#let him figure out his interests on his own by introducing him to an array of things instead of deciding what he likes lol

[number5theboy]

I just want to talk about how TUA’s pilot episode uses specifically the Phantom Medley, ‘I Think We’re Alone Now’ and ‘Istanbul (Not Constantinople)’ as interconnected character (re-)introductions, because they are so, so good.

So, the Phantom of the Opera Medley gives us our first, mostly silent introductions to five out of the seven siblings. Everyone is doing their thing: Luther is on the moon, Diego is being a vigilante, Allison is at her movie premiere, Klaus is released from rehab and instantly relapses, and Viktor is playing the violin part of the medley by himself on a stage. It establishes what each of them has going on in their life, and it establishes that all of them are alone. The Medley is an instrumental arrangement of several songs from the musical adaptation of the Phantom of the Opera, which is an interesting choice in itself, being a story about a brilliant, reclusive, and unhinged genius who harnesses a young girl’s talent for his own personal gain. There is more to it, but this is the relevant part, for obvious reasons. This is also the scene where we see the siblings find out about the death of the shadowy figure that nurtured their powers and abused them for selfish reasons. If the medley had used the lyrics of the musical, the first song used in the medley – the main theme – has as its key lyrics the following: “The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind.” And isn’t that something for the adults introduced to this melody, whose puppet master messed them up so badly during childhood that that still lingers in all of them, a throughline of that first season?

To this first introduction, ‘I Think We’re Alone Now’ serves as a re-introduction. It’s the same principle: a musical montage that focuses on each sibling to an overarching song. The theme of being alone is carried through, but this time, surprisingly, they’re not lonely. They’re not unified, they are certainly not getting along, but you get a feeling of their shared past. There is something that tethers them together. And where in the Medley, only Viktor could hear the music, because he was playing it, this time, the music is fully a part of the world. They’re all listening to the same song. They’re alone, but they’re not. They’re alone together, which is a step closer than it was in the Phantom Medley. And while the first montage focuses on what they were doing, established their occupations, this montage just gives us them…being. Existing, without anyone watching. Not their father, not the other siblings. We get such good insights into their personalities. Luther’s un-awareness of his own body leading him to accidentally punch the plane model. Diego’s array of dorky dance moves. Allison’s hesitance before she gets more and more into the song and allows herself to let loose. Klaus dancing with the ghost of his father. Viktor’s dancing being contained and unassuming. The title line, ‘I think we’re alone now’, just perfectly fits, and it’s a great example of visual media recontextualising a song’s lyrics. The original song is about sex, specifically the prohibition and taboo of teenage sex, and with the framing of the show, the lyrics instead become as literal as they could be. “Children behave / That's what they say when we're together / And watch how you play / They don't understand,” becomes about their childhood, about how they were never allowed to be kids, how they had to obey their father’s whims. And now he is gone, and they are alone, and it is good. Kind of. Sort of. While that iconic slow zoom-out visually shows that, their unity, despite all their differences, it is also all of them inside the Umbrella Academy. Them, and Grace, and Pogo, still in an environment that Reginald made. Reginald is still inside their minds. He is gone, but the structures he built, the damage he did to them is not. It’s this moment of catharsis, this instant where each and every one of the siblings allows themselves to be, to live, just for a moment, brought together by Luther playing a song loud enough for everyone to hear, where they think they’re free of Reginald’s abuse, and the rest of the show is them finding out that the death of an abuser doesn’t erase the effect he had. And then the music gets disrupted by someone quite literally crashing the party. But he crashes it from outside the house, because he is the one least concerned with (and, in this season, very clearly least affected by) Reginald.

Five gets his own musical (re-)introduction, and he gets it seven minutes before the end of the episode. Different from his siblings, we get to see his personality before he gets his musical key scene. And we meet him as a kid first, his arrogance, his powers, the use of teleportation to knock a guy out with a stapler. He then appears to inadvertently interrupt the first moment of unity his siblings have had in decades. He brushes off their father’s death. Casually reveals that Reginald has been dead to him for 45 years. It doesn’t matter to him. He has other things on his mind, but of course he doesn’t tell them, why would he? The arrogance is still there, his powers too. He’s insufferable, the viewer understands, and different. Different because he looks like a kid, a literal embodiment of the Umbrella Academy at its height, all knee-high socks and blazer, frozen in time, while at the same time having lived a very different life from his siblings. That’s all the viewer knows of him, by that point. And then ‘Istanbul (Not Constantinople)’ happens, and the understanding of the character shifts abruptly, as do the stakes for the entire show. While the introduction scene with the Phantom Medley and the re-introduction scene to ‘I Think We’re Alone Now’ are about these different siblings, apart, but maybe closer than they think they are, united by the loss of their father, ‘Istanbul (Not Constantinople)’ shows you that this one has a completely different set of problems from his siblings. Namely, he is being tracked down, a wanted man, a very skilled killer. The two montages are so calm in comparison to the breakneck (pun intended) pace of Five’s kill spree. He takes out half a dozen men armed with machine guns by outfoxing them, killing them with a wide variety of items in a wide variety of different ways. While ‘I Think We’re Alone Now’ contrasts the Phantom Medley, ‘Istanbul (Not Constantinople)’ contrasts the Five previously established in the show, especially his childhood self, and shows how his skills have developed. The innocence of the school uniform is quickly lost when he uses its tie to strangle a man to death. The first line in the song is ‘Istanbul was Constantinople / Now it’s Istanbul / Not Constantinople / Been a long time gone, Constantinople.” It’s about how something is technically the same thing – a schoolboy, perhaps – but time has irrevocably changed it, and it can never go back to that old version, because it hasn’t existed in a long time. It’s about Five, and it’s about the apocalypse, and the Commission, but it’s not about Reginald. ‘Istanbul (Not Constantinople)’ is the only non-diegetic song of the three discussed here, as in, it is not part of the show’s internal universe. The song is not playing in a jukebox in the diner. It doesn’t partially exist in the universe, like Viktor’s violin being the violin in the medley, or Luther playing the vinyl in the house. It is so different in principle and execution from the other two scenes, but it is still a scene meant to convey an understanding of the character, just like the other two are.

And despite it being purposefully and obviously different, I still think that ‘Istanbul (Not Constantinople)’ belongs to the other two scenes, that they form a united whole of introductions to the Hargreeves siblings. The diner scene rhymes with the other two, I think, in its marked differences, but there are threads that tie them together. How the violin is a key instrument in both the Phantom Medley and ‘Istanbul (Not Constantinople)’. How the medley shows the Hargreeves in the lives they had carved out for themselves away from Reginald, ‘I Think We’re Alone Now’ positions them in the house they grew up in, in the Umbrella Academy, Reginald’s domain, whereas ‘Istanbul (Not Constantinople)’ is set in a place where the kids defied Reginald. How the theme of loneliness and being alone threads through all of them. How the songs are, in order, partially diegetic (siblings apart but tied together by their past), fully diegetic (siblings enjoying the same thing despite being physically apart) and non-diegetic (the one sibling that is apart from them in age, time, space, part of his upbringing, you name it). How pertinent the lyrics are in each case, even the ones that aren’t technically in the song. I just think all three of them are brilliant needle drops that add so much to the story, the understanding of the characters and their relation to each other, just in the microcosm of this one pilot episode. Also they’re all incredible bangers.

#my meta #tuamre #Soundtrack #i love all of these scenes SO much they are so good at showing and showcasing these characters

[jangofctts]

Thing for Trouble (boba fett x fem!reader x din djarin) (part one) (part two) (part three) (part four)

Rated: explicit 18+

word count: 7.6k

warnings: threesome, smut, thigh riding, oral female receiving, handjobs, unprotected sex (dont be a deadbeat, wrap that shCMEAT), light choking, throne fucking, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampies, pet names, sub? din? more likely than you think (also lmk if I missed any tags!)    

a/n: yall im sorry this is such garbage but kjkwejh here we be. I hOPE YOU ENJOY THE CIRCUS. thank you to everyone who’s encouraged this so COME GET YALLS MANDO MEAT  

There isn’t much when he it comes to Tatooine and fun things to do. There’s pod acing, drinking, Sabaac tourneys, more podracing, gambling and scavenging. Unless there’s a festival or some wild event, you’re stuck with boredom and whatever you can scrounge up for fun in the palace. 

Now, don’t get it wrong—if you had it your way, you’d spend every waking hour trialing behind Boba, but you don’t want to smother. Fennec too—while you enjoy her company, you know that half of the reason she sticks around is Boba’s order for your protection. Kinda ruins the fun when you know she probably only tolerates you because she’s being paid to. Eh whatever—doesn’t stop you from tagging along on as she runs errands in town—besides, today you actually have a reason to be here instead of loitering like a lost puppy. 

Fennec tells you to be safe and com her the second trouble rears its ugly head and disappears into the weapons shop—muttering about her prized rifle being jammed or something. You don’t know, all you hear is that you have the entire afternoon to yourself to hunt down your oh so elusive prize. Star cherries.    

The markets are always vibrant. Jam packed with people from each and every corner of the galaxy, hundreds of booths and stalls selling their wares that varies from foods to jewelry to even bounty services. Tempting as is it is to peruse the sparkly rows of dainty necklaces and rings or inspect the vast array of beige ponchos and manilla undershirts—you have a purpose. A once a year chance you refuse to let go to waste.   

The shabby booth is tucked near the end of the street, the mountain of the little red fruits looking comical compared to the withered old lady who sits beside them. She flashes you a gap-toothed smile, the crowfeet wrinkles surrounding her eyes scrunch with the movement. “Ah! I was wondering when you’d show, dear.” 

“Hello, Mrs. Feraan,” you greet, bending at the was it to kiss her wrinkly cheek. The old vender was one of the first kind souls you met here when you arrived on Tatooine. In return for a couple compliments or an offer to be the lab rat to test her new recipes for pie or tarts, she hooks you up with the best of the cherries—handpicked with love. “How’s business today?”

She waves her hand in dismissal, her silver rings glinting in the sun. “Same as always, child.”

Eventually you work your way through the pleasantries and a couple, long winded tangents. The sort that only old people can flawlessly spin and keep you engaged. Trials and tribulations to earn your prize—you don’t mind sacrificing a couple hours.

Finally you’re allowed to walk away—cherries in hand and exceedingly eager for your sweet snack. Unfortunately, suffering through Mrs. Feraan’s old childhood laments is not the only bump in the road you have to face.       

Granted, it is your fault—not looking where your feet are taking you—

Your temple crashes into something agonizingly hard. You swear you hear a quiet bonk when your skull collides with the mystery material and fucking hell—you probably have a concussion from the force of it. 

Unbothered by your probable brain injury, you’re far more concerned with the cherries spilling onto the ground and so, as you flail and dramatically topple over—the brunt of your fall is cushioned by your shoulder. Something pops and yeah, ok, maybe you just tore a ligament but—kriffing worth it for the cherries you miraculously saved from their dusty graves.     

Your temper flares as you spot the dirty brown boots pointed in your direction. Maneuvering yourself up so you don’t also get trampled by the crowd, you bare your teeth and put on your best impression of a terrifying force of nature despite the fact you’ve been knocked flat on your ass. “What the fuck—“

The words shrivel up and die upon your tongue as your eyes slide up the stranger’s legs, broad shoulders sporting the shiny armor that twinkles in the midday suns. They then settle on an all too familiar helmet. Well, sorta—you’re familiar with a certain red and green one, not the equivalent of a wearable disco ball.

You squint as the stranger’s head dips to look at you crumpled at his feet. You dust yourself off and point an accusing finger. “Fuck is your problem standing in the middle of the road?”

The stranger quirks their head. “You ran into me—maybe you should watch where you’re stepping.”

The raspy voice is a striking sound. Mellow and silky even as it passes through the vocoder and dresses it in static charm. Some of your anger melts away—maybe this is the friend Boba was talking about—it’d make sense. They’re wearing the same type of armor…  

You shake your head and shove down your pride. You don’t think Boba would appreciate you chewing his ear off. “Sorry—you’re right.”

As you readjust your clothes and precious cherries you introduce yourself with a tiny smile. Yet just as you're about to ask him his name he interjects with a step forward. You flinch away but all he does is sweep back a strand of hair from your forehead, revealing a little nick in the skin. You hiss as his fingertips scrape against it--great, an actual head wound. “Are you alright?”

Maker—here you are, after yelling at him and he finds it in him to be compassionate. You wave away his concerns. “Y-yeah--peachy.” 

He apologizes with a dip of his head and words soaked in regret and fuck--now you feel bad. You wrack through your brain and search for last ditch attempts to fix this little mishap and settle with a half baked idea. It’s dumb--but hey, if it works, it works.  

“Seriously, it’s fine. But I mean, if you’re so worried, how about you walk me home and we call it even?” You propose, sticking out your hand to seal the deal. If your assumptions are right, he’d just be tailing you the whole way home anyway. “I’m headed towards the palace, so if it’s not too much out of your way then—“

He hesitates and interrupts by taking your hand. “Alright. Deal.” 

You smile. “Lovely.” 

On the return trip, Din is quiet—tells you his name and responds to your conversation fillers with interested hums—but other than that he remains on the silent end. Intriguing with a rounded softness unlike the armor he wears--a man of mystery much like  a certain someone who awaits you back home. Well--Din is less grumpy--by a long shot...but still. It’s easy to spot some of their shared similarities.  

                                        -=-=-=-

Upon arriving at the castle you part ways with Din before he reaches the throne room--you’re not too excited about showing off your new battle scar yet and while it was an accident, making an entrance with Din will make it far too easy to link the injury with him. Besides, you don’t wanna risk scaring off your new friend if Boba decides to showcase that tightly sealed lid of anger and brutality. 

Instead you take the long way around the palace. Soon, muffled voices carry through the long corridors, growing louder as you work your way back from the kitchens. You round the corner, catching glimpses of Boba and your new friend through the pillars that prop up the low ceiling. You don’t meant to spy, but you do so anyway, hesitant on interrupting.     

That is...until Boba cocks his head to the side and settles his eyes onto the pillar you hide behind. “It seems we have a little shadow with us today.” 

You suck in a breath as your heart skips in a thrumming pace. Boba addresses you by name and crooks his fingers in a lazy motion for you to step out into the light—revealing yourself to the small party of two. “Come here, little one.”

The low light catches off of Din’s helmet with a glittering sparkle when he swivels his head. The tiny, warped figure of yourself reflects in mirror-like pieces of smelted beskar as his shoulders pull tight with recognition. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the smile that threatens to crack across your face at bay. Boba is no fool—he excels in the subtleties of shifting eyes and clenched fists to hide anxiety or closely guarded information—sickeningly familiar with your own quirks and tells, but—  

There’s no reason to reveal Din’s little secret—not yet. Boba called him a friend but you truly have no clue what the depths of that word entailed. Friend could mean anything from a casual acquaintance, to an old childhood bond, and or anything in between. You sigh and brush past him, mentally congratulating yourself for keeping a cool mask of indifference etched into your features. If Din wants to open that can of worms then so be it—you weren’t the one offering to walk random people home. 

You step onto the dais and slide your free hand into Boba’s outstretched palm. The worn leather tickles up your forearm and locks over your elbow, silently demanding you to sit on his lap. There’s plenty of room to both sit on the throne but no—Boba prefers you tucked against the cool metal of his cuirass. You grunt as the bowl of star cherries you cradle dangerously dips when Boba adjusts your weight over his thighs.  

His fingers pull back a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear and then spider along your jawline. The ends of his mouth quirk as Boba pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, capturing your undivided attention. “I don’t like it when you lurk in the shadows, little one. You’re allowed to listen.

You huff. “I know—but lurking is fun.”

Boba releases your chin with a scoff. “Foolish, girl.” You dip your chin with a sheepish grin as heat rushes to your cheeks. You briefly forget about the tiny nick adorning your right temple, the only thing you were trying to keep hidden—but Boba is all too quick to notice. “What is this?”

He pushes your hair out of the way of the cut, inspects it, then curls his fingers around your jaw to demand an answer. You refuse to let your eyes wander over to Din—what a dead giveaway that would be—and instead muster up enough courage to hold the weight of his stare. 

“I tripped at the markets,” you say—not a complete lie. “It’s just a little scratch—no biggie.”

Boba squints in suspicion and grumbles a soft hm. You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh—he won’t argue about it right now. Not a battle worth his while when you’re keen on keeping the full truth behind a wall of teeth and anxieties. Boba’s hand falls away, gestures to Din who still stands stiffer than a stature, then lays it over the golden armrest. “I’m sure you’ve noticed our guest—“

Din tips his head in acknowledgement. 

“The rightful ruler of Mandalore,” Boba continues. “Din Djarin.” 

Din Djarin…despite already knowing his name (or half of it, at least) you like the way it rolls off the tongue—like how it’s seemingly made to be repeated and carved into the walls of some ancient script. Your knowledge on all things Mandalorian is…limited to say the least but you know enough about the rumors. 

“Isn’t Mandalore supposed to be haunted?” You don’t mean for your words to be a pointy jab to the ribs but regardless, it strikes a tender chord within the Mandalorian. You wince as Din shifts his weight and clenches his palm—a long story. “Sorry—I—I’m sure your home is lovely, all I know about it are dumb ghost stories about evil wizards and laser swords.” 

The blood under your cheeks burn red hot. Great. Not only are you a complete bantha brain, you’ve also managed to sound like an impudent child. Boba soothes a thumb over your thigh as you curl into yourself—bastard. He thinks this is funny.        

“It’s not my home,” Din responds, albeit tentatively. “Never been.”

Your brows furrow. Alrighty then.  

Boba snorts and shakes his head. He mutters something in Mando’a and lazily waves his hand, dismissing the line of conversation entirely. It was turning into a dumpster fire anyway—   

With a slow exhale, you remove yourself from the discussion and instead tuck your head under Boba’s chin. The beskar is cold against your cheek but it feels nice against the sweltering midday heat.  

Their conversation fades in and out as you rest your head over Boba’s cuirass, listlessly picking through the bowl of fruit for the ripest ones. You sigh—the next cherry you bring up to your lips is intercepted as Boba’s hand clamps around your wrist and redirects it into his own mouth. You don’t find it in you to be grumpy about the stolen treat when Boba’s tongue slides over your sticky fingers. Still holding your wrist captive, he sucks the tip of your thumb into the warm heat of his mouth and curls his tongue around the digit. Your index finger is given the same treatment before your hand is returned. The beginnings of arousal spark to life below your belly, and fuck—that shouldn’t have been so…so…hot. 

Din’s smoky baritone fades into background noise as the entirety of your attention zero’s in on Boba’s mouth. You purse your lips and suck in a shaky breath, then return your hand to the bowl to fish out another fruit. You don’t need any guidance this time around as you bring the cherry to his mouth—the crimson juice spilling down your palm and part of your arm as his teeth pierce the fragile skin. You breath hitches as Boba dips his head, catching the bead of liquid running down your arm with the tip of his tongue, then swiping s a slow trail up, and over the lines of your palm. He plants a careful kiss there, then breaks away. 

Before you have the chance to reach for another one, Boba plucks a cherry from the bowl and rests it against the seam of your lisp, inviting you to partake in this little game he’s created. A wicked smirk curls over his mouth as you accept—the tart flavor of the fruit spilling over your tastebuds as you chew and swallow. A little wine escapes you as his leather-clad thumb rolls over your bottom lip, bushes past the barrier of your teeth and seats the digit into your mouth—all the way down to the third knuckle. 

You hardly notice the moment Din’s voice tapers off into silence—much too enraptured with the taste of leather and the smooth feel of it over your tongue. You gag slightly when Boba’s thumb reaches the back of your throat, then retreats just as slow. The string of saliva that still connects the digit to your wet mouth, drips over your chin and part of your lip, eliciting a jagged, echoey breath that crackles through Din’s vocoder. 

Boba grins—something that better belongs on a sneering jackal just about to pounce on unsuspecting prey with needle sharp talons, rather than his face. His eyes drift up to address his guest. “Do you see something you like, Mand’alor?”

Din’s head jerks, averting his gaze to anywhere but the throne. He murmurs a weak apology and shifts his weight to his other leg—acting as if he were to look at you a second time, it’d burn him to a crisp or force him to confront Boba Fett’s wrath. Obviously, neither thing would happen, but Din still remains unsure with his foothold in this situation.   

“I see how you look at her,” Boba drawls—not an accusation, just a statement brought to light. Boba’s hand drops to your thigh, the warm weight of it resting just past your knee as Din swallows his nerves and returns his gaze. “It’s alright—a pretty little thing like her is bound to turn heads.” 

A blush hotter than wildfire licks up your cheeks as Din nods in agreement. “She’s beautiful…you’re a lucky man.”

Boba’s grip on your thigh hoards you closer to his chest. He is and he’s fully aware of that fact, but there’s no need to admit such a thing when it’s so blatantly obvious. A lull in the conversation creates a palpable tension—nervous energy and a choice to let this is fade into nonexistence or…or breathe life into that flickering ember of unsaid desires.     

Your heart leaps into your throat when Boba shatters the silence and addresses you. “You’re awfully quiet, princess…what do you think?”

He’s placing whatever this is into your hand and leaving you to call the shots. You’ve always been a troublemaker and there’s no will or way as to why you’d stop now. You look between your lover and Din as a smile curls over your face. “I think…if he’s so interested—why not give him a show? After all, he did bring me home—he deserves some reimbursement for the trouble.”

Boba’s shoulders jolt with a chuckle. “How chivalrous.” You shiver as he strokes the back of his finger down your cheek. “Fine, as you wish, little one—go play.” 

Giddy excitement bubbles through your chest as Boba offers Din to take a seat on the edge of the dais. Din still has an option to escape, to slip through the cracks and pretend this never happened—but stars, you hope he stays. Din takes a step forward, then another—and another until he’s standing before the throne. He studies the raised edge and gingerly takes a seat. 

You abandon your bowl of cherries onto the forearm of the throne and slip off Boba’s lap. You drift over to Din, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching as they rest over his thigh plating. He’s purposefully avoiding your eye as you kneel beside him—still locked onto that niggling fear that this could be some sort of trick or test in resolve.      

Smiling sweetly, you skate your hand over his knuckles—guiding his large palm to your waist and then under and up your loose shirt and bra. Din mutters a curse as you place his palm over your breast. “I’m glad you stayed.”

Pleased with his reaction, you peel off your shirt and bra, breath hitching as Din pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Same—I think…”

With a bit more bravery backing his movements, Din pulls away briefly, shucks off his gloves and encompasses both your breasts. They’re warm and calloused, riddled with silvery scars that stand out against his brown skin, a storybook of past battles—won and lost—all equally important to the fibers of his being that stitch him together into a whole. His hand whispers down the length of your ribcage, no doubt feeling the thrum of your heart beating wildly against the cartilage and bone. It tickles over the swell of your hips then—        

“You said you wanted to give him a show,” Boba drawls behind you, a sharp twinge of hostility lacing his words. “So enjoy the show, Mand’alor, ’nd keep your hands to yourself."

Din recoils at the verbal reprimand and drops his hands speedier than a flash of lightning. You frown and throw a glare over your shoulder. Bastard. Boba quirks a brow and runs his thumb over his lip, the edged sparkle in his dark eyes taunting you into challenging him. You huff and turn a cold shoulder. 

“Sorry, Din,” you purr, scrounging up any and all back up plans to keep you both entertained. “Seems my king isn’t as generous I thought.”

Din withers a bit at the catty remark, keeping his lips sealed tight as Boba growls your name in warning. You don’t pay him any mind. 

You puff up your cheeks and release the air in a steady stream, as your eyes scrape over Din’s armored thigh. Ok—you can work with that. It wouldn’t be breaking any rules…not technically. You step away, paw at your waistband and let the breezy fabric pool over around your ankles, your underwear quickly joining the pile. 

Now bare, you return to Din’s side, his careful inhale distorted into choppy static as you straddle his thigh. He lifts both hands, intending to grab at your waist, but pauses midair. No touching. You lips tilt with a smirk as he clenches his fists and pins his hands to the cool stone instead, an attempt to curb that urge to reach for you. His shoulders knit together when you mold your hand in the gap between his shoulder pauldron and cuirass to give yourself some sort of balance—obviously not used to a soft touch.  

You lower yourself and hiss through clenched teeth. It’s fucking freezing. Goosebumps rush up each limb as the wet warmth of your cunt meets the frigid beskar—the chill much colder than you initially expected. It’s one thing to touch the beskar with an open palm and another thing entirely to feel against such an intimate part of yourself. Din’s visor drops to look between your legs as you give your hips an experimental roll. 

It’s different. You’re used to hardened muscle and fabric, or your own fingers while pleasuring yourself. Your breath hitches as Din’s thigh twitches, the smelted seam of the cuisse bumping against your throbbing clit. 

“Sorry,” Din mumbles, “Didn’t mean—“

“It’s ok,” you smile, rocking your hips to ease into the sensation. “Just surprised me.”

The pace you set is slow, careful not to overwork your nerves as your arousal blooms and metastasizes like simmering coals low in your groin. With each lecherous pull of your cunt against his thigh, the beskar begins to warm to the temperature of your skin—the wetness between your thighs abating the friction and making the surface slippery. A low gasp escapes you once you find the right ridge and angle that just grinds perfectly against your aching clit. Your fingers dig into the cowl of Din’s cloak. 

“Shit—feels good.” Like your voice and little moans jumpstart Din’s ability to move, his large hand drifts to the front of his trousers—an already sizable bulge tenting the dark brown fabric. You squeak as Din's leg jolts for a second time, a burst of dizzying ecstasy wracking up your spine with the choppy movement. 

You suck in another raspy breath as your attention drops to his hand that cups his cock and palms himself through his trousers. You chew your bottom lip and clench your fist gripping his cowl, still gyrating your hips over the beska as Din hooks his thumb into his waistband and pulls them down, slow as molasses. 

Fucking hell—he’s bigger than you initially imagined. Flushed a rosy brown, and half hard already, twitching as Din wraps his fingers around the thick length. Din lifts his head, gauging your interest or disapproval—but kriff—who the fuck would ever be unhappy with that sorta heat he’s packing? You bite your bottom lip, scouring your brain for ideas to convince Boba into letting you taste Din—but your plotting is abruptly cut short. 

Boba sits up and off the throne, his presence looming over your shoulder as he lowers to one knee. You shiver and arch your neck, exposing more of your vulnerable throat as Boba runs the fingertip of his pointer finger down the side of your cheek. “Are you enjoying yourself, princess?”  

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as Boba opens his palm and cradles your jaw. You groan and roll your head back onto your shoulders as Boba snakes one hand around your hip and jolts you forward and down—disrupting the slow rock with a catastrophic interference. Unrefined bolts of plasma shoot up your spine as desire licks up thighs—you need more. 

Boba dips his head and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You grunt when his teeth sink into your flesh, worrying a bruise into your skin. Boba laves his tongue over the throbbing area, then licks a wet trail up to the shell of your ear, all the while you continue to grind on Din’s thigh. Boba nibbles your earlobe and whispers your name—the sound sweeter than any symphony could ever hope to make. Like smoke over deep water or the surging crackle of energy just before a thunderstorm high up in the mountains. 

“You’re allowed to touch…” he says with a rough chuckle. “Go on.”

Your noise of agreement is quickly muffled as Boba interrupts you with a feverish kiss—all open mouthed and breathless as his tongue curls around yours. Your chest heaves for precious air as Boba retreats just as abruptly as it began. With a satisfied smirk ghosting over his lips, he taps you below the chin and returns to his throne to continue observing.         

Dropping your eyes between Din’s legs, his cock, hardened to its full glory and held casually in his  calloused hand, is truly a sight. Your pulse thrums in your ears as Din rolls his wrist and pumps his length, the velvety skin shifting over what looks like fucking beskar underneath. It strains towards his navel as you watch with wide eyes, mesmerized with the way he touches himself. 

Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you touch your hand to his wrist.  Din shudders like your skin is made of sizzling embers that’s broken off the tail end of shooting star—like you’re something too luminous and dangerous to be handled by someone like him. You lift your gaze, smiling into that darkened void of the visor and gracing him with a toothy smile. “Will you let me touch you, Din?”

He nods and utters a breathy yes. 

Fuck yeah.    

Din sucks in a stuttered breath when your hand circles around his thick length. His hips jolt into your palm as you slide your fist to the base then all the way back up. Precum beads over the tip, dribbling down and coating your knuckles with sticky wetness. It eases some of that friction as you fall into an easy rhythm, matching your rocking hips with each pump of his cock. 

Din’s stuttered moans fill the small space between you, dragging you closer to your release that’s suddenly so close. He whines as you abandon his length to chase after your high, your arousal leaking from your center and dripping down the sides of the beskar. Din takes his cock into his hands, fisting himself to your little show of breathy wines and rough jerking of your hips over his thigh. 

Din says your name attached with a broken moan and it’s over—    

Everything seizes up tighter than a jaw clamp as your tumble off that jagged peak of searing, white hot pleasure. It’s raw, sparking off like a blade to metal, burning you from the inside out as you cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your thighs shaking as you curl inward as if he punched you in the fucking gut. It feels like he did. Maker—the cool beskar against your throbbing clit is like you’ve been thrown to the mercies of an electrical surge. 

It doesn’t help either that Din is still pumping his length, hips stuttering as he brings himself to his own euphoric high. The air in your lungs seizes when a fragile groan, light and airy passes through the vocoder. Din rocks his hips into his fist, once—twice and then he’s throbbing and cumming into his hand. Hot ropes of his release splatter up his chest plate and parts of your thighs, his helmet nearly knocking into you as he hunches foreword from the intensity of it.     

Too exhausted to keep yourself upright, you smash your cheek against his cuirass, involuntarily twitching as the last little waves of pleasure prickle through the rest of your nerves. You whine as you watch Din move his hand to collect some of your wetness coating his thigh. He brings two fingers stained with your slick to the lip of his helmet, pushes it up with his thumb just far enough to sink the two digits into his mouth. He groans out a quiet fuck, and repeats the action, swiping his fingers through the mess you’ve made and feeding it to himself. Your cunt clenches as you catch a sliver of his pink tongue that twists between his thick fingers.   

He groans and rolls his head back onto his shoulders. “Please—can I taste you? Fuck—I-I need my mouth on you.” 

Stars—the mere idea of it stokes the dwindling flames into a blaze of want. You look up at Boba and puff out your bottom lip. Pouting and begging hardly ever gets you what you want under normal circumstances—Boba Fett is more stubborn than a rancor—but you hope just this once he’ll be lenient.   

Boba holds out his gloved hand—summoning you to his lap without a lick of protest on your end. Din however makes a sound akin to a whimper when you leave him. Boba gathers you in his arms for the second time, the leather a strange sensation as it spiders down your ribcage and around your hips. You can feel his hardness poking into your backside once you settle against him—his chest plate a cold shock to your naked flesh. You shiver and bury your nose into the crook of his neck, poking your tongue out to taste him. Boba’s cock twitches under you as your teeth sink into him with a cheeky nip.   

