deadpans into his phone, not waiting for a reply before he ends the call and pockets the device. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my calls-”

“Because I told you I wasn’t going to.” Jungkook’s voice is low, dangerously low, but his eyes are deadlier.

“Jungkook, what are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry you’ve misunderstood me again Jeni, but I told you from the start that nothing would happen between us again. I won’t let you hurt me a second time around.”

The stunned expression on her face is almost laughable, but you do feel a slight tinge of pity for her. It doesn’t last long though. She pulls her expression into a scowl, sneering at him. She casts a sharp glance at you before glaring back at him.

“Whatever Kookie. You’ll come crawling back to me, they always do. Let me know how this all works out.” a spiteful laugh pulls from her lips, flicking a finger between you and Jungkook.

Your eyebrows shoot up as she walks away, letting her hand trace across his bicep as she walks by. You watch the strain on his face as he suppresses a shiver, refusing to move until she was finally gone.

“You okay?” he asks, voice softened as he looks at you. You nod, unable to find your voice.

Panic flushes through you as you step back, ducking back through the door and into the apartment. The gentleness that had crept into his face when he looked at you was too much, it was what you were trying to hide from. You were nearly at your room when his voice hits you, deep, and pained.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You breathe in deeply, steeling yourself. You’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. Jungkook had never liked confrontation, so you were banking on him ignoring the tensions that hangs in the air. You just wanted enough time to forget. To get over him.

“No, I haven-”

“Yes you have, Y/N. What have I done?”

You didn’t want to look back at him. You couldn’t bear to see the galaxy in his eyes. But he deserved a reason. And maybe, finally, once he knew you could breathe a little. There was no glimmer of hope that he’d return the feelings, but at least you could get some space. But getting that would hurt too.

What a fucking mess.

Slowly, you turn on your heels and walk back to the kitchen to meet him. He stands in the doorway, eyes fixed on you. You take a steadying breath, stamping down the fear that begins to rise in your throat.

“You haven’t done anything.”

“There must be something. I don’t want to upset you, Y/N. Talk to me.” He takes a step towards you but you take a step back.

“It’s me, Kook.”

“What? Y/N I’m confu-”

“I like you. Okay? I really like you. Fuck, I don’t want to say the ‘L’ word but...I can’t do it any more.” Your voice shakes and your eyes sting, but you hold strong. His eyes widen as he drags his eyes away from you, and appealing to the dark irony within you, his eyes fix on your scoreboard sitting glaringly on the fridge.

There were your words, your heart, head and hopes all laid out for him.

But he just stares at you. Silently, suffocatingly. Time stretched, and the longer it went on, the blacker your heart felt.

“Jungkook?”

Nothing.

“Please?” You croak, your voice thick.

“Y/N. I don’t know what to say.”

“Spare my feelings, Kook. Just say something.”

His eyes finally meet yours. They’re wide, tainted with a softness that made your chest hurt.

“The ‘L’ word?” He asks, eyebrows pulled together, fingers nervously twitching by his side.

“Love, Jungkook. I love…” But you can’t finish the sentence - not with the way he’s looking at you.

“Why do you love me?” he takes another step forward, eyes desperately searching for an answer in your face.

“I-I don’t know. It just crept up on me. I can’t stop. Believe me, I would if I could.”

“But- but why would you want to?” You frown at him. His words come from a much more innocent place than you imagined, but it stirred up so many feelings inside of you. You chose to focus on anger.

“Because I can’t watch you love other people that aren’t me, Kook. I can’t have my heart broken any more. I don’t want to hurt.”

He steps forward, hand reaching out to hold yours. He fills your senses, and you can’t think straight. Everything becomes him, and as much as you don’t want him to leave, he’s too much.

You step back from him, letting your hand slip from his. His mouth parts as he watches you, the lost expression you’re so used to creeping back onto his face.

“I- I can’t. You’re everything, Jungkook. I can’t let you break my heart again, watching you fall for people who I can’t be.” You walk back slowly, eyes flicking everywhere but him. “I’m gonna go stay with Joon and Jin, and find somewhere else to live-”

“Y/N-”

“It’ll be better for both of us-”

“Y/N!”

“Kook?!”

“I don’t want you to leave me.”

His eyes are wide, but determination seeps through him, his unending need to see things through permeating his very being.

“I- what?” You blurt.

He strides the distance between you in a few easy steps, his hands finding your face before he crashes his lips onto yours, desperate for you to understand just how he feels.

You tense under him, your heart thudding so loudly in your chest you’re sure he could hear it.

But your body lets him in, finally, totally and completely. Your hands knot around his neck, yout eyes fluttering shut as you finally give in to your heart.

His hands gently caress your cheeks as he kisses you, fiercely parallelled by how hard he pressed his lips on yours, small sighs escaping him.

You’re the first to pull back, your arms still pressed against his neck as you explored his face, freely and unashamed. His thumbs drag across your cheek, the universe swimming around you both.

“I… may ‘L’ word you too.” He whispers, a goofy bunny smile sliding onto his face. He tucks his face into his chest, almost as if he was trying to hide.

All the pain and confusion seemed to melt at his words. The weeks, the months, you spent aching for something you didn’t know.

“You do? But what about Jeni?” You ask, and his smile turns sheepish as he looks up at you.

“Oh..uh, yeah. I kinda, was a little, maybe bitter. Jealous. Possibly.” A blush creeps along his face, and it unfurls something hot in the pit of your stomach.

“Bitter about what?” You raise an eyebrow, and his next words are barely above a rushed whisper.

“ParkJimin-”

“What?

“Park Jimin!” He yelps, before hiding his face in your arms.

“Jimin? What’s he got- oh. You were jealous of me and Jimin? Why?”

“Look, I know it’s dumb-”

“It is, yeah.”

“-but I couldn’t help it. You two had some… thing, and you hang out all the time. I just… got caught up in it and the bet. Knowing you’d been with him first and had slept with more than me… it just got to my head.”

“But Jeni…”

“Yeah I know, I wasn’t thinking straight. But she was here, and all I could think about was you.”

The admission stunned you, your jaw dropping.

“So why didn’t you say anything to me?”

Why didn’t you?” He asks quickly, and you feet heat creep across your face.

“Okay, touché. We’re both stupid.”

“Yeah. But not any more.” A smile slides on to his lips, and you mirror him.

“I doubt that.”

He chuckles as he looks at you, bright eyes meeting yours. He brings you forward once again, pressing his lips to yours. It’s softer this time, slower. Something that had been worth waiting for.

You pull back from him, placing your hands on his chest and push him back before you fall in too deep.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” You ask, your voice croaking.

His eyebrows knit as he looks at you, kiss-reddened lips pulled into a pout. But then an easy smile slips onto his face. It shines so bright it felt like you’d been living in shadows your whole life.

“I’ve waited long enough for this. They can have a day without me.”

You smirk, the fire inside you burning as you finally, finally have Jungkook where you wanted him. And you weren’t going to pass this up, not for anything ever again.

You back him against the wall to kiss along his angular jaw and down his throat, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly at your ministrations.

You slide the jacket from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor before you start to undo the buttons on his shirt.

You remove your lips from his neck to watch the shirt slip from his body, the fine fabric rippling off his supple skin. You let your finger drag across his bare chest, excitement bubbling in your chest at finally being able to touch him.  

Meeting his eyes you let one hand slip to his belt, slowly unbuckling it. You let your other hand slip into his pocket, pulling out his phone and handing it to him.

“Call your office.”

He takes the phone tentatively from you, confusion crossing his face. But he does as he’s told, scrolling through his call history, eyes fixed on you.

You wait patiently for his call to go through, your fingers subtly undoing the button on his trousers. Finally his call gets picked up, and you prepare to spring into action.

“Oh hey, it’s Jungkook.”

At his words you rip his trousers and boxers down to his ankles, take his girthy cock in your hand stroke him quickly to his full hardness. Jungkook’s eyes bug out of his head, jaw hanging open as he watches you.  

Y-yea I’m not, oh go-“ he slams his mouth shut, taking a steadying breath as your hand twists around his tip.

“I’m not gonna make it in!” He rushes, heaving a relieved breath.

You can hear them ask why, and hiding your smirk, you wait for him to start replying.

“Oh, uh, my apartment, it’s-“

You take him in your mouth as far as you can, lips wrapping around his cock and pressing your tongue against his underside, dragging off slowly with a pop before taking him again.

“Fuc- f - flooded! It’s flooded. Shit.” He pants, his free hand weaving into your hair as he stares down at you, bunny teeth sunk into his lip.

You twist your hand around his base and you bob up and down on his cock, heady at the precum that oozes into your mouth.

“Oh, I’m f-f-fine. Gotta go!” He yells down the phone before ending the call and throwing it at the kitchen counter.

He lets out a juddering moan, letting both his hands knot into your hair.

“You’re the fucking worst.” He pants, hips rolling off the wall.  

You hum onto his cock, swirling your tongue around him. With each swipe, his hands on your hair pull tighter, the tingling in your scalp that sets you on fire.

You feel him throb in your mouth, and despite the tears that spring to your eyes each time his hips stutter him further down your throat, you can’t take your eyes off him. Breathless, wide eyes watching you take him in, bare chest rapidly rising and falling.

He cries out, quickly but carefully sliding you off his length, the tip oozy and red.

“Not yet. Not yet.” He croaks, before pulling you to your feet.

He walks you backwards into your kitchen counter, before turning you and pinning you against the cool granite.

He leans over you, lips pressed to the shell of your ear as he slides his hands down your body.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time.” He breathes in your ear, and you shiver beneath him.

“You better get on with it.” You murmur, circling your ass into his crotch.

He groans, and furiously yanks down your track pants and panties. He stands back from you to examine you as you sit there, totally exposed to him.

“Kook…” you groan, the cool air meeting your soaking slit.

He says nothing, and you can’t feel him around you. Confusion creeping in, you move to turn around when you feel his tongue lick from your clit all the way along your dripping core.

“Jungkook!”

“Sorry - was admiring the view.”

You squeal as your fingers clench on the counter, his hands moving to grab your ass cheeks. His fingers knead in as he works his tongue, catching just the edge of your clit before he swipes up. He’s perched behind you, on his knees with his face buried in your pussy. The reality of it all makes your face heat, so you lay it back on the counter to cool off.

He only kitten licks, never enough pressure to make your eyes roll back but too good to stop. A light suck on your clit, a fast flick all the way up to you asshole, never anything with substance. Every time you try to roll your hips back for more friction his hands would hold you down, pinned and bent over the counter.

“That feel good baby?” There was a hint of genuineness in his voice, vulnerability that made your heart quiver. And your-

“Jungkook…” you moan, toes curling as he blows cool air across your dripping slit. You were too turned on for his games.

“Not’ Jungkook’.” He whispers, his hand sliding down to run a feather light touch over your throbbing core.

“Wh… what?” It’s more of a moan than a question, but he delivers a light slap across your pussy and you yelp in surprise.

“Call me the other name. The one I like.”

Another quick kitten lick has your hips rolling, the teasing pushing you too far.

“Brat.” Another slap, this time a little harder.

“What was that, Y/N? I didn’t hear you properly.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and as much as you want to turn around and fight him, you want his mouth on you so much more.

“Kook, just eat my fucking pussy already.” You growl. He gives you a small giggle before he obeys.

He begins to eat you out like a man starved, licking fat strips up your length and rolling his tongue across your clit. He groans as he works, fingers kneading into your ass cheeks as he tastes you.

You were practically dripping, Jungkook’s tongue expertly hitting your clit in every way to make you moan.  

He ghosts a finger across your ass, bringing it to your clit to replace his mouth. His mouth moves higher, moving to press just inside your walls. A cry leaves your lips, his finger coating with your wetness they swipe quicker and quicker over your clit.

The tip of his tongue impales you, his moans vibrating you and sending your mind reeling. Your clit throbs beneath his touch, sending you hurtling to your orgasm.

“Jungkook, fuck…”

“Hmm?” He hums, and you groan at his petulance.

“Sorry… brat.” You smirk, only to have him fully pull away at you just as you were at your peak. The absence makes you ache with need, whiney and desperate.

“Jungkook!”

Another slap lands on your pussy and you squeal, the heat of his hand leaving you dripping as the cool air rushed in to replace it.

“Who’s the brat now?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Kook, please!” you shout.

With an incredibly unsubtle laugh, his fingers fly back to your clit, circling faster than before. His tongue seeks you out, pushing inside and letting your wetness coat him.

A cry escapes you as you begin to cum, twitching and bent over the countertop. Jungkook coaxes you through it, whimpers erupting from his throat. He pulls away from you once your gyrating stops, hand gently tracing along your sensitive slit.

On shaky legs he turns you, smiling at your flushed expression and blown out eyes. His eyes scrunch as he pulls you in for a kiss, quick and sloppy, the taste of you fresh in his tongue.

With gentle hands, he hoists you from your ass, settling you on the counter. He comes back to kiss you again, body pressed against you. And despite how tender he was being and how it made your heart clench in your chest, you needed him.

Sliding your hand between your bodies, you take a hold of his cock and begin to rub him up and down your wet slit. His face scrunches, the feeling of you coating him rocking him to his core.

He grabs hold of your hip and places a hand over yours so that you begin to guide him inside of you together. He pushes in slow, the drag of his girthy length inside you sends your head flying back. He frowns as she concentrates, finally bottoming out inside you.

He pulls slowly back out before driving home, the sensation making you both moan.

Pure euphoria is written across his face, an infectious happiness that you find yourself wanting to bask in forever.

You move to meet him, the cool surface beneath you biting into your hot skin. His fingers knit into the bottom of your shirt before tugging at it, pulling it up and off you, His eyes shoot to your bare chest, a groan leaving his lips.

He surges forward, lips latching to your nipple, but his hips never missing a beat as he thrusts deeply into you. A guttural moan of his name leaves your lips.

His tongue swirls over your stiff nipple, the bud aching under his touch. You lean back against the counter, toes curling as you wrap your legs around him.

He’s pushed up on his toes, trying other angles to be able to reach inside you properly without leaving your chest, but he struggles. A whine leaves him as he slides off your breast with a pop, his fingers pressed against your back.

“What’s the matter Kook,” you moan, blurry eyes focusing on him as he drags back out of you. “Can’t reach me?”

A shadow passes his face, a challenge he can’t refuse. Gripping you around the waist, he slides you off the counter, still fully seated inside you.

With your legs wrapped around him, he carries you to the sofa, a smirk on his face. Lowering you both down, his eyes fix back on yours, pressing you into the couch beneath him. With a quick peck, he’s pulling back out of you again and pushing back in, his hips picking back up speed as he pounds you into the sofa.

You wrap your legs around him for support, his forehead coming to rest on yours. You wind your fingers in his hair, holding onto the strands for stability as Jungkook rocks into you. His brow creases in concentration, small gasps and murmurs falling from his lips.

He hits your soft spot inside of you with the drag of his cock and your vision goes blurry. Your fingers tighten in his hair, the pressure making him hiss.

In the blink of an eye he takes hold of your wrists and pins them above your head and you whine, a smirk clear on his face.

“What’s the matter, Y/N, can’t handle it?”

You gasp, rolling your hips particularly viciously at him and clenching as hard as you can. His hips stutter for a moment as he lets his head fall into the crook of your neck, catching his breath.

“Do that again and this is gonna be over very quick.” he pants, and a wave of pride fills you.

“What, this?” You whisper into his ear, rolling your hips and clenching down again on his cock that sat deep inside you.

He picks his head up and kisses your roughly, fingers digging into your wrists. Your hips still, Jungkook sat inside while you enjoy the moment for what it is. He finally releases you and smiles, sparkling eyes and bunny teeth. And all yours.

His hips begin to move again, working you both back towards the fast pace he drilled into you before. You hook your legs tighter around him, pulling him closer to you with every thrust.

He collects both of your wrists in one hand above his head and brings his hand down your arm, fingertips tracing along your skin to your face. He thumbs over your jaw before bringing his hand down to your throat, fingertips ghosting on the delicate skin there.

You suck in a deep breath, eyes latching on his above you, perspiration sticking his hair to his forehead as he smirks down at you.