“Is that what you want, little one?” Boba rumbles in question. His right hand glides lower, grabbing a handful of your thigh and squeezing. You groan and keen out a whine of affirmation. 

Boba cocks his head towards Din. “Well? You’ve got your wish—don’t keep her waiting.” 

Din shakily stands—hesitating with removing his helmet for enough time that you notice the silence that follows. The vocoder crackles as Din sighs. “Do you trust her?”

“With my life.” Boba states it without a second thought. Your heart twists, golden light spilling from  your lungs and staining your insides with devotion and fuzzy affection. You press a soft kiss over Boba’s jaw.   

“Is she…” Din speaks a word in Mando’a you have no hope to decipher—either no direct translation or he’s purposefully left you in the dark. 

Based on the way Boba almost imperceptibly tenses, you guess the latter. Boba responds with a grunt and an unsure dip of the chin. The answer is complicated—that much you can gather…you push it to the back of you brain for now. 

Din nods, inhales, and steels his nerves. Plastering his hands around the shiny helmet, he tugs it off with a slow reveal of dark, patchy facial, plush lips and wavy brown hair that falls around his olive skin. And oh, his eyes—soft chestnut brown eyes that hold such ache within them—lost things, broken bones, wearing his wounds like decoration upon his chest. Forged in the flames of war, risen from the ashes with murder and mercy rolled into one.      

You wish him a kinder future. One that doesn’t end with pain and a blaze of an unchecked wildfire—the same way how all heroes end up as martyrs.  

Though—right now—you can be the beginning of softer things for Din. You smile and invite him closer, a vortex of anxiety peppered with arousal as his eyes flit over your naked body. He sets his helmet to the side with care and drifts to the foot of the throne—fuck, he’s broad. Why hadn’t you noticed that before?   

Your mental berating is severed when cool air meets the wet heat of your cunt as Boba hooks your thighs over his knees, spreading you wide as far as your hips allow. Din’s unfiltered moan at the sigh of you, sends a volt of electricity through every vein. Din lowers himself to one knee, and then the other, shuffling between yours and Boba’s legs. 

“Can I touch?” He asks, soft brows raising in question. 

Boba lazily raises two fingers in a motion of permission. Your chest tightens at the sight of Din’s boyish grin—warm palms settling over the sharp bend of your knees. His thumbs trace soothing circles over the skin and right as Din decides to swoop down, Boba catches him by the hair atop his head and yanks. Din grunts—the long, arched line of his neck a tempting sight as he swallows. “No marks.” Din’s jaw clenches, but nonetheless, he agrees to Boba’s command. 

Boba hums in satisfaction and untangles his fingers from the mess of Din’s soft curls. Din’s brows pinch together for half a tick but smooth out in the next breath. No use being irritated—especially right now.   

As directed, Din leaves not a scratch. Instead he scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth along the insides of your thighs, threatening to catch soft flesh between them—but he knows better than to act on the urge. He laves his warm tongue over each freckle or blemish he finds, leaving no patch of skin undiscovered as licks a steady trail to his prize. Din mouths a warm kiss over the crease of your thigh, and smooths his calloused hands over your hips, settling for a moment to trace little circles with his thumbs onto the soft protrusion of bone there. Seemingly satisfied, he then shifts them closer to your aching cunt. His hot breath fans over your cunt as he uses his thumbs to glide through your folds, almost curious with his exploration. He makes a little hum of appreciation low in his throat when the pads of his thumbs part your soaking folds.    

You whimper and bury your face into the crook of Boba’s neck, his warm palms a much needed comfort as they tickle down your ribcage, then sweep back up to cup your tits. You cry and arch— Din’s tongue is scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your cunt all the way up to your clit. Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through your abdomen. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—kriff. 

Fuck, you need more.   

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are transfigured and molded into a vicious loop—beginning with those adoring brown eyes, the color of freshly tilled earth and the warmth of sunlight over dappled aspen leaves in the balmy summer afternoons. It ends with soft lips—rose petal pink with devotion crystallizing in his mouth like sugar—madness and uncertainty and lovesick desire is all that he is and you’re not sure if you’ll come out of this unscathed.    

He sinks two deliciously thick fingers into your clenching hole and curls them, only to retract them a moment later to shovel more of your wetness onto his tongue—as if simply using his mouth wasn’t enough for him. Like he needs to savor every drop of your arousal like the golden ambrosia the gods feast upon in their palaces of cloud and endless twilight. 

That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade away like a hand through fog—but you’re going nowhere. You’d stay here, suspended in time forever if the choice were up to you. 

You whine and arch off Boba’s chest plate as Din strokes and curls his fingertips, plucking little gasps and moans from you easier than breathing. He zeros in on that little spot that makes your leg go all jittery and forces out high pitched mewls that echo through the throne room. You’re careening towards another high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure. 

“Stars—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must sting—at least a little bit. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth. 

Your release zips through your body like a flash flood—quick and fatal that leaves you gasping for air and struggling not to let your head dip below the waves. Your high seeps into each limb until they feel heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to work through the muddled thought and remember where exactly you are. You groan and toss your head back as Din keeps going.    

“Another one—let me—“ He moans, opening his mouth as wide as it’ll go so he can devour more of you. You can feel the mixture of saliva and your own arousal dripping down your cunt and over your thighs, some of it pooling on the throne or onto the floor. Your thighs shake as Din pushes you towards another high.        

You squeak as Boba’s palm sweeps up your sternum, locking his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. The tip of his nose nuzzles into your cheek—silently demanding a well earned kiss as his hips rock into your ass, grinding his cock for the barest scrap of friction. You moan into his mouth as Din doubles his efforts, raw and bordering that serrated edge of overstimulation and ecstasy.  

Goosebumps rush over your arm as Boba places his lips right beside the shell of your ear. You feel the sticky heat of his breath fan over your throat and shoulder, and the way his lips skim your ear when they move to form the syllables of his words. “Such a filthy princess…”

You clench around Din’s fingers and moan a half garbled, “Boba—“ 

His weathered palm encompasses the entirety of your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “If only you could see yourself…dripping all over my throne and another man’s tongue.” Boba clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Depraved creature—cum for your rightful king.” 

Wildfire chars your insides as it begins in your core and sweeps through your body. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you buck and squirm in their arms—no mercy as the prickly waves of your orgasm make you hypersensitive to each touch. Even the hold on your hip, while innocent in nature, is blistering as if you suffered from a fever. You shudder as a salty tear rolls down your cheek. Boba catches it with his tongue as your ears pick up Din’s raspy praise—thanking you while spattering reverent kisses up your thighs. 

Struggling to keep your eyes open, you do spot the apparent wetness soaking through the front of Din’s trousers. Fuck—he—he came again while eating you out. You whimper and rest the back of your head over Boba’s shoulder.  

Your belly flinches under his scratchy facial hair as Din travels up, seizing and worshiping every inch he’s freely given before intercepted. He catches your nipple between your teeth, tugs a bit then moves to the other, lavishing equal attention with adoring lips and sweet whispers. When he reaches your collarbone, you’re boxed in against his chest plate and Boba’s. A blush blooms under your cheeks hotter than stare fire as Din gingerly sucks your earlobe into his mouth and breathes out a muted moan of your name—committing the very essence of you to his memory for the rest of his days. 

Your heart squeezes tight like a clenched fist when he mumbles another thank you. Plucking up a smidge of courage, he risks planting a kiss right on the corner of your mouth. You blink—despite the sweetness of the gesture you wince as Boba snarls a curt phrase in Mando’a. Din peels himself away with a minuscule frown and slinks away.          

Yet before you have the chance to remedy the situation of wounded pride and territorial jealousy—Boba tightens his hold on your hips and flips you both, so that now your back is smashed against the seat of the throne, a bit crumpled and sorta folded in half. Your hips hang off the edge as Boba holds the majority of your weight, grinding his clothed cock between the apex of your thighs. 

“Don’t forget, princess—” Boba barks, slithering a hand up the column of your throat. You breath hitches as he lightly presses his palm down. “—what belongs to me.”

Reaching between you, he slides his gloved fingers through your slick folds and sinks two of them inside of your clenching center. You jolt as his thumb scrubs over your clit, still sensitive and edging towards too much. 

“You want me to fuck you here?” He asks, shifting his hold to grip your jaw instead—the rounds of his fingertips digging firmly into the flesh and bone. “Say it.”      

You gasp and scrabble weakly at Boba’s shoulders as he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit. “Please, Boba! Please fuck me—I need it.” 

Boba folds over you, his breath fanning hot and hungry against your cheek. He devours your mouth with a discordant edge, like he’s trying to prove to the entire galaxy you are unmistakably his despite the fact you’re already wound so tightly around his fingers. Boba wrenches himself free and tears at his robe and trousers to free his thick length, leaking and flushed a rosy brown at the tip. He doesn’t keep either of you waiting as he removes his fingers and replaces them with something bigger.       

You both groan as he lines himself up with your entrance and sinks into you, a delicious stretch that leaves you shivering beneath him. “Fuck—so wet for me.”

The first roll of his hips makes an obscene noise that showers shame down your throat, but it’s quickly kicked to the back of your brain as he slams back into your cunt—obliterating all thoughts save for him. Boba’s lip curls over his teeth as he claws at your thighs and yanks them over his shoulder, crushing you even further between the throne and the weight of his body. Each stroke is a liquid fire, tearing you apart at the seems while at the same time stitching you back together and leaving your body begging for more. Like this, it’s as if he’s reaching the deepest part of you, pounding into your cunt and hitting every nerve with deadly precision. Your legs prickle with the stretch as you squirm beneath him, stuck with the brunt of rough thrusts and violent stamina with nowhere to go.   

“Bein’ such a good girl for me." He hums into the juncture of where your neck meets your shoulders. He sucks a mark there and tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of you neck, forcing you into a steeper arch. “Maker, you look so fuckin’ pretty stretched around my cock.”

Your walls clench tight around him as you dig your nails into the fabric of his cowl. You voice cracks with airy moans—attempting to work through the haze of lust and respond. All that tumbles from your lips is a pathetic whine of his name—so close to that precipice again.    

The friction of each thrust scraping against your clit, the way he fills you and the possessive hand curled over your throat. You wiggle an arm between your bodies and rub the little bundle of nerves in a frenzied half-circle. You wheeze as Boba increases the pressure over your throat. 

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands as devastating ripples begin to spark through your core, a live wire an inch away from a puddle of water. “Tell me—“

“You! It’s you—“ You sob, desperate for another release only he can give. “I’m yours—“

Boba snickers and gives your throat another squeeze. “Cum on my cock.” 

There we go. 

You seize and cry out, violent shivers forcing your back to arch high off the throne and into his chest plate. It tears through your being, quick and deadly through your core, spreading to every nerve and shredding through it with molten pleasure. Boba’s voice is a gravelly scrape that vibrates next to your ear, sprinting towards his own deserved euphoria. Your climax still boiling through your blood, is dragged out as Boba continues thrusting—an endless echo that leaves you incredibly oversensitive sore. For the next few moments, his thrusts are too sharp, the grip he has on you too abrasive—but then he’s cumming too. A couple more rough jabs and then he’s seating himself deep inside your cunt, his warm release coating your insides with thick ropes. 

You’re panting breaths fill the air between you, settling like fresh snow over a silent wood. By the time Boba pulls out, leaving behind a sticky trail of his cum and your arousal over the throne, you’re toeing the line of hazy unconsciousness. 

“Such a good girl,” Boba praises, threading fingers through hair and tracing the lines of your face. The the soft drone of his voice mixed with Din’s gentle baritone, murmuring something you don’t catch, casts a dreamy haze over your reality. You’re not afraid that this could back fire and blow up in your face—to move inches from two serrated blades, each seeking for a taste of blood and flesh, is always a risk. But yet, the calloused hands and the sweetness of brown eyes reach through chaos and silence to offer you salvation. You take it with a smile. 

You should invite Din over more often…you think, as you slip into content sleep. 

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sorry if I missed you AH!!!!

#well yall im #bucket fucker supreme right here I guess #enJOY #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #boba fett x reader x din djarin #din djarin x reader x boba fett #star wars fanfiction #my writing

[agustdakasuga]

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 1

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

A slightly different than usual house call leads you to a temporary stay at a mansion to care for 7 young men. It’s the first day of moving in and meeting the family you would be sharing a house with. 

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

As you walked around your apartment, you made sure everything was packed into your bags. Even if you did earn enough money, you never needed anything bigger than a two bedroom apartment. Your job needed you to travel and live in other locations anyway. 

“Hmm...” You headed into your office and took your bag out, making sure you had all your equipment that you needed inside. 

KNOCK KNOCK

“Coming.” You turned off the lights and headed out, opening the front door. You were greeted by a male in a suit. He looked up from his phone, blinking at you while you just headed back into the house. 

“Dr (y/l/n)?” You heard him. 

“You’re early. Your boss told me you would be arriving at 2:30. It’s not even 2 yet.” You replied, continuing to gather the remainder of your things. 

“My boss?” 

“Yeah, your boss. Mr Kim Namjoon? The one who I have been speaking to on the phone.” You looked up at him, who was now standing in the doorway of your home, staring at you with an amused look on his face. You locked your bag after throwing your toiletries in. He let out a chuckle, making you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Ah, yes. My brother.” He said. 

“Oh, you’re not- My bad.” You laughed in embarrassment, placing all your bags together. 

“Jung Hoseok.” He held his hand out to you. You straightened up, shaking his hand, realising that he’s probably one of your ‘employers’. Namjoon had mentioned that the house consisted of 7 family members. 

“(y/l/n) (y/n).” You introduced yourself. 

“I’ll call my boys to bring your things. You ride with me.” Hoseok gestured to the door way and you followed him out. As you headed down, you saw more men come and bring your things down. 

“Sir, madam.” A chauffeur came out of a Rolls Royce and opened the door for you and Hoseok to enter. 

“Bosses don’t usually come all the way to pick me up personally.” You stated as the chauffeur closed the door after you entered. Your eyes followed as he ran to the driver’s seat and enter. 

“Well, you’re gonna be a new, important member of the house. You’re not going to be like the other employees around. My brothers and I thought it would be best to welcome you the right way.” He laughed. You could tell Hoseok was quite a cheery, friendly person. You gave a small smile. 

The drive was rather long. You looked out the window, watching as the car finally stopped in front of an iron gate. The driver poked his head out to greet a man by the gate. 

“We’re here.” Hoseok looked up from his phone. As the car pulled through the gates, there was a long driveway in before a mansion came to view.

“Wow.” You looked up at the mansion. 

“Impressed?” Hoseok asked. 

“It’s one of the nicer houses that I’ve seen.” You said as the chauffeur opened the door for you. There was a butler and maid waiting at the front door for you and Hoseok. Seeing Hoseok, they bowed respectfully. You and Hoseok walked in first, the people with your things following behind you. The inside of the house was sleek and elegant. 

“I have to go attend to some business. The head butler will take you to your room and office.” Hoseok said and you nodded. 

“Bye.” You waved him off. 

“You’re funny. I’ll see you later, (y/n).” Hoseok patted your shoulder.

“Take care of the doctor and make sure to get whatever she needs. She’s more a guest than employee here.” Hoseok commanded. The butler bowed his head to you and gestured down the hallway. You were brought to your room first. 

“Thanks.” You placed your bag down. The other staff came in with your things, placing them neatly in the corner. 

“Are you ready to see your office, doctor?” The butler asked. You hummed with a nod. You went to the stack of things, picking out some things to bring to the office with you. 

“Please, let us bring it for you.” The butler waved his hand and the other staff took the items from you. The butler pointed to the door and you followed him out, closing the bedroom door behind you. This place was like a maze, it was just too big that you already knew you would be getting lost in the future. 

“Here is your office. Master Namjoon has prepared everything in the list you provided.” He informed. You walked around. It definitely had everything you asked for and they were all the latest models. 

“Thank you. Where is Namjoon sshi?” You asked. 

“Master Namjoon is currently out for a meeting. But he should be back soon.” He informed. 

“Alright. I’ll just unpack for now.” You said, sitting down behind the desk. 

“If you need any assistance, please feel free to approach us.” He spoke with another bow of the head before he left you alone. 

This was your job. You were a freelance doctor that worked for private clients. Depending on the contract and requirements, you would decide whether to live in their place of residence to care for them privately, as needed. The residents of this house specifically requested you live here.

It wasn’t a common job but you earned more than an average doctor would and it was less stressful since you were your own employee.

“There we go.” You unboxed everything, rearranging other items to make it more convenient for you. As you sat back down in front of your desk, you found a stack of files in the cupboard. There were 7 folders to be exact. You guessed that these were the profiles of your new clients. You began to flip through each of them. They contained the health records of the 7 men. 

“Recent posterior labrum surgery.” You scribbled down some notes on a notepad. Min Yoongi seemed to be the one with the most recent health problem. 

“Well.” You shut the folders and tucked them under your arm, leaving the home clinic. Thankfully, you managed to make your way back to your room to continue unpacking your own items. 

After unpacking, you took a shower and changed into something more comfortable, a sweater and some jeans. 

“(y/n)! Did you settle in well?” You ran into Hoseok outside. 

“Yes, I did. Thank you. The office is truly impressive.” You spoke as you walked with him.

“We are the ones going to benefit for your services. If anything, we should get the state of the art equipment for you. Anyway, you should meet the rest of the family soon.” Hoseok said.

“Get some tea and snacks.” Hoseok said to a passing maid, who nodded and scurried off towards the kitchen. You’ve seen how rich clients treat their staff, it’s not new. Although you didn’t feel as comfortable, it wasn’t your place to comment or question it. 

“Please, sit.” Hoseok gestured for you to sit in the living room. 

“Ah, the first two. Jin hyung, Jungkook.” Hoseok called out to two males. Both were dressed in suits as well, one not wearing a blazer. You saw a full sleeve of tattoos through his white shirt. 

“Dr (y/l/n), this is Jin hyung, the oldest. And this is Jungkook, the youngest.” Hoseok introduced.

“Ah, yes. The house doctor.” Jin nodded his head. 

“I look forward to working together.” You shook hands with them. 

“You’re the one who had heel stitches.” You said to Jungkook. Namjoon was kind enough to put a small description of everyone in the profiles. Jungkook had the doe eyes and tattoo sleeve that matched the profile.

“Yeah. But it happened a while back. Yoongi hyung-”

“Had a recent shoulder surgery.” You finished his sentence. Jin threw his head back in laughter. 

“You’re funny, doc. I look forward to having you around. I think it’ll be fun..” Jin complimented and you chuckled as well. Jin and Jungkook took a seat, both enjoying the array of snacks that had been laid out. You watched their behaviours, Hoseok was definitely the most outgoing and Jungkook was the most introverted. 

“Have you been to your room?” Jin asked. 

“Yes. I do need to unpack more tonight though.” You said, seeing Jungkook eye a cookie on your side of the tray. You picked it up, handing it to him. He blinked with wide eyes, receiving it. 

“A pretty girl in the house?” A new voice arrived and you turned your head to see a shorter, pretty male there. 

“She’s more than a pretty girl, Chim. This is Dr (y/l/n).” Hoseok introduced you. You stood up and held your hand out. He blinked at your outstretched hand before him.

“Interesting...” He nodded his head slowly as he shook your hand. 

“Nice to meet you, doc.” He spoke. 

“The pleasure is all mine.” You let go of his hand, eyes shifting to see a figure running in behind Jimin. He crashed into the smaller male, making Jimin stumbled forward slightly. He had a boxy, yet playful grin on his face as he wrapped an arm around Jimin’s shoulders. 

“You must be Taehyung sshi?” You clarified. The male’s eyes moved up to meet yours, finally realising your presence. He raised an eyebrow at you.

“You are...?” 

“The doctor that Namjoon hyung was talking about.” Jimin said softly, elbowing Taehyung’s side to get out of his grip. Taehyung pulled away and took a step to the side, eyeing you up and down. 

“Yoongi hyung’s babysitter?” Taehyung stifled a laugh. 

“He’s gonna kill you if he hears that.” Jungkook said with an eye roll. 

“Technically, when it comes to all of your healths, I am a babysitter to all of you, not only Yoongi.” You said. Jimin threw his head back with laughter but nodded in agreement. 

“Where can I find Namjoon sshi?” You asked Hoseok. 

“Someone looking for me?” Another voice appeared. Two more males entered the living room, one of them in a sling. Min Yoongi. The male that spoke had a authoritative aura but he sent you a smile, dimples appearing on his cheeks. Yoongi fell back into one of the armchairs. Finally, you could see all 7 brothers gathered together. 

“You must be Dr (y/l/n). Apologies for not greeting you when you arrived. I hope you settled in well?” Namjoon shook hands with you. 

“Yes, nice to meet you. And don’t worry, I’ve been getting well acquainted with the rest of your brothers.” You nodded over to the 5 males that you have been chatting with.

“I see, that’s good. That is Yoongi hyung.” Namjoon gestured. 

“Yes, the sling was a giveaway.” You nodded. 

“I can see you’re going to be a great addition to the household. If you follow me to my office, we can talk more there.” Namjoon said and you nodded, giving the others a lazy wave before walking with Namjoon. 

“Please, take a seat.” Namjoon said as he closed his office door behind you. You sat down while he sat in his comfy armchair opposite you, the oak desk in between the both of you. You eyed the books on his shelf, the little figurines on the glass racks. 

“Analysing me?” He chuckled. 

“A little.” You shrugged. Namjoon pulled out a folder, similar to the one he had provided you about the 7 boys. 

“You’re quite experienced for someone your age, doctor. I must admit, I was almost in disbelief when I first came across your profile.” Namjoon raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Age and experience are two different things, Namjoon sshi.” You pointed out and Namjoon nodded his head in agreement. 

“I can tell you’re quite a strong character. I hope the boys don’t cause too much trouble for you, if they haven’t already done so.” Namjoon said and you shook your head with a laugh. 

“Nothing I can’t handle.” You said. 

“Yes, I have no doubt that you can handle them. Aren’t you’re curious as to why 7 healthy, young men would need a house doctor on call?” Namjoon asked. 

“Unfortunately, no. I don’t question clients when it comes to livelihood or what they do, unless it has something to do with their health, the less I know, the better. My only condition is, as long as you let me do my job with no problems, I’ll stay out of the way.” You said. Namjoon didn’t even hide his slight surprise by your answer. 

“You’re very different, doc.” Namjoon said with a smile. 

“I hear that a lot.” You smiled back. 

“Yoongi hyung is the main one that needs medical attention now. But I must warn you, he can be a little stubborn.” He spoke. 

“Yes, you can say I was already warned about him by Taehyung.” You chuckled with a small shrug. Namjoon nodded his head and you bowed your head, standing up. 

“But I’ll see how he is for his first assessment. I like a challenge.” You turned to smirk at him.

“It’s good to remain optimistic, doc.” Namjoon smiled. 

“Shall I send him to you?” Namjoon offered. 

“I appreciate the offer. But like I said, you let me do my job and I’ll let you do yours.” You sent him a sweet smile and walked out of there, leaving him in his office. You hummed to yourself, your hands behind your back. As you walked, Yoongi was walking in the opposite direction. 

“Yoongi sshi.” You acknowledged with a wave and he remained emotionless, only giving you a side eye before continuing his way. A smile made way to your face as you walked to your room to continue unpacking and relaxing. 

-

KNOCK KNOCK

“My apologies for the interruption, doctor. It’s time for dinner.” The butler bowed as you poked your head out. 

“Sure.” You stepped out, closing the door behind you. You followed behind him, through more hallways until he cleared his throat and stopped. He bowed and you looked out to see the 7 owners of the mansion sitting at the dinner table. 

“She’s eating with us?” Yoongi scowled.

“Oh, lighten up, hyung. She’s new, a nice dinner would be the proper way to introduce her.” Hoseok grinned. 

“Plus, I like her!” Jin grinned. You blinked, raising an eyebrow as you watched their exchange. Jimin had an arm over the back of his chair, a smirk on his face. Hoseok came over and grabbed your wrist, pulling you to the table. He placed his hands on your shoulders to sit you down. Never once have you eaten with the family or your clients. 

“I think I should-” You started to stand.

“Stay. (y/n).” Namjoon looked over to you and you pursed your lips, staying glued to your seat. Him using your first name and authoritative voice made you comply easily. 

“(y/n)’s not a normal employee, we talked about this. She’s an important member of the household now.” Namjoon said to the others. Yoongi rolled his eyes but didn’t protest any further.

“Enough, let’s eat.” Jin waved to the maid, who served the food. The butler poured wine into everyone’s glasses. 

“No, thanks.” You shook your head. 

“Come on, doc. Let loose a little.” Jungkook smirked. 

“I’m here to work. I don’t exactly let loose on the job.” You said to him, picking up the glass of water to drink. Jungkook grinned at your reply and began to eat. You silently observed them, Yoongi eating his pre cut steak with his free hand, Jungkook stealing Jin’s food and Jimin playing around with Taehyung. 

“So doc, what do your parents do?” Jimin tilted his head. 

“My father is a psychiatrist. Mother is a surgeon.” You said briefly, picking up a green bean to eat. 

“That explains all the analysing then.” Namjoon chuckled, sipping his wine. You shrugged in response, your parents have very much involved you in their jobs from a very young age. 

“Is that why you wanted to become a doctor? Because your parents are doctors too?” Jin asked. 

“I guess.” You said with another shrug. A ring cut the conversation. Jungkook looked down at his phone that was ringing. The other boys stopped eating, casting wary glances towards the youngest. Taehyung cast you a side glance.

“I’ll excuse myself, thank you for the dinner,. I’ll see you tomorrow for rehab.” You wiped your mouth with a napkin as you stood up from your seat and pointed at Yoongi with a wink. He gave you an emotionless stare. You bowed your head and left the dining room, heading back to your room. The butlers closed the doors behind you. 

“Talk about tension.” You shivered and headed to your office to grab some books to read. After some exploring, you found the garden in the backyard. 

“Can I go out there?” You asked a passing maid. 

“Of course.” She nodded her head, even pushing open the glass door and grabbing you a pair of outdoor slippers. You bowed your head gratefully and stepped out into the night. 

The breeze was cooling and comfortable. In the middle of the big garden, there was a lighted gazebo, perfect for night reading. 

“Hey.” Someone said and you lifted your head up from the book in your lap to see Jimin standing there. You just stared at him. Jimin shrugged, tucking his hands into the pockets of his hoodie before sliding onto the seat opposite you. You continued reading. 

“Can I help you, Jimin sshi?” You spoke, not looking at him. 

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’ sound, giggling at the end. You hummed in response, continuing to read. Jimin huffed, moving to lie down on the bench, a hand behind his head. 

“You’re very different than any employee that we’ve had around here.” Jimin spoke, looking at the ceiling. 

“I see...” You weren’t really interested in the small talk.

“What are you reading?” All of a sudden, you felt Jimin’s body pressed against your side, his head tilted slightly, trying to read what you were reading. He scrunched his nose as his eyes skimmed through the words. 

“Boring.” He scoffed, pulling away. 

“Everyone has their own taste, Jimin sshi.” 

“Ugh, stop with the Jimin sshi. It’s weird hearing you say that. Just call me Jimin.” He scowled in disgust. You couldn’t help but laugh at him but nodded your head anyway. Jimin was surprisingly comfortable to be around even if you only knew each other for a few hours. He reminded you of a playful child, who was trying to get your attention. 

“It’s late. You should go to bed, doc. Remember, at least 8 hours of sleep.” Jimin chided. 

“Yes, Jimin.” You chuckled at how he was trying to doctor you, standing up. He walked into the house with you. Surprisingly, he followed you all the way to your room instead of leaving you. 

“Goodnight, doc.” Jimin smiled. 

“Goodnight, Jimin.” You gave a small nod before opening your door. 

~

Ko-fi link

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#kpop #kpop series #kpop scenarios #bts #bts series #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts x y/n #poly!bts #bts poly #poly!bts x reader #poly bts #bts mafia au #bts mafia #bts mafia series #mafia #mafia au #mafia bts #mafia!au #mafia!bts #mafia series #ot7 #ot7 x reader #ot7 bts #bts ot7

[capricorn-stark]

Othello

pairing: jason todd x reader, reader is a psych major because i think the concept of psych majors in Gotham is funny lmao

warning: i wrote this at 1 am, kinda short, swearing

a/n: i got strong feelings towards Othello, The Catcher in the Rye, and Jason Todd, but this one’s for @tadpole-san smirk smirk smirk

part 2

You liked studying at Gotham University’s library for the ambience. 

Whether or not you got any actual “studying” done depended wholly on your mood and whatever being that may or may not have been watching you from above, but even if you somehow managed to procrastinate the entire time you were there, at least you could walk back to your dorm with the comforting fact that you had gotten in your cardio for the day. 

The place itself was gorgeous with its overarching ceilings, long hall lined with pillars supporting a seemingly endless array of books, the cozy golden glow of the lights, and the generally pleasant atmosphere provided by the myriads of students sitting around its tables and lounging on its couches. The entire campus was stunning - but it would only be surprising if it wasn’t thanks to the very generous grants from patrons of the Gotham elite, most notably people like Bruce Wayne.

You had a particular spot you liked near the edge of the library, in a little corner mostly surrounded by shelves with enough space for a few usually-unoccupied couches. Aside from you, the only regulars to sit there mainly just consisted of one other guy who recently had started to drop in every few days or so to listen to music and do his own work. You didn’t mind him - he never bothered you, and you both kept up your mutual solidarity towards maintaining a very comfortable silence.

That was, until one particular day.

“Is that Othello?” You glanced over the book in your hand and saw the guy’s startlingly green eyes gazing right at you over his dark-rimmed reading glasses. He wasn’t wearing his earbuds as per usual, so you figured your agonized sigh of boredom must’ve come out a little too loudly. 

“Yeah,” you finally answered, slowly lowering the book a little. “Unfortunately.” He cracked a slight grin at that.

“What, you’re not a fan of Shakespeare?” 

“I don’t hate him,” you started with a fairly nonchalant shrug, “I just think this book in particular is just kinda-”

“Boring as fuck?” he finished very eloquently, causing you to grin back despite yourself. 

“Yeah. Pretty much.” 

“I can agree with that,” he said with a nod towards the book. “Definitely not one of my favorites, that’s for sure. Good premise, dynamics were pretty interesting, but I couldn’t really get into it either.” The fact that he was discussing Shakespeare’s works in a way that suggested he had fully read the book (without wholly relying on CliffNotes) and that he did perhaps genuinely enjoy some of them suggested to you that he was probably an English major. “And Iago was a bitch-”

“I know!” you nearly exclaimed, throwing your hands up in very evident frustration. “Iago was shady as hell, and I don’t get how Othello never saw it coming from him. Like, no one can be that oblivious, come on. I wouldn’t have listened to him.” RIP to Othello, but you were different. 

He was actually laughing at that point, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“You and me both. You an English major?” You shook your head, holding up your Psychology Twelfth Edition textbook that had been resting on the table beside you.

“Psych.” He raised a brow and you inwardly sighed.

“Jeez - at GU? I’m impressed.” 

Being a psych student at your particular Gotham-based university was both a blessing and somewhat of a curse. The classes were phenomenal and your professors consisted of some of the best and most experienced in the nation - but that also came with the downside that the city you lived in had some of the biggest psychopaths and the largest insane asylum in the nation as well. 

Well, you win some, you lose some.

“It’s not that bad,” you tried to say, but the smirk playing at his lips proved that you weren’t convincing anyone. “Let me guess, you’re an English major.”

“What gave it away?” he deadpanned, chuckling regardless as he closed up his own book and extended a hand out. “Name’s Jason Todd. I’ve seen you around a lot, but we never really talked, huh?” You smiled as you reached out to shake his hand, introducing yourself as well.

“I guess not. You usually look like you’re pretty busy.”

“Something like that,” Jason grinned, leaning back against his chair and sliding off his glasses. Without them, the lights somehow gave them an almost glowing effect. “I figured you wouldn’t want me to bother you.”

Bantering over Shakespeare with a cute boy wasn’t exactly your definition of being bothered, so you shook your head.

“Believe me, that was a lot better than Othello was.”

You saw Jason at your spot again the next day, then the day after and the next, lounging across from your couch and always seeming rather out-of-place with his black leather jackets and ripped jeans, but a welcome sight to you nonetheless. And just like that, suddenly, your visits to the library weren’t just for the sake of cardio and the ambience anymore.

He was surprisingly amusing to talk to, whether it was complaining about more books for your respective English courses or just ranting to each other about the struggles of being a student at GU. It was easy to bond over things like getting your midterms interrupted by random threats from the likes of the Riddler, or arguing over whether or not the city’s latest vigilante, some guy named Red Hood, was actually cooler than Batman himself. 

He had been particularly passionate about that last debate.

Aside from being easy-going and annoyingly attractive, you also figured out that he was ridiculously smart, especially when it came to helping you with your English course. Whether it was explaining the deeper societal message behind a particular reading or helping you research topics for your thesis, Jason had a knack towards figuring out exactly the things you yourself seemed to struggle with. 

“How do you figure all of this out?” You asked one day out of sheer disbelief after he connected The Catcher in the Rye to themes of disillusionment about innocence and one’s childhood, and not just towards the protagonist, Holden, being an ass. “Seriously, I thought I was pretty decent with this stuff, but you blow me out of the water.”

He shrugged it off like it was no big deal, sliding off his reading glasses and setting it on top of the wooden table you were at. You had grown fond of the way they looked on him.

“It’s nothing special,” he dismissed in response, lifting his gaze from the book to fixate it back on you. “You do great by yourself, I just kinda give you a little push with my interpretations.” 

He did that a lot - downplaying the fact that he was actually smart as hell like it really was no big deal. The way your grades had started rising after he started helping you out proved otherwise, though.

“Still, thanks for helping me out,” you insisted, eliciting another slight smile from him. “It means a lot.” 

“Oh yeah?” His tone had gotten cheekier as he leaned closer to you. “How much is a lot?” 

“That’s up for you to decide,” you smirked, moving back and closing up your laptop. “Not me.” 

“You know, if you really wanted to thank me, you should get a coffee with me sometime.” 

“We get coffee together like every week,” you deadpanned and he sighed.

“Not like that. Like a date.” 

It hit you like a truck.

“A date,” you repeated, like you hadn’t heard him the first time. 

“Only if you were into that,” he added, trying to play it cool as he moved to pack his things into his bag. “I’m not working tonight, so I thought you might wanna give it a shot.” That was even more surprising, because he always happened to have a mysterious night shift going on. He never told you what exactly that was, aside from off-handedly mentioning something about motorcycles and Crime Alley every once in a while.

You were still letting it process. 

“...if you don’t want to-”

“No, no - that sounds great,” you interjected, already starting to smile. At the sight of it, he managed another grin himself, an evident hint of relief flashing across his face.

“Right. Yeah. Cool.” He cleared his throat and shot you another grin as he tossed his bag over his shoulder. “Let’s head out. And I’m telling you right now, I’m not letting your broke ass pay for it.”

“Jason!” you protested as he laughed and nudged your shoulder with his, making you join in despite yourself.

At least Othello had managed to lead you to one good thing.

#pandemonium scrawl #I kinda want to see a fic where he works at like a bookstore or something #will i write it? #lmao who knows #jason is an english major #I like that headcanon surprisingly #jason todd is in college #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #dc comics #dc #reader imagine #dc imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #fluff #college au #kinda cute i guess

[binxyu]

He was obsessed with the beauty of colors. Even if he could not see them without you, he adored the way they showed up on his canvas. His biggest fear was losing them and, with that, you. Too bad his biggest fear came true...

>>Pairing: Park Seonghwa (dom) x fem!reader (sub) ft. Jung Wooyoung | artist!seonghwa x photographer!reader

>>Word Count: 4.9k

>>Genre: Mini Series / Requested / Smut & Angst

>>Warnings/Kinks: Begging, blood play, breast play, choking, creampie, cumplay, degrading, hair pulling, light bondage, marking, mess, mirrors, oral (giving + receiving), overstimulation, praise, scratching, size kink, spanking, spitting, unprotected sex, and voice kink

next part ->

The bitter sweet taste of your coffee hits your tongue as you look at the artwork, a vast array of architectural models, photographs, paintings, and sculptures greeting you as you walk into the museum.

You didn’t particularly like coffee. It’s primary purpose was to keep you awake from a long night of editing.

Your heels clinked against the tile and you waited for your boyfriend with a smile, his sluggish steps only making you giggle. You knew he hated this type of thing but he did like you so he was going to get through it.

“You really didn’t have to come”, Wooyoung pecked your lips and shook his head. You knew he’d answer the same way he always did.

“I wanted to. You always look so happy here”.

Bingo.

Sometimes you wished Wooyoung had something else to comment back. That he would describe the colors of everything to you since you’ve never seen them or say how beautiful and unique the abstract art was. Anything else but that he did it to make you happy.

Lots of people questioned your interest in the arts when you couldn’t even see the colors. Why choose it as a career? Why spend so much time staring at black and white filled frames?

Well, you always knew you’d meet the person to introduce those colors one day. That and the fact that, even in dull black and white, you could still admire the technique and beauty of the art.

You always had an eye for detail and could tell if anything had changed on your favorite pieces, even the smallest drop of ink from an employee’s pen. That’s why you stayed awake on most nights, dwelling over the smallest imperfections in your photography.

All of your photos were black and white and you supposed you had chosen that to show that the world was beautiful. Beautiful even in only two shades.

“I’ll be back. I’m going to go to the bathroom”, you nodded and watched as your boyfriend walked away. You took another hesitant sip of the coffee, cringing at the taste but it seemed to disappear as you noticed a new painting on display.

Your head tilted as you admired it. It was definitely unique, an organized mess, and you had to assume it was meant to be abstract. Your eyes lingered to the signature in the corner, small but neat.

“PS?”, your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to rack your brain for any recognition of the initials. You found none.

“Park Seonghwa. He’s a new artist I’ve heard”, you didn’t respond to the man behind you, only staring at the painting as an attempt to figure out the meaning behind it.

“Is he any good?”, the man behind you chuckled at the question and you heard his footsteps approach, standing beside you to stare at the painting too.

“Not sure. Why don’t you tell me?”, the question had you humming in thought, sipping your drink as you analyzed the art.

“Well, I can’t comment on color but the landscape is a masterpiece. It’s symbolic of the chaos of the world. However, I don’t believe it goes with the contrast of the sky. It’s too... calm”, you finished, finally finding the right words to say your opinion.

“You do realize most people only come here to stare and act smart, right? You actually seem interested”, you smiled at the man’s comment and raised an eyebrow, “what do you think the artist should do to make it better?”.

“I’d work on the sky more. Draw the painting together with something more related to the message. If you’re doing chaos you might as well go all out, right?”, you laughed a little and looked to your side when you felt a familiar presence there.

“What’s wrong, baby?”, you didn’t see but you addressing Wooyoung that way had the stranger frowning in disappoint. You hadn’t even given him a glance.

“Work. They said it’s urgent”, you frowned too, not having been able to see the rest of the new works, “you can stay. I just have to go” you shook your head and held his hand in your’s.

“No, I’ll go with you. I can always come back tomorrow”, you gave him your most reassuring smile you could muster and walked beside him out of the museum, too focused on the memory of that painting to hear the question of the stranger. He only wanted to know your name.

Like promised, you did come back the next day. The only difference was that you did not spend the whole time staring at that painting to try to figure out it’s deepest secrets. You looked at everything else first.

A different painting had caught your attention. Well, originally thought to be different.

The longer you seemed to stare at it, the more familiar it became.

It all became clear when you looked at the signature in the corner.

“PS”, you mumbled and you looked over the painting again. It was eerily similar to his last painting but it was perfect.

A slightly different landscape but a sky full of delightfully done destruction.

“He really outdid himself”, you smiled, but then you realized.

“I did, huh?”, this time you did turn to look at the man, admiring his side profile. He was attractive. Actually, attractive was an understatement.

“You’re Park Seonghwa?”, you were a little taken aback, never having seen one of the artists actually in the museum looking at their work. Much less asking strangers for their opinions of it.

“Yeah. Amateur artist”, he chuckled and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Everything about him did scream struggling artist. From the vivid patches of paint on his whitewashed jeans to the array of pens sticking out of his pocket.

His work, however, screamed the opposite.

“Your work doesn’t show it”, you shook your head as you looked back at the painting, admiring how he had taken your advice to heart.

“Thank you”, you took the time of those words to listen intently to the gracefulness of his voice. Everything about him was some form of art. Perfectly made.

“I’m y/n, amateur photographer”, he let out a small snicker at that and you turned your head to look at him.

“Sorry- it’s just funny that we’re both amateur-“, his words were cut off as he locked eyes with you. The world seemed to freeze as color suddenly flooded it, filling the museum with so much vibrancy that you had to squeeze your eyes shut. It was overwhelming.

“Amateur soulmates?”, you joked half-hearteningly as you opened your eyes again, slowly taking in the world around you. Seonghwa was doing the same, looking at every piece of art in such a new light. A new light in a world full of darkness.

“Seems like it”, he nods, looking at his own work. It was the only one still familiar, made entirely of black and white oil paints. That was the world you had both been in for so long.

“Shit”, you cursed without realizing, finally piecing it together in your mind that this was your soulmate. Not Wooyoung. It was never Wooyoung.

“What? Aren’t you supposed to be happy? Look at it all!”, Seonghwa waved around the room and, you did have to admit, it was breathtaking. All you wanted to do was stare at it all for hours. Take in every new detail imaginable.

“Remember my boyfriend?”, your words were like a slap, an awakening call to a once extraordinary moment.

“Yeah, I suppose you’ll have to tell him”, for some reason that pissed you off. Why wouldn’t you tell Wooyoung? You had to. You weren’t just going to ghost him.

“What? Do you expect me to just ghost him?”, your arms crossed across your chest and you lowered your gaze, finding it too much to finally see someone’s face in full color and gloriousness. The familiar black and white greeted you as you stared at your shoes.

“No. Definitely not. I just... assumed you’d be as excited as I am. That’s all”, oh how correct he was. You were beyond excited. You could finally see the world in all its shades and textures with someone that wanted that too.

“I am! I really am, Seonghwa. I need time is all”, his eyes lit up at that and you admired them. It was cute how they widened. The warm color of them almost drawing you in, an invitation to run away with him. To create the most beautiful art with him.

“Keep coming back and I’ll be here. I’ll wait”, you nodded when you noticed his hand hovering over your’s. He smiled softly and took it into his, squeezing it and you felt engulfed with warmth and comfort.

“Till next time then amateur. I’ll look at your photo so you can paint with color”, the artist chuckled and shook his head, already knowing that wasn’t going to work. He liked the intuitive though.

“Bye my amateur soulmate”, your heart seemed to swell in your chest in an almost painful way. You found yourself almost forgetting Wooyoung even existed and that... that was an awful realization.

“You told him?”, the artist asked as he painted, delicately applying the brush where he deemed necessary. You weren’t sure what he was painting, his easel turned away from you and towards him.

“Yeah, we agreed to just stay friends. I think we were already falling out of love anyways”, Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed at that and he looked back at you. Color flooded your world like it always did when he looked at you, but it still caught you off guard each time.

“Why do you say that?”, you kicked your legs back and forth softly as you sat on the counter, the question clouding your mind as you racked up an answer.

“We didn’t really have common interests. I was into art while he was more a business man”, Seonghwa nodded and looked back at his work, making the world go dull again. You hated that. You wished all the colors would just stay so you could see him in all his glory all the time.

“Wait- can you look here again?”, your request was quiet and shy, but the man did hear you. He looked back up at you and you let out a sigh of relief as you got to see the beauty of the room again. His art was hung up all over the walls and you just loved to look at it, examine it.

“You know... I’ve never seen your photography”, Seonghwa thought out loud as he looked at you. He hid one of his hands behind his back and walked over to you.

“Want to see? I have some of the photos saved on my phone”, you started to dig in your purse for your phone but you felt a cold sensation on your cheek, making your head whirl around to look at the man.

“You- you did not just smear paint on my cheek”, the artist gave you an innocent smile as an answer and it was all you needed to jump off the counter and start running for the paint buckets.

Colors flew around the room as you both threw the paint at one another. The both of you ended up looking like living abstract artwork by the time you ran out of paint.

“This is not comfortable”, Seonghwa laughed at your comment as his eyes trailed down your body. The wet paint stuck to your body and he respectfully looked away, not wanted to look somewhere that would make you uncomfortable.

“You can look at your mess”, you giggled as you tried to wipe away the bubblegum pink on your cheek that was way too close to your mouth for your comfort. The artist had some good aim.

Your words made him swoon. Your mess.

“My beautiful mess”, your cheeks went redder than the paint on your chest and Seonghwa chuckled, loving the sight of your flush. This time, his eyes admired your body fully. How the palette of colors contrasted to your skin, how your eyes lit up as you looked at him, and how your wet clothes clinged to your body.

“Can I?”, you nodded, loving that he always asked first before he did anything. You were both new to the emotions that filled you when you were together.

His large hands rested on your waist and then traveled downwards to rest on your hips, memorizing every curve as if you were the most complicated sculpture he had ever seen.

“Can I?”, you repeated the question as you eyed the lewd sight of his bare chest showing through his flimsy shirt. He nodded, his eyes never leaving your body. Your own hands went to his chest, ghosting over his nipples before they arrived at his stomach.

“Do you work out?”, the muscle beneath your fingers was hard to ignore and so was the way Seonghwa’s hands had trailed up to cup your breasts, feeling how your nipples got harder from just that feeling.

“Yeah, I do sometimes”, you wondered why he gave you such a blunt answer but then you realized he was staring at your face now. Well, more specifically your lips.

“Creative and athletic. Anything else I should know to keep me attached to you?”, Seonghwa shook his head and you finally connected your lips together. His lips were soft and plump. They felt so perfect against your own and your bodies pressed together in such a feverous way that you worried your legs would give out underneath you.

His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him, rubbing his crotch against your core. The heat ran through your veins all the way to your thighs, soaking the skin there with arousal.

“How about we make use of this paint?”, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion before your eyes followed where Seonghwa was staring, finding a lone canvas in the corner of the room. It was huge and your mind seemed to click with the artist’s as the same idea pops in your head.

“We’re definitely not selling this”, Seonghwa laughed and nodded in agreement, his hands gripped the hem of your shirt and pulled it up over your head. He wasn’t surprised to find no bra underneath. You were adamant about the fact that if you didn’t have to then you wouldn’t.

“Oh yeah, most definitely not. This is all mine”, his hands gripped your ass and you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly and your arms around his neck. He was so intoxicating and your body ached for me, wanting nothing more than to be used by him.

“All your’s”, you nodded and connected your lips again, tasting your own distinct coffee on them. This time, however, you didn’t cringe at the taste. On his lips, it felt right. Bitter and sweet.

Seonghwa used his feet to maneuver the canvas, causing it to lay flat on the tilt. It was inviting, calling out to be covered in the love, chaos, and art your two bodies could make together.

He laid you back onto it, your back already applying a variety of colors to the canvas. Your silhouette would definitely be the most distinct shape in the painting.

“It’s already a masterpiece”, the artist hovered above you, adoring your rosy cheeks and the way your body perfectly fits on the canvas. He would never forget how you looked in this moment.

You noticed how his fingers were playing with the waistband of your skirt and you gently gripped his wrist to stop him. He looked up at you like you had just told him off.

“You can have me. Take me, baby”, his expression immediately relaxed and he leaned up to kiss you, his tongue exploring your mouth as his fingers trailed up underneath the skirt. It was ticklish and slow, a teasing game you knew he was playing.

“Oh come on. Don’t be a fucking tease”, you smiled against his lips and he pulled your panties to the side, trailing his finger up your slit. He pulled it away and you whined from the loss of contact, but that whine was cut short when you watched him like your juices off his fingers in the most lewd way. He sucked on his digit as he maintained eye contact with you, moaning as your taste coated his tongue.

“You’re delicious”, his eyes were blown out with lust and another wave of arousal went to your core at the sight. Seonghwa’s hands gripped your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the canvas, making you yelp before his head was buried under your skirt. His tongue circled around your drenched pussy and your hand immediately found solace in his dark hair, watching as the bright orange paint on his hands spread on your thighs.

“Please, Seonghwa. I need you”, you tugged on his hair, shivers going up your spine from the wet paint and the feeling of the artist’s cold breath so close to where you need him most.

He doesn’t need to be told twice as he plunges his tongue into your cunt, swirling it around to hit your walls as his finger works magic on your clit, rubbing it in figure-eight motions.

A sweet moan left your lips and your back arched, hands gripping the edge of the canvas behind you. You knew you were scratching up the canvas and leaving any color there on your hands, but nothing mattered at the moment except the pleasure Seonghwa was giving you.

Now your moans were his favorite sound, striving to hear more of them as he curled his tongue inside of you. You were absolutely ravishing. Perfect with every sound, smell, and taste.

“Fuck! I’m going to cum!”, your head rested back on the canvas as a knot began to form in your stomach, begging to be released. Seonghwa continued his pace until your love juices coated his tongue, an even more addicted taste entering his life.

He pulled away, spitted on your hole, and pushed his tongue right back in. Your legs began to shake from the overstimulation as the man mercilessly lapped at your pussy, wanting every last drop of your delicious cum in his mouth.

“You might just be my favorite food now”, your tongue poked your inner cheek in annoyance when you saw his teasing smirk appear, no longer hidden beneath your skirt.

“Might be?”, you scoffed playfully as you tried to calm down from your orgasm. Seonghwa chuckled mischievously and kissed you, the taste of your own release welcoming you and you moaned into his mouth.

“Definitely are”, he corrected himself and you smiled proudly as Seonghwa’s hands tugged your skirt off and he threw the fabric to the side.

“Hold on, I can’t be the only one naked here”, you stopped him with a hand on his chest before he could remove your panties. You sat up and looked him in the eye as you unzipped his jeans painfully slow, feeling his erection grow harder beneath your hands.

You gasped when his hands suddenly gripped your hair and pulled your head back, the sting making your head hurt momentarily. Seonghwa held your hair in a tight grip to keep you still as he removed his jeans and boxers himself, the clothing joining your own in the corner of the room.

“Just for that you’ll return the favor, doll”, he pulled you up by your hair onto your knees, the paint on the canvas sticking to your calves as you eyed his erection. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of his angry cock begging for attention.

“Get to work”, it seemed like such a simple and innocent command but Seonghwa managed to make it sound like the most absurd phrase known to man. He forced your head to his cock by your hair and you opened your mouth like a puppet hanging by strings. Tears sprung up in your eyes as his tip hit the back of your throat and he stayed still to allow you to get used to his size.

You patted his thigh as a sign he could move. Seonghwa started to move your head back and forth by your hair and the sensation of your warm mouth wrapped around him caused him to let out a hefty groan. It was like music to your ears and you sped up, moving your head on your own now.

Your hands gripped the muscular flesh of Seonghwa’s thighs, scratching the smooth skin. You could feel blood start to stick to your fingertips and drip down onto the canvas, but it only soaked into the array of colors already there.

“You feel so good, baby. You want my cum?”, you desperately nodded your head as you looked up at him, locking eyes with his as he came down your throat. Your eyes closed shut as you swallowed him, a citrusy bitter taste exploding in your mouth.

“Pineapples?”, you smiled up at him after he took his dick out of your mouth. He laughed and nodded, running his fingers through your hair softly, a entirely different feeling from his grip there before.

“Mhm, addicting huh?”, the artist smiled and you nodded immediately, collecting some of the cum on your chin that had slipped out of your mouth. Seonghwa watched as you sucked on your fingers, igniting a new fire within him that wanted nothing more than to absolutely ruin you.

“Hands and knees”, you didn’t have to be told twice and you turned around to get in position like a trained bitch, your ass in the air and your back arched. The feeling of your bare nipples rubbing against the cold paint made another gush of wetness rush down your thighs.

“These panties are practically useless at this point”, Seonghwa’s lust-filled chuckle made a shiver run down your spine as he looked at how they just stuck to your folds and he pulled them down your legs. Silence filled the air as he admired you, gaze drifting all over your body and how ready you were to allow him to search it.

“Are you ready?”, his tone was soft as he looked down at you, waiting patiently and rubbing circles into your hips. You felt comfortable and safe with him, pushing your hips back to hear a low groan from him.

“Yes, I’m ready”, you nod and look back at him over your shoulder. He was happy to see you in all your glory again now that you were looking at him as he pushes himself into you, stretching you out deliciously. He watched as your eyes widened and the color within them darkened with lust.

“Loosen up, baby. I’m not even all the way in”, Seonghwa chuckled as you clenched around half of his length that was inside of you. You could’ve sworn that was what you normally took. How was he this big?

“Just relax, I’ve got you”, and you did as you were told, trying your best to relax your walls and allow him to stretch you the rest of the way. Your body shook in ecstasy as his tip caressed your cervix, finally all the way inside of you. You swear you can feel him in your stomach, looking down under you to see if that feeling was right. It was.

Right in your lower belly was the bulge where Seonghwa’s girth sat, waiting to destroy you as your body molds to accommodate for his size. Your legs were shaking and already threatening to close, a sight noticed by the artist.

“Hold on, princess. Hold them open for me”, you nodded as you finally began to adjust, feeling a little less overwhelmed. You felt the raw burn of a rope against your ankles and looked behind you again to see Seonghwa tying them to two cans of paint, keeping your legs widely spread for him.

“Much better”, he realized you were ready and started to move slowly in and out of you, knowing you were already overwhelmed. His hands trailed down to rest on your belly, feeling his bulge go in and out of that spot.

“Fuck, you have such a tiny cunt. I can’t wait to fill it up and see how much it swells up your tummy”, his words made you moan loudly, some tears running down your cheeks as you feel the warmth in your tummy. It was begging for you to release it, but you wanted nothing more than to have your own cum mix with Seonghwa’s inside of you. You waited.

Seonghwa gripped your hair and pulled your head back, watching your facial expressions in the reflection of a mirror across from the room. You were his good little whore. All his.

Every time the man snapped his hips against your ass, you could see paint flying off of you both in droplets onto the canvas below you. This was going to be Seonghwa’s way of having a constant reminder around that you are his.

His hand moved from your hair to your neck, squeezing the sides of it. The lack of air mixed with so much pleasure had your eyes rolling backwards, your mouth hung open as you desperately tried to hold back your orgasm.

“You’re such a good whore. Want to cum with me?”, you nodded embarrassingly quickly and he smirked sinisterly as he watched your body thrash against him. He pulled you back against his chest and thrusted up into you, planning to bury his seed as deep as he can inside of you. His arms wrapped around you to keep you still as you both came.

The warmth exploded into your body, coating your walls and cervix in white. You looked down as he pulled out and there was indeed a bump there where his cum stuck.

“Holy shit”, you wheezed once his hand was off your throat and he laughed before kissing all over your neck and shoulder. His hands occupied themselves with untying your ankles and you were thankful for it, the skin there swollen and red from the rope burn.

“Are you okay?”, Seonghwa asked softly as he looked down at the masterpiece you two had created together. Your body shape was imprinted as the background with drops everywhere of almost every color imaginable. It was gorgeous.

“Amazing”, you reassured and offered him a weak smile, wrapping your arms around him as your mixed cum leaked out of you and onto his thighs and the canvas. It just seemed to deep into the canvas too and replace the colors with what looked to be the white of the background.

“I’m definitely hanging this up in the lobby”, your hands immediately whacked his chest in protest and you shook your head.

“No you are fucking not”.

You stared gobsmacked at the sight of the painting in the lobby.

“You’re an asshole”, you huffed as you turned around to greet your soulmate. His hands wrapped around your waist and kissed you softly despite your sarcastic protests.

“I know. I’m your asshole though”, he smiled into the kiss and your heart felt off. It didn’t swell with joy like it usually did.

You opened your eyes after you pulled away and there was just dullness. No vibrant red walls. No blue sky outside. No abstract fucking painting.

Just black and white.

“What’s wrong?”, you looked at him and his own eyes looked around, trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Look away”, he gently ordered you and you nodded, turning your back to him.

“It’s back!”, he exclaimed and you excitingly turned around only to continue seeing black and white.

“Turn away”, this time he obeyed and color rushed into your world again, but it only made the world seem more broken.

“Seonghwa... it’s back. It only comes back when we see each other”, your heart broke as you realized what was happening.

Oh, fuck you universe.

“We have to choose. Color or each other”, you had heard of this happening before in an article but it was rare. Well, soulmates were rare as they were but this? This was rarer than most genetic illnesses.

“No, we can have both, baby”, he held your hands and squeezed them but you felt so empty now when you didn’t see the beautiful coffee brown that filled his eyes or the brightness of his teeth when he smiled.

“You’re an artist, Seonghwa. Your most popular works are in color now. You can’t let go of that”, you shook your head and stepped back, turning your head so you were no longer looking at him.

The sound of his familiar gasp as all the colors of life flooding his system only added to your despair. It was true.

“I love you. I’m sorry”, you left the studio before he could stop you, jogging outside to your car. You couldn’t deal with this. You wouldn’t let him give up his career for you.

“I love you too...”, he whispered as he watched you drive off, the screeching of the wheels making his body shake as tears ran down his face.

He’s realizing that without the colors, he was just the artist in love with chaos.

Without colors, maybe you don’t really love him.

Solemnly, Seonghwa turns back around and looks at the painting on the wall covered in the love you two made.

Then, he ripped it off the wall and tore it to shreds.

#binxyu #seonghwa #ateez #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa oneshot #seonghwa smut #ateez oneshots #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez seonghwa smut #ateez headcannons #ateez imagines #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa headcannons #kpop smut #kpop imagines #park seonghwa #park seonghwa oneshots #park seonghwa smut

[strawbeebo]

~♡ Damned If I Do ♡~

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Fem! (She/Her) Reader

Warnings: ❌MAJOR SPOILERS!!❌ Seriously, if you aren’t caught up with the manga, don’t even finish reading this description lmaooo

Words: 5.5K

Genre: Fluff & Angst

A/N: this has shit that’s 100% me taking shit into my own hands and assuming the shibuya incident ends with things going well for those still alive and everyone returning to the Tokyo school for rehabilitation and mourning so ye ye ye. also i’m delving into completely unfamiliar territory so don’t @ me if it makes no sense LMAO

As always, if you enjoy this and want to see more of my work, PLEASE consider reblogging as it’s the best way for my works to get around and keepin’ me motivated to make more for y’all!

❌ MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD ❌

Gojō remembered the first time he met you, after all, how couldn’t he? It was actually a pretty funny situation, but if Nanami had a say in it he would heartily disagree.

It was his birthday, something Nanami had never put much thought into and actually preferred others to treat it in the same way. For the longest time, his birthday was just another day that happened to show that he had been on this hell of an earth for one year longer than the year before. It was a countdown leading to nothing when he had nothing he really wanted to live for, but when he met you, that seemed to change in a blink of the eye. Well, at least your relationship felt just like that, a ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ type situation, but despite that, the handful of years he had spent with you felt like something he never could have even dreamed up happening.

You had met by chance, running into each other at the grocery store. It was nothing special, he had quite a few more items than you did so he offered up the spot ahead of him so that you could get through more quickly. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately so, the line was still fairly long so you decided to strike up a conversation with him following your list of ‘thank you’s’. You thought he was nice, a little bit on the serious side and not overly cordial, but you could tell just from that short conversation that he was the type of person you could sit with and not say a single word and still feel comfortable and content. He had a sort of calming, mature air about him and with a handsome face to match, you couldn’t help but think about how surely a man like that had someone waiting for him back home, wherever that was. Either way, before your conversation could go on for long, you had to turn your focus to checking out, so you thanked him once more for letting you pass him and simply went on your way, not thinking in the slightest that such a minor encounter with a stranger would change your life like it had. Your life continued on as normal and so did his and, for a few months at least, things went on as such until the two paths of your respective lives came together once more.

This time, it was at a small café that you later learned was near his place of work, so he frequented it often. You actually didn’t see him at first, he had intentionally chosen a table that was at one of the corners closer to the entrance so he could be away from the noise of the front counter, but the cafe was a bit packed that afternoon so it didn’t really matter in the end. You had only noticed him because you were looking for a place where you could sit and your disappointment in the fact that there didn’t seem to be any empty tables was soon replaced with intrigue in response to seeing that vaguely familiar face. It took you a moment, but his unique features allowed for your memory to be jogged quickly as you made your way over to him after putting in your order, starting with a small wave to get his attention.

To your surprise he actually remembered you, though that was for the better since it made you feel a little bit less creepy about remembering him. You introduced yourself, something you didn’t feel like you had to do last time but for some reason with this meeting, you felt it was appropriate. He returned the favor, ‘Kento Nanami’ was his name, something that at first didn’t seem to suit him well, but who were you to say? Your small talk continued and, while you didn’t actually have any intention of ‘using’ him for the empty chair that sat across from him, the topic of how busy the cafe was came up and his request for you to sit with him followed soon after. You turned him down initially, you assumed he was working since he had both his laptop and his phone laid out in front of him and you didn’t want to be an annoyance, but he politely insisted it was not bother for him, so you eventually accepted his offer.