His hand slides off your throat, and trails down your body to reach between your legs - but not before stopping for a light flick of your nipple on the way down. His finger drag across your clit drawing a moan from you. Your hands twitched in his grip, desperate to feel him. Your hips begin to roll, The pressure inside you mounting.

“Kook, close…”

“Let go for me baby.” He whispers, before pressing his lips against yours.

You manage to snap one of your wrists from his grip, and bring your hand down to twist your fingers in his hair, kissing him back deeply.

A few more circles of your clit and you come undone, Your body juddering beneath Jungkook’s strokes as you see stars. You clench uncontrollably on him, the motion tipping Jungkook over the edge with you.

He cries out against your lips, hips stuttering as he comes inside you. You both ride the sensation out until he lets himself collapse on you, head tucked into the crook of your neck.

He takes a moment for his hips to stop their ministrations, his hot breath fanning against your chest. Finally he lifts his head up and smiles down at you, his nose scrunching at the motion. You smile back at him, totally lost in his eyes.

Sitting back, he pulls himself out of you, stopping to watch his cum drip out of your pussy. Entranced, he runs his fingers along your sensitive clit, your body twitching under his touch.

Gathering up some of the spill, Jungkook slides a finger inside you, pushing it back in.

You immediately clench down on his fingers, your core oversensitive but still completely responsive to him. His fingers build up speed, jackhammering his come back inside of you, his fingers crooked so that they brushed your g- spot with each move.

“Kook, my god!” you yelp, hands curling into the cushions beneath you. Your hips gyrate at the pressure. Despite the sensitivity and the sting, the waves of pleasure that washed through you couldn’t be stopped.

“What was that?” He snarks, before flicking his finger over your clit at lightning speed.

Your orgasm breaks over you, your hips thrusting off the chair as his fingers work, a strangled cry escaping your throat. He only stops when your tired body begins to slow, sliding his fingers out with a smirk on his face.

Once your unfocused eyes finally zero in on his he smiles at you before sticking his finger in his mouth, sucking them clean. A low moan emits from your throat.

“Wow.”

“Wow yourself.” He mumbles, taking your hand and pulling you up. He gently wraps an arm around your waist and flops back on the couch, settling you on his chest.

You sit in silence for just a moment, letting the reality settle into your skin. Finally you rest your chin on his chest, and stare up at him with a smile on your face.

“I told you I could give you an orgasm or three.” He smirks and your sigh, planting your face into his skin. He laughs, the light rumble from his chest shaking you, squeezing your heart tighter.

“You’re the worst. I don’t know why I like you.”

“Well I know why I like you.” He whispers, and you pick your head back up to look at him, teeth sunk into his bottom lip.

A small smile slips onto your face, your heart thudding wildly in your chest as you stare up at him. You bring your hand to brush over his jaw, before stretching up and pressing your lips softly against his own.

You release him and open your eyes, his bright eyes fixed on yours. His hand moves to rest in your hair, the strands woven around his fingers.

“So, do I get Namjoon’s room?”

“Kook! No way-”

“Come on, baby. I kinda did win!”

“You can’t ‘baby’ me! I was in the lead and gave up. If I kept on pace then I definitely would have won.”

“Not fair.” He huffs, but a small smirk turns the corner of his mouth. “How about another bet? First to cum wins.”

You laugh and shake your head, letting your hand smooth down from his jaw to trace across his chest.

“Screw it, be prepared to lose..”

He smiles, leaning forward and pressing his smiling lips against yours. He pulls back to press his forehead against yours, nose scrunched.

“If I’m still yours after, then this is one competition I don’t mind losing.” His whispered words clench in your chest and you giggle, despite yourself.

“You will be, Kook. But I’m still gonna win.”

#btswriterscollective #btssmutclub #btsbookclub #smutcentralnet #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts reader insert #bts x you #bts x reader #bts fic #heartbreak trials #my writing

[dorksndisasters]

Session 9

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They’re good at shenanigans, I’ll give them that

 but they did give me an excuse to bring in Brandi, so like it’s all good lmao

 (we’re like three ahead on the patreon! /scmalarky on there!)

##

Bituin is paying less attention to the card game in front of him and more to Marask and Ophi, who are poking around the wall opposite. It doesn’t look much like the other walls; there aren’t any bricks to it, it’s just… a black void.

Marask pokes it and gets the tip of his finger burnt for his trouble. As he shifts forms to heal (Kark, the kenku beside Bituin, watches with a kind of scornful envy), Ophi comes back over and asks what they know of the wall.

Both the kobold and Kark look to Bituin to answer.

“It’s off-world magic,” he says. “Not like my– your sorcerer’s magic, and definitely not runic.” He sets his cards down and walks over to make a show of examining it.

Bituin places his palm almost against it, and feels the strange promise of death in its voided blackness, but it isn’t… of Death, which is the odd thing. “Not from an Elder God,” he says, and hears Kark scoffs behind him. “But something powerful all the same.” He licks his palm to heal the faint burn, which tastes of the sun.

“Is God,” Kark croaks out. “He is here, he is coming for us, to save us.”

“The other one is friendlier,” says the kobold. “Bit too friendly. Slightly annoying. They ain’t in just now.”

Bituin returns to the game, and finds they’ve shuffled his cards back into the deck.

Carric and Uriel join them after a while, and Bituin watches as Carric and Ophi forcibly break the wall down to reveal the corridor behind it.

Marask seems unwilling to follow them down the corridor. Maybe burning his finger has given him pause.

The door at the end of the corridor is locked, and Uriel gives it a shot first by coaxing her spider into the lock. Something about the lock seems to confuse the spider, and it ends up only locking the door further.

A spell later and they get the door unlocked, and open it to reveal a dark, mostly empty room. Its vaulted ceiling disappears into darkness above them and makes the room seem taller than the rest of the tunnels for that. The wall opposite is fronted by a shrine that looks like it’s been carved out of the floor and wall when the place was built. It’s carved with a raven motif, and though the shallow dish on top of it is empty, there are long black feathers placed about it.

Scattered about the room are long strands of fur in a bright array of colours, all blue and maroon and yellow, like something’s been shedding.

To top it all off, the room carries the same unnerving feeling as the void wall, something like the promise of death.

Marask calls out a few times, but apart from the echoes of his own voice, receives no reply.

Marask drops one of the feathers into the shallow dish on the shrine, and the wall it’s carved out of sparks like a spell’s been partially activated.

Ophi sprinkles some of the fur into it, catching herself on the edge of the shrine as she trips over an uneven stone in the floor, but that does even less than the sole feather.

Marask shifts to half form, and plops himself into the dish. The wall sparks and swirls, losing definition and showing vague shadowy forms in its depth.

Carric pushes a mushroom into it, and it sticks halfway before falling, sliced neatly in two.

#

[Scarlet looks up as the depths of the mirror swirl up, changing to a shadowy blackness that oozes about the edges. “Brandi?”

Brandi steps from her perch in the branches and into the tent. Half a mushroom falls onto the ground from the mirror, and she stoops to pick it up. “That’s… new.” She twirls it in her hand and flips her hood up, shrouding herself in raven feathers and shadows as her cloak grows to reach her feet and pool on the floor about her. “Who uses my brother’s shrine?”

“Who are you?” comes the answer, muffled and distorted. Whatever they’re using to open the way isn’t a direct match, or they’d be able to see as well.

“I am the Bran Rhi.” She draws herself up and the shadows shift about her in a dizzying display.

Scarlet smirks, leaning back against the monarch deer behind her and watching.

“I hope you’re using that with permission.”

“What do you think of crows?” they ask instead, and there might be more than one person on the other side of the spell, but it’s hard to tell with the distortion of the voices.

Brandi raises an eyebrow, holding back her laughter. “I’m more of a raven kind of gal.”

“Who’s your brother?” they ask, and Scarlet claps a hand over her mouth to muffle her snorting laughter.

Brandi shoots a warning glance back at her, but she’s grinning as well. “He is the Bran Sidhe, spirit of death. You’ll know him when you see him.”

The mirror clears in an instant, reflecting Brandi’s image back at her.

Scarlet laughs as Brandi shifts to perch on the deer’s back above her, grinning and childlike, hood down and cloak only reaching her waist. “Should we tell him?”

Brandi giggles. “More fun to leave it to chance, don’t you think? They haven’t caused any harm. Yet.”]

#

Bituin watches as the four of them come hurrying back up the corridor, Marask in the lead, and plunge down the next corridor, and sets down his cards again as he pads towards the empty corridor.

The next door they come to has muffled yells and roars behind it. Opening the door rolls a blast of sudden noise and the heavy reek of sweat over them. Marask gags but follows the others in.

Uriel’s eyes light up at the understanding that this is a fight ring, and instantly pays up to enter a fight. Carric places a bet on Uriel, and then has to watch as, in three rounds, Uriel is beaten by a feral looking lizardfolk who she only manages to fight to a draw once.

Deciding to cut their losses, they leave via Aelfswild’s gutted office and the second tunnel, which leads them to the basement of the Scriptorium.

One awkward conversation with Autag later, they’re out in the early afternoon sunlight with no clear direction to head in.

Marask shifts to bird form and finds Annan’s trail heading towards the centre of the city and the worldgate there.

“Don’t get in my way,” she spits out as he lands before her. She’s wrapped in a cloak, hood up, and there’s blood spattered and drying across her face, and the smell of soot clings heavy to her.

“This way,” Marask says instead, and pulls her into an alley to wait for the others to catch up with him. “What happened?”

“Aelfswild’s dead and I’ll be next if I don’t get out,” she says, antsy and eyes flicking everywhere. “They – they sent a thug, I was going to free him, we were going to escape, I couldn’t-” She wipes at some of the blood on her face, only smearing it further.

They ask her why he was killed, and she snorts, shrugging.

“Probably the– the artefact thefts. The ones going out of the city, they were for someone else, but he– he always kept that part secret from me, I don’t...” She shudders and flicks a glance about the group. “I know roughly where he went for his orders.”

Ophi uses her magic to disguise Annan, and they let her lead them back down into the Black Market (she takes them by the same route they’ve always gone, from the north market, and they wonder if there are any other openings because they’ve not found them yet) and to a corridor off the main market that looks empty.

Here Annan stops and shrugs, looking every bit the innocent old lady that she isn’t. “I always lost him here.”

Upon investigating the corridor, Ophi finds a hidden entrance to a narrow and ill-lit corridor. It ends in a locked door.

Ophi tries to pick the lock and only succeeds in triggering a trap, suffering a minor shock.

Marask hands her a pie, giving Carric a very pointed Look.

Carric then magics the door open, and it swings inward to show them a small room with a chair in the middle that Ophi almost sits in before she notices the leather straps on the arms and legs of it.

Apart from that chair, which faces the door, the room appears empty.

#campaign #dnd #dungeons and dragons #fate rpg #homebrew

[mx-ishikawa]

Like a fire in My Blood

(so uhhh obligatory Lupin self-insert fic!! this is a li’l backstory of how my S/I got involved with the squad that I’ve been working on for the past couple weeks, lmao. warnings for guns, canon-typical violence, and lots of swearing- y’all know me by now XD” enjoy!)

Tied up to a chair in an abandoned warehouse surrounded by gun-toting mobsters was not planned for my Saturday night. Then again, normalcy wasn’t very present in my life anymore.

“Now you’re gonna tell me one more time, sweetheart, where is that treasure?” the squatty man who I assumed was the leader growled, pointing the gun at my face. What the fuck.

“First of all, I am not as sweet as you think I am,” I spat- how the hell was I so snarky staring straight into the barrel of death itself??- “and second of all, I really have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about so quit insisting I do and let me go!” Surprisingly, he lowered the gun.

“You’re a terrible liar, my dear,” he snarled, going over to where my jacket that had been forcibly removed from my person for some reason was hung.

“Buddy, I was raised by an overprotective controlling helicopter mother, I may as well be a professional liar,” I retorted.

“Well then how the hell do you explain this?!”

I gasped as he pulled out the bright, shimmering green stone from my jacket pocket. FUCK.

“Oh THAT! Jesus Christ, I completely forgot I had that, goddamn!”

“Yeah, sure you did.”

“No, I’m dead serious, I actually forgot about that! Literally, if I had remembered that I would’a told you straight-up because that shit is not worth my life!”

“Well then, care to explain now?”

“Yeah okay so it’s like- I went down State Street, past the Cultural Center, then I kinda went through Millenium Park until I got to the Art Institute, then I took a left and once I got past Lakeshore Drive I hopped over to the left again and- that cluster of trees at the park entrance? It’s literally right there in the middle of them, hidden practically in plain sight! I was just trying to find some worms for composting and I find a shit-ton of emeralds instead, how crazy is that?” I laughed breathlessly.

It wasn’t a joke, no, every word I spoke was true. I was so shocked upon finding the stash of emeralds right there in the middle of Chicago that I immediately covered it back up and ran off-- but not before nicking one, if only as proof that the whole thing hadn’t been a weird fever dream. And possibly for future bragging rights, but other than that, material things like rare precious jewels meant nothing to me. The fact that these happened to be in my favorite color was just a cool bonus. 

“Thank you for your cooperation,” the fat man sneered, huffing away at his fat cigar. “I’ll be taking this and the rest of the emeralds now.”

“Go ahead, I don’t need it or any of the others.” I would have waved my hand dismissively had it not been tied behind my back.

“I don’t understand though… what kind of woman would give up such riches so easily?”

  I tried not to gag. I don’t mind being called a woman, but not with that kind of sexist implication. “Not the kind of woman you’re thinking of, that’s for goddamn sure.”

“Ah well. None of that matters in the end.” He paused to snap his fingers, and two of his biggest men approached with their guns. “Finish her off.”

“Whoa wait WHAT?! Why do you wanna kill me, I fuckin’ TOLD you where the emeralds are-?!”

“And I appreciate that, it’s just that I can’t have any witnesses, you know? It’s only business.” he gave a wicked sneer. The men cocked their guns.

“Fuck you and your business, I won’t tell anyone, I swear! You saw how honest I was, come on, please, I-!”

I screamed and screwed my eyes shut as a shot rang out. I braced myself for the worst. But it never came. 

I finally opened my eyes when I heard a “what the hell?!” from among the mobsters. I gasped as I saw another, new person standing protectively in front of me. Someone who appeared to be wearing traditional Japanese attire, with long black hair and an even longer sword. Who was this person and what the hell happened?!

“FIRE!!” the leader yelled. In an instant, the stranger leaped up into the air and lifted their sword, twirling it around effortlessly as shots were fired at them. What were they do-

My thoughts were brought to a screeching halt as a bullet landed next to me. No, it was only half of a bullet. My eyes widened, looking back up at the stranger with the sword. No fucking way.

From that second, my eyes were transfixed on them. I watched them in shock as they sliced literal bullets clean in half with ease. When some of the men ran off, the stranger leapt forward with a low grunt and slashed their sword through the men’s guns. They gasped in shock and fright as their weapons broke clean in half seconds later. There seemed to be thousands of mobsters in this warehouse, but the sword-wielding stranger took everyone down with ease. Even when their sword was suddenly shot out of their hands, they nimbly avoided impact and took the mobsters down with what appeared to be heavily-practiced martial arts moves. 

Now I’d seen my fair share of bloody fights since mingling with the underground scene in Chicago. Hell, even back in my tiny hometown I’d seen some shit. But never had I seen someone fight so gracefully. Every move they made was so smooth and poised that if I didn’t know any better I’d have thought they were dancing. They caught sight of their sword from across the room and leapt out of the fight to snatch it back. Every move they made with that thing was quick and clean-cut, deliberate and precise, effortlessly slashing anything that came their way. When seemingly every gun was destroyed or emptied of bullets, only a few brave unarmed mobsters remained, but with a few fluid flicks of the swordfighter’s wrist, all of their clothes were slashed off save for their boxers and tighty whities. Not exactly a sight for sore eyes, but it was enough to make even the leader of the mob run away screaming for their lives. 