You were only on your break after all, so you figured it wouldn’t be long and that if you drank your coffee and ate your chocolate croissant quietly, he wouldn’t regret allowing you to share the small table, though once again to your surprise, it was him who started up another conversation a few minutes after you got settled. You talked about your respective work, his disdain for his job being clear as day even as he seemed to try and justify it either to you or to himself, but you almost felt bad speaking of your boring day to day job that didn’t seem nearly as bad as his. Aside from work however, you spent a lot of time talking about good places to eat in the area as it seemed you shared a love for good food amongst a few other things. He was as nice to talk to as you had initially imagined he would be, to a point where you had to cross your fingers and hope that he didn’t notice your interest peak and your eyes flicker to his ring finger when he happened to mention living alone. To be honest, you had never really been one to put yourself out there unless the person who you found an interest in had a clear interest in you in return, but when you stood up to leave, you felt compelled to slip him your number written on a piece of notepad paper you always kept in your purse, telling him if you ever happened to be out at the same time, you’d like to meet up for coffee or something another time.

He, much like you, wasn’t particularly romantically focused, but he accepted the offer nonetheless. If anything, he wouldn’t deny it was nice to have some company that wasn’t his coworkers. You were polite and all, though for some reason, he felt a want to get to know you on more than a ‘small talk with a stranger’ level. He didn’t have much to go on, but that was all the more reason to get to know you more, and that he did. You had one more meeting over coffee, and then once again, this time at a different café you had told him about. He liked to stick to his routine, but it was cute how excited you got raving about how amazing their cherry danishes were, so he decided it couldn’t hurt. From there his feelings of ‘it couldn’t hurt to go’ slowly turned to him waiting to see you again, for once tapping his pen in annoyance not just because he wanted to get out of another pointless meeting, but because he wanted to see you. You had become a breath of fresh air in his mundane life, one that made all those late nights seem slightly less exhausting and after some time, made the idea of making money for himself come second in his thoughts. Your coffee dates turned to dinners out, then to him cooking dinner for you, then to nights spent together that ended with both of you being late for work the following mornings.

You had gotten more than ‘close’ over the span of a year or so, so much so that after many evenings of you commenting on how you could tell something was wrong, he decided that you were someone he could trust with the information regarding his former work as a sorcerer and eventually, you were a big part in convincing him to go back to it, something that, thinking back, you both regretted and welcomed as a fantastic idea. Despite the injuries you’d see him with, he seemed...lighter, as if something that had been previously bothering him had vanished with him returning to the objectively much more relentless work. Still, you could tell he was happy in his own way and as cheesy as it sounded, if he was happy, then so were you. A few months after that and you decided there was no point in living separately if you were spending almost every night over at his place anyways, so the two of you moved in together. Things were about as normal as you could possibly imagine being with someone who did what he did, but with you, a sense of normalcy was all he wanted.

Another year passed and he fully welcomed his thoughts making the change from thinking about how he was going to live out the rest of his life in a tedious manner to how he was going to live his life with you in it. Hell, even his acquaintances could tell you were more than just some woman he was seeing because if you were, they wouldn’t know about you at all. He was rather private like that, everything about his personal life was very much on a need-to-know basis that in his eyes, they didn’t need to know, especially Gojō, but unfortunately you had asked for a few contact numbers just for emergencies and Gojō happened to be one of them. It didn’t take him very long to abuse said connection though, and before Nanami knew it, he was walking into a private party room of a small restaurant the two of you frequented often, only this time he was met with an obnoxiously loud array of ‘Happy Birthday’s being shouted at him. Still, the sheepish smile you wore as Gojō explained he had been secretly planning this little surprise party with you was more than enough to make him ok with his birthday being celebrated in such an over the top way. More than that, something about the way you interacted with his coworkers and students made him...oddly happy. The way you handled Itadori’s numerous enamored questions about your relationship, being able to hear that loud, full on laugh you let out at the stupid stories Gojō told about when the two of them were in school, and all the little small talk in between as you got to know eachother. He hated to admit to thinking of them as his family, but he knew there was no other explanation as to why he felt so fortunate to see you all get along so well.

That night felt like it went on forever, though slowly the party began to thin. The students left first, they had lessons early in the morning after all, and eventually it was down to him, Gojō, and you. You shared a drink with them before tapping out early with an apology, you had pulled an all nighter the night before and the exhaustion was starting to set in, but you insisted he stay out a little bit longer and enjoy himself and after a quick kiss on the cheek goodbye and a whispered “Happy birthday, Kento.”, you were off to hopefully catch the last train home. Nanami knew what was coming next as he could see the knowing look on Gojō’s face before he even turned back to look at him, and maybe it was the alcohol, but he didn’t mind the conversation that he knew was about to follow.

It started with a simple comment.

“She seems awfully nice. Too good for you, don’t you think, ‘Nanamin’?~”

If he were being honest, he would have answered ‘yes’, but that wasn’t something he really wanted to get into. Instead he brushed him off, making a comment on how he sincerely hoped he wasn’t suggesting that somehow Gojō would be a far better option for you, to which he laughed in return. They talked quietly like that for a while, after all Gojō hadn’t gotten to hear the whole story yet and he was intrigued about how this seemingly normal woman managed to wiggle her way into the overly serious and stoic Nanami’s heart. He didn’t ask that directly though, instead he just listed off different harmless questions about what you did for work or what kinds of things you liked. It wasn’t the answer itself that necessarily mattered, but with the way Nanami spoke about you, he could tell that he was simply taken by you. For someone so blunt and pessimistic, when he spoke about you, even if his tone didn’t change, Gojō could practically see the passion he held for you in his eyes. Still, he couldn’t let his carefree reputation be tarnished so to hide his interest he would crack a few jokes and, as always, Nanami would respond with something clever. The night droned on like that until finally, in a slightly more serious tone, Gojō asked a question that Nanami had already asked himself many times over.

“So, you gonna’ marry her?”

It was a simple question with a technically simple answer, however it took much more pondering than one would think. The life he lived was a dangerous one, one that rarely made room for romance at all, let alone marriage, but somewhere along the way, you had helped him break from his repetitive schedule of a life that was meticulously planned and for once, this was something he was certain of even if the outcome itself wasn’t so. The two of you had already had this conversation, more than once actually since he was the one who needed some convincing, so it was really just a matter of ‘when’ rather than ‘if’. Still, he didn’t have to let Gojō know that.

“....I’ve thought about it.”

“Uh huh. So can I see the ring?”

He should have known there wasn’t a single thing on this planet that Gojō couldn’t pick up on. With a sigh, he reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out the small black box that he had carried with him practically every day that he wasn’t working since he had bought the damn thing and placed it on the table. Gojō snapped it up almost immediately, flipping the lid open and lowering his glasses to look at the ring properly. It was simple, something that wasn’t surprising since Nanami didn’t put much meaning into materialistic things and you didn’t seem like the type to want something too excessive anyways.

“A sorcerer’s salary sure doesn’t buy much does it.~~”

The box was snatched away from him in a matter of seconds as he continued to laugh it off as Nanami mumbled about how ‘he shouldn’t have bothered’ despite the fact he knew Gojō was just messing with him. Slowly, the topic faded and after one more drink, they were back to their own personal realities which, luckily for him, involved slipping into bed with who he was sure was the love of his life.

The morning came and went and your worlds settled back into their odd sense of a different kind of ‘mundane’, one that involved curses and demons, but was saved by the comfort and love you had for one another. However even that could only hold up your spirits for so long and with every passing day, it seemed like Nanami was always coming home with worse news, and that was with him sparing you as many of the details as he possibly could. Even with him explaining it to you, there were still things you didn’t understand, but you knew that things were escalating in the world of jujutsu sorcerers and curses. The flashes of true normalcy and happy days seemed to appear so few and far in between lately, the days where you could visit him and the students he helped out with became a thing of the past as said meetings were deemed ‘unsafe’ by the higher ups.

Then, all at once, it seemed the steady decline of the situation seemed to falter just for a moment before sinking even deeper than any of them could have possibly imagined. You knew this mission in Shibuya was different from anything leading up to it just from the way Nanami spoke to you before he left. He made a point to never treat you like a child or as if you couldn’t handle the work he did, however this time, unlike before, he made a point of telling you about the amount of sorcerers that would be there and that they already had an idea of what the curses’ plans were. He was reassuring you that this would be no different than any other mission, and that alone was enough to let you know things were much more dire, but as if that weren’t enough, he held you with a lack of his usual confidence, keeping his arms locked around you for longer than usual before pressing a sweet kiss against your lips that you wished to god you could have savored more than you did. He assured you once more, told you he would call you as soon as he possibly could, and he was gone.

You didn’t even live that close to Shibuya, but with the amount of noise and the way the ground shook that night, you felt even people halfway across the world could feel the sheer amount of power that was devastating the area. You didn’t dare turn on the news, so instead you simply waited. You kept waiting until somehow, you fell asleep. You waited through your morning coffee that you could hardly stomach, waited through the calls and texts from coworkers and friends asking if you had seen the news, you waited and waited and waited. Every call that wasn’t from him became irritating, and as the afternoon passed and the sun began to set, you felt every wave of emotion fall over you. You began to agonize as night fell, calling Gojō you don’t know how many times before eventually falling asleep, no doubt due to stress.

You woke up to a call from the principal of the school Kento worked for, someone you had never even spoken to before, asking you to come to the school the following day. That wasn’t the call you were waiting for, that wasn’t who you wanted to hear, but what else could you do? How long could you reasonably wait to hear Kento over the phone apologizing for being so late and complaining about the amount of overtime these curses were running up? All you could do was agree to be picked up by one of the few sorcerers left, who oddly enough wasn’t the usual black haired man who you had seen drop off Kento on occasion. The young woman didn’t speak much aside from confirming your name, but you were glad for that as you didn’t know what you would say. Or rather, you didn’t want to ask the question that was clawing at your skull because somewhere deep past the threads of hope you were hanging on to, you knew what the answer would be. You could feel something was wrong from the moment you woke up that morning to right this second as you walked with bated breath before being asked to sit in a small lounge room.

It wasn’t long before you heard the slide of the door and were met with the familiar young face of Itadori and lengthy figure of Gojō who, for as strong as Kento had described him as, looked particularly exhausted and lacked that usual grin he always wore.

“...We need to talk.”

Never had those words made your chest feel so tight, but as the rest of his explanation spilled past his lips, you felt emptier than you ever thought was possible.

You knew from the beginning of the end that he was gone.

You knew, yet nothing could have prepared you for the words your heard cried from young Itadori’s mouth as he practically collapsed down onto his hands and knees with his head bowed to the floor as he sobbed out a whirlpool of apologies and regrets that made your stomach turn in knots. You felt cold and painfully numb, as if you were off in a dream somewhere watching all this happen, your brain scrambling for a way to prove that none of this was real. You didn’t feel in control when you got on your knees and hugged Itadori close to you, your own tears finally beginning to spill from your eyes as reality set in and yet, you still tried to mutter through your own weeping that it was ok, it wasn’t his fault, it will be okay. It felt like an eternity that you were crumpled on that floor next to this poor boy, your thoughts completely shut down by your emotions. You had talked about this so many times, sworn up and down that no matter what happened to him, you wanted nothing more than just just be with him. Now, you couldn’t remember how you convinced him of that, because suddenly you weren’t sure how you could possibly be ok with him gone. What was next? Did you even have a single faction of your future planned that didn’t involve him? Over and over your brain went back and forth, between acceptance of this new reality and ridiculous explanations as to the ‘fact’ that somehow, they were wrong. That they missed something, that Kento hated overtime more than anything else and would be waltzing in with nothing more than a few scratches and bruises and ask you what you were doing on the floor like that. It was then that you must have either passed out or dozed off as you could have sworn you felt the phantom of his embrace and his lips pressed to your forehead.

——————————————————————————

For all the late night dramas you watched on television, you could never quite understand what people meant when they said ‘it all passed in a blur’ in regards to what followed after a loved one passed away, but now you knew with certainty that description was not far off from reality. You felt as though you did nothing but cry for days, days that were spent at the school since the mere thought of going home to an empty apartment made you feel sick. Every time you thought you couldn’t cry any longer, there was always something, an item belonging to Kento being offered up to you or a question in regards to his funeral that would send you further down the spiral that you already thought you had reached the bottom of.

The numbness began to fade, slowly, but as awful as it sounded, luckily things around you seemed to be moving just as slowly due to the sheer amount of chaos there was to be dealt with. You tried your best to pull yourself back up again and you were fortunate for the lack of pressure from the others to do so because the reality was, you didn’t know what to do, so for a while, you really didn’t do much of anything. Some days you cried for hours on end, some days you were angry, some days you just didn’t feel much of anything. Days turned to months, though now some of those days were occupied by grief counseling that seemed to help the more you got used to it. You were finally able to return home, though even after another few months of counseling, it felt hard at times with how empty it was. Still, having all of Kento’s friends and acquaintances nearby helped and you all supported one another in the ways that you could.

Eventually you found yourself able to think about Kento more fondly and less about the fact that he was gone. You slowly began working again, you were lucky to have an understanding boss who didn’t have a problem with you having days here or there where you still couldn’t quite handle a normal work day. You also took your counselors’ advice of taking care of yourself physically quite seriously, though most of that motivation came from the fact that if Kento could say something to you now, he would be more than willing to scold you for missing meals or not drinking enough water. Little things like that were working their way into your thoughts more often and you found yourself able to smile again, pushing yourself forward with the idea that Kento would give you as much time as you needed, but you knew he would still hope that you’d be able to find your old flow of life once more.

It had been a while, you still felt off in regards to being social, but you had finally decided to reach out to Gojō and ask him out for a drink. To be honest, you hadn’t been keeping up with the sorcerers as of late. At first you obsessed over it, your lover had given his life over their cause after all, but it was doing you no good and eventually Gojō genuinely convinced you that he was going to keep you up to date on everything significant and let you know what was happening. As far as you knew, they were still in a bit of a recovery period, thought that was partially because the opposition had been awfully quiet while they were left with little to no leads to follow. Still, Gojō was more than happy to hear from you about something other than updates and happily accepted your offer.

He wasn’t surprised at your choice of restaurant being that same one both you and Nanami had loved, but he still felt ill prepared to face that longing look you had as the two of you met up in front of the place. You still looked worn down, but you seemed well off enough considering the situation and the amount of time that had passed.

“He pretended to be pissed off the last time we were here together, but he was really happy that day.” You started, nursing a cup of the shared bottle of sake the two of you had ordered.

“Really? I’m sure he’d deny that with everything he had.”

“Yeah,” You said with a short laugh and a tired smile. “He probably would.”

The two of you talked a bit about nothing in particular, you could tell he was avoiding any mention of his work and the current state of things, but you didn’t mind. That wasn’t why you wanted to see him anyways, though to be honest, you didn’t know exactly why you had wanted to meet up with him. Maybe you just wanted to feel close to Kento again, a part of you dreaming of a world where the three of you were chatting over drinks, just like before. Your chatter quieted, the silence between the two of you drowned by the quiet murmur of the other customers before you finally decided to speak something that had been on your mind as of late.

“I- um…” You started, the telltale tightening of your throat creeping up on you as you gently fiddled with your cup. “...I’ve- I keep thinking...or maybe daydreaming...I think about what would have- what we would have...been.” You finished, stumbling over your words in the process as you tried to fight back against your own emotions.

You knew that thinking about all the ‘what if’s’ was probably horrible for your mental state, but sometimes, when you were really alone with your thoughts, you just couldn’t help yourself. A part of you thought that maybe if you thought about it enough, if you wished for it hard enough, your dreams would somehow come true. Even knowing that in the end that could never happen, those thoughts were always bittersweet in a way. In the end you were and always would be happy for everything you had with him, even if your time together was cut short.

“This has been a topic of debate, you know.” He spoke, tapping a finger on the table a few times as if in thought. “The consensus was ‘don’t give it to her’ but I disagree and I think Nanami would agree with me for once, so I took it anyway.”

For a moment, you weren’t sure if he had heard you correctly, or maybe he didn’t understand what you were saying? Your questions were quickly snuffed out before you could even ask them though as a small black box was placed down in front of you and your heart just about stopped. Your mouth hung open as you looked at him and he simply gestured for you to open the box. You did just that, staring at the simple ring with a single pear-cut opal set in the center, a stone you had commented on loving seemingly years ago. Your fingers felt tingly as you reached for it, your mouth finally closing once you finally held it in your hands. All at once your emotions began to overflow with the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes.

“I’m no expert, but I think you woulda’ gotten married. Obviously I would be the best man and Nanami would find some new ugly tie to wear.” He said with an air of reminiscence for something that never actually was.

“You’d probably look great, but that’s a given. Then you’d party and get drunk and finally go home so you could do some stuff that would end up with us having some good news a few months later….Ok maybe no kids but I’m sure the two of you could make a damn good night out of it.”

You were silent for a moment, and then you burst out with laughter that quickly dissolved into crying as he handed you napkin after napkin to wipe your face with. You wondered how Gojō could make everything sound so simple and make you somehow both overjoyed and saddened at the same time, but after a while, you were left smiling even though you still had tears running down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry that couldn’t come true.” He spoke in a more serious tone, a gentle smile gracing his features. “-But, who knows? Maybe it could, someday, with someone. Point is, you should know that all Nanami ever wanted was to be happy with you. Whether or not that was for a hundred years or two, he was more willing to ride that train through than he was with anything else. He knew there was a chance that being happy with you could only last so long, but he’d want you to keep living and loving the things and people that you do. That’s what he fought for, after all.”

You nodded, laughing once more through your most likely obnoxious crying. You knew there was no way you could ever get over that want to have lived a happy life forever with Kento, but you also knew it would break his heart if you were never at least able to enjoy the rest of your life alongside the grief you held. You wiped your eyes once more, your tears finally ceasing, and you slipped the ring onto your left ring finger and lifted your hand up to admire it and everything it represented.

“Would you look at that!~ Guess he really did have an eye for perfect measurements.”

You smiled and gave him a nod, unable to tear your eyes away from the ring that now sat proudly on your finger. This was where your life and your love had led you, mourning for the loss of everything you had and yearning for the things that you now knew would have been, yet you knew from him proclaiming it many times that if there was one thing Kento cherished, it was the fact that you gave him something to look forward to, a reason to truly live rather than just go through the motions. He would want you to live the rest of your life just the same, even if it was without him. You would love those you held dear, you would laugh til’ you couldn’t breathe and cry until you ran out of tears. You would eat your favorite foods, sleep in on your days off for as long as you could, and be sure your calendar was marked with little “X’s” for even the smallest of things to look forward to. You would live your life to what you felt was the fullest with him in your heart throughout all of it until maybe, someday, you could see him once more to finish your story with a long awaited “I do”.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #jjk

[oakensherwood]

Okay, let’s talk about Maid Marian. Let’s really talk about Marian. So often I see her character disparaged as a damsel in distress without agency of her own, but that is honestly so far from the truth. In fact, Maid Marian is considered to be one of the earliest examples of the “strong, independent woman” character archetype. Not only is it untrue to call her a damsel in distress, it’s also unfair.

As with many stories, Robin Hood is a story filled with men. I love it, but there’s no denying it’s a story filled with men. As the only prominent female character in a story that has been retold for close to 1000 years, centuries of ideas about femininity have been funneled into this singular character. Among the array of male characters, we see many ways to be masculine: smart, witty, artistic, strong, brave, charitable, loyal, both fighters and lovers. All of the characters have been adapted through the years, but Marian can still be distinguished as the only canonically present female character in the main cast.

Other women we traditionally see include Alan’s bride, the Prioress of Kirklees Abbey who murders Robin, Marian’s serving woman, and a few queens. Various contemporary novels, films, and TV representations have added women to the cast to even it out, but Marian is still the only primary female cast member. As such, centuries of what it can mean to be a woman have been reflected through her.

Let’s take a look at what exactly that has looked like through the years.

One of the things I love best about Robin Hood as a legend is that it is constantly evolving and changing for the needs of the audience. Across centuries and decades it has been changed to suit the ideas of the day. Even the oldest extant documentation of Robin Hood is not considered the “original version” because there is no way of really knowing when or how these stories started, or how long it took for them to be written down. 

So, just as there isn’t a standardized Robin Hood, there isn’t a standardized Maid Marian. We know that she was added later in the Robin Hood tradition, during the 15th century as part of May Day celebrations, and quickly became a common character in future iterations of the Robin Hood story. Her origins are still murky at best, and it’s impossible to pinpoint the very first time she was introduced. 

Her many origins include a shepherdess named Clorinda from Child Ballad 149, an unrelated Marian character in 15th century May Day games who happens to also have a lover named Robin, and a historically based woman named Matilda Fitzwalter appears in Anthony Munday’s “Huntingdon” plays from the 15th century. Furthest from our understanding of Marian is a play titled Robin Hood and the Friar, very merry and full of pastime, proper to be played in May Games. In this play we find Marian as a “trull” a.k.a. prostitute, employed by Friar Tuck. A far cry from how we know both Marian and Friar Tuck today. So far, she’s a working woman, a noblewoman, a romantic interest, and a prostitute. 

The best known and most enduring of these early variations is Child Ballad 150 (you can read it in full here). In this ballad, we see Marian dress as a boy, and go into the forest fully armed, to seek out her lover, Robin Hood. When she finds him and does not recognize him, they begin to fight and Marian handily beats him in their sword fight. Robin immediately asks her to join the Merry Men, they recognize each other, and return to camp for feasting and a “happily ever after” full of adventures. 

- Child Ballad 150

“With quiver and bow, sword, buckler and all,

Thus armed was Marian most bold.”

This ballad is reminiscent of introductory stories of the Merry Men -- Robin meets a stranger, they fight, the stranger wins, and Robin offers them a place in his band. 

We can clearly see in Child Ballad 150 that Marian was considered Robin’s equal and a regular member of the group from early on her individual tradition. Other parts of her early tradition survive as well -- she’s a romantic partner for Robin, and a noblewoman.

As we progress forward in Robin Hood traditions, we continue to see the story change. Notable changes occur during the Victorian period, when general interest in Robin Hood stories was revived thanks to the publication of Sir Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe (1819) and Howard Pyle’s The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood (1883). Marian does not appear in Ivanhoe and is mentioned only once in Pyle’s book, and is effectively written out of the story entirely. 

Despite this, we see other novels and stories released as Robin Hood grows in popularity, and here is where we begin to see the idea of a damsel in distress begin to gain traction. As is true in every retelling of Robin Hood, the story changed to suit its audience and to suit the ideas of contemporary society and intended audience. 

Victorian literature is full of interesting and lesser known works of Robin Hood, as a result of a Victorian obsession with medievalism and with Robin Hood. Maid Marian and Robin Hood: A Romance of Old Sherwood (1892) by J.E. Muddock features a very distressed Marian who does need rescued and has very little agency. Other Victorian works take a similar tone and cast Marian as a damsel, but this is not the narrative that ultimately survives this period of Robin Hood resurgence. 

Thomas Love Peacock published a novella simply titled Maid Marian (1822). Interesting to note, because Robin only appears briefly as a supporting character in Ivanhoe, this is actually the first true Robin Hood novel as a story by itself. Here we see an active, and independent Marian, evocative of Child Ballad 150.

‘Well, father,’ added Matilda, ‘I must go into the woods.’

‘Must you?’ said the Baron, ‘I say you must not.’

‘But I am going,’ said Matilda.

‘But I will have up the drawbridge,’ said the baron.

‘But I will swim the moat,’ said Matilda.

‘But I will secure the gates,’ said the baron.

‘But I will leap from the battlement,’ said Matilda.

‘But I will lock you in an upper chamber,’ said the baron.

‘But I will shred the tapestry,’ said Matilda, ‘and let myself down.’

- Thomas Love Peacock, Maid Marian (1822)

Matilda does indeed go to the woods, takes on the name Maid Marian, and rules the forest with Robin Hood. Other Victorian works take a similar approach to Marian and show her as involved and capable including Maid Marian, or the Forest Queen (1849) by Joaquim Stocqueler, which follows a more traditional Robin Hood storyline filled with adventures and danger.

Later classic works include an active Marian as a member of the outlaw band, as well. Roger Lancelyn Green (1956), Charles E. Vivian (1927), and Paul Creswick (1917) all write a Marian who speaks for herself and works with the outlaws, often dressed as a man. 

Hollywood enters the scene of Robin Hood retellings as early as 1908, but the oldest surviving Robin Hood film is Douglas Fairbanks’ Robin Hood (1922). This silent movie, groundbreaking in budget and sets, features Marian (played by Enid Bennet) as a strong character who holds her own throughout the film. After this, we see another groundbreaking film, The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) starring Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland. This film is widely thought to be the gold standard of Robin Hood films, and I am definitely in that camp. Marian has more agency in this movie, and the lovely Olivia plays a rather coy noblewoman. While we don’t see her taking up a sword in this film, we see her developing the plan that ultimately rescues Robin from the hangman’s noose, successfully warning Robin and his men of Prince John’s plans, and standing her ground while on trial and defending her ideals. Yes, she is rescued from prison in the climax of the movie, but she also plays a vital role in rescuing Robin earlier in the story.

Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991) begins with a woman of action, but at the end sees Marian rather helplessly forced into a marriage and moments away from being sexually assaulted when Robin literally catapults himself through the window to save her. 20 years later in Robin Hood (2010) Cate Blanchett’s Marian is fully capable in combat and is shown to be a responsible and dedicated lady of Loxley, working the fields and caring for her home.

Meanwhile in a contemporary TV adaptation, Marian is depicted as a Robin Hood figure herself, known as the Nightwatchman. (2006, BBC’s Robin Hood) Although the writers later did a disservice by (unpopularly) killing her character as a season finale, Marian was still depicted as competent and in charge of her own choices and actions, and in fact rescues herself from an unwanted marriage. 

Contemporary Robin Hood literature also features an active Marian. Jennifer Roberson’s Lady of the Forest (1995) and Lady of Sherwood (1999) present Marian as a noblewoman who, over the course of the text, takes control of her own story in her capacity as a member of gentry, Lauren Johnson’s The Arrow of Sherwood (2013) sees an incredibly historically inclined retelling of the Robin Hood story, and includes a dedicated and politically savvy Marian. She doesn’t run into the forest, but makes a real difference through her smart decisions and political manipulation. Robin McKinely’s The Outlaws of Sherwood features Marian as an excellent archer, better than Robin, and she easily slips in and out of the outlaw camp as needed, is skilled in woodscraft, and is a valued and substantial member of the outlaw group. Honestly, I think it would be difficult to find a literary retelling that doesn’t include an active Marian character. 

So where do our ideas of Marian as a damsel in distress ultimately come from? I have a few theories.

First, we see the archetype of damsels in distress throughout other fairy tales and folklore, so it’s tempting to assume that Marian is the same and portray her as such, and there are examples of her character playing that role either in whole, or for part of the narrative.

There are unfair assumptions made about medieval women in general, that ignore the powerful positions women could hold, and the amazing things that women did during this period. When people picture medieval women, they are often embroidering tapestries, being forced into unwanted marriages, being beaten by their husbands, and dying in childbirth. There is truth in stereotypes, but there’s also room for deeper understanding of the historical context, and a wider story to be told that includes women standing up for themselves and exercising their own strength and skills. (It’s not good feminism to overwrite real women’s history.)  

We see this stereotype most often in movies and TV adaptations, which are highly visible and memorable, cementing ideas about the Robin Hood legend (and Marian) in the general psyche. 

Children’s picture books, perhaps one of the first introductions a person might have to Robin Hood, tend to play out the story like a traditional fairy tale and Marian is again likely found in an upper tower, calling for help. 

Some find it demeaning for Marian to ever require saving, or to be saved by anyone other than herself. I feel differently about this. People rely on other people, and it’s not inherently weak to ask for support from someone, especially from a romantic partner. The story of Robin Hood is good fun, but it’s also full of danger and peril. It’s not surprising that various characters need to be rescued by friends and lovers throughout various tales. Robin Hood, Little John, Will Stutely, Sir Richard of the Lea, Alan A Dale’s bride, and yes, Maid Marian. All of these characters have stories where they require smart and daring rescues, and they’re exciting stories! Because Alan’s bride and Marian are women, this does not exempt them from the support of their male friends. They deserve to have someone watching their back. I am not offended by Marian needing help; it’s not only human, it’s a staple for a multitude of characters in Robin Hood lore.

As with much of media, Marian is the single female in what’s otherwise mostly a boys’ club. She has been the single point of reference in this story for women for centuries. I find that incredible. She was my favorite character as a child because she was the only woman, the only person I could potentially see myself in. With a global story such as Robin Hood, that’s not an insignificant role. No matter what her part may be in any given retelling, there are pieces of women from centuries long past and not so distant. I find that fascinating, worth respecting, and that’s why she’s my favorite character to this day.

tldr: Drink your respect Maid Marian juice.

#maid marian #robin hood #long post #my gang to me 2021

[farfromsugafanfic]

Sutures - Chapter Two: Conjugate

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): invasions of privacy

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

Notes: This was originally written and completed on Wattpad between 2018 and the beginning of 2020. I’ll be slowly posting the chapters here. I may make a tag list depending on if enough people want to follow along with updates. Leave me some feedback if you would like added to a tag list.

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You sighed as the nurse pulled the IV out of your arm. The muscles in your body relaxing for the first time in hours.

"There we are," the nurse said. "Looks like you'll be out of here in a few hours. Just make sure not to get too far from that man of yours."

You smiled up at her, not wanting to explain that he wasn't your man and that you'd only just learned his name from a news broadcast a few hours ago. When Eunji had texted you that he was an idol, you'd thought she was joking. She was drunk after all and probably would've called any guy flirting with you an idol.

"This is crazy," Eunji said. "What're you going to do?"

"I don't know," you said. "I guess I'll have to contact him somehow."

"Did you get his number?"

"No, we never intended to see each other again."

"Well, he's looking for you."

---

"Jang Sumi?" a man asked, knocking politely as he entered.

"Yes?"

He bowed politely as he entered.

"I'm Bang Sihyuk, CEO of BigHit Entertainment," he said.

Your eyes grew wide and you immediately bowed, feeling slightly embarrassed you hadn't recognized him and done so before.

"We would like to discuss a proposal with you. If you'd please sit down," he said, pointing to the newly made hospital bed.

You sat down and the man sat down in the chair Eunji sat when you first awoke. "We have reason to believe you are Min Yoongi's soulmate. I'm sure the doctors have already explained that this means the two of you must remain near each other."

You nodded.

"In order to protect his career, we would like you to move into the BTS dorm. We will pay you and compensate you for any trouble."

"What about my career?" you asked.

The man nodded, his shoulders relaxing as if he'd expected you to question him.

"We've done our research and you're an English tutor? You can continue online sessions and do occasional in-person sessions away from the dorm. We don't want to take away your livelihood by any means. We want to protect both of you."

Your mind overflowed with thoughts. You'd be living with seven guys. Seven idols. Would girls get jealous? Would their fans even know? You had too many questions for the man to possibly answer.

You could certainly use the extra money and without having to pay rent, it would allow you to begin saving money. Something you'd wanted since you'd moved out.

You'd have to work less though, but you were sure the compensation that BigHit offered would be more than enough to make up for the fewer hours.

"All right," you said. "As long as I can keep my job, I agree."

---

"Boys, this is Jang Sumi," Bang PD said.

You bowed to the seven boys in front of you, secretly wishing the much more charming Eunji hadn't gone home. Even though it was obvious they had rushed to the hospital based on the various array of sweatpants and messy hair, they all still looked gorgeous.

The boys bowed back and their gazes wandered down to your neck, their eyes wide. You hadn't noticed the bruises there from the night before. You shyly broke eye contact and looked over to Yoongi who sat with his feet dangling off the hospital bed.

You met his dark eyes. Instead of the mysterious and hungry look they'd held the night before, they now looked exhausted and slightly annoyed. His gaze left yours momentarily as his eyes looked down at the bruises on your neck. His face remained expressionless except for a small flick of his tongue between his lips.

"The doctors need to run a few more tests and talk with Yoongi and Sumi," Bang PD said. "We should leave them alone"

The six other boys filed out of the room and you took a seat on the bed next to Yoongi, leaving a large space between you, so that it would be nearly impossible to accidentally brush against one another.

"Hi," you said. "So, it's been an interesting day, huh?"

The boy didn't respond and before you could make more futile attempts to fill the silence two doctors walked into the room.

"Min Yoongi and Jang Sumi?"

You both nodded and bowed.

"All right, I know this is all a bit overwhelming right now, but once we all discuss and decide on the various options, I'm sure you'll feel better." The doctor flipped a few pages on his clipboard before looking back up at you. "So, as you both know, this is still a fairly rare condition. Finding one's soulmate and having it cause heart attack like symptoms is not well understood. Due to this, we request at least monthly check-ups for at least the first year for both of you to ensure your heart is okay and to check your overall health. The rest depends on how the two of you choose to proceed. Are you two currently in a relationship?"

"No," you both answered.

The doctor nodded.

"The easiest and best way to proceed is to attempt a relationship. While it might be awkward at first, for your overall general health, it will be the best way to adjust and will allow the withdrawals to be less frequent and violent in the future. If--"

"No," Yoongi said. "We can't do a relationship."

"What do you mean?" you asked, your head whipping around to face him. The last thing you wanted was to be in a relationship with a man you barely knew, especially the day after you'd officially ended it with your ex. But if the doctors said it was the best way to deal with the situation, you were inclined to listen.

"It's for both of our own good," he said. "You have no idea what a relationship with an idol would be like."

"Well, there are other options," the doctor said, glancing between the two of you. "If you truly don't want to be together, we can work on trying to weaken or even sever the connection between you. It is rare and difficult to do, but it has been achieved. You will have to stay in the same building as the other person most of the time. There do seem to be some exceptions such as work or situations where the other absolutely can't be present. However, at first, these withdrawals will be powerful and you may not be able to leave the building without the other person at all. For the first week, we suggest not doing so.

"In order to attempt to sever the connection, we will have to monitor your mental health and work to keep the relationship on track. While you don't have to remain distant from each other, it is important to not have feelings for each other, or else it will not work. You will have monthly or bi-weekly appointments with a psychiatrist who is trained to work with cases like this.

"You will also experience something we like to call urges. These are instances of extreme attraction to one another. It will be extremely difficult to be apart from each other during these times. It is important that you be together in these times, but if you are choosing not to pursue a relationship, you must do your best to resist the attraction."

After the doctor was done explaining everything and had recorded your decision to attempt and sever the connection, they drew blood from both of you and allowed you to leave.

---

You'd spent the rest of the day packing. Your things were going to be confined mostly to one room, meaning you had to downsize and choose what was most important to you.

You heard a knock on the door and before you could answer it, it was already open and Eunji and the entirety of BTS came through your door.

"Sorry if I scared you," Eunji said. "I let them in."

"Sumi," the tallest one said. He was the leader, Kim Namjoon, according to Google. You figured you should at least try to learn your new roommates. He introduced himself and the rest of the boys, other than Yoongi. "We decided to help you pack up before the movers get here. I'm sure it's quite overwhelming to have to move all of a sudden."

"Yes," you said. "This is very sweet. I guess, um, you could help clean up a bit? I haven't had a chance to clean the kitchen since I got home. And, maybe someone else wouldn't mind getting dinner?"

"No problem," Namjoon said, motioning to the members.

"I'll be in my bedroom if you have any questions or need me for anything."

Eunji was already bonding with the younger members of the band and showed them where all of the cleaning supplies were kept. You smiled at her ability to make friends quickly and headed back to your bedroom.

Your suitcase laid open on your bed as you sorted through your clothes, trying to decide what to keep. You'd already packed the essentials, the rest of your closet spread out around the suitcase.

You felt something soft beneath your foot. You bent down and picked up the fabric, recognizing it as the dress you'd worn out the night before. You hated to leave it behind it, but you weren't sure you would need such a nice dress again. And if you did, you could just borrow one of Eunji's. You folded the dress and were attempting to make a decision when a knock sounded on your door.

"Come in."

The door opened and Yoongi walked in. He wore a beanie, a sweatshirt, and a pair of jeans. You almost liked the more casual look on him more than the slightly more dressed up look he'd worn when you first met. You weren't sure if you truly liked it better or if it was just the connection between you talking.

"Sorry to intrude," he said. "I was just wondering if you needed any more help? The rest of the boys pretty much have it handled out there."

You tried to put aside the resentment you felt for the boy from earlier in the day when he so bluntly decided not to follow the best option and try the relationship.

"You can pack up my knitting stuff," you said pointing over to your desk in the corner where you kept yarn, knitting needles, and the various guides. "Just be careful not to tangle the different yarns together."

He nodded and grabbed an empty box and carefully placing each skein in the box. You turned back to the dress in your hands. You fingered the soft fabric and sighed as you went to set aside. Before you could set the dress with the rest of your discarded clothes, you felt a hand take it from you. You looked up at Yoongi, who held the dress and placed it into the suitcase.

"It looks good on you."

---

"You like to knit?" Yoongi asked, a few minutes later.

"Yeah," you said. "It calms me down when I'm stressed."

He nodded as he placed the rest of the items from the desk into the box.

"Sumi!" someone called from the hallway.

"What do you want us to do with this?" one of the boys asked, you believed his name was Jimin, followed by a blond-haired boy, Taehyung. Jimin dangled your stuffed cat in the air, a smirk across his face.

"Hey!" you said. "Don't hold Kitty that way!"

The boy laughed as you snatched the stuffed animal from him. One of Kitty's button eyes was loose and dangled slightly, causing her eyes to look uneven.

"You named it Kitty?" Jimin asked laughing.

Eunji came into the room. She seemed slightly annoyed with the two boys who had run off from their duties.

"I was four!" you said, looking down at the stuffed cat. "Besides, it's an English name!"

"All right, all right," Jimin said, relenting his taunts. "Do you want to take Kitty or not?"

You made eye contact with Eunji who's eyes were wide. She knew what Kitty meant to you, but Kitty was also falling apart. Her eye was the least of her trouble, you'd sewed the majority of her seams back together multiple times. You didn't want to risk Kitty getting lost or falling apart altogether. You knew it was time to let her go.

"She is pretty old and I'm getting too old for toys anyway. Um, I guess put her in with the donation pile." You handed the stuffed animal back to Jimin who took it and hesitantly walked from the room.

You felt tears pricking at your eyes, but you held them back and went back to sorting through your clothes. The task felt harder all of a sudden, but eventually, you finished, zipping up the suitcase.

---

It was late by the time you arrived at the dorm. It was huge, the biggest apartment you'd ever seen. It was surprisingly clean for being inhabited by seven boys, but you figured they were just too busy to cause much of a mess.

The extra bedroom they'd been using as storage was already clear for you. You made your bed and then opened your suitcase and began emptying it into the dresser.

"Need some help?" Namjoon asked, standing in the doorway.

You smiled at the boy as he began sorting your clothes, making it easier for you to put away.

"Thank you," you said. "I'm exhausted and I'm honestly dreading the rest of the boxes getting here tomorrow."

He nodded.

"We've moved a lot," he said. "Sometimes I feel more tired after moving than dance practice."

You both laughed lightly.

"They told me you're an English tutor?"

"Yeah," you said.

"It'll be nice having someone else who can speak English."

"None of the other boys can?"

He shook his head.

"No, they all understand a little. But none of them are fluent."

"We'll have to change that then," you said, laughing.

"How'd you learn it?"

"My mom grew up in the US. Her parents were from here but moved to the US when my mom was a baby. She met my dad when she was here visiting family and she ended up moving when they got married. So, I grew up speaking both Korean and English. My parents recently moved to the US actually, to be closer to my grandparents."

"Wow," he said. "That's a better story than mine. I just watched Friends."

You laughed.

"That's more impressive though. You taught yourself. I kind of just learned it the same time I learned Korean."

You felt some of the nerves you'd felt coming into the dorm beginning to leave you. While you were sure it would talk longer for you to adjust, the boys had all tried to be as helpful and welcoming as possible. Even Yoongi. Despite the fact he'd barely talked to you, he still helped pack up your apartment.

"Sumi," you heard another voice say. You turned around and saw Yoongi standing in the doorway, his eyes focused on his phone. "We have a problem."

"What?" you asked, your eyebrows knitting together.

"Someone found your shoes."

"My shoes? You mean, the ones I left at the bar last night?"

Yoongi nodded.

"Someone is selling them online. They're using the connection to me to get attention. The bidding ends tomorrow."

You grabbed onto the dresser and tried to steady yourself. You'd expected something like this to happen eventually, but just twenty four hours after you'd even met Min Yoongi?

You heard Namjoon say something to Yoongi, but you didn't catch what it was. You felt a hand on your shoulder and saw the leader looking straight at you.

"We're going to get this figured out."

All you could do was nod.

#bts #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #bts fan fiction #farfromsuga #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts imagines #btsfanfic #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi #min yoongi #suga #suga fan fiction #suga fanfic #bts yoongi #bts soulmate au #yoongi soulmate au #bts suga #bangtan fanfic #bangtan

[ladyeliot]

All of me. Chapter One [B.B.]

When she met him masterlist

Prologue

Pairing: Winter soldier x Female Reader [Michelle]

Summary: In May 1954 two parallel worlds were to meet in Berlin. On the one hand yours, completely chaotic, on the other that of the Winter Soldier.

Warnings: Angst. Toxic relationship. Mind control. Winter Soldier.

Word count: 3075

A/N:  Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

West Berlin. May 1954

The mirror showed a reflection you hadn’t stopped to contemplate in a long time. Rosy cheeks offered life and warmth to a pale face that seemed to have been forgotten. Your skin was smooth and the colour of porcelain, showing the youth that had just begun. Your eyes were highlighted by a greyish iris, which seemed to be complemented by blue drops, but as pale as your complexion. Your golden hair was tied back behind your face, but even so, a few strands stood up in rebellion, sliding down your forehead.

You moved closer to that imposing mirror, which was perched on the chest of drawers in that hotel room. It was then that you could see on your lips that the reddish lipstick had been fixed to perfection, offering a speck of colour to that ensemble that you formed in your totality. Your attention was diverted to the melody coming from the phonograph’s horn, however you could notice the presence of a person behind you reflected in the mirror itself. Those vermilion lips showed a smile, as the warmth of the male body pressed against your back. 

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” the whisper overpowered the music. “Tonight every man in the universe will know how lucky I am.”

A blush came over you, causing you to look away from his face through the mirror and lower your gaze, still smiling. It had been a few months since you had left behind everything you had known in your nineteen years, venturing out to suffer the indifference and rejection that the unknown future could bring. Your life in New York was a past that counterbalanced the pain and happiness of your younger years, but it did not offer you all that your inner self demanded, until he came along. Richard was a young British man of beauty, wit and chance, who had made a fortune in the tobacco world after the end of the Second World War. So you could say that it didn’t take long for you to notice him and for him to want you among his various properties. It was an accumulation of promises that entered your mind and led you to follow him to Europe without questioning their veracity, accepting the consequences that this meant for a young woman of your position in a world run by and for men. 

It had been many years since you 

had had a male figure to support or guide your decisions, as well as your purpose in life. The loss of your father during the Second World War made you acquire a mind of your own and make decisions of your own, which mostly used to be accepted by your sweet mother, but which in this case did not find a place in the audacity of your friends and family. Those who knew you thought that your judgement had been clouded or that you had only lost your mind because of your love for that gentleman.

Richard had made his appearance in New York City just a few months earlier. Your fates crossed in the New York night, during the presentation of a new Walker Motors Corporation internal combustion engine at the Edison Hotel, a milestone in the market. Richard was an external guest, invited by one of the company’s own partners, but you were invited by the leading eminence. It is worth noting that Charles Walker, director of WMC, has been friends with you since your childhood, which is why you attended the private party. However, it was not until midnight that Charles himself took it upon himself to introduce you, alluding that Richard had shown an exclusive interest in meeting you.

“Where is your mind?” Richard’s lips brushed your right earlobe.

His fingers rested on your neck and brushed aside a slight lock that fell across your collarbone to rest his lips on it. All the while you watched each of his movements in the mirror.

“I don’t want your mind to go elsewhere if I’m not in your thoughts,” that whisper sent a shudder around your body, as Richard’s lips continued to trail firmly down your neck.

You had been extremely decisive in agreeing to give yourself to a man you barely knew, or had any testimony about his past. But your mind was so dazzled by the hopes you had placed on him and his oaths that you had barely been able to consider the fact that something could go wrong.

The kissing stopped, which caused you to open your eyes again to find your own reflection. Richard turned away from your body for a moment to look inside his jacket. After a few seconds he pulled out a greenish rectangular box, which he opened without letting you see what was inside.

“Close your eyes,” the young man asked softly in your ear.

With little opposition you acted as he had instructed. A tingle tingled around your neck, which brought a subtle smile to your lips as you waited for Richard’s command to open your eyes again. However, it wasn’t until after he placed a brief kiss on your bare shoulder that you decided on your own to contemplate the object resting on your collarbones. Your lips parted in surprise, as an array of pearls lay upon you, illuminating practically the entire room. Your fingers slowly brushed each one of them, you hardly knew what to say, the only thing that came to your mind was the questioning of why about that detail.

“Tonight you will shine over the whole world,” Richard’s hands rested on your hips. “There won’t be anyone in Berlin, east or west, who doesn’t know who Michelle Wells is.”

You offered him a blushing smile as you stared at your figures in front of the mirror, those words giving you the encouragement you needed to face the performance that was to take place in a few hours.

Your ability on stage had been recognised in various clubs in New York, but you knew that the audience that night could not compare to the one you had had before. New York had been the pinnacle of jazz, and Harlem had been a favourite neighbourhood of its own creation, yet it was a far cry from anything you were used to.

A slight sigh came out of your mouth, showing the presence of your nervousness in such a situation. It was an unavoidable fact of life that you were thousands of miles away from your hometown, and even if you had made yourself think that you and Richard would find your own home, you couldn’t help but feel incomplete.

“Take everything out of your mind, leave it blank and just focus on you from this moment on,” the breath collided with your ear, creating a brief shiver down your spine. “Forget everything you have lived through, and all the people. You are the creator of your own destiny, and no one can stand in the way of that. Tonight may be the most important moment for your future. For our future.”

In that instant you turned around so that you could look directly into his eyes, those that depending on the light could appear blue or green. Under the dimness of the lamp the greenish hue could be found in them, but you barely noticed it because their proximity was cut short when he said those words, melting into a slow, passionate kiss before he left for the club.

Meanwhile, in East Berlin

A whitish light flickered faintly above him with each step down the long corridor. The silence was broken by the flickering tinkle and the sordid screams in the distance. The place felt like hell itself. However, if it really was hell, it was not as he had imagined it to be. The mist was pouring out of his nostrils with every exhalation, the cold was bordering on extreme. Yet he was unable to feel it in every part of his body. His gaze was impassive, as his ice-cold eyes seemed to be held in a sea of darkness. The road came to an end as the stiff iron gate cut him off. His footsteps slowed but did not stop, as a dull echo reported the opening of the gate, offering entrance to a new area.

The walls, as sturdy as the material of construction, stone, offered not a hint of light, for there were hardly any openings in them. The place had the characteristics of an underground bunker, with only a musty smell coming from the ceiling. His figure continued his march along the corridor, with a firm and decisive step, knowing where he was going. At that instant, a silhouette loomed on the right side, guarding a new entrance. That silhouette, noticing the presence that was heading towards him, moved away from in front of the door, opening the way for the man, who stopped in front of it until it opened.

“Oh, we’ve been expecting you, soldier,” said a German-accented voice from inside the room.

Unlike the corridor, there was a pleasant warmth in that room for anyone. However, he was no longer a person. The door closed behind him, preventing him from leaving, for he would have to face the four figures sitting at an oval table. One of them rose from his seat and slowly approached him with his hands behind his back, until they were facing each other.

“I believe the orders you have been given are clear soldier,” he observed curiously squinting at the young man. “Do you have any doubts?”

“No, sir,” a coldness crept into his voice from inside his throat, it seemed as if he had spent the last few months barely expressing a sound through it.

“That’s the way I like it,” that statement came along with an encouraging look from every part of the young soldier. “Kerkove will be in charge of taking you to the west side of Berlin. There you know what you have to do.”

The soldier merely nodded, processing all the data that had been offered to him hours before. The door opened again to let him out, just as he had entered, and the person in charge of his mission stood there. Over the past months he had carried out a number of other missions on the eastern front, but this was the first time he would be infiltrating the western zone, covered by American and British soldiers, which is why he was wearing an American infantry uniform, similar to that of his companion.

As he arrived outside, he realised that the night was clear, as the moon was in full bloom, a fact that could hinder the key points of the mission. Even so, he had to concentrate, since his first test would be the moment he wanted to cross the border, for although he was in the uniform of the American army, he had to pass himself off as one of them.

Fifteen and a half kilometres was the distance to be covered by car, before walking three kilometres to the point in question. The quietness fell upon him, sharing a constant blank stare, and with nothing else in his thoughts but each and every step to be taken that night. There were hardly any words between the two of them, until the moment they parted, as his companion informed him that they would meet again after four hours at the rendezvous point to carry out their extraction.

The ease with which he found himself in West Berlin in five minutes seemed absurd in the face of so much apparent control over the population itself. The tranquillity received on the other side of the wall caused a rupture in the new area, a commotion was generated as he walked towards the more central streets, entering the Berlin night. The movement of pedestrians and cars caused him to slow his steps, remembering his sense of mission ‘To blend in without being discovered’.

The streetlights illuminated the roads and the power of those lights fell on his face, generating a sense of uneasiness in the face of his own passivity. Groups of uniformed men walked along, mingling with the local population. He was curious as to where they were going, for the premises of the busy main street invited him to enter them. Those five soldiers in British uniforms, which he could distinguish by colours and badges, made their way to the pavement in front of him and then entered a place called 'Central Club’.

After looking around, he could not think of a better situation than to take the same path and thus discover their frequent activities. With the proximity to the place, he noticed the melody that could be heard behind the door, which became more and more noticeable after opening it. An unfamiliar smell hit his face as he stepped inside. Warm brown tones met his gaze as did long descending staircases. Hesitantly he descended each step, incorporating the smell of aniseed liqueur into his senses as the notes coming from those instruments became more constant. A greenish curtain gave way to the hall, which was unexpectedly packed with people. Its tables were completely crowded and the noise mixed with the melody hardly let him think in those moments. He looked around as a boy bumped into him trying to get in. His gaze fell on the bar on the right-hand side, intending to sit down and take in the area at his leisure. Nearby he could find an empty stool catching the attention of the bartender himself.

"What will you have?” he asked as he wiped a glass of champagne between his hands “Is this your first time at the Central Club?”

The soldier nodded, half-opening his lips, for he had scarcely noticed his presence.

“Then you must try our special aniseed and ginger cocktail,” the waiter began to serve him after watching the boy nod. “I suppose you’ve come for her, haven’t you? We haven’t had the club this full since before the war, she’s a real gem, I envy the man who gets her.”

The soldier paid little attention to his words, but nodded at every comment he offered, for he had not yet been able to adjust to the atmosphere generated by the crowd. Music was still playing on the circular wooden stage in the background. A band was providing entertainment, showing off their merits with a piano, drums, bass and saxophone. However, due to the noise it was impossible to hear them.

He took the glass that the man had prepared for him a few minutes ago and brought it to his lips, making his throat burn with every drop that fell through it. His senses were amplified and the warmth was rising from within him. She turned to the man behind the bar to inform him to refill the glass, for if he was to blend in he hoped to do so as everyone else in the place did.

The music stopped and male words came from the stage. The soldier barely noticed. However, the deafening noise of applause and cheers made him look towards the back of the room. A female figure appeared as if out of nowhere before his very eyes. After she came on stage, silence fell, reminding him of peace. The spotlights created an aura of divinity around the young woman that abstracted any of his own thoughts as soon as he beheld her. Her crimson lips could be glimpsed from every corner of the club, making the blood burn under those uniforms.

Time had stood still for a few moments, for the slowness with which such an event unfolded before his eyes was apparent. The girl slowly brought her fingers around the microphone to bring it closer to her mouth, as she set the rhythm by snapping her fingers to the melody of the bass. That was the moment when the soldier became a man, his reasoning engaged in a constant struggle against his experience. That voice had taken over his thoughts and was the only thing he could hear inside him. The melody had awakened a sliver of his memories, but he had not yet realised that fact. The hole of darkness that made him up had found a flame to illuminate it. 

“All of me

Why not take all of me?

Can’t you see?

I’m no good without you”

His muscles had relaxed as the minutes passed. His lips were parted and his eyes were completely lost in hers. For an instant he thought he could feel their paths meet, holding her gaze, a fact that generated a throbbing in his heart that he did not seem to possess. In a subtle blink of an eye, barely noticing it, the girl finished her song and lost his vision as everyone in the room rose to their feet to applaud her, but he did not. He preferred to keep his gaze lost trying to glimpse what had just happened in those moments, as his mission became present in him again.

“It’s a wonder,” the bartender interjected.  "A woman with a voice like that can’t possibly go unnoticed. I think I could listen to her for the rest of my life, and watch her too. You know what I mean.“

The soldier just sipped the last of the liquor in his glass and turned his attention back to the group of men in British uniforms who had led him there. They seemed to be in a hurry to leave again, so he took a note from his pocket and without looking back left it on the bar to follow them. From that moment on, his evening was based on analysing each of the places they frequented and the activities they carried out, making the odd brief conversation, and letting himself be seen in the area. He did not have a chance to think about the heady moment he had experienced until he returned to the bunker and was asked for all the information he had collected. However, although a new memory had settled in his mind, he was unable to express his encounter with you.

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes 40s #winter soldier x read #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldie x you #winter soldier 40s #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes #avengers x reader #bucky barnes au #au #prompts #drabbles #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #Hydra #hydra x winter soldier #avengers imagine #alternative universe

[aidemint]

Messenger - Zuko

Word Count: 3.2k !

Warnings: None!

Note: This is a plot I’ve been wanting to try for a while! For the sake of the story, Mai and Zuko broke up indefinitely. As much as I love them, I can’t have things get too “complicated.”

__

It started as an ordinary day. Perhaps one that began too well. I woke up to the sound of turtle-ducks quacking in a nearby pond as a colorful array of birds lined the canopy, chirping to the melody that the trees gave off when they shook in the light breeze. I yawned and rubbed my eyes with the backs of my hands as I woke up from my resting state underneath a large oak. Shaking my head a few times, I blinked and got my eyes to focus on my surroundings, and patted my side to make sure that my bag was still there. 

Ah, the familiar feel of leather and sturdy cloth.

After the reassurance, I took the time to stretch a bit before getting up to get ready for the day. The morning procedure was conventional -- extremely so. Brush your teeth, bathe, dry, then scavenge for some food. Berries or nuts weren’t exactly rare to come by anywhere, so it wasn’t hard to find a hearty meal. 

A day in the life of a messenger.

Humming as I stripped down, I discarded my clothes, shoving them into my messenger bag, then brought the satchel with me to the riverbed to decrease the risk of theft. The impact of my feet on the ground made the grass quiver and specks of dirt come flying into the air, tickling my soles and upper-ankles. When I finally set my belongings down, I sighed in content and watched as the surface of the stream glimmered, reflecting the sunlight. It certainly looked inviting.

Finally, it was time to bathe.

Shivering as I tip-toed into the cold water, I wrapped my arms around my chest and hoped I didn’t catch some sort of disease. I wasn’t used to such a different climate, as I’d normally opt for some hot springs when they were available, but I was in the valley and didn’t have the time nor the energy to make that trek all the way up the mountain.

I groaned and plunged shoulder-level into the river, feeling the running water push lightly against my figure. The sensation was surprisingly calming, considering that I was initially cringing at how frigid it was. As the edges of my lips upturned and my eyes fluttered shut, my body relaxed and I was able to enjoy the sweet empathy that nature provided me with.

After soaking for what felt like a few minutes, I heard a rustling in the bushes. Assuming that it was either some wayward badger skunk of platypus bear, I paid no attention to it until there came voices from that general direction.

“Zuko, I told you we shouldn’t have come this way. Privacy is a big thing around these parts.” There was an old man and his presumed nephew, wandering around the forest of oak trees and through a few bushes. I couldn’t get a clear view of the uncle, but I noticed a small clearing that the younger boy could step out into for me to peer at him. Hoping that he’d move according to plan, I craned my neck to get a glimpse at him.

“Privacy? In a valley? What, are we gonna run into a couple of naked mole rats?” Once the brunette emerged from his place hidden in the bunches of leaves and into an open spot, I got to recognizing him. My eyes widened and my lips parted, truly not expecting the company. Prince Zuko, the “traitorous” son of Fire Lord Ozai, was in Fengfu Valley, and I was right under his nose. It shocked me how little perception he had of his surroundings. Feeling the urge to laugh, I clamped a hand over my mouth to hide my presence and stooped lower into the water so my nose was right above the surface.

I couldn’t help but want to exploit his careless nature -- it seemed like it would be a lively addition to an otherwise boring morning.

Teasing him would be fun.

“I don’t appreciate being called a mole rat!” I watched on as Zuko shouted in surprise, then sent a bolt of fire my way. Narrowly avoiding it, I swam to the side and watched as the flame dissipated as soon as it reached the spot where I previously resided. Turning my head so I faced him, we locked gazes as I feigned offense.

“Seriously?” When the prince’s face morphed into one of surprise, I burst out laughing, almost getting swept away by the river at the effort. My howls ceased as I stumbled a bit and felt the rapids churn in an attempt to carry me down its bed, but I regained my footing and remained in my original place. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, I once again directed my attention to the brunette, who just stood with his hands clasped over his eyes. Snickering at the sight, I slipped to hide behind a bush as I dried myself and put on my clothes. Stepping out into the open once I was finished, I gave Iroh a small salute while walking towards the pair, which he returned with a fond grin.

“You should listen to your uncle more often, friend!” I exclaimed, stopping in front of the Prince with my bad slung across a shoulder, “Don’t come across mindful people in these parts very often. It’s mostly populated with bandits, so most are pretty wary.” Noticing the pair’s interesting Earth Kingdom getup, I raised my eyebrows, impressed with the guise. I didn’t have long to admire their getups, however, as Iroh took the initiative to start a conversation in the midst of my thinking. 

“Since we can’t avoid an interaction any longer, we might as well introduce ourselves. My name is Mushi, and this is my nephew Lee. We’re simple travelers, so it’s nice to meet a local from around these parts.” I nodded at him and smiled at Zuko, who still seemed a bit on edge from our unconventional introduction.

“I’m (Y/N). I work as a messenger for the international mailing system. I deliver letters to and from different nations, but I’m stationed in the Earth Kingdom most of the time, helping to run mail through the city, manually.” Iroh, or Mushi, nodded in understanding, 

“An honorable profession.” I smiled, then thanked him for his kindness. Glancing at “Lee,” I noticed that he didn’t seem very eager to respond, so I just left him alone and continued to talk to Iroh. 

“Well, Mushi,” I began, “Do you have a place to stay?” Iroh was quick to respond, but not without a sudden shift in his demeanor. His shoulders suddenly caved inwards and his eyebrows became furrowed, giving his face a worn, wrinkled look. 

“Unfortunately not. My nephew and I don’t have anywhere to go, either.” I bit back a smile at his overbearingly dejected tone and the sudden slump in his posture when trying to evoke some sense of pity from me. Covering my mouth with a hand, I sucked in a breath to calm down, coughing a bit to disguise my laughter. 

“W-Well,” I said, clearing my throat, “You can stay at my camp for the time being. I’ll show you the ropes, but you have to hunt your own food.” To my complete and utter surprise, Iroh’s posture and mood had suddenly improved upon hearing this. His eyes seemed to sparkle as a grateful grin spread across his face.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you for your offer.” I waved it off, then beckoned for the two to follow me to camp, where I had a tent set up and a couple of logs for a campfire. Though I didn’t have much, the former General’s reaction made me feel like some kind of saint for agreeing to take care of them out of common courtesy.

Perhaps his methods of persuasion had more of an influence on me than I originally thought.

__

Evening had come, and Zuko and I were currently out foraging for berries and nuts while Iroh was back at camp, tending to a fire in order to brew some tea and to hopefully get the pot hot enough to be able to cook the nuts. 

At the moment, the Prince and I had stumbled across an undergrowth that housed a variety of different bushes and trees, all filled with berries and fruits, respectively. The silence of nature overtook us as we worked to fill the baskets we carried with the bounty -- a sound that was familiar to me, but seemed to be uncomfortable for Zuko, so much so that he decided to pipe up for the first time today.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” I whipped my head around to face him with an amused expression. 

“You finally wanna talk, huh?” He sighed and rolled his eyes in the other direction, setting his basket down, but not knowing what to do with his hands. Curling them into fists, then letting go again, the cycle repeated for half a minute before he found the right sentence to say.

“I’m usually not this awkward, I promise,” he commented, rubbing the nape of his neck. I laughed, noticing the Prince’s bright red face, flushed from embarrassment. 

“I can tell,” I replied, digging into a bush and pocketing some wild blueberries, “So don’t worry too much about it. I don’t mind the silence -- I hear it all the time.” He stiffly nodded and picked up his basket again to collect some pears from a tree overhead.

“Thanks.” The world then went silent for a few minutes until Zuko spoke again, his voice more relaxed this time around. 

“And sorry about the naked mole rat thing. I didn’t really expect anyone to be there.” 

“Don’t sweat it. I wouldn’t expect a naked person to be in a river in the middle of a valley either.”

“Okay… thanks.” I chuckled quietly to myself, finding hilarity in how uncoordinated Zuko seemed to be in the realm of speaking. It was almost endearing. 

After a good twenty minutes had lapsed, it was safe to say that both of us had deserved a break. As I plopped down onto a moss-covered section of the floor, I patted the ground next to where I sat, motioning for Zuko to rest alongside me.