“Haha, take that ya old geezer!” someone yelled. I gasped and finally diverted my attention from the swordsman to find two more people were in the warehouse, someone with a red jacket and another with a black one. When the hell did they get here??

In that brief moment when I looked away, the graceful warrior had come behind where I was sitting, and before I could plead for them not to kill me, I was freed from the ropes that bound me. I pulled my arms forward and breathed heavily, trying to process what the FUCK just happened when a voice behind me spoke.

“Are you alright?”

Their voice was deep and strong, yet held no tone of aggression or danger. I turned to look at my savior and gasped. It was a handsome- no, beautiful- man. He was tall and slender, standing strong and proud. His pale skin glistened with a thin coating of sweat from all that movement, and I couldn’t help but notice that he wore his shirt in a way that exposed most of his chest. His hands were large and strong, but with long, nimble fingers. He had a narrow face and elegant features. High cheekbones, a defined jawline, a light rosy dusting on his cheeks, and intense, dark eyes. He looked to be stoic and serious, and if he hadn’t just saved my life I might have been intimidated by him. 

“I… wow~... I mean! I’m… safe, thanks to you.”

“And us, too!” a voice from earlier retorted. I whipped my head around, it was the man in the red jacket. “It was a team effort, wasn’t just him ya know.”

“Jeez Lupin, give her a break,” the man in black said, “you weren’t the first one to make sure she wasn’t dead!”

“Well I think I deserve some credit too, Jigen!” the man in red- Lupin- whined.

“I uhh… well thank you everyone but… I didn’t actually see what you two did.

“What?!” Lupin gasped.

“Sorryyy! I just...” I turned back to the handsome swordsman, “you were the first one I saw show up so I guess I just kinda… focused on ya.”

The man called Jigen chuckled. “Hey Goemon, looks like you got an admirer!”

“Hey!” I felt my face heat up. “I just-!” I bashfully looked again to the swordsman- Goemon.

“Goemon… thank you, and your friends, for sa-” I cut myself off as realization clicked in my brain. “Wait a second…” Lupin. Jigen. Goemon. I’ve heard those names together before. “Wait just a minute, I know who you guys are!” Lupin let out a monkey-ish giggle.

“Took ya long enough to recognize me! No surprise though, I am pretty infamous~”

“So it’s safe to assume you’re after the same treasure those mobsters were, right?”

“Bingo,” Jigen said, tipping his hat ever so slightly.

“So, if you guys wanted to get there first… why did you save me?”

“Because unlike them, we do not want harm to come to innocent people,” Goemon nobly spoke. God, something about his voice… clear as a bell, soothing, and undeniably sexy. But his words put me at ease. 

“Oh thank god… so, since you saved my life and all that, how ‘bout I make your lives easier by leading you to the emeralds?”

“Sounds good to me,” Jigen said, and the others agreed. They casually strolled out of the warehouse as if they hadn’t just fought off mobsters in that very space, off to their car parked in front. Lupin took the driver’s seat while Jigen got in the passenger side, leaving Goemon and me to sit in the back together. 

“So,” Goemon spoke once we got moving. Was it just me or did his cheeks get pinker? “What is your name?”

I froze. Shit.

“Uhh… I… I kinda have a beef with my real name, but uh, you can just call me Light.”

“Light, huh?” Lupin piped up from the front. “Where’d ya get that alias from?”

“It’s a long story,” I chuckled.

Goemon shifted in his seat. “I like it.” Cue me blushing again.

“Y-you do?? I mean, thanks…” I scratched the back of my neck. His only response was a nod as he crossed his arms in front of his broad chest.

He was quiet for the rest of the ride, Lupin and Jigen making most of the conversation as I pointed out where to go. But I couldn’t stop looking over at Goemon. He looked so calm, so picturesque. I admired the way the wind wafted through his long locks and how his thick lashes rested against his rosy cheeks. And sometimes, when I glanced over at him, I found him looking right back at me. Like he wanted to say something to me, but didn’t. Something in his eyes made him look so soft. When I first looked at him, those eyes stared right through my soul and meant business, but now there was something much more tender behind them. Almost like… puppy eyes. I felt myself swallow thickly.

My thoughts were brought to a halt when Lupin parked the car on the side of the street. All we had to do was cross Lakeshore Drive and we were on our way to the treasure. Thankfully it was dark out and we’d be less noticed.

“Thank god there’s a bridge here,” Jigen said, puffing at his cigarette. “Because I am not crossing that son of a bitch.”

“Yeah my mom and I made that mistake the first time I was here, we were standing there waiting to get across for ages.”

“Wait, I thought you lived here?” Lupin inquired as we made our way across.

“I do now,” I clarified. “Didn’t always though. For most of my life I lived in this shitty small town about an hour and a half away from here. I’d visited here about six times, so naturally this was my first choice when I finally got the chance to get the fuck outta there. Haven’t been here for very long though, only like what, a couple months maybe?”

“So you were a small-town gal, eh?” Jigen exhaled another breath of smoke. I grimaced.

“Yeah, and I hated it.”

Once we got across the drive and to the site of the emeralds, Lupin started asking more questions.

“So Light, if you were the first person to find this treasure, how come you only took one and not the whole stash? Was it a strategic thing or-”

“Well actually, I found this shit completely by accident, so leaving all but one here was mostly out of shock. That, and I never really cared much for material shit.” Jigen sighed from next to me as he dug.

“Finally, a woman who doesn’t.”

My brows furrowed together. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Hey, if you’re talking about Fujiko again, you’d better can it!”

“Wait, who’s Fujiko??”

“A female affiliate of Lupin’s,” Goemon answered.

“A very unfaithful one at that,” Jigen scowled, “she’s not above stabbing us in the backs to get the loot we earned for herself.”

“Oh come on guys, she doesn’t always betray us!” Lupin whined.

“Makin’ excuses for your girlfriend again,” Jigen grumbled. I dared not make any further comment on this Fujiko thing; seemed like a personal problem. Once we finally uncovered the jewels, I helped load them into a large sack.

“Even if you do not care for material items such as these, it is only fair that you are given a share of them,” Goemon spoke.

“Yeah, we’ll split ‘em up evenly between the four of us!” Lupin smiled.

“Awww~. You know…” I began, “for a group of rag-tag thieves, you guys are pretty nice. Nicer than half the law-abiding citizens I’ve met in my lifetime.”

“Well, you know, it’s all in a day’s work!” Lupin chirped, before his voice suddenly dipped a bit lower. “And you know, you and I could work well together in other areas~”

Goemon bopped Lupin’s head with the hilt of his sword before I could think of a response. Did Lupin just flirt with me??

“Jesus Christ, Lupin, get ahold’a yourself,” Jigen scolded.

I wasn’t sure how to respond so I kept quiet until we were finished with our work, and almost immediately someone caught us.

“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE LUPIN, YER UNDER ARREST!!” a loud, booming voice yelled. I looked over and saw a tall, stocky man who appeared to be dressed like a detective from the 1940s with a slew of police behind him.

“Oh shit, the feds!” I gasped as we took off.

“Sorry Pops, I got places to go!” Lupin snickered. We sprinted through the park- god I always hated running- until we got to a dock. The man known as “Pops” was hot on our trail, but the guys hopped into a boat and managed to start it up. I was the last to hop into the boat- but I tripped and dropped my bag of emeralds, which thankfully landed inside the boat with a clattering. I braced myself for an awkward landing but a pair of strong arms caught me. And just like that, the boat sped off so quickly that I had to brace myself against whoever was holding me. I heard “Pops” yelling in the distance, but my brain turned it into white noise when I looked up and saw that once again Goemon was my rescuer- and my hand was directly on his chest. My face flamed up like gasoline.

“Gwaaah!! Uhh-” I gasped as I embarrassedly scurried out of his grasp. “Thank you, sorry-!” I brushed my bangs out of my face, a nervous habit.

“Why are you apologizing?” Goemon asked. “There is nothing to be sorry for.”

“Yeah, you helped us get to the treasure!” Lupin said from the steering wheel.

“If anything, we should be the sorry ones because now you’re stuck with us and your home is back there,” Jigen chuckled.

“Eh, home is where the heart is,” I said. “And my heart always wants to travel but never gets to.”

“Ah, a free spirit, I see how it is,” Lupin giggled.

“Lord I was born a ramblin’ man~” Jigen softly sang, lighting a cigarette.

“Yeah… I hate staying in one place for too long. Unfortunately for me, I’ve only ever lived in two places my entire life, and we’re rowin’ this boat away from one of them. But hey, this was my first time being personally caught doing something illegal so I’ve been perfectly prepared to just abandon ship and take off at any time.”

“Wait, does this imply you were planning on this? I thought you said you found these gems by accident!” Lupin gasped. I had to laugh.

“Nono, I did! But that doesn’t mean I’m innocent~.”

“So what the hell is it you do?” Jigen asked.

“I’ve been involved in undercover transport of goods, it’s what I do for a living. And before you ask because I know you will, yes, some of those goods are drugs, but not all of it. Sometimes we assist in the trading of riches like these emeralds, and sometimes we get food and water or money for bills to those in need when their so-called government aid won’t. Yeah sure it’s illegal, but it ain’t a bad gig.”

“My ancestors would greatly honor the work you do,” Goemon calmly spoke. The compliment caught me off guard, but when I looked at him I could tell he was sincere.

“Aww shucks, it’s nothing,” I chuffed, scratching the mack of my neck.

“Please tell me your organization is named “The Robin Hood Project” or something like that,” Lupin laughed.

“Actually, we have no name to our services,” I clarified. “Gotta stay discreet.”

“A wise decision,” Goemon said.

“Sorry if we just got you out of a job,” Lupin apologized.

“Naw, this ain’t like no 9-5 gig, it pretty much runs on a ‘come whenever you’re available’ basis, they’ll understand if I’m away… might be surprised once they find out I got wrapped up with Lupin the Third, haha.”

“That’s my name, please wear it out!” the aforementioned thief giggled.

There was a brief moment of quiet before Goemon spoke once again, turning to me. “If you wish to go wherever the wind takes you, then it seems the wind is blowing in your favor tonight,” he nobly said.

“Sorry about him, he likes to get all prophetical and speak in metaphors and shit,” Jigen said.

“No I understand what he’s saying,” I said to Jigen, but I was looking more at Goemon. Was it just me or did he have a small smile on his face? I returned him a smile just in case. “Thanks again for, y’know saving me and everything. Thanks to everyone but… especially you.”

“Yep, she’s your admirer alright,” Lupin laughed.

“Shush up!!” Goemon and I somehow said in unison, before we exchanged shocked glances with each other.

“Jinx! You owe me a Coke!” I yelled excitedly.

“Uhhh…” Goemon averted his gaze and his eyes darted all over, looking confused. It was strange, seeing the man that took down an entire armed mob with nothing but a katana and his own fleetness look so innocent, but that only added to his charms. Oh no, he was way too cute.

“You don’t actually owe her a Coke man, it’s just a thing people say,” Jigen chuckled. Goemon sat forward and crossed his arms, looking slightly embarrassed.

“American expressions of speech remain a mystery to me,” he grumbled, cheeks flushing a deeper rosy pink. Yup, he’s way too adorable. My heart fluttered just looking at him. I was doomed. I was so doo-

“LUPIN YOU LITTLE WEASEL!! STOP THAT BOAT RIGHT NOW, YER UNDER ARREST!!!”

“That same guy again?!” I gasped as a blinding spotlight was cast on us from what I assumed was a police boat.

“Pops, you’re relentless!” Lupin yelled from the front of the boat.

“Sorry, we got places to go and shit to steal!” Jigen chuckled before promptly shooting out the spotlight. This time Goemon deliberately held me flush against him as we sped away from “Pops” for the second time and into the night.

#my writing #self ship #lupin iii #self insert #goemon ishikawa xiii #self shipping #self insert fic #self shipping community #arsene lupin iii #daisuke jigen #Pops appears but only briefly lmao #self ship fic #s/i fic #f/o: Goemon #pf/o: Lupin #pf/o: Jigen #just when I needed to be lucky

[arrow-guy]

Author and Auror (7/??)

Synopsis: Eleanore Vaughan has never been one for the spotlight. Her cousin, Rosaline, is the one best suited to the limelight, and is happier for the attention. Though Nora is most comfortable tucked away in her book shop, what happens when Grindelwald’s sudden takeover flips her world upside-down and thrusts her into the inner circle?

A/N: Okay, this chapter is particularly Dramatic and we’ll learn a little more about Nora than we have in other chapters. She’s a little more assertive than she’s been in previous chapters, which was kind of fun to play around with. Again, I am quite a bit behind where @thorne93​ is in our collaboration, but I’ll catch up eventually. Until then, please enjoy lmao

Previously, with Rosaline....

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong​

Pairing: Theseus ScamanderxOFC

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Canon typical violence, dueling, minor injury

part 6

Twelve aurors sit around the table with Theseus at the head. Tina sits to his right with me on his left and Newt next to me. The aurors grow restless after fifteen minutes of silence and Theseus finally decides to start the meeting.

“As you all very well know, we’ve had a break in the Rosaline Vaughan case,” he says. “Seeing as she’s paired with one of the most feared wizards in the world, we should be wary of what this could mean for the wizarding leadership in England.”

“And just what does that mean?” a blond auror asks.

“I’m sure you all remember Ms. Vaughan’s campaign for minister several years back, Dawes. While I myself have not been fully privy to her dealings between then and now, I’m certain that her cousin is more than capable of explaining.” He gestures for me to speak.

“Rosaline was at the top of her class at Hogwarts. She worked her way through the ministry ranks in a few short years and began campaigning for Minister. She’s powerful and wicked smart. Grindelwald, as you very well know, is also powerful, and extremely dangerous. Now he’s coupled himself with Rosaline. I don’t know what he’s planning to do with her, but she’s still very influential in many ministry circles and has maintained just about every contact from when she was running for minister. If he can use that to his advantage, all hope for us could be lost.”

“And what makes you think she’d do any of that?”

I snort. “Who in their right mind would get engaged to Grindelwald? She’s probably bewitched, or something.”

“You’ve got no way to prove that. What if she just wanted more power for herself?” Dawes asks, looking much too smug for my liking.

“Are you mad?!” I hiss, my anger getting the better of me.

“Rosaline wasn’t power hungry,” Newt interjects. “She stepped away from her campaign, didn’t she? She was a hair's breadth away from being one of the most powerful people in wizarding London, and she walked away. Why would anyone looking for power take a job as an assistant to a magizoologist? The closest they’d ever get to power is a dragon, and they’re not exactly the type to help anyone with anything.”

Dawes goes silent, scowling at both Newt and I.

“What’s wrong, Dawes?” I ask. “ You look as if someone stuffed a wedge of lemon in your mouth.”

He snorts. “It’s just that I’ve got to wonder exactly why a shop attendant and a zookeeper are being brought onto a case as important as this.”

I shove my chair back from the table, wand already in hand. Theseus places a hand on my shoulder, silently telling me to stand down.

“Are you questioning my judgement?” he asks, his eyes narrowing.

“No, sir, I just-”

“You don’t seem to understand these two as well as I do,” Theseus says. “Eleanore Vaughan was the best dueler in her graduating year. Newton Scamander, my brother, has more experience tracking and detaining living beings than anyone in this room.” Dawes says nothing. “Do you need a demonstration?”

I watch as he tries to sink down into his chair.

“I’d pay to see that,” the witch sitting next to Tina says.

Murmurs of agreement ripple through the Aurors in the room and I look to Theseus with satisfaction. Newt has one hand covering his mouth to hide his smile and I see Tina choke back a laugh.

“Do you think you’re up for a duel, Dawes?” I ask. “It’s been nearly fifteen years since I was in school. A lot can change.” Theseus snorts and I smack his arm.

I can see Dawes eye twitch. “Only if you want to,” he says indignantly.

“Then it’s settled!” I push myself up from my chair and gesture to the doorway. “Shall we take this outside?”

“Fine,” he grumbles.

It’s a quick walk down to the training rooms. There are still groups of young aurors working out and duelling one another when we walk in. All activity ceases as soon as Theseus walks through the doors. Every single trainee stands at attention until Theseus says otherwise. He tells them to line up against the walls and put up shield charms to protect them from any stray spells, jinxes, or hexes.