“Sit down with me, Lee.” He hesitated for a moment, but ended up sitting next to me anyways. While we rested, I admired the way the canopy of the forest blocked the sunlight, so that the rays would cast themselves in dappled patterns across the ground. Fluttering my eyelids shut, I took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, enjoying the forest’s energy and the rejuvenating effect it had on my spirit. As I opened my eyes to see the world again, I sighed in a mix of disappointment and appreciation. The tranquility was pleasurable, but always too brief.

I didn’t notice Zuko until I felt his hand nearing my bag, to which I responded to with a sudden pull away, not letting him even graze the satchel. He seemed alarmed by this, as his eyes immediately went dark and his body tensed up. Panicking as I noticed this, I tried to explain as quickly and as simplistically as possible. 

“People’s letters are in there,” I said, “I can’t let you touch them without a license. It’s illegal.” Zuko glowered at me. His eyes bore into mine, golden, glaring irises seeking the truth in the myriad of lies. He leaned in closer to me, his scowl deepening.

“There is no need for mailing by foot in the Earth Kingdom. They have their own postal service with the rock cart system.” I sucked in a sharp breath as I prayed that he wouldn’t connect the dots, as hopeless as my wish was. 

Zuko pointed at my bag. 

“Those aren’t really letters, are they?” The prince’s question challenged me, yet it was laced with so much hidden curiosity and an element of certainty pounded into each and every word. I sighed as I realized that the jig was up. I had to tell him the truth, or he might become unstable and try to pull something with me. Taking out the envelopes, I unwrapped them, then showed the Prince the contents inside. 

“You got me,” I admitted, handing Zuko the sheets of paper I held in my hand, “They’re not letters.” The brunette’s eyes scanned over the folio, gradually widening in disbelief. Once he was done reading, he handed the documents back to me and looked at me with such incredulity. 

“What are those papers?” he demanded, “They have the Fire Nation seal on them.” I shrugged indifferently while putting the sheets back into their envelopes.

“They’re stolen Fire Nation Official documents,” I responded casually. The Prince seemed so caught up in this order of business, while I admittedly did not want to continue this conversation for much longer. His infatuation irked me, but it was natural, given his background, so I had no other choice but to endure it.

“How did you even get them?” he demanded, “Who are you?” 

“I should be asking you the same question, Prince Zuko,” I snapped, not willing to take any more of his attitude. He looked taken aback yet flustered at the same time. I assumed that he didn’t realize that someone would recognize the guy with a very noticeable scar on his face. I scoffed at the thought.

“Do you really expect me not to know who you are, Mr. ‘Esteemed Prince of the Fire Nation?’” He grew increasingly bewildered, looking at me as if I had two horns growing out of my head, and as if he wasn’t the son of the most notorious tyrant in all the four nations. “Sure, most people in the Earth Kingdom have no clue who you guys are, but I might have a clue, you know? Given the documents and everything?” 

“But why… How did you even get these?” Zuko stammered, “This is classified information.”  

“I looted them from Fire Nation officers.”

“Why-” he began, “Why are you-” As he looked to me for some form of help, I motioned for him to continue thinking on his own. He furrowed his eyebrows and kept at it. A few moments later, something seemed to click inside his mind. 

“You’re…” Realization dawned on Zuko as his expression morphed into one of vulnerable understanding. “You’re part of the Resistance. Against the Fire Nation.”

“Bingo.” He furrowed his brows and brought a hand up to point at me following my confirmation.

“You’re the one responsible for the missing contract for the Huo act.”

“Yeah.”

“You stole a cart filled with bills that lowered the minimum age for recruited soldiers.”

“Mhm.”

“And the papers for Baron Hu Jiao’s coal mines.”

“Uh huh.”

“And you’re-”

“You’re making me sound like a saint here, Zuko,” I interrupted, chuckling, “I’m just doing what any normal person would do in the face of tyranny.” He paused, creased his eyebrows and slightly pursed his lips, then looked away, as if contemplating some serious matter. I cocked my head and laughed softly at the sight, entertained by the Prince’s reaction to my words. 

“You seem confused.” I turned to him. “Is there anything you want to ask me?” He huffed, contorting his face into an expression that was strangely reminiscent of one at a loss for words, though he spoke after my inquiry.

“Why did you even join the rebellion? Why would you risk your life for something so… so dangerous? So...” I felt a burning sensation in my chest as Zuko’s breath ran out before he could finish. He made no attempt at restating his two-word sentence, feeling as if it was best to just leave it there, as is. I sighed.

“Were you going to say futile?” Zuko scratched his head and nodded. I huffed.

“Why do people join the army, then? Just to die in trivial combat?” I challenged coyly, the edges of my lips curling into a smirk, “Why do people join task forces if they’re not worth fighting for?” 

“Because they’re forced to.” The prince’s tone was cold. His words were hardened by some experience I knew not of, and it was only then I realized that I had been wrong.

I folded my hands in my lap and spoke in a much quieter voice from there on.

“I apologize.” Zuko paused for a moment to recollect himself, taking a deep breath in and letting it gradually come out.

“It’s okay.” I smiled at his comment. 

“Do you want to hear more of my story? Of the resistance?” Zuko hummed.

“Okay.”

“I only knew of the Resistance from the propaganda that was set up in the middle of the Capitol. I’d see the faces of those men and women and wonder what they had done to earn their titles as ‘savages,’ ‘freaks of nature,’ and ‘traitors.’ I’d always ask about them. But I’d always never get an answer. 

“The first time I ever had personal contact with them was after my fathers perished in the army. I went through a lot of grief, in the early stages. I wouldn’t eat, I wouldn’t socialize, probably because of the trauma. When nobody wanted me, when the Fire Nation threatened to kick me out for not being a valuable citizen, they took me in. Treated me well, taught me a lot of things that I’d originally been brainwashed to ignore by propaganda. They gave me hope and a reason to live. It was more than I could ask for, at the time.

“And I realized what I wanted. I knew that I wanted out of this dystopian society so I rebelled against it. I stole papers and caused as much of a ruckus as I could, fueled by this opportunity for revenge. I wanted to tear the place down.” I laughed sadly at the thought.

“But, as you said, it’s futile. I can’t go against so many people. None of us can. The numbers have always been dwindling.” I looked down, at the forest floor, embarrassed to admit the notion. “But we try.” The soft sounds of crickets chirping in the grass were the only noises that could be heard when I finished talking. Zuko just sat there, seemingly dumbfounded by the information that was relayed to him.

“I-I’m sorry,” he spoke, awkwardly glancing at my face, trying to morph his features into an expression of comfort. I chuckled at his behavior.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” Quietness settled in the atmosphere once more after I uttered the last phrase. I tilted my head up at the sky and admired the blend of colors it had become. Lavender hues mixed with vermillion tints to create a wondrous sight to sit under and enjoy. 

Zuko and I sat together for what seemed like forever, simply enjoying each other’s company. 

After the purple and red sky had passed and the stratosphere held a darker red and orange coloration, I decided that it was best to haul ass and go back to camp based on how little day we had left. I offered a hand to Zuko, helped him stand up, and picked up my basket, preparing to go back to camp. The brunette did the same with his basket and started to follow me back. 

“Thank you for listening,” I suddenly said, turning to face him, “It’s been a long time since I could open up to someone like this. I really enjoyed this evening.” Zuko’s expression remained indifferent, but there seemed to be a new, small glitter within his irises. 

“Yeah.” The corners of his lips lifted just a bit. “I did too.”

#zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #iroh #lee #mushi #oneshot #imagine #xreader #x reader #katara #aang #sokka #ozai #kyoshi #prince zuko #fire nation #cabbage man #zuko x reader #zuko oneshots #zuko oneshot #zuko imagine #zuko please just let me hug you oh god pelaplseplpaelplsepsple #zuko imagines

[muwur]

If requests are open.. Suga x reader -3rd year student- where friends to pining where reader is a exchange student mid year -parent’s job- and reader is new to the school, can barely communicate Japanese and is too shy to meet new people.. reader is welcomed as a co-manager for vb club and all the other boys adopt her has their sister. She tutors them in their English lesson too.. also how would Suga help her open up from her shyness..

request: sugawara x fem! reader who is a shy exchange student!

another beginning.

✩ one-shot ✩ for sugawara bb

❧ fem reader

✎ 4.9k words

a/n: FINALLY GOT THIS BBY DONE, ty for being patient requester <3 i hope its ok, lmk if u would like smth different!

also curious but do yall listen to music when you write or read? i dnt always but when i DO i listen to some boppy music so i can shake mah ass (unles im depresso AHAHA) LMAO rec me some pls--

send me asks--

current listen: juicy by doja cat, gasolina by daddy yankee, 11 PM by maluma

A pencil dangled between two of your fingers, gently swinging back and forth as you tapped the eraser’s tip against your chin in thought. Looking over Hinata’s shoulder at the worksheet laying on the table, you extended your hand and made a neat scrawl on the page. “That’s good translating, Hinata! However,” you dragged your pencil across the surface, marking a line and arrow to point at a space near the beginning of his sentence, “keep in mind that although gerunds look like verbs, they act as nouns. So, this word should go here.”

Yachi, who was seated to your right, nodded in agreement. “I looked through his notes doodles, and it looked like they were going over gerunds in class!”

With narrowed eyes, Hinata scanned the page, muttering the sentence underneath his breath. Suddenly, his hazel eyes lit up in understanding and his lips morphed into a round “O.” “Ohhhh, that make a lot more sense! Thanks, (y/n), you’re a big help, especially in English! Also, look, guys!”

He rummaged through his cluttered backpack and fished out a slightly wrinkled sheet of paper with a red “14/50” marked on the top right corner. Holding it up proudly, he declared, “I got a better score than last time! By nine points!”

“That’s still an F,” Tsukishima pointed out, eyes glued to the pages of the book he was reading. Yamaguchi and Kageyama tried to stifle their snickers.

“Y-You’re not even looking!” Hinata defended. The ginger was met with a shrug. “I don’t need to see the score to know you failed.”

Before any fighting could break out, however, the door swung open, revealing the remaining third-years. Bags of snacks in their arms, the four of them stepped in. “We’re back! Your parent/guardian let us in, (y/n),” Sugawara announced, setting his bag down on the table. The rest followed suit and set the goodies down. Rummaging through one of the bags, Daichi pulled out a meat bun.

“Hinata, here’s your meat bun,” he said, handing the snack to the excited first-year, who had long-forgotten Tsukishima’s snide remark about his lack of intellectual aptitude. Kiyoko offered Kageyama his milk, the slight brush of their hands being enough to stir Noya and Tanaka into an envious craze. Asahi tried to settle them down, nervously reminding them that they needed to act respectful in your home, especially after your family had agreed to let you all study there. You stifled a giggle as Sugawara and Daichi joined in, scolding their underclassmen for their poor behavior and threatening them with a time-out.

With an exasperated sigh, Sugawara took a seat next to you on the mat. “Ah, I can’t help but worry about how Ennoshita’s going to handle both of them on his own.”

Giving a sidelong glance to the second-year, who was now forcing Noya and Tanaka to complete timed practice problems, your lips formed a small smile. “Looks like he does a pretty good job at it, though.”

Sugawara let out an amused huff. “Guess I’m worried over nothing. Oh, also,” he dug into the plastic bag in front of him, taking out your favorite snack and offering it to you. “Here you go.”

(can u tell from my stories yet that fav snacks aka actions are my love language--)

“Oh, thank you, Suga, I didn’t even ask for this…” you flashed him a grateful smile and took the package from his hands, suppressing the blush that threatened to overcome your cheeks as your fingertips brushed. He gave a sheepish smile and glanced to the side in response, giving the back of his neck an anxious rub.

“Ah, it’s the least I could do to thank you for letting us all come over to study. It’s really helpful. I appreciate it, (y/n).”

“It’s not much, really. I’m more than glad to help you all (read: Hinata, Kageyama, Tanaka, and Noya) out with English and offer my place. Having everyone together makes it easier. They need to pass these exams so you all get to play.”

Your offer to help the team with their studies may have seemed a simple gesture as both their friend and co-manager. On the inside, however, you really were more than happy to have everyone over for whatever reason. It left you with a feeling of awe. The last thing you would’ve expected 3 months ago was to be sitting in your new home in Japan, surrounded by a group of people who accepted you despite your poor Japanese and late appearance to Karasuno. Just 4 months ago, after you learned about your parent/guardian’s job transfer to Japan, you were left feeling an array of mixed feelings:

Anxiety – a whole new country? With a language you could barely even speak or understand? How was that going to work? Could you even make friends at school? God knows how long it took you to make the friends you have now.

Disappointment – you were looking forward to graduating high school with the friends you’ve made throughout the past few years. Having to say goodbye would be difficult, and you’d miss them.

Yet, you felt a sliver of hopefulness – new experiences were waiting for you. You had the opportunity to lead a new life in a foreign place. It filled you both with fear and exhilaration.

On the night before your first day at Karasuno, you could barely sleep after spending hours religiously practicing how to introduce yourself in Japanese. Having to introduce yourself to the class and speaking with your new classmates was inevitable, after all. And so the next day, you found yourself standing in front of the classroom, trying to suppress the nervous shudder that threatened to rack your body and ignore the prickles of sweat on your palms. Despite how much you mentally recited your introduction that morning, your current situation left your mind blank, unable to conjure any words. Fueled by the awkward silence, the numerous gazes focused on you, and the growing pit of anxiety in your stomach, what came out was a quiet, jumbled form of what you intended to say.

“Hello, (y/n) (l/n). I’m (insert your original country name here). I can’t Japanese, but I hope friends. Everyone, nice to meet,” you bowed, both in respect and so that you could hide your face, which was red from embarrassment. You knew you messed up, but you pretended otherwise, hoping that nobody would point out your mistake.

You straightened up after a few moments of silence, registering the confused looks of your new classmates and feeling another stab of shame. In response to your introduction, the teacher raised her eyebrows and blinked in confusion. Then her eyes warmed, and she offered you a smile as she spoke up. “Class, this is (l/n) (y/n). She recently moved here from (insert OG country here). She’s still learning Japanese; however, her English is perfect, so I’m sure you can all learn something from each other. Please make her feel welcome. Your seat is over there, (l/n).”

Shoulders sagging, you made your way to your desk, avoiding eye contact despite the pairs of eyes that followed you to your seat. Focusing on the lecture was a struggle. Not only could you barely understand anything the teacher was saying; worries about how the rest of the day would go also flooded your mind. This was only the morning; how could you navigate your way through the halls? Ask for directions? Would you meet people? Where would you eat lunch? How could you survive?

The remainder of the classes went by gruesomely slow. Too embarrassed from your slip this morning and too shy to meet new people despite wanting to make a friend, you successfully dodged conversation with any of your classmates. You were relieved that finally lunch came by, yet that presented another problem. You weren’t sure where to go, but you were sure that you were going to eat by yourself.

After a few minutes of walking around the hallways, you settled for eating lunch in the classroom. At least it meant you didn’t have to rush to class after the bell rang. Taking a seat, you pulled out your boxed lunch and set it out in front of you. Painfully aware of how alone you must have looked, you pretended to look really interested in your meal (am i the only one or--). You poked it, broke it into pieces, then brought each sliver to your mouth and chewed slowly. If only your family had switched your phone plans earlier, then you could at least spend time scrolling the internet or lament to your friends back home about how your day was going.

Still “engrossed” in your meal, you failed to notice a figure standing in front of your desk. Only after you saw a hand situate itself on the edge of your desk did you look up.

You met the chestnut eyes of a boy. He bore a warm smile that made a small crinkle in his eyes and beauty mark. Strands of grey hair draped naturally in front of his eyes and framed the sides of his face. Despite your unease, his soft features helped to calm your racing heart and mind. He seemed a friendly person; after all, he was able to approach you.

“Hey, you’re (l/n), right? I’m Sugawara Koushi, but you can call me Suga. I’m in your class,” he introduced in pretty darn good English.

‘Man, that means he heard me this morning…’ you thought miserably. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel some relief. Perhaps you hadn’t given others or yourself much of a chance before jumping to the conclusion that you were incapable of meeting new people.

Clearing your throat, you shyly extended a hand to him in greeting. “Yes, I’m (y/n) (l/n). Call me (y/n). It’s nice to meet you, Suga,” you replied hesitantly, finally using the correct words in Japanese that you had been practicing the previous night.

Shaking your hand, his eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Your Japanese sounds pretty good! You just moved, so you’re still learning, right? How about I help you improve that while you help me with English?”

You were about to nod eagerly in appreciation when you both overheard some snickering across the room. Two boys and a girl sat together, whispering quite loudly and sneaking oh-so-inconspicuous glances over at your desk. Taking notice that they were caught staring, they presumed to loudly munch on their meals and talk about the weather.

Suga only shot them annoyed glare and shook his head before turning his attention back to you. “Sorry, those are my… Friends.” The strain in his voice after saying that last word made you question if they really were on friendly terms.

After that day, you found yourself spending every lunch period with Suga and his other third-year friends Daichi, Asahi, and Shimizu. You initially felt unsure of how to talk to them, but after Sugawara’s efforts to include you in his circle and some reassuring words about being yourself and not letting a small, temporary language barrier hold you back from making friends, you earned a bit of confidence. While you spoke a hybrid of English and Japanese with them, you eventually managed to pick up a lot of Japanese from talking everyday, and after these few months of constant exposure, you were able to hold decent conversations. Additionally, the extra help you sought from the teaching staff allowed you to be able to keep up in class, and your instructors were understanding enough to give you some leniency on your assignments during this adjustment period.

Hanging around your new friends often, it was only a matter of time before you were introduced to the rest of Karasuno’s boys’ volleyball team. It occurred one lunch period three weeks after you first arrived, when Asahi suggested that you join some club activities. You were discouraged, however, considering that it was already halfway through the year, you didn’t know enough Japanese yet to converse with just anyone, and you were a tad shy, which made joining clubs a bit difficult. At that moment, your new friends all made eye contact with each other, then looked at you.

“Why not join our volleyball club?” Suga asked. “Shimizu could always use the help. She’s our only student manager.”

Shimizu nodded in agreement, her blue gaze soft. “Your help would be really appreciated. There’s a lot to this job, so having someone to split the work with would be relieving. You can also help me look for someone to take my place when we graduate.”

Later that day you found yourself in the gym being blocked by Sugawara, who was protecting you from two crazed boys whose collars were held back by Daichi. A ginger-haired boy looked at you with curiosity, excitedly introducing himself as Hinata and pointing out the names of the other members on the court (“This is ‘Bakageyama’ and that guy’s ‘Four-eyed Jerk Face’—").

Upon their release (which was granted only after they promised to behave), Tanaka and Noya dashed over to you, tears in their eyes as they held your hands and expressed their gratitude for your presence. “Oh, (y/n), you kind soul, helping Shimizu with the managerial work. Better yet, now we have two cute girls to support us, this is amazing!”

And that’s how you found yourself sitting with your new friends in your living room and feeling grateful for their vibrant personalities, kindness, and acceptance. You couldn’t have asked for a better batch of friends to end your year with. Though, you were most grateful to Sugawara. If not for him, the last several months of your highschool experience may have gone by miserably, with nothing special to note and no new friends to celebrate with. His gentle, understanding nature had done nothing but support you and make you feel welcome. He helped introduce you to a new, comfortable life you had trouble imagining before your arrival to Japan. He dispelled your doubts and fears, instilling in you a newfound confidence in your abilities. It certainly helped that the team was just as supportive and patient with you.

You could recount the events of the past few months that brought warmth to your heart. These people were growing on you, making you feel like you could be yourself more each day. Daichi provided you a sense of security and leadership. Asahi was empathetic, quick to detect your feelings of uneasiness and asking you if you were okay. Shimizu made sure to make you feel welcome as a friend and fellow manager, even inviting you to a café over the weekend to brainstorm ideas on recruiting a replacement (who you both later discovered to be Yachi) and try out some desserts. Tanaka and Noya tried to teach you all the Japanese curse words they knew, initially lying to you about their meanings so they could see the rest of the team’s reactions when you would blurt things out in the middle of practice (Let’s just say that Daichi, Suga, Ennoshita, and Tsukki knew whose fault this was, and Asahi was real shook hearing a string of curse words from your mouth while you sat there, no ill intent emanating from you whatsoever). Ennoshita gave you a comforting, easygoing presence. Tsukki was… Tsukki (LOL). But he could carry on a conversation, often genuinely interested whenever you talked about the culture back in (other country). And you knew he was soft. Hinata was a burst of energy, and you found his bickering with Tsukishima and Kageyama silly and quite precious. You often stayed with Yachi to toss balls to Kageyama late at night, much to his appreciation. Yachi and Yamaguchi were some of the biggest sweethearts on the team, and all you could think about was needing to protect them.

There was definitely something different in your interactions with Sugawara, though. You found yourself closest to him out of everyone. It may have been because he was the first you talked to, or maybe it was because he was one of the most easygoing people you’ve ever met. That, and you found yourself wanting to get closer to him. You wanted to know more about him.

Sugawara chuckled in response. “I suppose you’re right. We wouldn’t have made it this far without everyone,” he said softly, a tinge of fondness showing in his brown eyes. He proceeded to take out his schoolwork and pen, resting his chin in his palm as he read the words across the page of his assignment. Occasionally, you glanced over at him, admiring the way his eyebrows knit together in concentration, and how his hair brushed his cheeks whenever his head shifted in its position. How the grey tips of lashes kissed his bottom eyelids with each flutter of his chocolate hues. You even took a mental note that his lips, currently pursed in thought, were rather smooth and full in appearance.

A rogue thought about how those lips would feel against your own flitted across your mind. It brought a small pang to your chest, and you had to mentally slap yourself back into reality. You noticed these new feelings were starting to become more prevalent the longer you hung around Sugawara. You consulted your friends back home about it, and in their excitement, they insisted you had a crush on this guy (and demanded photos). Heart palpitations, heat-flooded cheeks, covert glances, and a desire for closeness in all aspects possible? All symptoms of infatuation, your personal love doctors concluded. You recalled when these signs first appeared about a month ago, after he offered to walk you home when practice had gone late into the night. Initially you declined, not wanting him to go out of his way when it was already dark outside. However, after seeing the soft look in his eyes as he declared he wanted to ensure you got home safely and that he didn’t mind the walk, your heart couldn’t help but give in and agree.

It was a tranquil night, accompanied only by the sound of crickets chirping and a cool, whispy breeze. About 15 minutes after having left campus, you were both seated on an aged bench at a small park, snacking on recent convenience store purchases to satisfy your growling stomachs. A comfortable silence settled in the air. The nightly surroundings were illuminated by the gentle glow of several nearby lampposts and stars that burned lightyears away.

Your gaze followed the tracks of a small bug crawling across the sidewalk in front of your feet. It skittered soundlessly against the pavement, eventually disappearing in the security of a bush. A gentle sigh took hold of your attention, and your eyes flickered over to your friend, who was peering up at the star-dusted evening sky.

“Do you know what you’re doing after graduation?” he asked, a hint of wonder in his voice.

You shook your head. “No clue, to be honest. You?”

He pursed his lips and took a sidelong glance at you before focusing back upwards. “Well, I’ve always wanted to be a teacher…”

“Seems fitting. Your Japanese lessons have been really helpful,” you pointed out, smiling.

The tips of his lips curved upwards as well. “Really? I’m glad. You’ve improved a lot, too. You’re a quick learner.”

“Heh, well I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Another comfortable silence fell upon you two before he spoke again. “I was thinking about how to keep in touch with everyone after we left, and how it’s a shame we’re leaving so soon after you arrived. I would’ve liked to know you better, too, but there’s only a few months left...”

His genuine words left a rosy tinge on your cheeks. As you were thinking of a response, you looked down, noticing how close your hand lay next to his. Heartrate quickening, you stammered, “Y-Yeah, I wish we had more time, too.. T-To hang around each other, I mean. But graduation doesn’t have to mean goodbye, right?”

“That’s true... You always know just what to say, you know that, (y/n)?” he turned his gaze on you and held out an extended pinky. “Promise to talk to me after graduating, then?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and huffed in amusement. Taking your own pinky and intertwining it with his, you nodded. “So long as you keep your end of the promise, too.”

“Of course.”

Sugawara’s voice brought you out of your momentary flashback. “(Y/n)? Can I ask you a question?”

Blinking your previous thoughts away and calming the warmth on your cheeks, you responded, “What’s up?”

He slid his assignment closer to you, pointing at a section he was having trouble with. “Here. I’m not sure if I’m doing this correctly..”

You leaned in, scooching towards him and closing in on the gap between you. Focused on the homework, you failed to notice how the brush of your shoulders made Sugawara’s body stiffen slightly. With your proximity, your scent easily wafted to his nose, and he could observe the closer details of your appearance. The hair tucked behind your ear exposed your cheekbone, looking soft to the touch. Your determined hues scanned the page, and he could visualize your thinking through your small, occasional self-nods. You looked cute and comfortable in the casual hoodie you wore, bringing him a strange, mixed sense of bashfulness and ease. His mind wandered, trying to envision how you would look if you wore any of his jackets, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of your sweet voice and scribbles against paper.

“It sounds great, Suga! I just made a note there on how you can fix it; otherwise, it should be okay,” you gave him a reassuring smile as you slid his work back to him. You, however, didn’t shift back to your original position and instead stayed seated mere inches from the boy. Not that he minded, but…

“O-Oh, alright, thanks!”

It made concentrating during the rest of the study session a little difficult.

Occasionally you did get up, helping mostly the first and second years with some of their English assignments. His eyes would secretly (but c’mon, everyone but Hinata and Kageyama could tell) follow your figure, admiring the way you looked as you interacted happily with the others and did whatever you could to assist them. Yet you always returned to the same spot, near Suga. Close enough that everyone else on the team took notice (if they haven’t already), relayed the information via mental telephone, and secretly agreed to depart a bit earlier than they had anticipated.

“Oh, you guys are leaving already?” you asked everyone as they were packing up their belongings.

They all nodded in response, offering up their reasons for leaving earlier than the original time you set, which ranged from, “My parents wanted me home for dinner” to “My sister’s wasted and locked out of the house, nobody’s home—” (u good der Saeko)

Standing at your doorway, you waved to your friends, sending them off with a “I’ll see you at school!” as they waved back and filed out of your home. Looking over to Suga, who was still standing beside you, you wondered, “Oh, you’re staying?”

“Oh, yeah! I was surprised to see everyone leave so soon, but I was planning to head home in another hour. B-But I can go now if you need me to..!” he answered a bit shakily, waving around his hands in small, bashful gestures.

You shook your head and you waved your hand dismissively. “It’s okay, you’re more than welcome to stay for however long you need to.”

Settled back in the common area, you both tried to resume your schoolwork, but to no avail. Groaning, you leaned back, using your arms to support you from behind. “I’m tired of workingggggg.”

He sighed in agreement, resting an elbow on the table and propping up his head in a closed fist. “Same. Do you want to do something else?”

“Hmm..” you pondered aloud. “Do you want to see my room?”

Shrugging and responding with a “why not?”, you both stood up, leaving the common area to go to your room. You opened the door and stepped inside, Suga closely trailing behind you.

“Welcome to my room. Make yourself cozy,” you insisted as you sat on your bed and pat the spot next to you. He took your offer, taking a seat beside you and looking around your bedroom in curiosity.

“Something about this place really seems like you, (y/n).”

You raised an eyebrow at his comment. “Is it the messy pile of clothes in that basket or the neat desk I cleaned up this morning?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I suppose you could say those are part of it. I just meant there’s a lot to you that you should feel comfortable sharing with others. People are complex and there’s so many sides to a person we discover along the way. I remember how timid you were in our first weeks of knowing each other, and now you’re getting along great with everyone and work hard to improve everyday. You were able to overcome a stressful repeat of entering highschool, but this time in another country, and adapted just fine! Your kindness and determination is admirable.”

Twiddling with your fingers, you felt a sheepish grin form on your face. “Aha, you’re too kind, Suga. You know I couldn’t have made these friends or adjust so well without your help. I was too worried about talking to anyone until you came up to me, so… Thank you.”

You risked a glance towards the boy, finding his chocolate gaze already set on you. If none of your interactions in the past month had set your heart ablaze, then certainly this moment would take the cake. Sugawara’s eyes flickered downwards briefly in a moment of hesitance, then locked again onto yours with a hint of an undetectable emotion lurking behind those irises.  Neither of you could bring up any words to say. The only sounds present were the soft hums of your breathing and the low creak of your bed as you found yourselves shifting your weight in order to inch closer to one another.

His mind flooded with a cacophony of emotions, from crippling nervousness to an allure for risk-taking. He could barely come to terms with the current situation and what might happen. Maybe he was overthinking it. Surely being this close face-to-face with someone who you just happen to like doesn’t automatically mean they like you back and want to kiss you just as much. Perhaps you were just leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder; after all, you did seem tired from the events of today. Or, you were scooting close for a better look at his face so you could point out, “hey, you got a little something on your face.” Perhaps a crumb from the cracker he had earlier?

But when he took note of the way your eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes caressing the tops of your dusted cheeks, his doubts began to waver. Maybe this was the chance he’s been seeking out lately. Once Daichi deciphered Sugawara’s affections for you, eventually the whole team found out and began to silently root for him. Thankfully, despite their blatant attempts to help him out, you hadn’t noticed a thing. It made him wonder whether you were oblivious, or just didn’t like him, or both. However, in this moment, when it appeared as though maybe you returned his feelings, he felt he should—as Tanaka would say—shoot his shot.

A sudden knock on the door sent you both jumping 5 feet away from each other. Frazzled and wide-eyed, you choked out a weak, “H-Hello?” in response to the interruption. The door opened, revealing your parent/guardian, who peeked inside.

“Dinner’s ready. Would you like to stay and have it with us?” they were asking Suga.

Heart still racing from the fear that gripped it, he blinked in surprise. He piped out a polite no thank you, reasoning that he didn’t want to intrude.

“Nonsense, we’re happy to have you. Come soon.”

They closed the door and left, leaving you two in an awkward silence that was soon interrupted by the sound of your cough. “We should, uh, get going…”

Standing up, you reached for the door with Suga in tow. The tension in the air remained between the two of you throughout dinner. Nevertheless, Sugawara was able to leave a good impression on your family by being a good conversationalist, even earning a few laughs from your parent/guardian. It made your heart swell at how natural it was for him to be able to get along with others.

After dinner ended and he packed his things, you stepped outside with him to send him off, closing the door behind you. He was about to salute you with a “thanks for having me over” when you gave him a peck on the cheek so sudden that he didn’t have time to react before you were already making your way back into your house.

“Thanks for coming, Suga! I’ll see you at school! Let me know when you get home!” you exclaimed animatedly, shutting the door quickly to hide your embarrassment from your sudden actions. You leaned your back against it, instantly regretting what you did with tightly shut eyes. ‘Oh gawd how am I gonna face him at school tomorrow dhefjkg.’