“Sorry, sir, but who exactly’s gonna be duelin’?” one trainee asks.

“Auror Dawes has so kindly volunteered himself to duel Ms. Vaughan today,” Theseus explains. “I expect you’ll understand what you’re meant to learn once the duel is over.”

Murmurs ripple through the congregated aurors and trainees. I block them out as I get into position at one end of the gym. Dawes takes his time getting into position, stripping his jacket and shirt off as he goes, leaving him in a white singlet and his slacks. I raise my eyebrows and look to Theseus who just shrugs and walks over.

“He’s trying to intimidate you, I think,” he says.

“Hm,” I hum and tuck my wand back into my pocket and work open the top button of my blouse. “Suppose I’ll have to do the same, yeah?”

Theseus blushes but laughs all the same when I’m down to my crimson silk camisole. He takes my vest and top from me and backs off to the sidelines to referee. There are several whistles from the trainees as I pull my hair back into a loose bun and ready my wand.

“Come on, Dawes. You may be under the employ of the Ministry, but I haven't the time to stand around all day and wait for you to finish with your little stretches.”

Dawes looks up and his face goes beet red when he takes in my appearance. “Aren’t you a little indecent?”

“Same could be said of you with that gut you’re working on there. I should expect an experienced dueler to appreciate a full range of motion. Now,” I lift my wand. “Shall we blither on like idiots, or duel?”

I can practically hear him grind his teeth from where I stand and I have to forcibly keep a smirk from my face. We bow to one another and ready our wands. Dawes is the first to act, throwing a loud and aggressive incarcerous at me with little thought. I cast a quick protego and the spell fizzles out before it even reaches me. In retaliation, I cast a stinging jinx and a full body bind one after the other. Dawes is only able to protect against the first jinx and his hit with the body bind immediately after. He struggles against the spell and growls angrily. I tilt my head to the side and wait for him to break free of the spell.

“Nora…” Theseus warns.

I wave him off and turn back just in time to see Dawes free himself and advance on me, sending a cutting curse my way. I dodge it and glare at him.

“You tried to cut me?!” I hiss.

“We never set rules, remember?” He seems much too pleased with himself

“Diffindo,” I hiss. I flick my wand at him and a small cut slices vertically up his bicep.

He cries out and grabs at his injured arm. He tries to fire off another spell but I shield myself from it before casting silencio coupled with a flipendo. He manages to right himself and stumbles to his feet, hands immediately flying to his mouth. He tries to say something and nothing comes out. I cast locomotor mortis and his legs snap together. Next comes a full body bind, and a quick depulso sends him flying across the room. He slides to a stop against the wall. I crouch down beside him and tilt his chin up with the tip of my wand.

“Don’t ever fucking question me again. Do you understand me?” He nods frantically and I point my wand at his mouth. “Finite incantatem.”

I walk away from him and he calls after me.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

I shake my head. “No you’re not.”

Theseus snorts and hands my blouse back. I spell the wrinkles from it and shrug into it, swiftly doing up the buttons and tucking it into my slacks. I leave my vest unbuttoned and turn to address the onlookers.

“So. What have we learned today?” I ask.

“That you should be a fucking auror, that’s what,” one young man says. The room erupts into laughter.

“Aside from that,” Theseus says.

“Overconfidence is useless,” a mousy girl says. “And underestimating our opponents can be deadly, if not, in the very least, bad for our health.”

“Exactly. Now, as you were.” Theseus pulls one of his aurors to the side as we’re headed for the door. “Get him to a healer. If they ask what happened, just tell them he was a prick and got what was coming to him.”

They nod and hurry over to help Dawes to his feet and usher him out the door as soon as he’s steady enough.

“I genuinely didn’t mean to cut him that deep,” I mutter as they stumble past. “Think I may have gone a little overboard there at the end.”

Theseus shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. I meant what I said. He got what was coming to him. After all this time out of school, you’re still a brilliant dueler.”

“Aw, you’re just saying that.”

He shakes his head and slings one arm over my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “I would never, and will never say anything to you that I don’t mean.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I need to ask you something.”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Newt has been avoiding Tina, hasn't he? And whenever Rosaline is mentioned he goes quiet,” I lift my eyebrows and he presses his lips together. “Quieter than usual, anyways. I was told he wouldn't stop talking about Tina after he came back from the state's, but something has changed since Paris.”

“I can't answer a question you haven't asked, Theseus.”

“Has he got feelings for Rosaline?”

I nod slowly. Theseus sighs. “I haven't known very long. He told me when we were in Norway.”

“Why didn't he say anything sooner?”

I glance around and pull him into his office when I'm sure the coast is clear. “You know how your brother is. He's not exactly the most socially adept, he'll admit that freely enough, and when Rosaline started working with him she'd said something about not wanting anyone to break her heart.”

He scowls. “Surely that couldn't have been true after all these years.”

“Perhaps, but he took it to heart and did his best to move on. But Rosaline confessed that she loved him in Paris and then, well… everything went pear shaped. Newt is still processing things, and certain things have been pushed aside while he does that.”

“His relationship with Tina.” I nod and he scrubs a hand over his face. “Alright then… do you think it's wise to have her on this case given the circumstances?”

“She's a damn good auror. It'd be a shame to waste her skills, especially given the fact that her sister joined Grindelwald.”

“Of course. Then we've got our team then, don't we?”

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

Part 8

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, please reblog, comment, and/or shoot me ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

#theseus scamanderxreader #readerxtheseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #reader x theseus scamander #theseus scamander #newt scamander

[blueluneacy]

I just saw your post and I was the anon who requested an nsfw continuation of Kakyoin x fem s/o. I’m sorry to have made you uncomfortable by not adding that it would be a post time skip. If it’s okay and if I didn’t offend you, might I request the nsfw continuation where she escaped Kakyoin and finished college before he finds her once more?

I’ve been wanting to get to this for a while. Just a note that no one ever had offended me, I was never upset with you all. If anything, I was upset with myself because I felt weak that I couldn’t do it. Weak that I couldn’t fulfill the things people were asking me to write. I’ve never been good with self confidence or telling people no, so putting up boundaries was something that was really big for me. I don’t want anyone to feel bad for previously not following the new rules, because guess what? The rules are new, it’s no big deal that a mistake was made. Mistakes are what make people human.

Okay, now that I’m done being emotional, here’s some cherry dick lmao

This is a bit of a whirlwind. It was supposed to be longer but my brain started making the dial up tone whenever I brought up this document so we’re just gonna leave it here. Okay? Okay.

Warnings: implied stalking, implied kidnapping, yandere, roughness, non consensual touching, bondage, dub con

It was hard not to check behind yourself at all times now. It felt so much safer to be checking behind yourself, making sure no one was there. Because you always felt like he might be there, waiting to grab your wrist and pull it towards him like he did on that corner. It was crazy, you felt crazy. But you still kept checking. It was the only thing that made you feel some semblance of peace.

But he was gone, you told yourself. After his trip to Egypt, Kakyoin never returned. Maybe he ran away. Maybe he just got sick of you. You never really could tell. It didn’t matter much to you. You let yourself go through your paranous haze, through college and graduation into the real world alone, always looking behind yourself. You didn’t tend to make friends, but well, wasn’t that normal for you at this point? Not in high school either… And after what happened with Kakyoin, maybe it was better that you didn’t. The last time you were friendly with someone, look where it got you. Still, there probably was no helping it, anyway. You had to go out sometimes, not just stay in your room cooped up for the rest of your life. At least, that’s what your roommate thought.

“Come on. You graduated a year ago, and you still haven’t gone out. You don’t work tomorrow, you know!” She pointed out. You sighed, shrugging. 

“I know, but I’m sort of tired, and bars are just so loud…” You tried to reason, but she wouldn’t have any of it. She just hushed you, telling you to get ready. Maybe it would be for the best that you went out. Could you keep living your life meandering back and forth from work and sitting in your room to try and forget all of the tragedies of your life before. Or at least, it would be easier to drown them in alcohol.

So, you went. You let yourself get dragged down to that bar, complaining the whole time the two of you walked there. You knew she would leave you behind for some guy she found for the night, and you’d be left alone with whatever creep happened to sit next to you until you shambled your way home, drunk and alone. And still, you let yourself get dragged along, sitting down at a table while your roommate ordered you a few drinks, then left you to your own devices, hoping you’d take the initiative to talk to some new people. 

You never did. Instead, you just sipped your drink, watching the people around you. It seemed she found someone nice to spend the night with, at least. You felt a slight sense of bitterness to it. No one would ever look at you that way, and you weren't sure that you even wanted them to. It might remind you of how he dragged you along to his home, the way his stand wrapped around your wrists-

You checked behind yourself again. Checking behind you always made those thoughts go away. A strange, simple trick to make you feel safer. It worked, that's all it needed to do. Even if it seemed odd. It’s not like it really ever ruined your interactions with others, since you weren’t too keen on starting them in the first place. Still, maybe you shouldn’t have checked as long as you did, looking over the people behind you just to make sure he wasn’t there. You might have noticed the person who sat down in front of you.

In a sense, he hadn’t changed much. His hair was a bit longer than before, but that piece of curls still came over his face just like you remembered. You noticed scars by his eyes, but that didn’t bring you away from the look in those eyes that brought you nothing but immeasurable fear. Something of obsession and victory. You didn’t speak, you only stared at him in horror, trying to figure out where you went wrong. Where exactly you had messed up, what was it that made Kakyoin find you again.

“It’s been a while. I never took you as the type to enjoy a place like this.” Kakyoin started off the conversation in such a casual tone, you felt sick to your stomach. You weren’t sure what you expected, but it certainly wasn’t that. It wasn’t a calm and casual man acting as if his interest of you bordered on derangement and had forcibly taken you away from your loved ones. You just swallowed, looking away from him.

“Yeah. A bit.” You shrugged, trying to pass off yourself as some semblance of collected, but you could feel yourself starting to crack. You looked around to try and find your roommate, but you couldn’t see her anywhere. You were in a crowded room, alone with a monster.

“Going somewhere?” Kakyoin asked, a smirk on his face as he watched you search for some sort of escape. It was as if he liked to see how you squirmed, relished in the capture of what he had been searching for for so long. That wasn’t the type of obsession you were used to, but it still scared you all the same.

“Actually, yeah. I think I am. It was nice seeing you again, Kakyoin, but I’ve had enough to drink for the night.” You stood up, looking Kakyoin dead in the eye before pushing in your chair and starting to walk away, quickly out of the bar. You looked back one more time. He didn’t follow you. 

You trudged through the dark streets, huffing a bit as you walked on. Home, home sounded good. You already regretted leaving home in the first place, this all just made it that much worse. You could get under your covers and sleep while your stand sat and kept watch, or… Something. Anything. Anything was better than feeling unprotected against him. And yet, you still didn’t check behind you. There was no way he was following you, right? You turned the corner, not realizing you were stepping into the dark until the hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you in. 

You gasped, immediately trying to squirm away, but to no avail. You turned to see him again, swallowing as you began to squirm, hoping to get away from the man, but to no avail. Kakyoin pushed you up against the wall, a low growl coming from his throat as he started to press up against you, cooing into your ear.

“I missed you so much, dear. Did you miss me too?” He asked. You cried out, only to have Kakyoin’s fingers shoved into your mouth. You squealed, biting down on Kak’s fingers. He gasped, pulling away, then looked over you, tutting.

“Now now, I don’t need any love bites, sweetheart.” His voice was sickening, condescending, and you just shuddered, tears beginning to fall over your face. You brought out your stand, but still, Kakyoin was so much stronger than you. Hierophant Green easily wrapped around it, leaving you helpless against the man in front of you. Kakyoin just smiled, lovingly pushing a piece of hair out of your face.

“You’re still so beautiful. And you’ve waited for me after all this time, just like I knew you would.” He laughed, leaning in to your neck and humming before giving you a harsh bite. You gasped, crying out and beginning to squirm again. Kakyoin just tutted.

“Don’t be like that. Come on, I’m going to make you feel so good you won’t be able to live without it.” Kakyoin told you, before shoving a hand into your pants. You gasped, squirming again, only to find yourself rubbing right against Kak’s fingers in a way that felt so much better than anything you had ever done to yourself. You gasped, trying to hold back a moan. Kakyoin just chuckled, touching you as he left kisses up and down your neck.

“That’s it, give into me. I know exactly what you like, what you want. You deserve this, need this even. Need me, just like I need you.” Kakyoin cooed into your ear. You moaned and shuddered. God, this shouldn’t feel so good, but it did, it so did, and you didn’t know exactly what you were supposed to do, your body phantomly bound by the way Hierophant Green held onto your stand. 

“K-Kakyoin, pleeeease…” You whined, but you weren’t sure exactly what you were begging for, for him to stop or for him to give you more. Luckily, he seemed to decide for you. You heard the clicking of his belt, and gasped, swallowing a bit and refusing to look down. He just chuckled at your sudden shyness.

“Don’t worry darling, you know I would never hurt you. Not when I’m the only one who cares.” He told you, and you looked at him again to see that same obsession that frightened you. The same obsession those eyes held all those years ago. You tried to look away again, but Kakyoin removed his hand from your pants, using his defiled hand to make sure you were looking at him. You were forced to face that morbid obsession, that terrorized you for all those years. It was in front of you, and it was real, melding with pleasure you never thought you could attain. A forbidden fruit you thought would never fall.

“Not when I’m the only person who loves you.”

#kakyoin x reader #noriaki kakyoin x reader #kakyoin/reader #noriaki kakyoin/reader #yandere x reader #yandere fic #yandere/reader #yandere #not sfw #dub con #writing #my writing #mine #Anonymous

[storytellingandtea-blog]

:D :D :D “no questions, no lies” + Itachi/Shisui

Soooo this turned into a full-on oneshot. I think this might be the longest thing I’ve written that isn’t abandoned and/or a WIP lmfao. It is 3 am and I just finished this, so it’s probably got mistakes and typos and such. I’ll probably edit this up and re-post this to Ao3 at some point, if I don’t hate it in the morning. I was really tempted to just leave if off on the angst and have it as a maybe hopeful, maybe bleak ending, but I thought I’d be a bit nice, since I know you like HEA lmao. That said, I do think the ending paragraphs with the hopefulness are the weakest/most rushed-feeling bit. I was initially intending to end it just at the last text divider thing. I hope you still like it, though

AU: Time travel, aged up Itachi (he’s probably in his mid teens around the massacre). Probably OOC.

Warnings: Very heavy angst, dark themes. Mentions of suicide/suicidal thoughts, self-worth/self-image issues, general Itachi angst.

Word Count:  ~4,400

Ao3 link: Edited version is up! Read on Ao3 for best experience b/c I keep losing my formatting when I try to paste the updated version in here xAx

Mandatory link to my new ItaShi playlist: here

Fic is below the cut

Shisui took a sudden pause from their frantic dash through the trees, a determined glint in his eyes as he took the opportunity to Shunshin to his cousin’s side, hand reaching forward.

“Itachi… what..?” Shisui gripped Itachi’s shoulder and forcibly stopped him, hauling them both down to the ground as gently as he was able, fixing Sharingan red eyes on the younger man. So much had happened in the past hour that it took him much too long to process things enough to even question what the ever-loving hell had happened, though it did speak for his level of trust in his cousin, as well. Even so, he still didn’t know where to start “What is going on? I… are you hurt? What— what did you do? Why are we running? My eye — how..? Danzō? The-the foundation?”

A face much too old, too tired, too… bereaved, yet reservedly fond in the same way it had been for years gazed back at him, unable to meet his eyes. A familiar stranger.

Strained lines on his face, a voice too deep, too haggard and husky for someone so young, replied, a taint of blood and death on his breath , “…I— I cannot, Shisui, do not ask this of me. Not-not until it is safe for you in Konoha. Do not force me to lie to you. Do not force me to make you forget.” His voice trembled. Trembled. Shisui didn’t want to think too hard into what could have broken Itachi this way. There was no other way Shisui could begin to describe it. At some point, the fragile points in his dear friend had shattered, when he wasn’t looking, and no one was there to pick up the pieces, to soothe the jagged edges. Shisui, busy, perhaps willingly blind, Sasuke too young, his parents too caught up in their troubles… They had failed him, and Shisui had to make it right, regardless of what Itachi seemed to believe of his own actions. There was little that Itachi could do that would turn him away. It kind of hurt to think that the young man didn’t seem to believe so. That he could think so poorly of himself, of their bond. Of him. Shisui refused to even consider that Itachi had, in fact, done something unforgivable. He simply wasn’t that type of person.

“Itachi…” Shisui sighed, and bit his lip when he saw the expression on Itachi’s face, deciding against pushing the issue, for now. He’d just have to do his best to help, without knowing anything beyond what he could read off the familiar stranger’s face.  “… all right, ‘tachi. Just… please. Are you… are you injured? Surely we’re far enough away for me to look you over?” Shisui pressed all the concern and hurt he could into his tone, refusing to feel guilty as he resisted the urge to rub his still-throbbing eye, the one that Itachi had re-implanted not half an hour ago.

He had lost time, waking up in a cave with Itachi by his side some time after falling into the water, impact shocking his body like a block of ice. (In another world, another time, Shisui had given a final, parting gift to Itachi before falling to his death. Itachi had refused to allow it, not again.)

His right eye had been aching when he bolted into consciousness, but was most definitely there behind the careful wrapping around his head. Itachi was hovering above him, but oddly unable to meet his uncovered eye. Things had been… odd with Itachi for the past week, he was even more reclusive than normal. He’d just surmounted it to the tough situation they’d found themselves in, and that it could wait for a more opportune time, that they could talk about it later. Evidently, that had been a mistake. Itachi had an expression he’d wished to never see on his face., body language defeated and weary.

Itachi passed him a water skin after he was certain his cousin was able to sit up on his own before he spoke. Or attempted to. A violent cough echoed through the space as Itachi turned away, taking a moment before he spoke again in a deep, raspy tone ,”We have to go, as soon as you’re able. You need to finish healing, but… it’s not safe here”.

Itachi looked away, seeming hesitant, before rasping “I will manage. They only scraped me. I need rest, but no more than you do. There’s a place we can hide out for a while not too far from here, abandoned by Orochimaru long ago. It still has protections that will serve us well once I get us past them…”

“…I don’t like this, Itachi. You should know you can confide in me by now, surely. I won’t press, but you should know, I’ll always be here for you, on your side. You know that, surely, especially with what’s been going on recently. I hate to see you hurting like this… I hate that you think you have to hide from me, that you’ve been hiding for weeks, if not longer. Let me help you”, Shisui responded in a rushed breath, pained. As always, the words Let me love you remained almost reluctantly unsaid, a painful lump in his throat.

If anything, Itachi looked even more broken and… guilty by that admission, his bloodshot eyes looking even less focused than they had been the entire all-too-hectic night. “No questions, no lies, Shisui”, was all that he managed to that, his eyes moist to accompany his broken tone.

Damn you. Damn you Itachi, and damn your martyr complex. You’re killing yourself, I know it. Damn your parents, for forcing your pacifistic ass into Anbu. Damn this world for being so unfair., for not allowing someone so inherently pure and wonderful, someone with so much to give to live without tarnishing his hands and soul. Without being forced into hating himself for what he’d had to do.

Shisui fought back the words from surfacing, fingers digging into Itachi’s shoulder unkindly, before he forced a nod. Something about Itachi’s almost-amused huff, the most he’d seemed like himself in much too long, told him that the younger man had picked up on at least some of the things that went unsaid. Shisui wouldn’t have been surprised if he had. For all his lack of social grace, at times, Itachi was still a genius, and they had had at least one or two conversations of a similar nature in the past.

“Lead the way”, he finally managed, giving up on meeting Itachi’s gaze in the silence. Whatever was going on, whatever had happened, he’d help Itachi. He wouldn’t allow the man he loved resign himself to… his hatred..? He was making a tactical retreat on the issue, though he would never give up. He’d just have to combine his years of reading Itachi, his experience with his ability to subtly needle Fugaku into spilling sensitive information. Shisui was determined. He would bring back Itachi from the precipice or no return he was wavering on, regardless of whether it was partially on purpose.

Shisui had been in this abandoned lab for… a week and a half, he supposed. For all that Itachi had claimed to need rest, he had disappeared that first morning, some time before he’d woken up. Needless to say, that really put a damper on his plans to figure out what the damn hell was going on, how Itachi was holding up with his illness… That period of time had been filled with high amounts of stress, anxiety and concern. Itachi had left him supplies, and a brief note to stay put as he ‘needed to take care of some urgent business’ and ‘there was no need to worry’ and ‘he’d be back as soon as he was able’. Even so, even having no clue where Itachi could have gone, that this was the most likely place for them to intersect again. Shisui was ready to tear his hair out, and just fucking bolt in search for his wayward cousin. In fact, he was making his way out of the hideout when he spotted the limping, battered Itachi.

He inhaled sharply, dropping everything before he Shunshined to Itachi’s side, carefully manoeuvring him onto the only bed in decent repair in the lab as he looked the younger man over. Itachi was… unwell would be the understatement of the century. Shisui felt numb as he tried to figure out the best course of action, his fingers already shining with the green of healing chakra. While hardly the most skilled, Shisui had very good chakra control, as was a necessity for his mastery of Shunshin, and he was able to substitute for a field medic in a pinch.

It had been concerningly touch-and-go for far too long as Shisui worked, Itachi fading in and out of consciousness. For his poor condition, Shisui found it very concerning that he could trace little back little of the damage to any external injuries, hoping that it was simply his lack of experience that prevented him from determining the cause of the internal damage, the blood building up in both lungs, despite no apparent evidence of a puncture.

Shisui had been wiping the bloody tear-like streaks caked on Itachi’s face when he finally awoke, after hours of too-hesitant chakra manipulated healing. “Oh, thank the Sage. Itachi, you’ve worried me sick. Haven’t I told you not to vanish on me..? I’ve had over a week to think all this over… nothing to do but think, really. And I still don’t understand what you think could be so horrible that you’ve been hiding it from me. I would never turn my back on you, I swear it. I lo— You mean the world to me, you’re family. I just want you to heal, you’ve been hurt, and I don’t know why or how, but I’ll make it better.”

Itachi seemed overwhelmed, and strangely pained at the barrage of words, as if they were poised to cut and maim, rather than reassure. Disoriented from just waking up, he hesitated for several beats too long, long enough that Shisui finally had hope for the first time in over a week that things would truly be okay. They weren’t, though. Itachi clammed up, the moment he realised they’d made eye contact, and he flinched away, like a kicked puppy,. He stiffly sat up, reaching into his tattered robes, as-if to retrieve something, “Before anything else, it is safe to return to Konoha, now. However, perhaps, more importantly, I… I am so, so sorry, Shisui. No questions, n—“

“Damn you, Itachi, damn you!” Shisui snarled, tears of irrational anger burning down his face as he made to box Itachi in the ear, only to stare in stunned, pained disbelief as the man he loved dispersed into a flock of crows, leaving behind only a scroll, and a whisper of I’m sorry. Not even a vague imprint of his chakra remained in the air. It felt like a goodbye, like an ‘I’ve done what I need to, and now I’m ready to die’. It felt like a ‘don’t look for me’, it felt like a betrayal of trust. It was a visceral, incomparable pain.

An inhuman noise tore its way from Shisui’s chest as he collapsed on the bedding that would forever be marked by Itachi’s sweat and blood, unable to do or feel anything beyond the hurt, pain, concern, worry, fear, anger, desperation.

It was probably hours later that Shisui finally hauled himself into a sitting position, though it had felt like an immeasurable eternity. He was stiff and sore, face sticky and sore from crying, eyes burning from a Mangekyō he wasn’t able to de-activate. He tugged at his own hair, hoping the sharp stabbing pain would distract from the ache in his soul, and forced his attention onto the scroll, laying deceptively innocent, now on the floor.

Shisui hesitated for a few moments, biting his lower lip raw, before lifting the scroll, and rolling it open. A familiar seal greeted him, and a pang, somehow deeper and more painful than the pervasive ache, struck him. He brought a thumb up to his raw, sluggishly bleeding lip, and smudged it onto the base of the seal, speaking in a broken, stuffed up tone, wavering, “No questions, no lies”. The familiar feeling of Itachi’s chakra caressed him for a moment before vanishing, leaving him with a sheaf of papers, neatly bound, and another, smaller, yet more intricate seal that he didn’t recognise. Setting it aside, after a cursory glance, he turned his gaze to familiar, if rushed handwriting, feeling himself go strangely numb, the further he read, starting to shed tears he thought he no longer had.

Shisui. Shi-nii… Shi-chan…

I hope you find this legible, as my sight has been fading as quickly as my health, as of late.

Oh, Sage. I do not know where to start. Much as I hope my letter finds you well, that you will not despair over one as undeserving as I, I know better than to hope. And for that, I am sincerely sorry. I am so very sorry, for so many things. Alas, I am too much of a coward, too selfish, too tired, too torn, to have the strength to face you as I share the deepest trenches where my soul used to reside.

Until then, please, allow me one last bit of completely unfair, harmful selfishness. Much as someone as you is undeserving of my taint, I love you. I still love you, even though I shouldn’t, after all I’ve done. I no longer deserve to, and yet. And yet. I loved you ever since we were small children, though I suppose it was different, back then. You were ‘just’ family. ‘Just’ my big brother. You did so much for me, you not only put the effort forward to understand, but you actually did. It meant the world to me, back then, when I could not express myself to save my life. I still do, now, no matter how needlessly difficult it had made the past few weeks, hiding my darkness from you. Time passes for all of us, however, and, well, over the years, you grew to mean so very much more to me. I think I realised that night, on the roof, under the stars… I am still deeply mournful I was unable to tell you before I was no longer worthy of earning your love.

Before I delve into the brunt of this retelling, please know, none of the blame is with you. It is my choices, and the choices of people beyond our control that have led to this. None the less, I have done things that are unforgivable, and that I wish not to taint anybody else with. I know that you’d try to forgive me, spin my actions in a way they are redeemable, but I know better. I don’t wish for you to taint yourself, your morals, your soul, with forgiving such a creature as I. You were my heart once, and I do not wish to force you down such a dark path. I must be cruel once more here, my heart. Please care for Sasuke, like you once did for me. With my actions over the past month, he will be having a very tough time.

The brief of it, well. I am from the future. One where I did many unforgivable things. One where I massacred our entire clan, save Sasuke, after you fell down a cliff, eyeless, and drowned. One where I forced my brother into madness to gain enough strength to kill me. I will not try to excuse or explain myself, lest I manage to make you see myself and my actions in a brighter light than I deserve. I have sealed my most important memories of the years that should never again come to pass in that scroll. You can activate it the same way you did my storage seal.

It contains memories of our clan, of my time as a missing-nin with a rebel group, of the upcoming war. I have dealt with Madara, and inhibited Zetsu’s plans to the best of my abilities, so you have time. Once again, I am sorry to push this on your shoulders, dear heart, for I am cruel. You are the only I can trust to take action. Please, don’t make the same mistakes as I. Don’t go it alone.

Ever since I had returned, into my younger body, around a month ago (I am still uncertain as to how it happened. One moment, I was dying to Sasuke’s hands, the next, waking up in the compound), I put forward my best efforts in an attempt to even slightly redeem myself, to prevent the darkest happenings of the future in any way I can. Danzō is dead, as are my father and many of the elders. The details I have also enclosed in the scroll.

As I’m sure you’ve been picking up on, I have not been completely well for some time. At this age, I already had the early signs of my illness, though I was not aware of it, at the time. The deterioration seems to be occurring faster in this timeline, than originally. My organs are under strain, my eyes failing, both from illness and Mangekyō use. Even if I were not tainted beyond saving, beyond redemption, I would not want others to see me like this, make them suffer for me. Much as I acknowledge what I am doing to you is unforgivably cruel, I hope you can begin to understand my reasons. Please be well.

I have left to die, Shisui, do not search for me. I do not deserve your forgiveness, I do not deserve healing. Please. Move on from this, be happy. That is the best thing you could ever do for me, dear heart.

With all my sincerest apologies and remaining soul,

Itachi

It had been just a fortnight since Itachi had vanished, and plans were very well underway for the future, based on the memories Itachi had left. After all, a determined Shisui was a productive Shisui, almost scarily so. Many of the pitfalls of Itachi’s future were unlikely to come to pass with all their contingency plans, upon contingency plans. It doubtlessly helped that many of the key players were dead, or had changed allegiance.

Many, including Shisui, himself, were angry with Itachi, but not for the reason the man himself likely thought. Shisui was so very unexplainably hurt by Itachi’s choice to leave, much as he understood it, in a way. He hated the fact that the man had been so hurt, so consumed by the family madness by the time he returned, that he no longer put any stock in himself, causing to push everyone who cared about him away, feeling undeserving. Unthinking of the harm he was doing to those that found him dear. They would have much to talk through, much to heal, the both of them, but for all his hurt, he couldn’t blame Itachi. And he found it even more painful that the young man had thought his actions irredeemable and unforgivable, considering his forced hand, and less-than-sane mental state at the time of many of these choices. He just wanted to wrap up the man in a stifling hug, and never let him go. It ached. He refused to think about the possibility of Itachi already being gone, of it being too late. He hoped that Itachi felt the need to resolve more things before death caught up with him, that he hadn’t killed himself, or just laid down to die somewhere.

He’d managed to convince Tsunade to return, for all she claimed it was temporary. Hiruzen was hoping to convince her to take over the hat, but that was hardly Shisui’s main concern — she had agreed she’d tend to Itachi, if— when they found him. While she couldn’t promise anything, due to the unreliable nature of the details Shisui had told her, she was convinced she could reverse most, if not all of the damage, if it hadn’t tipped over to the point of no return.

Shisui had gathered the best tracking teams in Konoha, and they were finally ready to depart. Each person had a Hiraishin seal, and access to a messenger summon so that Shisui and Tsunade could appear on location as soon as Itachi was found, and get him stabilised, and to Konoha as soon as possible.

Hiruzen felt a great deal of guilt over the Uchiha, and Itachi’s fathe, specifically, both in the man’a original timeline, and this time around, which allowed Shisui to press a lot more than he would have been able to otherwise, considering the differences in their station. This allowed him access to the forbidden scroll of the village, allowing him to learn the technique for near-instantaneous travel created by the Nidaime Hokage.

And here they were, setting out, two weeks after he’d last seen Itachi, the moment the situation was stabilised, and he felt confident enough in his new Jutsu. Much as he had been antsy to leave in pursuit immediately, he knew it would have done little good without any ability to help Itachi, considering he had little clue of his condition. Shunshin was amazingly useful, but it could cover only so much distance, and was very rough on passengers. Not to mention that his healing would only go so far.

Shisui was determined, hopeful as he watched the teams quickly advancing through the forest. There was no way the greatest trackers in Konoha, supported by Jiraiya’s lauded spy network would be unable to find Itachi. If he was still out there, he’d be brought back, no doubt about it.

If. Oh Sage. No, no, no, he had to still be alive, right? Such a bright flame couldn’t go out without any noticeable change to the world, surely. He had to still be alive.

…right..?

Shisui startled as a gentle hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. Tsunade didn’t offer any empty platitudes, but her steady presence helped settle his spirit. He wouldn’t allow himself to wallow in despair at what if. He had to have hope, especially when Itachi didn’t.

The next time Shisui saw Itachi, he was… in surprisingly good shape, considering his state the last time he’d seen the man, though much too pale, his face worn.

According to Kakashi, he seemed in the middle of tracking someone, who he’d later found out was Black Zetsu, before he found himself restrained by Konoha-nin. While initially panicked, and intent on escaping, Kakashi ended up talking him down, after he convinced his team to leave them to chat. While not as close as Shisui and Itachi, Kakashi had played an important role in Itachi’s life after he’d entered Anbu, as he’d been the young Uchiha’s commanding officer. Being similar in many ways, as well, had helped them bond. In the time that it took for Kakashi’s ninken to deliver the go-ahead to Shisui, Kakashi explained what had been happening ever since ‘his little vanishing act’, and started to explain why Itachi was wrong for believing he was unforgivable and irredeemable for his actions.