But on the other side of the door, Suga stood dumbfounded, hovering a hand over the area your lips had touch. Though highly embarrassed, he felt a rush of elation pass over him like a humongous wave that never stopped crashing against the shores.

He was starting to really think it was a good idea to introduce himself to the cute new girl in class. Nice one, Suga.

#haikyuu x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader oneshots #hq reader insert #haikyuu reader insert #requests

[ofieugogyshz]

Fic;; This Will Get Better, ch. 7 - Rotomdex

Chapter content warnings: none

Word count: 3500

Chapter Summary: Having cleared the first Trial with ease, Mustard gives the students of the Master Dojo and its guests a few hours before starting the next one. In that time, Sarah decides to update her Pokedex, and meets Hyde, the son of Honey and Mustard. When everyone comes back for lunch, Mustard announces what the next trial is!

(Fic Masterpost)

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

Mustard announced that there would be a short pause before the second trial. I decided to take the time to look into getting my Pokedex updated. I didn't need it to be upgraded to a full, complete transfer over to a new device-- in fact, I hated that idea. I wanted to update the information in mine with that of Galar's, so that I'd know about any other regional variant Pokemon, like those three Slowpoke from earlier. I was going to need at least that much while we stayed here and trained.

“Do you know if there's any way that I can update my Pokedex while I'm here?” I asked Miss Honey. “Those Slowpoke didn't respond to Pika's Thunderbolt like I expected, and if we're going to be here for a month, I'd like to be able to know more about the local Pokemon.” While I spoke, I dug my Pokedex out of my bag, one that dated over 20 years old. I saw the surprise on Honey's face and let out an annoyed sigh, expecting yet another comment about its age. “I know, I know, it's old, but I've been able to keep it upgraded; the insides are far more up to date and have more memory than the original model did. Honestly, this is just a shell, but it's the same shell that I've had since I started out as a trainer.”

“Why... That's amazing that you've managed to keep it functioning after all this time!” The unexpected praise caused my face to warm up. “I wouldn't know how to upgrade that myself, but if there's anyone on the Isle of Armor that could, it'd be my son Hyde!”

“Hyde?” I tried to think back on everyone that I had met so far. No one introduced themselves with that name, and no one had said anything about being Honey and Mustard's child, either. She must have caught my confused look and nodded, as though remembering something.

“Yes, of course. You haven't had a chance to meet him yet-- he doesn't like to come out of his room often, and prefers to play with his inventions instead. If you go over here...” Honey pointed me towards his room. “...you'll probably find him inside.”

I went down the path she pointed, until I found a nameplate that said “Hyde”. I knocked on the closed door; there was no immediate response. I thought about knocking again when the door opened, and I had to look down to see a small child, maybe around age 8 or 9, looking up at me with an almost condescending face.

“What do you want? I'm kind of busy right now, so make it quick.”

“Oh, um. Uh... I'm looking for Hyde. Do you know where I could find him?” As soon as I said it, I knew that I had asked a dumb question. I had expected someone much older, given Mustard's age. Was Honey just that good at hiding her age, or... I did not want to think about that.

The little boy let out an annoyed sigh.

“Yes, that's me. Geez, why are you even knocking around if you don't know who you're looking for.” He started to close the door, and before I could stop myself, I put my hand on it to keep it from closing.

“Wait! Sorry, I just... Didn't know that you were going to be.... Um....”

“A kid?” He rolled his eyes at me. “Did you need something from me or what?”

Rude little shit. He was quickly getting on my nerves. But if his mom thought he could help update my Pokedex...

“Yes, actually, I did need something from you.” I held out my Pokedex. Hyde's grip on the door loosened and he adjusted his glasses to look at the device in my hand.

“What is that?” he asked incredulously.

I let out an annoyed sigh.

“It's my Pokedex.”

“I've never seen a Pokedex like that.” He motioned if he could take it, and I handed it over. He looked it over, opening it to look at the screen that had been replaced more than three times over the years.

I was attached to the old model of Pokedex. I felt bad when I had to scrape the insides out in order for someone to build a new computer inside of it, when times changed and technology improved far more than it could keep up. When information began to take up too much space, I paid someone to change its storage capacity, along with everything else. I had invested so much into it. Time. Money. Emotions. Experiences. It was my pride and joy as a trainer, having that model; where others had upgraded as soon as they could, I still clung to it, glad to relive memories that were forever etched into the casing. It wasn't just about the data-- data could be saved, duplicated, and moved. It was about the attachment, the memories it held for me. And upgrading to a new shell meant that I wouldn't have that connection to those old days anymore.

“It's a little bit older than you,” I said after a few moments of letting him look.

“Looks older than my dad.”

I could hear a snort of laughter from behind me, and I turned around, seeing Lance standing there, trying not to laugh. I crossed my arms, frowning at him.

“I'm sorry; I came to look for you, and--” he began.

“You're in no position to talk, mister 'listens to music from the 1800s',” I scoffed.

“1900s. And that's not even that old!”

“It may as well be the 1800s, old as your soul is!”

“Can you two stop your married bickering?” Hyde interjected. The small child looked annoyed: he was tapping his foot, arms across his chest, waiting for his presence to be noticed again. “I want to get back to work on important stuff; I don't have time for your old people nonsense.”

I couldn't tell whether I should have laughed or been appalled at that comment, while Lance seemed amused.

“Is this... is this how you treat people who want to ask you for favors?”

“You came to me; I don't see why I have to help you.”

I puffed out my cheeks, trying to hold back any rude comments. Kid or not, I wasn't above telling them off. But he was the master's kid, and my husband was there now, too...

“What's going on?” Lance asked.

“I asked Honey if she knew where I could get my Pokedex updated, and she suggested that I ask her son.” I jerked my head in the direction of Hyde. “But I'm starting to think that this was a waste of my time.”

“Look, I don't know how to update something that old. But I can give you a Rotomdex for you to use. I feel a little bad giving it away since my mom got it for me to use next year, but I'm not interested in doing the Gym Challenge. You want it or not?”

“Not particularly.”

“A Rotomdex would make it a lot easier to get around here,” Hyde began saying, as he continued to look over my ancient device to understand it. “They have maps, camera function, voice-based communications, and they're controlled by a Rotom, who are able to talk by using the installed voice libraries. And it's lot quicker for me than trying to figure out how this thing works.”

I thought about it. A Rotomdex sounded interesting, for sure, but the thought of using it felt off. It would be too different from what I was used to. Like I'd have to give up using my old Pokedex because of the new one.

“You'd just need a Rotom to put into the device. Trust me, out here you'll want a Rotomdex for the map system. It'll help guide you around the Isle and provide you with information on the area. It's really easy to get lost here.”

“Yeah... I won't need that. I've never gotten lost. I have a pretty damn good internal GPS; I can intuitively find my way to the place I need to be.” It wasn't even some sort of sixth sense developed over years of travel; I had always known the quickest way out of a route, cave, or forest. Even a trip to the distortion world in my younger years was disorienting at best, but I hardly got lost while in it. Still was not on my list of favorite places to go.

“That doesn't happen around here. Lots of overconfident trainers think that they don't need to use a map, and then they wind up getting themselves lost, especially in the forest. We usually have to wind up sending out a search party, like we did with you when you got here.”

“Excuse you, we were not lost!” I crossed my arms and huffed. “We were misinformed on how to meetup.”

Hyde handed back my Pokedex. It seemed that he was done with me if I wasn't going to take the offer for a Rotomdex. There was a quiet pause as we waited for the other to speak.

“If you're done here...”

“Ugh, fine, I'll take the d—stupid Pokedex.”

“It's a Rotomdex,” he corrected. Hyde opened the door to his bedroom all the way and invited both my husband and I inside.

It looked more like a workshop than a bedroom. There were many computers, all sorts of machinery scattered about. Cables were bundled up together, but that didn't stop the few spare ones creating tangles across the floor. There were boxes around the room used to house different components he kept.

“Sorry about the mess. Mom's always telling me to clean up, but I don't see the point if I don't usually have people over.”

Hyde went over to a cabinet in the corner and began to rifle through its drawers, trying to find something.

“Right...” That felt familiar to me. I was the same way when I was a kid, though I certainly didn't have the vast array of mechanical and computational skill as he did. I looked around and noticed something that was near his computer; it looked like a machine that he was working on, blue in color, and shaped like some sort of bird that I wasn't familiar with.

“What're you working on over there?” I asked, both curious and trying to be friendly with the kid. He was giving me a free Pokedex, after all.

“Oh that? That's my Cram-o-Matic. It's the invention of the century! It's my very own brilliant take on recycling. But it doesn't do a thing right now, since it's out of power. If I just had enough Watts...” He paused. “Hey, actually--! I can give you this Rotomdex if you can do a favor for me!”

I knew there was gonna be a catch. I sighed.

“Sure kid. I can try; what do you want?”

“Watts. All it would take is a measly 500 Watts to get the Cram-o-matic up and running!”

“Watts?” I looked at Lance, and he shrugged. He didn't seem to know what it was either.

“The two of you don't know?! Watts are the energy that you can get from the Pokemon Dens in the Wild Areas. Your Dynamax bands can absorb it whenever you're near one, and then we can transfer that energy into the machine or a battery with a cable!”

I looked at Lance; he was the only one between the two of us that had a Dynamax band.

“We don't have any right now, but would it be possible to pay you back later?” he asked.

Hyde tapped his foot against the ground as he thought about it.

“What are your names again?”

“I'm Sarah, and this is my husband Lance.”

“You're the Champions that my parents invited over for training, right?”

“That's right.”

“You guys are probably more the outdoors type, huh? Well, I'll loan this Rotomdex to you for now, Sarah, so long as you guys promise to pay me when you get the watts. Then it's all yours.”

“Yeah, that doesn't sound like an issue for me. Though, it might be a little bit before we get any. That okay with you, Hyde?”

He began to dig into the drawer again, and finally pulled out a flat, red device, about as wide as the Switch I had packed in my bag. He waved it at me. “No problem. Well, let me know when you've got a Rotom to put into here, and I'll help set you up.”

“If you guys had a PC, I could get that done right now.”

The kid lit up, as though proud to lord this incoming fact over me.

“It just got delivered this morning, while you guys were out doing dad's first trial! I watched the guy set it up.”

Hyde showed me to where the dojo's PC was. I connected to my account and withdrew a Rotom-- one that I had caught back in Sinnoh many, many years ago. It zipped around excitedly when I let it out, like an old friend who hadn't seen me in a long time. I directed it into the Pokedex. The screen lit up a light blue, and two large blue eyes, much like a Rotom's, appeared on the screen.

“Hi? Hello? Hello! It is I, your trusty Rotom, Plasmastar! So good to see you again, Sarah!” The Rotomdex floated around; not nearly as fast as the zippy Ghost-type Pokemon typically was. But it seemed overjoyed nevertheless with its new home.

Hyde grabbed the Pokedex, causing the Rotom inside to give a startled cry. “If you don't mind, I'll help talk your Rotom through proper installation, so it's familiar with how to use all of its components. It'll take at least an hour though.”

“An hour?!” shouted my Rotom, and it tried to pull itself away from Hyde's grip. “I don't have time for that! Please, please, don't leave me with him!”

“Sorry Plasmastar. But please bear with it, so you can help us. I heard you'll be able to read the map really well and be super helpful to us, if you do!”

It stopped tugging. “Super helpful? Say no more, I am glad to be of service!” I'm not sure what it was trying to do at that moment, but there was a flash that went off, temporarily blinding Hyde.

“Oops! Sorry about that, small human! I'll listen, but you better make it quicker than an hour! I want to go explore with Sarah again!”

Lance and I went outside to look around the dojo. Pokemon played in the grass; the groups of Jigglypuff and Buneary from yesterday saw us and ran up, excited to see us again. I reached into my bag and let out the two that I had caught so they could see their friends.

“Ellie, Bunbun! C'mon out!”

The Jigglypuff and Buneary appeared. They looked around while their friends stood in awe for a moment, before clamoring all around them excitedly. Ellie puffed herself up with pride, and began to tell her audience about her battle. She mimed out what happened, eventually getting Bunbun to play the Mienfoo. Though Bunbun was reluctant, she eventually joined in. She got so into it that she was suddenly going off script, including a lowkick when Ellie was supposed to dodge another punch, causing Ellie to bounce into the ground. Angry, the Jigglypuff began to yell at the Buneary, while the other turned around and stuck up her nose. Their audience didn't know what to do at this point, so they wandered away, going back to playing in the grass.

As amusing as it was, it wouldn't do me any good if my two newest members were fighting amongst each other. I walked over and pushed them apart.

“C'mon guys. Bunbun, apologize to Ellie; and Ellie, calm down. You asked her to do something she didn't want to do anyways. This is a consequence of that.”

Ellie huffed and turned away, crossing her arms while Bunbun continued to do so. I sighed.

“Please? If the two of you make up, I'll give you each a treat.”

At the promise of a treat, the two of them looked at me, before turning around and looking at each other. Bunbun smiled and apologized, and Ellie smiled and puffed herself up, as though proclaiming that she was in the right anyways. Bunbun looked away, pretending not to be annoyed by the display. Both of them looked at me, holding out their hands expectantly.

“Hey-- wait, I never said I was going to give you a treat right away! They're back in the Dojo; you'll have to wait 'til later for one.”

Both of them gave me an angry look and turned away from me, arms crossed. Well, at least they were in unison on that.

“Eheh.... Alright, how about the two of you c'mon back.” I held up my Pokeballs and they both went back inside.

“Trouble with your new friends?” Lance asked. He had let Zweilous out while Ellie and Bunbun entertained their audience, and the two-headed dragon was biting onto sleeve of his uniform.

“Nothing that I'm not used to.” I motioned to Zweilous. “On the other hand, I think I should be asking you that, except I know that's just how Zwei is. Did he break through the fabric already?”

Lance laughed and pet both of their heads in sequence, causing each one to finally let go of the loose fabric. He brought up his arm, looking at the sleeve. “No, not yet. He's just hungry. We should go back inside and get something to eat for lunch.”

Everyone had gathered in the dining room once more, with plates and bowls left out in the Dojo's main hall for our Pokemon. Zweilous ran over to the nearest bowl, both of his heads fighting over bites. Pika ran up to the bowl next to him. We let out the rest of our Pokemon, leaving them to eat while we headed towards a spot at the table where we could sit next to each other.

“Thank you, Ms. Honey!” everyone said before digging in. Chatter filled the dining room between bites, and everyone felt so warm and welcoming. No one seemed to begrudge us for having defeated all three Slowpokes, including those who never even got to catch up to one. In fact, many were excitedly speculating about what the next trial might be. I looked around the table, wondering if Hyde had joined everyone, or if he had missed the call to lunch. I couldn't see him. The din of the dining room began to lower as everyone filled up on the food made by Ms. Honey and the students who helped with meal prep. The final peals of laughter and conversation were silenced when Mustard stood up and addressed everyone.

“A-hem. I'd like to congratulate everyone who did their best this morning with the first trial. To those of you that weren't able to pass—may you have better luck next time. Take this time to train up! For those of you moving on to the second trial, I will take the time to explain what your next trial is. Now that you're all energized from lunch--” Mustard paused mid-thought, as though something came to mind.

“I think our second trial should be something to welcome them with. You know what would sound good for dinner tonight? The Master Dojo's secret recipe: Max Soup! Since we have two special guests, I'd love for them to have a bowl of Max Soup full of Max Mushrooms for tonight. And that's why your second trial shall be mushroom picking!” A collective, confused reaction, interspersed with some groans, went out among the students. I blinked, confused myself. How was gathering dinner ingredients supposed to be a trial? If anything, it sounded much easier than the first. Someone whispered to another student that they were glad they hadn't passed.

“Students!” The dining room quieted once more at Mustard's raised voice. “That's better. In case you forgot, or you aren't aware, Max Mushrooms are the key to Gigantamaxing, and I'm tasking all of you with finding three!”

Honey stood next to Mustard, explaining what we were looking for. “Max Mushrooms are red with a spiral pattern. You can usually find them in dark, humid places, such as the forest or Warm-Up Tunnel.”

Mustard, “And with that, your next trial begins! I'm countin' on ya!”

#pokemon #isle of armor #champion lance #pokemon lance #pokemon honey #pokemon mustard #pokemon hyde #master dojo #pokemon selfship #selfshipping #self insert #pokemon fanfic #self insert fanfic #fanfic #pokemon swsh #pokemon sword and shield #writing #fic: this will get better #adhd selfshipping #selfship fic

[chidoroki]

Emma - 63194

So, it’s August 22nd, otherwise known as the best day of the month because we get to celebrate Emma's birthday! I feel like she doesn't get enough credit, especially as a shōnen protagonist, probably because she's just a normal kid compared to others with overwhelming powers/magic/quirks/etc, but I think that just makes her feats all the more interesting and amazing. So, here I am, ready to praise the hell out of everything she's done, what she's capable of, and who she is on her special day.

(spoilers for the entirety of The Promised Neverland, so if you haven't read/completed the manga yet, consider this your first warning, because I'm literally going from start to finish with this.)

This is gonna be one hell of a long post, so here we go.

- She's one of the smartest kids at Grace Field, alongside Norman and Ray, who all get full scores on the house's daily tests, which is by no means a simple task.

- This is thanks to her ability to learn things quickly, which she puts to the absolute best use throughout the entire story.

- She's undoubtedly the most athletic out of the full-score trio, as she can pull off a leap like this with no issue!

- I gotta give her voice actor credit here because her scream at the end of EP1 is simply fantastic.

- She noticed the windows in the house were screwed shut, which reinforced the idea that the kids were merely raised like cattle. (Ray was also aware of this, of course.)

- Suspects the use of tracking devices. (The anime had Norman voicing this realization, so whoever you want to give the credit for this is up to you.)

- Believe me when I say that her acting skills are top-notch.

- She's so good that she was able to control her emotions enough and even regulated her pulse to fool Isabella.

- This! Just all of this. Her crazy ideals, her never-give-up mentality, her ability to stay optimistic and strong despite everything they're up against.. just amazing.

- She always thinks of her family first. (she honestly rarely cries too, now that I think about it.)

- By using what she overheard from the demons at the gate and the “blood tests” Isabella once told her about, Emma was able to figure out where the tracking devices were located on her own. (Yeah, Ray knew of this too, but he kept that info to himself.)

- She then created a situation that allowed her to confirm this and that yes, Isabella is indeed always checking their trackers.

- It was Emma's idea to train the other children by playing tag. Not only did this help them during the escape, but afterwards as well.

- Takes advantage of every opportunity to learn. (also, the strength she has!)

- Amazing learning ability x2 (I'm aware the manga says 10 instead, but still! I bet she could memorize 100 too!)

- She believes in everyone and makes Norman realize that no one in their family is truly bad and that leaving anyone behind, even the “traitor,” could cost them their life.

- She called Ray out on his bluff about him actually being willing to help everyone escape.

- Then confronted Ray about the possibility of him experimenting on the tracking devices of their siblings, thus resulting in their early shipments, which is something Norman didn't even realize, if his surprised expression is anything to go by. (Emma scolds him and hides her anger well, though she only stays mad for like, a minute.)

- She, along with Gilda, notice Isabella disappear every night after 8pm, leading them to assume the house might contain a secret room. They eventually pinpoint where it's located. (Ray suspects such a room must have existed, but wasn't certain.)

- Introduces the boys to William Minerva's books and the morse code bookplates they held, which the trio all know how to decode and understand. (I know Phil pointed them out to her originally and manga Ray was also aware of them, surprise, but..) the hunch she had about the two special books being important guides for them turned out to be true later on after the escape.

- Accepts her mistakes and is quick to apologize when she's wrong.

- Thank you anime for giving us these wonderful lines.

- Has her leg broken and yet she doesn't shed one damn tear. (the horrific sound still haunts me.) Ah, might as well also mention this now, but her theme, 63194, is one of the best songs on the soundtrack.

- Once again caring about others more than herself, as she was ready to destroy her leg/foot even more if it allowed Norman a chance to escape.

- This absolutely amazing moment right here! Easily one of the best panels of her by far!

- Used what she heard from Krone and spent two months hiding her emotions and plans from Isabella. Learning ability & best actress x10.

- Isabella actually believes this. Seriously, someone give Emma an award. Best actress x50.

- Do y'all know how strong physically, mentally and emotionally this girl must be to cut off her own ear? I know she was in a rush to escape while Isabella was busy with the fire, like she literally had about ten seconds (anime) to remove her tracker, but damn! Not once does she ever cry over it either. May I remind you she's only 11!

- Stops Ray's suicide attempt by catching the match, thus burning her palms.

- It was her idea to let the other kids know of the escape, which helped in proceeding with the preparations behind Isabella's back.

- I love Ray x fire jokes as much as the next person, but we all know who the real pyro is. More props to her voice actor again for the scream that follows!

- Successfully carried out Norman's plan and escaped Grace Field with 14 other children.

(post-season one spoilers beyond this point)

- Keeps her cool in dangerous situations, which helps calm down the younger children. Also fairly knowledgeable of the books from Grace Field's library, such as “The Adventures of Ugo,” which came in handy in the demon forest.

- Remains positive and completely hopeful after learning the truth about the demon world they're living in from Sonju.

- It only took three days for her to become proficient enough in archery in order to hunt successfully. She apparently also knows how to use a harpoon (ch49) (but I don't think we ever see that, sadly). Learning ability x20.

- She also didn't panic when she was held at gunpoint. She stayed reasonably calm and forced her way free instead.

- Didn't even flinch when Yuugo's bullet grazed her cheek.

- Can she just get a round of applause, please?

- Emma is just so fearless. Gun to the head? Knife in her face? Doesn't matter. She'll threaten you right back.

- Kudos to her learning ability yet again x50.

- Her quick reflexes and accuracy are phenomenal.

- Of course, cue the talk-no-jutsu skills that every shonen protagonist is undoubtedly skilled with.

- Even Lewis knows at a first glance that our girl is good. Takes a lot to receive praise from this demon.

- Offers herself up as bait to lure the poachers away from the other children.

- Literally cares for anyone, as she helped countless kids she didn't even know during her first hunt at Goldy Pond by keeping them safe.

- Thanks again to her knowledge of the “The Adventures of Ugo” novel, she was able to locate the memory chip for the pen that contains information about Minerva's supporters, the paths to cross over to the human world, Goldy Pond, The Seven Walls and Project Lambda 7214.

- The damn skill she has in handling guns in the matter of two weeks is astonishing.. and she's still only 11.

- Informed the Goldy Pond kids on how to accurately aim for the demon’s center eye, which greatly helped them take out the poacher Nouma.

- She has the audacity to taunt Lewis right back and I love her for it. She also offered to stay behind in order stall Lewis on her own, despite knowing he's the most dangerous of the poachers.

- When the talk-no-jutsu towards the crazy demon fails, she summons a wide array of guns against him, because why the hell not, right?

- She once admitted that she was no good at reading an opponent's moves, but after watching many people in her life who are skilled in such a way (Norman, Ray, Isabella, Krone) and thanks to the knowledge she recently leanred about Goldy Pond, she manages to catch Lewis off guard and electrocute him. Her level of adaptability is wonderful. Learning ability x100.

- Can we all just take a moment to obsess over Emma's Goldy Pond outfit because it is fucking fantastic! She just looks so damn good! (I owe Demizu my life for this.)

- Actually manages to get Yuugo to call her by her real name after he was so adamant to no learn them or get attached to the kids.

- This bright smile adds five years onto my life.

- She’s the first to notice the disadvantage demons have with regeneration, which ultimately leads to their winning strategy against Lewis.

- She somehow survives this. (plot-armor, I know, but goddamn!)

- Now presenting, the exact moment I fell in love with Emma, because holy fucking shit! Not only does she survive getting stabbed like that, but she gets back up and continues fighting! Can I get a big ol' HELL YEAH!!

- She busts out the pistol with the trick shots she's kept hidden this entire time until the very right moment, effectively taking Lewis by surprise and granting Yuugo a clear shot to his middle eye as the demon stands defenseless against the shower of bullets.

- Emma's influence over everyone else is so powerful. We see it many times throughout the story, but because of her, they all accept that the impossible is possible, everyone is worth saving, and to never give up. This is especially amazing to witness in scenarios with Ray, since Krone once said that his weakness was that he's "a little quick to give up. He makes a decision fast but abandons other just as quickly."

- Because of everyone's assistance, they were able to destroy Gold Pond and rescue over 60+ kids, which probably wouldn't have happened if it weren't for Emma presence at the hunting ground in the first place.

- Not to discredit Ray, because I'm sure he did a fine job of cauterizing Emma's wounds, but she did survive a day and a half with a low blood count. (She was unconscious, sure, but her body didn't give up either.)

- Finally wakes up from her coma a month later and the first thing she's concerned with is the safety of everyone else.

- I swear, this girl has a heart of gold, but we knew that already.

- Doesn't let her missing ear hinder her at all, just adjusts how it would function normally in her daily life.

- Memorized the many maps found in the shelter's reference room alongside her siblings. Learning ability x125.

- She's capable of taking out three wild demons in the matter of seconds. Accuracy and speed on point still on point.

(Ah post-timeskip, just a little over halfway done now.) - Will not hesitate to jump in and save someone, regardless of the danger to herself.

- No 13 year-old should have this amount of pressure on their shoulders, but I'll be damned, she handles this and so much more well.

- She pushes aside her own anxieties over losing the shelter, those two boys and possibly Yuugo and Lucas and decides to lift the spirits of everyone else instead.

- Y'all see this demon? Do you think she cares? Not one bit! All that matters is her family's safety and she'll do anything to preserve that. We stan one reckless girl.

- Doesn't cry over the deaths of Yuugo and Lucas (at least, I don't think she does? She appears more frustrated here than upset.)

- She can pick up on how others are feeling, even if they're trying to hide it. (also does so several times to Norman (ch30, 128,153) and even to Yuugo (ch64))

- Is the first to volunteer to sneak into the mass production farm guarded by demons in order to retrieve the medicine Chris needs.

- Honey, how are you not screaming for you life right now?

- Official translation has Hayato saying “The Boss is saying he wants to meet you,” but I feel like this unofficial one here conveys the exchange between Emma and Oliver better. Their large family has children who are older and more experienced as a leader than Emma, but they all choose to follow her.

- Just a casual reminder of how strong our girl is. (She even beats out Ray and Don in terms of strength too.)

- I probably only find this impressive because I love my sleep, but she wakes up at 6 in the morning. Always. Without fail. For thirteen years. Then panics the one time she actually oversleeps.

- She knows every life is precious, no matter who or what they are. Also doesn’t want to follow Norman's civil war plan, which is good, because damn that's a bit extreme. Doing so would only create more fear and hatred.

- Say it louder.

- LOUDER!

- Agrees to go and find out more about The Seven Walls in hopes to stop Norman's plan, despite the many risks. Can she really arrive at TSW? What's actually there? Could she even make a new promise? Will she be able to return afterwards? There's a bunch of unknowns, but that won't stop her. (“Simple?” “It is simple.” That line kills me every time.)

- TSW proved to be very mentally exhausting but she and Ray did survive all the craziness they faced while trapped there.

- Due to her unique way of thinking, she managed to remain sane and was able to figure out how TSW worked, which is something even Ray couldn't quite comprehend.

- Because of that, she was then able to finally meet the bastard demon god.

- Thus allowing her to..successfully.. make a new promise. (Ahhh)

- Best actress x500 (damn damn damn!)

- Honestly, have they practiced this before or is her athleticism just that superior? Either way, she never fails to surprise me.

- Isn't afraid to speak the truth and put one of her best friends in their place.

- But manages to (somehow) forgive him, after his plan successfully killed the queen, the demon royals and poisoned the capital city, which forced the nearby demons to degenerate.

- Her optimism knows no bounds.

- She & everyone else were able to infiltrate Grace Field which is not only guarded by demons but the Ratri clan as well.

- Just how? I know your athletic but wow!

- The woman who shipped out so many of Emma's siblings and broke her leg now holds a gun to her face and yet our girl doesn't look panicked in the slightest. Girl, how are you so brave?! Holy shit. There's no fear in those eyes, only anger.

- AND she ends up forgiving her! After learning Isabella betrayed Peter and realizing that all the mothers and sisters are also fighting for their freedom, Emma gladly accepts Isabella's assistance. (Best mother daughter moment I've ever seen.)

- The entire talk-no-jutsu she pulls on Peter in ch172. She's angry, even downright hates the Ratri, but she refuses to get revenge for all the trouble they've caused to her family and friends by killing Peter. She admits the clan's actions can never be forgiven, but she still shows sympathy because she knows they were also suffering due to the world and roles they were born into.

- We find out that Emma worded the promise perfectly which allows every human raised as food to cross over into the human world. Truly thinking of everyone as per usual.

- She kept her promise to Phil and came back for him and the rest of the children she had originally left behind at Grace Field.

- Again, showing no hesitation to save someone she barely knows, even when unarmed.

- Pretty sure I was in literal tears at this point of the chapter, so kudos to her for making me bawl my eyes out. Aahh, she's just so forgiving and her heart is so big.

- Best actress x9999 (*screaming internally*)

- SHE LITERALLY SACRIFICES HER OWN HAPPINESS SO EVERYONE IMPORTANT TO HER CAN LIVE IN PEACE AND BE HAPPY!!

- She loves her family so deeply that even without her memories, her heart still remembers them. (it makes me cry too, hun, it's okay.)

- She has a heart literally made of solid gold. Of course she can't refuse the bastard's reward, but still accepts it with a smile on her face knowing that all humans and demons, of the present and future, can now live freely without any fear. She completely ended the tragedy that persisted the last 1,000+ years and changed the world like she set out to do back in ch4. Sweetheart please, you're anything but selfish.

- She has the most precious family on the planet. Her influence was so strong that they searched endlessly for two years just to see her again, by never giving up or doubting her words back in ch178. They're beyond happy when they do finally find her and are a bunch of sweethearts who accept her no matter what.

- Ahh, I just really love Emma okay? She's honestly one of the few protagonists I actually enjoy. Happy Birthday again to this all-around amazing girl and I can't wait to see her in action in future anime seasons!!

(congrats, you've made it to the end. i apologize if i missed any other moment worth mentioning, but yeah, i think this is enough for now.)

#the promised neverland #tpn emma #tpn manga #tpn anime #emma #chidoroki used chatter

[calligraphist-artemisia]

Soul of a Lion (Chapter 4)

Sequel to The Smallest Blade.

Summary: After the Red Lion steals them away from the Marmora base and takes them through a wormhole, Shiro, Keith, Katla, and Lance find themselves in front of a majestic castle with nowhere to go but inside. The events that unfold while they’re there will change the fate of the universe.

Also posted on AO3 under the username “kishirokitsune”.

☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆

4 | History Revealed

Allura was in good spirits as she made her way to the dining hall, where Coran was already seated and enjoying a heaping plate of food goo. She grimaced at the thought of eating more of it. Food goo was truly an acquired taste and she hoped Hunk was making plans to look into what was available on the planet.