While Itachi was visibly reluctant to agree with Kakashi’s words, he was listening, and it was oddly plain to see that he was starting to take the words to heart. Kakashi had imagined it helped that he was notoriously allergic to feelings and speaking honestly, and that he’d shared some of his own deep wounds and failings. My actions aren’t unforgivable, according to you. Your situation isn’t much different than mine. What makes you so tainted? Learn to forgive yourself, kid.

Itachi leapt to his feet the moment he felt Shisui’s chakra signature, seemingly uncertain for a moment whether he wanted to bolt away from, or to Shisui. His innate impulse, built over many years took over, however, and he Shunshined straight into his cousin, following him in his fall to the ground. He clung tightly to the feeling of warmth, safety, home, for the first time in a long time not pausing to question if he deserved it. Silent tears trailed down Itachi’s face as his half-blind eyes met Shisui’s, willingly, for the first time, ever since he’d returned from the future, “I— I’m so very sorry, Shisui. I have caused you so much —“

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you utter dingbat”, Shisui near-sobbed into Itachi’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you thought, for a moment, you didn’t deserve me, that you deserved to die in a ditch somewhere. I fucking love you, too! Did my feelings not matter in this..? If you dared die, I’d have found a way to bring you back, just to kill you myself. You… you…. I’m so happy and relieved you’re okay… I just… you… we have a lot to talk about, but please. You deserve to live, and heal. Please, at least, try for me, even if you don’t think you deserve it for yourself yet”.

Itachi shifted over the sniffling Shisui so that the man was positioned in his lap, happy to note that Kakashi and Tsunade had chosen to give them some privacy. He paused, looking at Shisui’s face, and, once he was certain of his welcome, kissed the corner of the other man’s mouth, before pressing their foreheads together. “For you, anything. I have not been in my right mind for a long time now, as you probably know by now. But, after a long conversation with Kakashi, and some searching in myself, I know I should trust in you, if nothing else. If you believe I’m worth saving, I will try my hardest. I love you, and you are my heart, have been for a very long time. I will endeavour to never hurt you again in this way that I have. I pushed you away for one of the things I love most about you, and for that, I will do my best to earn your forgiveness.”

Tsunade, Kakashi, and the rest of the tracking group found the two half an hour later, exchanging soft words and gentle kisses, reluctant to be more than an inch apart at any given moment. They were already starting to heal, as they affirmed themselves, their relationship, in one another, though it would take time for the cracks in their souls to be filled with gold, making something different, yet just as beautiful as it once was. Together.

#ask #wynnebat #prompt #naruto #itachi #shisui #itashi #angst #suicide #suicidal thoughts #self-worth issues #itachi is a ball of issues #he’s getting better #a determined shisui is an unstoppable shisui #i should be asleep #this is ooc #i don’t really care #my writing

[janiedean]

ah well, enough’s enough.

so, I noticed that tumblr used @gamoralives who of course has preventively blocked me is going around publishing SCREENCAPS of my replies to that op about the holocaust but not of my actual replies because of course not and I was trying to reblog it from @galactic-jewce-box who in turn was reblogging it from @jewish-privilege but ALL THREE OF THEM HAVE BLOCKED ME OF COURSE SINCE I CANNOT TAG THEM, from which we can ABSOLUTELY NOTICE how strong is their spine since they can’t even talk to me properly.

okay then, I know that this post is not gonna get screencapped as a whole but since y’all are a bunch of immature assholes who think they can get away with slandering people behind their backs, spread misinformation and be honestly disgusting people because first they accuse ME of holocaust denial and then

 deny that categories other than jewish and roma people have died in it

completely ignore that queer people died in it

ignore that disabled died in it

ignore that the pacific front had another genocide going on that had equal if not higher numbers of dead people

have suddenly decided that wwii and the holocaust are two separated things when before they weren’t

spread misinformation about auschwitz works

complain about polish ppl not fighting the nazis enough and then literally spit on the ones who did by going like IF A HANDFUL OF POLISH GENTILES DIED IT DOESN’T MATTER guess what you completely fucking asshole those people were political prisoners and I have absolutely no qualms calling you an asshole by this point so they died to fight the nazis but I guess that’s not good enough for YOU ALL FUCKING AMERICANS WHO HAVEN’T EVER SET A FOOT IN EUROPE HAVE YOU

I’m going at it. bye.

so, what my pals had to say about me.

THIS is what gamoralives screenshotted:

of course, she didn’t, like, LINK TO EITHER OF MY OPS, one and two in which I said a lot of things, INCLUDING:

like no one is denying that jewish people were the the most targeted category and no one is even dreaming of it and no one is denying that everyone had responsibilities in the jewish ethnic cleansing but the ‘blame the polish at all costs’ mentality I’m seeing in some comments on this post is honestly baffling and not really what brings us to a constructive discussion on the topic.

but of course y’all could not, like, directly engage with me on my op. nooooo. YOU SCREENSHOTTED THE REPLIES TO MY OP BY PEOPLE WHO WERE AGREEING WITH ME AND THEN GO AROUND SAYING I’M ANTISEMITE. GOD YOU’RE FUCKING COWARDS.

but never mind that.

so, what else does my pal, my friend gamoralives (WHO NEVER ONCE TOUCHED THE TOPIC DIRECTLY WITH ME lmao) have to say about me?

OOOOH, IT DISGUSTS YOU?

let’s see what disgusts me instead.

this is one of the OPs that got the screenshot from the OP of that post which we all know was yours like shut up don’t even try to deny it is:

that’s what some pal of yours had to say:

THEN YOU GO AND SAY THIS:

like YOU GODDAMNED IDIOTS YOU REALLY THINK Y’ALL CAN SPIN THIS AGREEING WITH ‘HOLOCAUST AND THE WWII BELONG TO ONE GROUP ONLY’ AND THEN YOU DO A 180° AND SAY THAT WWII AND THE HOLOCAUST ARE TWO SEPARATED THINGS????????????

LIKE???????

ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS????

YOU SAID THAT WWII ***AND*** THE HOLOCAUST ARE PROPERTY OF JUST JEWISH PEOPLE AND ROMANI AND THEN YOU GO AND CLAIM THAT WWII IS NOT THE HOLOCAUST?

LIKE??????

but it’s not even the worst because honestly I still have fucking vomit in my mouth from this:

and then you do this:

YOU GODDAMNED - I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO CALL YOU, I HONESTLY HAVE EXHAUSTED THE WORDS IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE, BUT SINCE YOU’RE SO EXPERT IN ANYTHING WWII, PLEASE LET ME FUCKING C/P YOU A THING YOU CAN FIND ON THE FUCKING AUSCHWITZ WEBSITE MUSEUM PAGE which you’d know if you actually set foot in there (spoilers: my antisemite ass did and I actually went to krakow 40% for the rest and 60% because I’ve been wanting to visit since I was fucking eight because I started reading up about concentration camps and studying wwii when I was in elementary school because I was interested and I never stopped, differently from you who most likely only learned how to *research* now by c/p-ing together information that doesn’t count the other side but oKAY THEN):

Gas chamber I

Auschwitz I, Crematorium I and the first gas chamber

This object is preserved in an original state to a large degree. Crematorium I operated from August 1940 in a prewar ammunition bunker adapted for its new function. The largest room was a morgue, which was changed into a provisional gas chamber. There were three furnaces for burning corpses in crematorium I, ordered by the camp administration from the Topf and Söhne company, which installed them.

When the gas chambers in Birkenau were going into operation, the camp authorities transferred the mass killing operation there and gradually phased out the first gas chamber. In July 1943, after the completion of the Birkenau crematoria, the burning of corpses in crematorium I ended. The furnaces and chimney were dismantled, and the holes in the roof used for introducing Zyklon B were closed. Two of the three furnaces and the chimney were reconstructed (from original parts), and several of the holes in the roof of the gas chamber were reopened.

Outside the boundaries of the Museum, the railroad siding and unloading platform (the so-called Judenramp or "old ramp") is commemorated. Transports of Jews deported for killing, and also of Roma and prisoners of other nationalities, arrived here from 1942-1944.

YOU GODDAMNED FUCKING ASSHOLE, YOU ARE SAYING THAT *AUSCHWITZ AND BIRKENAU WERE DIFFERENT CAMPS AND THAT NO ONE DIED SYSTEMATICALLY IN AUSCHWITZ BUT THEY DID IN BIRKENAU WHEN BIRKENAU WAS BUILT WHEN THEY DIDN’T HAVE SPACE IN AUSCHWITZ ANYMORE TO KILL PEOPLE *INCLUDING FUCKING POLISH POLITICAL PRISONERS WHO WERE THE FIRST CATEGORY IN THERE FOR TWO FUCKING YEARS* AND THEN *I* AM THE ONE DOING HISTORICAL REVISIONISM??? ARE YOU FOR FUCKING REAL??

MISCONCEPTION?????

MISCONCEPTION???????

and *I* m the revisionis according to you???????

and you actually don’t have the decency to realize you’re wrong and like drop this conversation and shut the fuck up already?

nooooooo trash talk me and say to pre-eventively block because why the fuck not?

here, you want pictures because you don’t trust the website?

I FUCKING TOOK THEM WHEN I WENT. HAVE YOU? SINCE YOU’RE FUCKING ***AMERICAN*** I DOUBT IT AND TBH YOU BEING AMERICAN IN THIS CASE TRUMPS WHATEVER ELSE YOU ARE BECAUSE AMERICANS TALKING ABOUT WWII AS IF THEY LIVED IT WHEN THEY DON’T HAVE A RELATIVE THAT FOUGHT IN IT CAN, AS FAR AS I’M CONCERNED, SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY, SIT BACK AND LEARN FROM US PEOPLE WHO LIVE WHERE IT WAS ACTUALLY FOUGHT.

anyway, this is the gas chamber + ovens in auschwitz 1. I was inside it. it wasn’t nice. I still wanna vomit if I think about it. sure as hell I wouldn’t be using it to prove a point about fandom if I were you.

that’s the ovens:

BUT NONE OF THAT EXISTED IN AUSCHWITZ 1????????

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME????

then again, have a few other choice things that I took pictures of while I was having my merry stroll around the place while trying to not throw up in my mouth:

LOOK AT HOW MANY CATEGORIES ARE LISTED IN THAT HANDY, PRETTY CHART, HMMMMMM? I even put the high-res picture in case you wanna look at it in depth :D

that’s the monument for FRENCH PATRIOTS OF WAR BUT I GUESS THOSE don’t count either. aaaah and wait a moment I went into the barracks and took pictures of the explanations and look at what I have for you:

just in case you can’t bother to open it: that’s about the execution of polish citizens and the quote of the nazi commander in the white tag is:

‘'if I wanted to put up a poster for every seven poles who were shot the polish forests wouldn't be enough to produce the paper for such notices'.

UHM. A HANDFUL OF POLISH GOYIM, @gamoralives? god, you’re such a blatant, spineless hypocrite I can’t even.

ah, but wait, I’m not done:

I think that one’s large enough you can read it yourself.

like, wow, and I am the revisionist.

I’d say kindly shut the fuck up just based on that, but hey, then you went and reblogged this piece of shit post which has been making me almost vomit my tea all over again:

POOR

DEFENSELESS

EUROPEANS IN NAZI OCCUPIED COUNTRIES

for WILLINGLY HANDING THEIR JEWS OVER TO GERMANS?????????????????? MOST EUROPEANS WERE GLAD?????????

@tikkunolamorgtfo I’M TAGGING YOU BECAUSE APPARENTLY YOU HAVEN’T BLOCKED ME YET, BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCK. YOU.

NAZIS FORCIBLY INVADED MOST OF THIS GODDAMNED FUCKING CONTINENT. THE FRENCH CERTAINLY DIDN’T WANT GERMANS ON THEIR SOIL. THE POLISH DIDN’T AS WELL AND YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT GIVEN POLAND’S HISTORY WITH BOTH THEM AND THE RUSSIANS. THE SLOVENES, HUNGARIANS, CZECHS AND SERBS SURE AS FUCKING HELL DIDN’T ASK FOR IT EITHER, NOR THE NETHERLANDS WHICH WERE NEUTRAL AND NOR THE DANISH NOR BELGIUM AND YOU GODDAMNED LYING ASSHOLE, if you go to the copenhagen jewish museum there’s an entire part of it just dedicated to how the danish rallied and tried to send off to sweden as many jewish people as they could.

but no, you’re here saying that we’re all happy that the nazis/russians/americans/whoever else occupied our damned nations and did whatever the fuck they wanted just because we wanted to get rid of the jewish people?

well I’m going to tell you a story since y’all are so sure I can’t talk about wwii because I’m neither jewish nor roma but never mind. one or two. to you, gamoralives and all the goddamned assholes on that thread who didn’t even have the guts to engage with me directly because you know you’re wrong. and since I’m from italy, THE LAND OF THE DOUBLE-CROSSING PPL DURING WARS, let me just tell you a few things I can say as someone who’s studied this shit for twenty years.

1) hitler thought mussolini was his role model and shit. guess what, fascism initially targeted some categories, which were either killed or sent off to ‘confino’ which was basically ‘we’re sending you to a small town in the middle of nowhere where everyone knows you don’t like the regime’. who got sent to confino? political adversaries, gay men, prostitutes and trans people. and while sad to say ghetto is an originally italian word so we have our bad history of antisemitism as well, guess what, there were no laws against jewish people until ‘38 when mussolini officially allied with hitler and had to get on with the plan, and actually ALL THE NEOFASCISTS IN ITALY WHO JUSTIFY HIM SAY THAT ‘HEY HE WAS GOOD BUT THEN HE MADE THE MISTAKE OF LISTENING TO HITLER AND DOING THE RACIAL LAWS’, but you wouldn’t know that, would you? while europe has never not been antisemite BUT actually at the beginning of the 20th century things had been going better until hitler showed up, NO ONE WAS FUCKING THINKING ABOUT GENOCID-ING ANYONE IN THOSE TERMS. but okay.

2) the italian government seeing how the tide was turning in 1943 decided to change sides and go with the americans instead after deposing mussolini - fair enough, except that THEY DIDN’T WARN ANYONE LESS OF ALL THE ITALIAN ARMY which resulted in all the italian soldiers stationed in places not under allied control to end up deported to concentration camps and so on, except that then it gets better because italy got split in two with americans south of salerno and the germans north of it which meant we ended up in a civil war where partisans fought nazis in the north and americans tried to advance from the south and hmm

wow, just the russians whose total death toll was TWENTY MILLION did better than us but never mind that, SINCE YOU DIDN’T BOTHER TO READ MY OP, LET ME REMIND YOU THAT THE GERMANS WENT AROUND KILLING CIVILIANS RANDOMLY INCLUDING 130 CHILDREN AT ONCE FOR THE ENTIRETY OF THE CIVIL WAR AND THAT THE ALLIED FRENCH ARMY POST-CASSINO RAPED AN AMOUNT OF MOST LIKELY 7K PEOPLE CAUSING A RIDICULOUSLY HIGH NUMBER OF SUICIDES ESPECIALLY IN BETWEEN WOMEN, but if you’d fucking bother, never mind:

After the armistice with the Allies, some 650,000 members of the Italian armed forces who refused to side with the occupying Germans were interned in concentration and labour camps. Of these, around 50,000 died while imprisoned or while under transportation. A further 29,000 died in armed struggles against the Germans while resisting capture immediately following the armistice

how bad, but:

marzabotto massacre (700+ dead)

fosse ardeatine massacre

sant’anna di stazzema massacre (130 children including A TWENTY-DAYS OLD)

or you could go on the WHOLE WIKIPEDIA PAGE ABOUT WWII massacres here where idk I’m opening a few pages at random of stuff happened in PLACES THAT THE NAZIS OCCUPIED:

Kisielin massacre was a massacre of Polish worshipers which took place in the Volhynian village of Kisielin (Second Polish Republicuntil 1939), now Kysylyn, located in the Volyn Oblast, Ukraine. It took place on Sunday, July 11, 1943, when units of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA), supported by local Ukrainian peasants, surrounded Poles who had gathered for a ceremony at a local Roman-Catholic church. Around 60 to 90 persons or more, men, women and children – were ordered to take off their clothes and were then massacred by machine gun. The wounded were killed with weapons such as axes and knives. Those who survived (around 200 by some accounts) escaped to the presbytery and barricaded themselves for eleven hours.

The Kragujevac massacre was the mass murder of between 2,778 and 2,794 mostly Serb men and boys in Kragujevac by Germansoldiers on 21 October 1941. It occurred in the German-occupied territory of Serbia during World War II, and came in reprisal for insurgent attacks in the Gornji Milanovac district that resulted in the deaths of 10 German soldiers and the wounding of 26 others. The number of hostages to be shot was calculated as a ratio of 100 hostages executed for every German soldier killed and 50 hostages executed for every German soldier wounded, a formula devised by Adolf Hitler with the intent of suppressing anti-Nazi resistance in Eastern Europe. (3k deaths total)

The Kraljevo massacre was the mass murder of approximately 2,000 residents of the central Serbian city of Kraljevo by the Wehrmacht between 15 and 20 October 1941, during World War II. The massacre came in reprisal for a joint Partisan–Chetnik attack on a German garrison in which 10 German soldiers were killed and 14 wounded. The number of hostages to be shot was calculated based on a ratio of 100 hostages executed for every German soldier killed and 50 hostages executed for every German soldier wounded, a formula devised by Adolf Hitler with the intent of suppressing anti-Nazi resistance in Eastern Europe.

In World War II, in Nazi-occupied Czechoslovakia, the Lidice massacre was a complete destruction of the village of Lidice, in the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia, now in the Czech Republic, in June 1942 on orders from Adolf Hitler and Reichsführer-SS Heinrich Himmler.In reprisal for the assassination of Reich Protector Reinhard Heydrich in the late spring of 1942, all 173 males over 15 years of age from the village were executed on 10 June 1942. Another 11 men who were not in the village were arrested and executed soon afterwards, along with several others already under arrest. The 184 women and 88 children were deported to concentration camps; a few children considered racially suitable for Germanisation were handed over to SS families and the rest were sent to the Chełmno extermination camp where they were gassed to death. The Associated Press, quoting German radio received in New York, said: "All male grownups of the town were shot, while the women were placed in a concentration camp, and the children were entrusted to appropriate educational institutions." About 340 people from Lidice died because of the German reprisal (192 men, 60 women and 88 children) and after the war ended, only 153 women and 17 children returned.

The Maillé Massacre refers to the murder on 25 August 1944 of 124 of the 500 residents of the commune of Maillé in the department of the Indre-et-Loire. Following an ambush a few days before and in reprisals against activities of the French Resistance, Second Lieutenant Gustav Schlüter and his men organized the massacre and burnt the village. Forty-eight children were among the dead. The SS unit believed to be responsible for the massacre is the SS-Feldersatzbataillon 17 of 17th SS Panzergrenadier Division Götz von Berlichingen (Lieb, 2007). In contrast to Oradour-sur-Glane, the village was rebuilt after the war to its pre-war state (Delahousse, 2008).

The Muczne massacre of 16 August 1944 was the massacre of Polish civilians committed by the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UIA) in village Muczne located in Bieszczady County in Poland.Among the Poles were mainly refugees after the repression of the population in Volhynia and retreating in front of - 70 Poles were murdered. They were residents of nearby villages such as foresters, priests and children. Members of the UPA murdered Poles with axes, pitchforks and scythes.In place of the murder in 2010 the memorial and a wooden cross was erected.

The Palikrowy massacre was a war crime committed by 4th police SS-regiment made up of Ukrainian soldiers of the SS-Galizien who were removed from the SS-Galizien at the time of the massacre and placed under German police command, Ukrainian SVK ("Self-defence", Ukrainian: Samoobronni Kuszczowi Widdiły) forces and Ukrainian Insurgent Army on Poles in the village of Palikrowy (since 1945 Palykorovy), which took place on 12 March 1944. A total of 385 Poles were killed. Palikrowy was an ethnically mixed village, with 70% Polish population. In 1944, the population was about 1880, with about 360 houses. The action in Palikrowy was coordinated with the attack on nearby Pidkamin including the monastery in Pidkamin, where some of inhabitants from Palikrowy were hiding during the massacre of Poles in Volhynia. All the inhabitants of Palikrowy were gathered on a meadow near village. The Ukrainian inhabitants of the village were released. Then the Poles were killed by two heavy machine guns. Only a few wounded people survived. Polish houses were burned down and hiding Polish civilians were murdered, and their property stolen.

or, SINCE WE’RE DISCUSSING THE POLISH: The massacres of Poles in Volhynia and Eastern Galicia (Polish: rzeź wołyńska, literally: Volhynian slaughter; Ukrainian: Волинська трагедія, Volyn tragedy), was an ethnic cleansing (some polish scientiests think that was a genocide) carried out in Nazi German-occupied Poland by the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (the UPA) against Poles in the area of Volhynia, Polesia, Lublin region and Eastern Galicia beginning in 1943 and lasting up to 1945. The peak of the genocide took place in July and August 1943. Most of the victims were women and children. UPA's methods were particularly brutal, with many of the victims being tortured and mutilated, and resulted in 40,000–60,000 Polish deaths in Volhynia and 30,000–40,000 in Eastern Galicia, with the other regions for the total about 100,000.

The Janowa Dolina massacre took place on 23 April 1943 in the village of Janowa Dolina, (now Bazaltove, Ukraine) during occupation of Poland in World War II. Before the Nazi-Soviet invasion of the Polish Second Republic, Janowa Dolina was a model settlement built in the Kostopol County of the Wołyń Voivodeship by workers of the Polish State Basalt Quarry. The town was inhabited by 2,500 people. Its name, which translates as the "Jan's Valley" in Polish, came from the Polish king Jan Kazimierz, who reportedly hunted in the Volhynian forests, and after hunting — rested on the shore of the Horyń (Horyn) River. The town was destroyed during World War II by Ukrainian nationalists who murdered most of its Polish population including women and children

The massacre of Uus street was committed by German forces and local collaborators on 30 August 1941 in Tallinn.German forces occupied Tallinn on 28 August 1941 after the Soviet evacuation of Tallinn. The German occupation forces included a local Omakaitse militia. Einsatzgruppe Acommanded by Franz Walter Stahlecker closely followed the German front units, actively recruiting local nationalists and antisemitic groups to instigate pogroms against the local Jewish population.

The Huta Pieniacka massacre was a massacre of the Polish inhabitants of the village Huta Pieniacka, located in modern-day Ukraine, which took place on February 28, 1944. Estimates of the number of victims range from 500, to 1,200. Polish and Ukrainian historians disagree over the responsibility for the Huta Pienacka massacre. According to the Polish Institute of National Remembrance, the action was committed by the 14th subunit of the '1st Ukrainian' Grenadier Division of the Waffen-SS. Polish witnesses testified that the orders were given by German officers. According to Ukrainian sources, it was committed by the German police battalions. According to witness accounts and scholarly publications, SS Galizien were accompanied by a paramilitary unit of Ukrainian nationalists under Włodzimierz (Vladimir) Czerniawski's command, including members of the UPA and inhabitants of local villages who intended to seize property found in the households of the murdered.

I’m not going ahead because this post is already too long but I’d really like to ask tumblr user @tikkunolamorgtfo if they think that ALL THE PEOPLE WHO DIED AS A RESULT OF WWII HAPPENING IN THE AFOREMENTIONED INSTANCES WOULD HAVE SIGNED FOR IT IN EXCHANGE FOR HAVING ALL THE JEWISH POPULATION REMOVED.

LIKE.

ARE YOU *SERIOUSLY* IMPLYING THAT ALL OF THE ABOVE WAS A THING EUROPEAN CIVILIANS FROM OCCUPIED NATIONS WERE OKAY WITH BECAUSE IN EXCHANGE THEY COULD SEND JEWISH PEOPLE TO DEATH???? BECAUSE THAT’S LIKE, FUCKING DISGUSTING, AND YOU’RE HONESTLY OVERREACHING LIKE NOTHING ELSE HERE. but nah, sure thing, everyone was so antisemite they totally would have died as well because hey, at least the category we hate more than we love ourselves gets to die, right?

you fucking asshole, of course in an occupied country people will collaborate with the forces occupying it in order to survive and to not get killed especially if you have a family, but assuming that we all accepted it and actually wanted it to happen is disgusting, not true, a slap in the face of everyone who died fighting the nazis and it can only come from someone who has no fucking clue of the vast consequences wwii had on everyone in this fucking thrice-darned continent. 

also, y’all demeaning the polish deaths in auschwitz/during their occupation in WWII is fucking insulting af because sorry but:

first you say the polish weren’t doing enough to fight against the nazis (even i they also were specifically targeted but y’all keep on ignoring that)

then you ignore that most polish people who died in concentration camps (YES IN AUSCHWITZ AND BIRKENAU TOO YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES) WERE POLITICAL FUCKING PRISONERS

POLITICAL PRISONERS

WHICH MEANS THEY WERE EITHER COMMUNIST OR SOCIALIST OR ANTI-NAZI OR ONE OR MORE OF THEM

WHICH MEANS *THEY DIED BECAUSE THEY WERE ANTI-NAZI* 

WHICH IS EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANTED POLISH PEOPLE TO DO

AND YOU *DARE* SPITTING ON THOSE DEATHS SAYING THAT IT WAS A HANDFUL????

let me c/p it for you:

The number of Polish dead are estimated to number between 5.6 and 5.8 million according to the Institute of National Remembrance(2009). Documentation remains fragmentary, but today scholars of independent Poland believe that 1.8 to 1.9 million Polish civilians (non-Jews) and 3 million jews were victims of German Occupation policies and the war for a total of just under 5 million dead.

FIVE/FIVE-AND A HALF MILLION PEOPLE.

AND YOU CALL IT FUCKING HANDFUL?

NO ONE, LIKE LITERALLY NO ONE TRIED TO SAY THE JEWISH WEREN’T THE MAIN VICTIMS/TARGETS OF THE HOLOCAUST/WWII.

BUT YOU ARE SAYING THE ABOVE DOESN’T MATTER AND YOU’RE PROCEEDING TO INSULT THE MEMORY OF EVERYONE WHO FUCKING DIED THANKS TO THE NAZIS IN WWII and I haven’t even touched the russian war crimes but nvm that. honestly? HONESTLY?

AND I AM THE HISTORICAL REVISIONIST THAT YOUR FUCKING FRIENDS WON’T EVEN REBLOG FROM DIRECTLY AND BLOCK BEFORE SHE CAN DEFEND HERSELF BECAUSE DEEP DOWN THEY KNOW THEY’RE SPROUTING BULLSHIT?

HAHAHAHAHAHA.jpeg.

like. NO ONE like NO ONE IS EVER DENYING IT and fyi you’re talking to someone who has more than once defended the existence of israel in front of people who say it should be obliterated exactly because I think its *existence* is the least we owe jewish people for the european history of antisemitism that we have on our shoulders, and if you want the receipts I even did it on this hellsite once, HERE if you want to see how fucking antisemite I am.

but you and your friends are purposefully downplaying about everything that’s not what you want, and on top of that you are excluding from your holocaust victim list:

THIS IS A FUCKING OFFICIAL-ISH LIST OF HOLOCAUST VICTIMS.

all these categories were targeted under the holocaust.

that’s historical facts.

you cannot go and say that someone stating the facts is doing revisionism when the only people doing any such thing are you and your fucking friends.

ALSO, since y’all are absolutely denying the existence of the pacific front, I will remind you kindly a few things:

unit 731 existed;

the japanese made twice the victims compared to the nazist;

japanese war crimes have zero to envy the nazi war crimes tbqh;

and since y’all are so fond of doing math to prove that the polish were shitty and that they were, like, WORSE THAN ANY OTHER OCCUPIED NATION (spoilers: lmao) and to demean the fact that even with that they still have more than a quarter of the names in the just among the nations (ps: in krakow’s history of wwii museum [or the schindler factory now I don’t recall] there are two computers with a huge af database of names. on the left you have the people who helped the jewish people somehow, on the right you have the collaborationists and you can read their life story. SOUNDS TO ME LIKE THEY ARE AWARE SOME OF THEM WERE ASSHOLES), and since y’all are a bunch of hypocrites who use real life tragedies to make a fandom point and insult idek how many people in the meantime and are also a number of things I’ll say at the end, let me do some basic math for you and I’ll also show you that reading the war in black and white is lost effort:

see that chart above?

SEE THE NUMBERS?

okay then.

jewish people: six million.

roma people: between 130k and 5k.

serbians: between 300k people and 600k people. THEY EVEN CRANK THAT TOP FIVE. WOW, AMRITE?

now. let’s take the lowest one and say that the serbians killed were 300k people.

THE NANKING MASSACRE ONLY - THAT ONE ONLY - HAD A DEATH TOLL OF 300K PEOPLE.

which means that the japanese killed in one single occasion/war crime/however you call it as many serbians as the nazis did in the course of the entire fucking war, or half the number if you take the 600k figure. but wait a moment, who, during the whole nanking affair, saved 250k people?

A FUCKING GERMAN BUSINESSMAN NAMED JOHN RABE WHO WAS ACTUALLY IN THE NAZI PARTY AND STILL SAVED THAT MANY PEOPLE TO THE POINT THAT WHEN AFTER THE WAR HE FELL INTO DISGRACE AND HE COULDN’T EAT, PEOPLE FROM NANKING SENT HIM FOOD AND RALLIED UP MONEY FOR HIM AND GUESS WHAT AFTER HE DIED HE WAS EVENTUALLY BURIED THERE RATHER THAN IN GERMANY.

like.

as I said in my first op which of course you didn’t fucking bother to link, WWII and the holocaust and the asian genocide AND everything that made it up including the pacific front that y’all just don’t really want to acknowledge, is the most fucking mucked up ethical situation in existence because again, not counting the targeted categories of the mass genocide(s) and even with that we can discuss because as we said some polish people were collaborators, the russians persecuted jewish people themselves and so on, EVERYONE ON EVERY SIDE COMMITTED ETHICAL ATROCITIES AND WHILE OF COURSE THE ALLIES EVENTUALLY WERE IN THE RIGHT POSITION THEY CERTAINLY DIDN’T SHY FROM DOING EXTREMELY SHITTY THINGS AND I’M SAYING BRITISH, AMERICANS, RUSSIANS AND EVERYONE INVOLVED AND THE WESTERN BETRAYAL ISN’T EVEN HALF OF IT. and wwii is world war two because it involved the entire fucking planet, so trying to tell people that *TWO* CATEGORIES OWN IT AND NO ONE ELSE CAN TALK ABOUT IT IS A) DEMEANING EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED DURING IT, B) FACTUALLY INCORRECT.

ALSO, y’all are still glossing over the fact that - NOT EVEN COUNTING THE POLITICAL PRISONERS DISCOURSE because I know that getting you to agree that communists, socialist and prisoners of war could be a targeted category is wasting time - SPECIFIC TARGETED VICTIMS OF THE ****HOLOCAUST**** WERE:

disabled people because they were disabled (and most of those either were killed straight or were used for medical experiments and none of those survived) so thanks for being ableist fucks and forgetting 270k people;

gay people/queer people because they were fucking gay/queer and guess what MOST OF THE SURVIVED ONES GOT ARRESTED LATER BECAUSE BEING GAY WAS STILL A CRIME ANYWAY so hey thanks for forgetting those 15k people as well, I’m sure you love the smell of homophobia in the morning;

polish + serbians + slavic people FOR BEING SLAVIC and that chart isn’t counting the hungarians/czechs as well so like if we take it with the highest value we can say you’re forgetting four million people tops and HERE in europe it’d be considered as pretty damn racist because yes you can be racist against slavic people;

the poor jehova’s witnesses obviously deserved to die there because they like to press your intercom button to tell you about our lord and savior jesus christ I guess, but nvm it was enough of them they had their purple little triangle in auschwitz, the place where PEOPLE DIDN’T DIE;

we’re obviously not gonna touch the poor spanish revolutionaries who were from a place with a huuuuuuhhhhh fascist dictatorship? ah well, 7k is really not that much, right?

idk what you want to do with the data about russians pows/civilians which if we take the highest count as in 4.5 + 3.3 makes for a whopping 7,8 million people that makes a little more than 1/4 of the total 20 million ussr casualties on a total of 80 million total which means that one fucking fourth of ALL wwii casualties were russians, but hey, that’s math for you.

the entire point is that YOU CANNOT RECLAIM OWNERSHIP OF A HISTORICAL EVEN WHERE THAT MANY PEOPLE DIED AND THINGS WERE ETHICALLY MUCKED ON BOTH SIDES AND SIMPLIFYING THINGS IS NOT A THING YOU CAN OR SHOULD DO OUT OF INTELLECTUAL HONESTY and like... first y’all say wwii and the holocaust are one thing, then that they’re separate, THEN YOUR FUCKING PAL GAMORALIVES HAS THE GALL TO SAY THAT SHIT ABOUT AUSCHWITZ AND BIRKENAU WHICH IS LITERALLY THE FIRST THING YOU LEARN WHEN YOU OPEN A FUCKING BOOK ABOUT AUSCHWITZ AND YOU DON’T EVEN CALL HER OUT ON *THAT* BULLSHIT, BUT THEN YOU GO AROUND SAYING THAT WE’RE REVISIONISTS???

BECAUSE WE SAID THE FACTUAL TRUTH IE THAT A BUNCH OF DIFFERENT CATEGORIES DIED BECAUSE OF NAZI CRIMES?

like, especially if you’re american and your grandfather didn’t risk losing a limb or getting ptsd in this damned war: don’t. and tbh if you’re american and willingly ignore the pacific front when the usa basically shouldered most of that side of the war by themselves out of all the allied coalition idek what you learn in school but I’m fucking worried about your educational system.

but sure go around saying that that I’m an *antisemite* just because I told you the actual historical facts while you demean around, idk, 70 million people deaths with your arguments contradicting themselves and @gamoralives goes around sprouting factual bullshit about how auschwitz works (because excuse me that’s factual bullshit period) and y’all do it after having blocked me preventively (okay, the tumblr user I tagged hasn’t yet but I’m sure it’s a short time coming) and haven’t engaged with me directly once because I have an inkling that having my original OPs on their blog would have made them look like the assholes they are. totes makes sense. next time I run into my former ***self-declared fascist*** classmates who called me a jew-abiding commie when I was nine I’ll tell them that according to you I agree with them. jfc.

and fyi, I never, never, NEVER in my entire life read anything by a jewish wwii survivor or a jewish wwii historian or anyone jewish discussing wwii/writing about wwii/making movies about wwii where the message was your message. the message usually was ‘we were the main targeted party but other people were with us as well and we can only hope it never happens again if everyone knows about it and talks about it’, and I can assure you I read wwii fiction, nonfiction and such on made by people of every damned background including memorials of camps survivors.

I mean, you ever read this is a man?

written by italian jewish chemist-then-writer primo levi who survived auschwitz and later killed himself out of survivor’s guilt?

I mean, if I were you I’d consider reading this shit and then avoiding saying things that go directly against what actual auschwitz survivors had to say about the entire thing while automatically having a greater understanding of how human nature works than any of us in this discussion, but what have you, you have the infused truth given to you and no one else around here has and you’re all, constantly, treating world war two as if it happened in a social context that’s, guess what, the usa’s.

it. was. not. deal with it and for the love of fucking everything at least if you want to call me an antisemite do it to my fucking face and not vagueblogging about me and only c/p-ing comments and not, like, THE ENTIRE OP.

but hey, we all know that if you knew you were in the right you would let your followers read what I actually said in the first place.

but honestly, honestly, I’m fucking appalled that I had to write all of this crap down and that we’re fucking comparing AUSCHWITZ CAMPS BECAUSE Y’ALL WANT TO MAKE A POINT ABOUT A DUMBASS *FICTIONAL FANFIC THAT WASN’T EVEN WRITTEN YET* AND YOU’RE DOING THIS OVER SHIP FANDOM DRAMA.

I mean, it seems to me that discussing this shit over fucking fandom drama is tasteless and honestly insulting af but whatever, you have the incensed truth of it.

please come at me and tell me how wrong I am.

to my face, thank you. btw: it’s rich of you to assume that poland in wwii was the template for how every other country behaved especially bc poland has a specific history that’s not shared by most other european countries, but reading your posts one starts thinking that according to you most of wwii got fought in poland while everyone else was chilling back and sending targeted categories to concentration camps while sipping a few margaritas and then all of a sudden the americans decided to drop the h bomb on the japanese BECAUSE THEY FELT LIKE IT (I mean you didn’t say that but knowing how tumblr talks about wwii I have a feeling it’s where it’s headed) and then it was all over but let me tell you, it’s so wrong and simplicistic and misinformed and misleading that I don’t think the level of a-historicism in all of your posts - and your friends’s which I haven’t shared because otherwise I’d have been here until tomorrow - is so mind-boggling it’s not quantifiable.

cheers. ps: technically I could report you for slandering me because that’s just about what you did. think about that. and no, you couldn’t report me for the contrary because differently from you I never said anything that wasn’t true or sourced and most of all I never once said jewish people weren’t the most targeted group.

have fun, I guess, if you read this far.

ah, btw, just because you’re demeaning consequences of wwii on civilians: my grandmother didn’t fight in it and wasn’t part of any targeted category, but they were starving so much during the war (and they were in the american side of italy good for them) that for the following sixty years up until she died she wouldn’t waste a drop of food, she wouldn’t spend a cent that wasn’t absolutely necessary and wouldn’t go to the doctor’s because IT WASN’T AS BAD AS THE WAR and every time anyone told her to take a rest she’d say that WE WEREN’T IN THE WAR SO WE COULDN’T UNDERSTAND and it ended with all of her kids having... issues that more or less go back to that and her approach on life made sure that she spent her old age suffering for shit she could have helped but wouldn’t because THE WAR and she died after one year of real fucking bad conditions BECAUSE SHE ENDED UP IN THOSE CONDITIONS BECAUSE OF HER ISSUES THAT WENT BACK TO FUCKING WWII and if it was like that for her try imagine people who fought in it or survived it or their descendants and come tell me to my face again that no one else suffered because of the fucking second world war.

sincerely, go fuck yourself. all of you. and I hope you feel half-ashamed that you went as far as this but I have a feeling y’all are so self-centered you wouldn’t get it.

ps: I’m done with this discourse from this point on but like if y’all think I’m letting you shit talk me behind my back you can forget it. :)

#good fucking grief y'all really have the guts to do the math over who died more like fuck you sideways #wwii for ts #antisemitism for ts #genocide cw #genocide tw #holocaust cw #holocaust tw #auschwitz for ts #nazism for ts #and then YOU say you're disgusted??? #honestly from this side of the barricade y'all aren't looking too great #like idk THINK ABOUT IT FOR TWO SECONDS MAYBE #gamoralives if you read this i honestly hope you just dump this conversation and pretend it never happened #because you really said shit that was out of this world #OVER A FUCKING SHIP #i cannot even #and *I* am the revisionist #fuck it sideways tbh #ableism cw #homophobia cw #racism cw #ALL OF THAT :)))) #notte e giorno faticar per chi nulla sa gradir #va bene va bene va bene in verità #PROPRIO BENISSIMO #cioè io boh sta gente come c'hai la faccia di bronzo di comportarti così #ah boh OK L'OLOCAUSTO NON E' LA WWII #PERO' PRIMA LO SONO #CIOE' MA DECIDETEVI VE CONTRADDITE PURE #mi fareste ridere se non foste così pessime

[bigskydreaming]

princeescaluswords replied to your post:

Alex Summers, after the most recent of 128979889...

Why don’t you write Marvel? You couldn’t possibly do any worse and I could use the laughs!

Lol, its a nice dream, but realistically I don’t think there’s any universe in which Marvel would ever let me write the X-Men. 

Like, my very first story would probably have Bobby refreezing the Arctic while Storm heads up a team of elementals to combat climate change. And then a Republican senator and a Democrat senator would go on TV and make a bipartisan show of expressing their gratitude towards mutants for helping save the planet and this is the real future of humanity, this is them all building a world where they can live side by side in a mutually beneficial -

And then the broadcast would cut off because Cypher just hacked every satellite worldwide and said “all your binary codes belong to me now, resistance is futile, blah blah” before turning the camera to Sunspot who’s all decked out in his snazziest suit and dressed to the nines. Roberto yawns and flips the whole world off and says “LOL fuck you, the X-Men are done with respectability politics, we took a vote and our democratic process actually works, we don’t have a fucking electoral college. We only saved the planet because it happens to be the planet we live on, dipshits, nobody did it for you, you’re still cordially invited to go extinct. Or you can play nice and try getting along with the rest of us for a change but good luck trying to make Sentinels happen again, lmao, funding’s gonna be an issue for you pretty soon I think.”

He turns off the camera and goes back to planning his and Sam’s wedding, because look, I have my priorities, okay.

Then Mystique unleashes her new Fellowship of Evil (Same Name, But This Time Its Evil as in STFU, Its Ironic U Assholes) Mutants that she’s been recruiting from the ranks of the young and disenchanted. Overnight, the market is flooded with gold and gems transmuted from ordinary materials by mutant powers, as well as a bunch of shit ‘liberated’ from the coffers of the 1% via her Fellowship’s alliance with her son-in-law’s Thieves’ Guild. Value plummets instantly, and then technopaths join in the fun, crashing every banking system worldwide.

“Whoopsie, I broke capitalism, money’s worthless now, vive la revolution, everyone eat some fucking cake,” Raven sing-songs merrily from the chaise she’s lounging on while eating grapes. The city outside her window is burning. Meanwhile, a fiddler is playing nearby. She calls him Nero, because Aesthetic.

“Oh relax,” she rolls her eyes when Remy attempts to frown at her disapprovingly. “I had my teleporters evacuate the city before I set it on fire. I’m not a heartless monster, you know.”

“You mean you didn’t want to spend the next ten years dealing with your children yelling at you about innocent civilians and how could you,” Remy says dryly.

Mystique just shrugs and eats some more grapes. “Or that.”

Far-right dominated police forces and white supremacist militia groups attempt to forcibly establish martial law, except mostly they’re just standing around clutching their heads and trying to cope with the mother of all migraines as a gestalt of telepathic minds headed up by a Cerebro-powered octet of Jean, Emma, Betsy, Rachel, Quentin, and the Stepford Cuckoos psychically screams FAKE NEWS!!! into their brains every time their CO’s attempt to bark out new orders.

“Best school project ever,” Quire shouts. Emma smirks.

“Extra credit to the first person to psychically leak the full extent of just how extensively governments have invaded their citizens’ privacy with surveillance extremism in the name of national security.”

Jean attempts a half second of chastisement, but with them all linked this closely, there’s really no way to hide that she’s mostly just amused. Oh no, she and Emma are seeing eye to eye on something and there are witnesses and everything. The revolution was a mistake.

Atlanteans and mutant hydrokinetics team up to shove the worst oil and toxic waste and trash spills up onto the shores of every beach marked ‘privately owned’. The mile-wide ‘island’ of plastic debris that formerly sat in the middle of the Pacific is now parked off the coast of Malibu.

There’s a twenty foot demon from Limbo sitting in the Oval Office. It burps. Illyana beams and boops its nose. “Good boy.” It wags its tail and breaks the Oval Office.

Kitty and Kurt direct teams of similarly powered mutants in raiding the top secret R&D facilities of major pharmaceutical companies for all their research on diseases that never made it to mass production because they decided those treatments or cures wouldn’t be profitable in the long run because healthy people don’t need to spend a ton of money on medical care. Teams of healers are standing by to vet the viability of various research, while Hank, Cece and other mutant geniuses are already working on filling in the gaps on all the projects that were shutdown and Forge, Madison Jeffries and tech-based geniuses are converting existing infrastructure into the necessary machinery to take over mass production of these drugs, prosthetics, and sweatshop labor in general.

Speedsters and teleporters are redistributing food and stocking up the millions of properties worldwide that have just been sitting there empty for god knows how long, useless. Colossus is standing in the smashed remains of a mansion with his arms crossed sternly while a man who is definitely not meant to resemble the CEOs of either Tesla or Amazon or look like some kind of Musky Bozo hybrid cowers on the floor.

“You are a very stupid man,” Colossus says. “Why are you wasting billions funding research into space travel when there are aliens with a strong grasp of the technology in the ships that brought them here on every superhero team on Earth? You could have easily provided the Earth with working and widely accessible space travel by now if you weren’t so miserly.”

“Yeah,” Juggernaut says behind him, scratching his head. “Aliens have been coming and going from this planet for like fifty years. There are tons of fancy spaceships anyone could’ve just reverse engineered and mass produced by now. How come nobody’s ever done that and we’re all just acting like space travel is some far-off dream when everyone we know’s been to space like at least ten times?”

“Stupid people,” Colossus rumbles again. Musky Bozo wets himself and Piotr sighs and shakes his head. He didn’t even touch him.

Cyclops and Wolverine and their teams of bruisers are already done with the ICE facilities and have progressed to busting open prisons and liberating all nonviolent offenders. They inform everyone else that they can appeal to a panel of telepaths to read their minds and see for themselves that they’re innocent.

“Guilt determined by mind-reading?” Someone asks. “Lots of potential for sketchiness there.”

“Absolutely,” Scott says. “Which is why laws about boundaries and oversight have to be established. For now, its a volunteer basis only. Nobody has to get their mind read, but its an option available in the meanwhile as we sort out a better system for determining who’s been imprisoned for crimes of premeditated malice and abuse and who’s just been railroaded by an unjust and biased system.”

“So this is your new utopia, huh?” Sneers the prison warden, from the floor where he’s on his ass with a busted face because, idk, Reasons.

Scott just shakes his head. “No. It’s merely a start.”

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, but if its broke and you wanna fix it, you gotta start somewhere,” Logan says gruffly. “Shit was broke. This is ‘starting somewhere.’”

He and Scott share a very Passionate look of camaraderie. Rogue sighs loudly.

“Just fuck already, jfc.”

Logan grunts. He already offered, but apparently all Personal Business must wait until after the Revolution was over, because a Scott Summers who put himself first was very clearly an impostor, so its not like Logan could even fucking get mad considering Scott putting in a pin in sucking each other’s faces after their We Were Both Dead But Now We’re Not and Also What the Fuck Was Up With Us For the Five Whole Years Before That reunion was what confirmed that it was definitely the Real Scott’s tongue in his mouth.

“Alright, let’s move it people,” Logan barks, clapping his hands. “There’s three more joints to hit before sundown. We got a timetable here.”

Jubilee squints at him suspiciously. “Since when are you efficient?”

“Mind your own fucking business.”

At no point does anyone suggest they erase the most sacred sites of all the world’s major religions and call them all fake or randomly resurrect a bunch of dinosaurs and release them on unsuspecting and innocent populations, because those are terrible ideas and make no sense and just because they’re stinkin’ commies now doesn’t mean they’re fucking morons.

Also, nobody grows a ridiculous beard or stops using shampoo or starts wearing flip flops or robes, because apparently those are not actually essential components of being a stinkin’ commie or even just a garden variety peace-aspiring socialist. They checked. Extensively. It was almost a dealbreaker. Emma, Monet and Roberto all threatened to side with the Capitalist Pigs if that was not thoroughly clarified before proceeding any further.

Thus ends my first issue. I email Marvel the script. They email it back, almost entirely redacted in red, with the note “This isn’t quite what we were looking for. Do you have anything about a new cure for mutants, maybe?”

I email them back: LOL NO. MAGNETO WAS RIGHT.

I am promptly fired.

I go back to ranting about how Marvel sucks on the internet.