Before she could shuffle off into the royal kitchen for her own plate, Hunk came bustling through the door with a broad grin on his face and a tray carefully balanced in each hand. One of the kitchen droids – a little one nicknamed 'Nikbot' for all of the times Hunk used it to transport picnic supplies – scooted along behind him, beeping in a happy tone as it carried a tray of drinks.

“I made breakfast!” Hunk announced, depositing one tray laden with all kinds of fruits and berries into the center of the table. “Or, well, I found breakfast.”

Nikbot beeped loudly and bumped into his legs.

“Nikbot and I found breakfast,” Hunk amended. “This planet has so much food! We'll be set for phoebs with all of the stuff we found, even with seven of us to feed.”

Allura cleared her throat and held out her hand, allowing her four new friends to scurry down from her shoulder onto the table. “Actually, there are eleven of us. Apparently they shared a pod with me for all of this time! You're looking at the last four genuine Altean mice!”

“Awww,” Hunk cooed.

Coran leaned forward in interest. “Well, hello!”

Allura happily introduced them, starting with the large yellow one (Platt), then the smallest blue one (Chulatt), followed by the skinny greenish-one (Plachu), and finally the pale pink one (Chuchule). She made no mention of her ability to communicate with them – Hunk certainly wouldn't approve of her spying methods, no matter that her intentions were to ensure their safety.

As the mice helped themselves to the array of fruits before them, Allura gladly accepted a steaming cup from Nikbot's tray and took a long, slow sip of the hot beverage. She hummed in pleasure and then surveyed the food, giggling as she witnessed Platt open his mouth wide and fit a whole berry into it. He turned to look at her, his cheeks bulging, and Allura giggled even harder.

“It's good to see you in such high spirits, princess,” Coran remarked as he accepted one of the cold beverages from Nikbot.

“It is going to be a good day, Coran,” Allura said in response. “I thought we could go over our itinerary while we eat. There's a great deal that needs to be done around here and planning is the best way to ensure the important details are accomplished.”

Hunk shifted a little. “I was going to take more food down to the others. I don't think they're fans of the food goo.”

Allura's smile was strained. “Then I shall be brief.” She gently set down her cup and took a deep breath, reminding herself that she needed to give them a chance to prove themselves and that getting angry over it wasn't good for her health. “Our automated systems have kept things in good working order for all of this time, but just in case, I sent out the repair bots last night to see if there's anything that needs our attention. We should have that report once we return to the bridge.

“As long as there isn't anything we need to immediately address, there are tasks that each of us need to complete. Coran, I would like you to check on the engine room. You have the most knowledge and experience in that area and I trust that you'll have it in working order in no time. Hunk, I see you've already begun your work in the kitchens. Once you're certain that the kitchen bots have everything under control, you'll be in charge of the care for our guests. Should Coran need your help in the engine room, he'll call for you.”

She went on to explain that she would be checking in on the crystal chamber, which housed the various power crystals that kept the Castle running. Using her Aspect of Spirit, she would be able to recharge any of the crystals that were running low on energy. It would take her some time to go over all of them, but she predicted to be finished by midday.

After lunch, she would take on the difficult task of speaking with their guests.

Or perhaps she'd only talk to one of them.

Yes, one at a time would be best.

☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆

“They don't really think we'll be content to sit in our rooms all day, do they?” Katla complained as she laid on Shiro's bed and stared at the ceiling.

Next to her, Lance gave a half-hearted shrug. “Maybe it's a test?”

Katla snorted. “If it is, then it's a stupid one.” She sat up suddenly and looked at Shiro and Keith, who were going through a series of warm-up stretches in lieu of their usual morning routine. “If you give me a few doboshes to look over the sensors on our doors, I bet I could disable it without anyone catching on.”

“I think we can offer more patience than that,” Shiro spoke up. He stood up straight and raised his arms above his head as high as he could before relaxing and letting them fall back to his sides. “I don't like feeling stuck either, but we can't blame them for wanting to be cautious. Wouldn't you be, if the situation was reversed?”

“I guess...” Katla reluctantly grumbled and then flopped back down, jostling Lance.

Shiro was right, but that didn't mean she wanted to hear it.

She supposed she was meant to also feel grateful that they were given nice rooms instead of being put into prison cells where their freedom would truly be stripped away. And she was! But that didn't stop the anxiety from kicking in the longer they sat around.

“If we don't see Hunk during lunch then we'll do some exploring on our own,” Shiro said.

Keith looked at him in surprise. “What if we get caught?”

“Well, I've always been good at talking the two of you out of trouble,” Shiro joked with a fond smile.

His comment eased the tension in the room and even Lance cracked a smile – the first Katla had seen from him since their arrival at the castle. It was a smile that immediately fell when they heard a knock at the door.

None of them were surprised to find Hunk standing on the other side.

“I thought you guys might want to get out and see more of the castle,” he said casually.

Katla sat up in an instant, her ears fanned out in excitement. “Can we, Shiro?”

“I suspect I'll have a mutiny on my hands if I say no,” Shiro remarked. “Keith, Lance, what do you two say?”

Lance heaved a sigh but muttered an agreement, while Keith answered by approaching the bed and helping Katla to her feet, which earned him a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

“Everything alright?” she asked quietly.

Keith nodded and turned his head so no one else could see his lips moving as he whispered: “I'll tell you later.”

With everyone in agreement, Hunk began the tour by leading them back to the kitchen and then onto a new branch in the hallway, at the end of which was an elevator. They rode it up three floors and when the doors opened they found themselves in an odd room.

Katla peered around Keith for a better look at the massive console lining the opposite wall, her eyes wide as she took in the startling amount of buttons and switches and the various touch-screens that covered it. Above the module were wide windows that stretched all the way up to the ceiling, through which an even larger and very empty room could be seen. If Katla had to guess, the lower room took up nearly an entire floor on its own.

Shiro stepped forward, his mouth slightly ajar. “Hunk, this is... Are you sure we're allowed to be here?”

“I don't see the harm in it,” Hunk said with a shrug. He waved them in and then walked right up to the console, which lit with a soft glow as he drew closer. “This is the control room for our holo-deck, which you can see down there. You can use it make your own training exercise or use one of the pre-programmed ones, like the electrified invisible maze.”

“But if it's invisible, how do you keep from getting shocked?” Katla asked.

“Oh, well, it's meant to be a teamwork-building thing. One person is up here with a map and can give directions. If you do it well enough, there's no electrocution,” Hunk explained. “Here, let me show you how it works.”

Katla barely refrained from squealing as she pushed past Shiro and Keith so she could get an up close and personal look at how everything worked.

Hunk quickly proved himself a fantastically patient teacher and he answered all of the questions she had, as well as anything Shiro or Keith asked. He walked her through the steps to creating her own program, which turned out to be relatively easy – so easy that she probably could have figured it out half-asleep and with no prior knowledge of what any button did – and then pulled up a full list of every pre-programmed exercise they had. Everything was meticulously labeled and divided into different categories and each program had different levels of difficulty that were clearly noted.

While Shiro and Keith actively participated in the lesson, Lance hung back away from the group, not saying a word but still listening to everything that was being said.

“That's about it,” Hunk told her. “Want to try it out?”

“Yes!” Katla didn't know it was possible for her voice to go that high, but she was too excited to get her hands on Altean tech to really be embarrassed by that fact. (For something so ancient, it was the nicest piece of technology she had ever laid eyes on.)

“Something simple to start out with,” Shiro advised.

Katla barely took notice of what he was saying as she scrolled through the options, oohing and aahing over the possibilities. “Uh huh.”

“Katla, I'm serious.”

“Okay, okay. Something simple,” she promised with a sigh, resisting the urge to call him a killjoy.

Hunk said something about a track, didn't he? One they could put hurdles on for an extra challenge? Katla's fingers hovered over the selection, wondering if it wasn't too simple. The option of an obstacle course was so much more tempting...

Katla selected the track and, with the exception of Lance, they all crowded around the window to watch as the floor of the holo-deck began to warp, twisting parts of itself up into tall squares and rising slightly in the center of the room so there was a clear indentation where they were meant to run.

“So, how do we get down there?” Shiro asked Hunk.

The answer turned out to be pretty simple: there was a second door to the right of the elevator they rode up on and it opened to a moving staircase they could ride down to the holo-deck. Once there, Hunk showed them a secondary control panel.

“You won't be able to change to a different program from here, but you can change the difficulty or move things around. It also has voice recognition that you can use when one of the combat programs are active. It's a built-in safety feature,” Hunk explained.

“This is all so cool,” Katla breathed, looking around the room with a delighted spark in her amber eyes. She grinned and mischievously tapped Keith on the shoulder before sprinting away. “Catch me if you can!”

Keith's grin was a little more feral as he tore off after her.

Katla laughed as she vaulted over the first hurdle. “Shiro, Lance, come on!”

It took a moment for Shiro to talk Lance into running with them, but he eventually agreed and it wasn't long before the four of them were embroiled in a fierce game of tag while Hunk sat back and watched, a smile on his face.

☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆

Shiro was a little wary as he entered the dining room where he was meeting Allura for lunch. After what happened the last time he tried to talk to her, he was understandably uncomfortable about being alone with her, even with Hunk's assurance that she wanted him there.

He hesitated in the doorway when he saw her already seated at the head of the table.

“Shirotak, thank you for joining me,” she said, giving him a strained smile. “Please sit. Our meal will be out shortly.”

Shiro didn't take his eyes off of her as he crossed the room to his seat. “Is it just the two of us, highness?”

“Yes. Coran has a few things he's looking over on the Bridge and will be taking his meal there. I believe Hunk is eating with your friends,” Allura said. “I thought this would be a good opportunity for the two of us to talk and... and I wanted to apologize for my behavior.”

It was the sincerity in her voice that put Shiro more at ease. “Thank you. I can't imagine that it was easy to wake and find yourself surrounded by strangers. Is there anything we can do to help you feel more comfortable?”

“I think getting to talk will help immensely,” Allura responded. “But first, we should eat.”

As if on cue, a pair of kitchen droids rolled into the room and served each of them a plate of food. Shiro was glad that there wasn't a single spoonful of food goo in sight. (But then again, Hunk had told them there was plenty of fresh food to be found on the planet, so was it really such a surprise?)

Shiro waited until Allura took her first bite and then dug into his.

Most of their meal was spent in silence, but Shiro didn't mind the time to think over all of the things he wanted to say to her, as well as to determine what he was allowed to say. Obviously, he'd have to reveal a few things. There was only so long they could keep the Blade of Marmora a secret before someone started to get suspicious, though he was pretty sure he could get away with only hinting towards a secret organization for the moment.

By the time they finished eating, Shiro had most of a plan. For the rest, he'd just have to wing it.

“I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you to join me,” Allura said as the droids cleared away their empty plates. “The truth is, I don't know what to think about this whole situation. I know there's a reason why the Red Lion brought you here, but I don't understand why it's specifically the four of you. The original paladins all knew each other beforehand, so maybe that's part of the prerequisite? But that doesn't explain why there are only four of you and not five...” She trailed off, her gaze distant.

Shiro wondered how much of that she really meant to say. After a few ticks had passed and she didn't continue speaking, he said “I don't have an answer for that.”

Allura blinked and sat up a little straighter as she refocused on the conversation. “Then perhaps a question that you will be able to answer: do you know how the war began?”

“Growing up, I was taught that the Altean king declared war upon the Galra when he ordered the destruction of Daibazaal and that the retaliation of Zarkon and his forces was justified. I later learned that it was all a lie, but we don't know the full truth of things either,” Shiro paused, watching as Allura's expression softened from outright rage to simple indignation.

“My father was a general in Zarkon's army. My mother was convinced of the might and righteousness of the Empire, like many are, and she raised me to believe the same. It was something she believed in until they tried to take me from her.

“It's tradition for the firstborn to begin training at a young age. More than tradition, actually. It's an unspoken requirement that most follow without question. My mother hoped that because of my father's status as a general, as well as the fact that I was the only cub she was able to have, they would allow me to stay with her instead. The army disagreed. My mother ran and took me with her. She didn't get far.”

Shiro hadn't intended on divulging his past to her, but judging from the horrified expression on Allura's face, it was the right way to go. At least she was listening.

“That was the day my faith in the Empire was broken. From that moment on, I began to see them as they truly were and I did everything in my power to become too troublesome to keep around. I knew that one day I would be too old to stay in training and they would send me out whether they thought I was ready or not. When that day came, I would be able to sneak away and they would be too thankful that I was gone to go looking for me. But then came a day when I did something exceptionally... foolish.

“I saved the life of a commanding officer. I can't even say why I did it. In-fighting is common in the Empire and it's not unusual for them to be to the death, but when I saw someone try to sneak up behind her I just... moved. It's how I earned this,” Shiro tapped the bridge of his nose, where his scar cut across. “In return, Ranzaria saved me from my destructive spiral, and eventually, she introduced me to a group dedicated to ending Zarkon's reign of fear and subjugation. I've been with them ever since.”

“Shirotak, I... I'm so sorry,” Allura murmured.

“It was a long time ago, highness, and I would not be the person I am today had I not gone through those experiences,” Shiro said. “But back to your original question, no one knows how the war truly began. The Empire has done everything in their power to obscure the truth and anyone who did know died a long time ago. At least, until the three of you woke up.”

Allura bit her lip and lowered her gaze to the table. “We were allies, once. It... it is true that my father ordered the destruction of Daibazaal, but it was not intended to be an act of war, but of prevention. Sometime before I was born, a meteor struck the surface of Daibazaal and when it was extracted, it revealed a terrible rift that penetrated deep into the core of the planet. For a while, it merely seemed to be an anomaly and was carefully studied by a few hand-picked alchemists, but as time went on they began to realize that it was destabilizing the entire planet. Left unchecked, the rift would have eventually ripped Daibazaal apart and, after that, continued to spread to encompass the entire universe. Destroying Daibazaal was the only way to seal it and prevent such a catastrophe.”

Shiro frowned. “I feel like I'm missing something. Shouldn't it have been up to Zarkon to give that order?”

“Unfortunately, it was not our first attempt at closing the rift.”

Shiro quietly listened as Allura told the whole sad story about trying to use something called “Voltron” to seal the rift and how they had only succeeded in increasing it tenfold, as well as costing the lives of two people – Emperor Zarkon and his wife, Empress Honerva. In the midst of the chaos left from Zarkon's death, King Alfor did his best to maintain control and used his role as head of the Galactic Alliance to order the evacuation and destruction of Daibazaal.

“Had the situation been reversed, it would have been well within Zarkon's rights to do the same,” Allura said, though it pained her to admit it. “Of course, everything went wrong after that. Zarkon was somehow resurrected. My father thought it had something to do with the rift, though we never knew for certain. He declared war on Altea and the rest of our alliance, destroying each of us one-by-one.”

She clenched her hands and glared at the surface of the table. “I never imagined the war would go on for so long. I- I should have fought harder to use the Lions and fight back! If I'd only tried a little harder-!” Her voice broke as a single tear fell from her eyes. She furiously wiped it away and lifted her head. “No longer. This is our second chance and I will not let it go by. I want to know where you stand, Shirotak.”

“We stand against Zarkon and his forces,” Shiro answered, meeting her eyes. “We stand with you.”

☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆

Coran knew that he promised Allura that he wouldn't pull an all-nighter to reconfigure the navigation system, but what harm would it do to check on one last little thing while the system sorted itself off. It wasn't like he'd be able to sleep until he knew why the holo-deck was using extra energy anyway. He'd just pop over to the control room for a quick look and then go to bed.

He looked around the Bridge one last time, checked the progress bar for the seventh time in as many doboshes, and then reluctantly left to begin his trek to his room.

The holo-deck was only a brief detour on his path and Coran swore that he wouldn't stay long. He entered the command room and had to take a moment to comprehend what he was seeing. It was more than just a little problem. The console was fully activated, as though someone was running a program at that very moment.

“Impossible!” Coran said, rushing forward. Allura had gone to bed vargas ago and Hunk wasn't known for skipping out on sleep, or for frequenting the holo-deck. He was about to begin methodically shutting everything down when he happened to glance through the window and into the room below.

Two of the Galra were there. One was the boy with unusual black hair and the other was the girl. They were playing around on one of the climbing courses, occasionally dropping to a cushioned mat below in order to start all over.

Coran found himself relaxing the longer he watched them play. It was as they dropped to the mat at the same time and began a game of chase across the floor, breathlessly giggling, that Coran realized it was an oddly familiar sight.

A long time ago, he'd been blessed enough to witness the beginning of a truly great romance. It was one full of laughter and life and only grew more beautiful once Alfor was able to catch his beloved princess. A love that was cut tragically short.

In the room below, the boy caught up to the girl and pulled her into his arms. His balance must have gotten knocked off because they went down in a tangled heap, huge smiles upon their faces.

Coran couldn't bring himself to interrupt. Eventually, he dragged himself away from the window and off to his room. His dreams that night were full of his memories of happier days when Alfor wasn't yet king and still trying to find the right way to woo the future queen.

#voltron #kidge #kidgemas #fanfiction #soul of a lion #galra shiro #half galra keith #half galra pidge #altean lance #altean hunk #team voltron slowly starts to come to an understanding

[mochi-and-indigo]

You’re mine...

Joseph x Reader

Word count: 3609

Triggers: Mention of blood

A/N: Hi! This is our first story writing together and we are both very proud of it. We hope that you like it as much as we do. Also if there are any triggers we left out please tell us so we can put it in!

Joseph gets overprotective of Y/N when he realized who they are.

Normally all stories start with a tragic beginning and well I guess this one is no different. My name is Y/N and let me get you caught up on how my life became something worse than a nightmare. As a kid, my mother and father were always quite busy taking care of my siblings. I'd hardly get to talk with my parents and they seemed to think it was just due to me being antisocial. It hurt me deep down but I got past it by reading books and learning how to paint. Sure that may sound cliche, but it's what I did to pass time.

A couple of weeks before my 23rd birthday, a strange letter appeared. The letter was sealed with a wax stamp as the paper was also tied together with twine. That wasn't the only strange thing about the envelope..It didn´t have an address.

The letter was an offer to join a game of cat and mouse. A game where survivors run away from hunters and must decode ciphers in order to open a gate to escape. I originally thought it would be just a small joke so I decided to go to where the letter had told me. Along with, I had nothing else better to do and I was bored with my current life.

The manor was dark and gloomy, it almost appeared to be rundown and maybe abandoned. Once I  built up enough courage, I stepped inside. I noticed the beautifully furnished manor, from the hand railings to the paintings. It was hard to believe this manor was the same as the one outside. “Hello?” I called out. A shorter woman with a straw hat peeked her head through the door. “Hey, we’re in here!” The woman said as she motioned me to go into the room as well. When I entered the room, I saw an array of strange looking people. They varied in color themes, shapes, and smells. The woman wearing the straw hat gave me a wide smile. “You must be a new survivor! My name is Emma Woods, I am the gardener of the manor!” 

Her cheerful attitude caught you slightly off guard. “Hello,Emma. I am Y/n L/n. I currently don't know what I am to the manor.” Everyone in what I assumed to be the dining room, began to go round and introduce themselves. Out of everyone, a certain someone caught my eye. It was a man with an owl on his shoulder. He wore a blindfold over his eyes which caused me to question how the man could see.

I noticed his owl had been staring at me for quite a while so I decided to approach him. He looked like he was a tad bit startled as I walked to him. His owl looked away from me as he began to speak. “Hello, welcome to the manor. My name is Eli as you heard earlier, I am the Seer, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He gave me a small smile as he extended his gloved hand out to me. I took his hand and shook it. “It's A pleasure to meet you as well, Eli.” His owl let out a small hoot, as if it were trying to also say hello. I nodded towards the owl trying to show that I knew what it was saying, even though I didn’t have one small clue at what I was supposed to do.

I give him a small smile before Emma starts to drag me off to the room I was staying in. I wish I could have seen Eli for even a second more but it was already too late since Emma pushed me into the room I was assigned. I sighed softly to myself as Emma started to explain the rules with the manor which got me a bit sad since I wouldn’t be able to talk to my parents anymore. Not to mention I did leave a note saying I ran away so they probably think I’m dead by now. Whoops. Emma explained everything to me, which took an hour since I’m not that smart when it comes to human interaction and learning new things. I started to unpack all my things in the room I was in before going down to the dining room to eat dinner.

Joseph´s POV

I was enjoying a nice glass of tea in the library when all of a sudden Jack rushed into the room with Michiko behind him. “The baron says there is a new survivor joining. Want to go try and find out more information on the newcomer?” I rolled my eyes at the taller male. “No thank you. I’d rather not pry into other people's business, unlike you.” Jack sent me a small glare as I heard Michiko whisper about him owning her money. I went back to peacefully drinking tea until Mary walked in, casually complaining about something I had no interest in. “AND NEXT THING I KNOW, I AM GETTING SHOT BY TWO PUTAIN DE FLARE GUNS!” Mary cursed. Angry at what just happened to her while throwing her glass shards across the room, breaking a window in front of me. 

“Mary, Darling calm down please we don’t need to have 10 more broken windows like yesterday” I sigh while holding my forehead, too annoyed and stressed to deal with her at the moment. Mary shot me a glare. “You cannot tell me what to do! I am a Queen and you are a mere peasant compared to me!” Mary spat as she started to grab her shoe before throwing it at me but I merely dodged it in a second. “Mary I am not a peasant. Don’t forget how I was a Dukel.” I explained. Mary scoffed and stomped out of the room like usual. As I watched her leave I contemplated throwing my teacup at her. 

“How dare you!?” Mary screamed as loud as she could. Making the ground feel like it shook beneath me as I realized that I had messed up. I stood up as fast as I could before running out of the room, jumping through the broken window she had created with her broken shard and headed for the roof. Mary cursed loudly at me from the Library room as I sigh knowing she would never dare follow me to the roof. 

While sitting on the roof, I peered into a window on the survivors side of the manor only to see a room that was recently vacant, filled with clothing and bedsheets. On top of what appeared to be fresh bed sheets laid a survivor with h/l h/c hair sleeping peacefully. Even from a distance I could tell that this must be the new survivor Jack was trying to get to know. I grew interested in who this person was so I headed back down to the dining room where everyone was to try and find Jack. With just enough luck I found him talking to Robbie and Yima trying to teach them to stop stealing the cookies that Yidrah made for everyone. 

“Jack!” I called out to him causing him to turn his head towards me but soon shot a glare at my face. “What do you want, George Washington?” He said quite aggressively in a teasing way as I sighed and motioned for him to follow me outside, “I want to know more about the new survivor you were speaking of.” After saying that Jack quickly shot up from his chair, dragging me outside with a bright smile, “I’ll tell you everything I know!” He exclaimed. I softly smiled as Jack explained to me that the new survivor was none other than y/n. I felt something pounding in my chest the moment he spoke their name. A strange feeling in my stomach. Was this what people meant when they said there were butterflies in their stomach. Wait, no… That isn’t it, the word is flustered. 

I glanced out the nearest window that I could see to try and figure out if I could see their room from where I was. “Dang it…” I mumbled under my breath as I couldn’t see their room so I quickly ran up to my room, leaving Jack confused on what was happening. I slammed open my window to see if I could see across the yard to the survivors manor, to their room. Surely enough I could see them, sitting on a chair that was quite comfortable to what they’ve mentioned in my past life. Reading one of their favorite books, a soft smile as their eyes filled with excitement with each word they read as if they haven’t read the same book for the one millionth time. I softly smiled at what they were doing before they looked up at me, making eye contact for a second as I jumped back panicky. Falling on the floor hard as I covered my face with my hands, praying, wishing, hoping. They didn’t really see me.

 “Joseph are you o-... Kay-?” Mary asked as she had barged into my room, seeing how pathetic I was now. Stuck on the ground as it felt like something was paralyzing me as my face felt like it was on fire that needed to be put out. Mary suddenly grew a large grin, that I knew wasn’t a good thing as she walked over to the window I was just at and waved to y/n. I panicked more, pulling on her legs for her to get down but she wouldn’t budge. “Mary get down!!”

“Calm down lover boy, if you pull me down they’ll worry” Mary said between her teeth as she was smiling. “I see you have a little crush on y/n hm?” Mary said as I knew she was teasing me. I wouldn’t let her tease me but I was too vulnerable not to be as I sat in the corner of the room and nodded. Mary looked over to me, shocked at how I was acting as she left the window and crotched in front of me. “Joseph… You actually like something other than me?” Mary said in an offended tone. 

I panicked again as she started to pout and made this whole situation worse for my mind but then I realized that I could calm down. Having her focus on herself would make her forget me staring at y/n and everything would be ok. Until she randomly stopped talking and started to walk out. Before she closed the door she smirked darkly at me and said, “Also,” she started as she leaned against the door frame, “Don’t forget you have a match with Y/N~” I started to panic again before hearing her evil laughter echo through the empty halls of the manor.

The Match: y/n’s pov

My first ever match. When I tell you I could feel my heart drop to my stomach, I mean it. I only agreed to this whole chaotic game thinking it was all some stupid joke, but it turns out it wasn’t. I was matched with Eli, Emily and Emma. Emma was trying to convince me that it would all turn out ok if I stuck with her or Emily but what was all about to happen couldn’t settle down in the back of my brain. I started to have a slight panic attack which is when Eli touched my shoulder and told me, “It’ll be ok y/n, you’ll do great.” with a soft smile which soon made me happy and calm down. Little did I know, a certain photographer had seen everything that had just occurred. 

Joseph’s Pov

Mary´s words hadn't left my head all morning. As soon as the match began I felt a bead of sweat run down my forehead, until I spotted the worst thing possible. A certain Seer was putting his hands on something that was not his. I quickly activated my camera world and quickly incopacitated the Seer´s mirror image. It was strange for I did not terrorshock the Seer and yet he went down in one hit. That is when I realized how tightly of a grip I had on my sword. I knew I was upset but.. Why was I this upset? 

Something felt off but oddly enough it felt right. It felt as though I should be happy the Seer went down in one single hit. As I chaired the mirror image, my camera world collapsed leaving the Seer downed in some place on the map. As the camera world disappeared I could see a trail of blood that came from the Seer. Following it before it disappeared I see Y/N healing him as fast as they could with him helping them. Seeing that in front of my eyes made me mad yet happy and in love to know that Y/N cared about others. As I slowly approached them I mumbled, “I’m sorry my love” before terror shocking them. A loud, painful scream leaving their soft, light peach lips as I immediately regret it. Wanting to hold them close to my body but I couldn’t as I knew I had a job.

I picked up the Seer as I placed him down in a nearby chair, wanting him to get sent back already so I could have Y/N all to myself. As I glance over to where Y/N was before, they weren’t there. I started to panic as I looked all around for them before running off to search for them. 

Y/N’s Pov

Emily had told me she made a plan with Emma as Joseph was looking for me. Emily had helped me over to a huge rock before healing me as fast as I’ve ever seen someone heal. Emily stood up and told me to run across the map to the cipher behind the wall that was in my sight. I nodded to show I understood as I started to run as fast as I could. Scared to get caught as Emily glanced over at Emma and gave her a thumbs up to signal it was time for phase two. 

Emma smiled widely as she took off running to the rocket chair, letting Eli go before Joseph ran over to them and tried to hit Emma since Eli had run towards me. Emma was teasing the hunter behind the pallet she had knocked over before Joseph destroyed it and Emma knew she was in trouble. Emma started to run fast as Emily jumped in and took Emma’s spot, getting hit by the hunter before grabbing Emma’s hand and hid with her behind a large wall.

Knowing Emma, Emily and Eli were safe made me feel better but didn’t help with what had just happened as I started to decode the cipher machine that was in front of me the best I could before I messed up and started to panic.I looked around to see if anyone was around as I remembered what Eli said, “Whenever you mess up make sure to go hide somewhere but somewhere where you can watch him go to the cipher and leave completely” which is what I did. I looked around for something to hide in but I couldn’t find a good hiding spot other than a tall, bright orange, rusted locker. I opened it quickly and climbed inside as I heard heavy footsteps slowly approach. 

Through the bars of the locker, I saw Joseph look around, wearing a small glare. I quickly covered my mouth so I wouldn't make any noise. There was a small knock on the door before the door to the locker flew open. I tumbled out of the locker and began to fall until a strong pair of arms caught me. “There you are, mon chéri.~” The photographer cooed. I began to struggle out of his grip as he picked me up instead of using the balloons like I saw him do to Eli. “Put me down!” I scream as I had my eyes closed, too scared to look up at the photographer. 

“Now why would I do that Y/N? I thought you would remember me by now” He spoke into my ear as it sent shivers down my spine. I shook my head as I looked up at him, “Why would I remember someone like you” I asked which I soon regret. Anger and hatred filled Joseph's eyes as he dropped me somewhere where we both knew no one would find as he sat down in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders. “Do you not remember?... Me?” He asked in hope I would say yes but I shook my head from left to right. Nothing coming to mind until he said his name, “Joseph Desaulniers? Does this name not ring a bell..?” 

My eyes widen as wide as they have before as I try to stand up and back away before I feel a shooting pain go up from my back to my head. Falling back onto the ground, holding my head as he pulled me to his lap as he had a soft smile. “Don’t try to move you’ll hurt yourself mon chéri” I sigh softly out of pain as he was holding me like I was his child. No, as I was his wife which confused me but I didn’t move because I didn’t want to get hurt.

“Let me go Joseph…” I mumbled as he shook his head fast, “Can’t do that, you're mine and you know this so tell me… Why did you run away and disappear?” I sat there in silence as I looked up at him. “I don’t know… I wanted freedom from everything. No one cared about me-” I started before he interrupted and said, “I cared about you, I was going to ask you to marry me you know. But you ran away before I could do so…” I gave Joseph a small glare. “And I would have declined. I didn't nor do I now love you. You were always busy with the other woman and men at the dances. I love Claude, not you. Claude was there for me, not you. You never made time for me. You treated me like a child!” I spat as I crossed my arms and looked away from him. 

“I always made ti-” He started but I didn’t let him finish. “Don’t you even dare say you made time for me and never treated me like a child because you did and you know it! I ran away because no one cared or noticed! I bet no one even went on a search for little old me!!” By Joseph’s silence I could tell that I was right. No one came looking for me so what even was the point to stay here. When I tried to stand up Joseph stopped me  and shook his head from left to right showing that he didn’t want me to go. Holding me softly against his body I closed my eyes with a soft sigh leaving my lips. “You died so what was the point?”

“The point was that you could have told me.” Joseph closed his eyes too as he started to braid my hair carefully like he used to. “You never listened.”

“If you told me that it was this bad I would have, I’m sorry for never spending time with you and I’ll fix that if you give me another chance.” he started, trying to get me to give him a second chance but it was too late. We were both trapped in this new game and he had one job, kill me and send me back to the manor as for mine was to doge him and escape with my teammates. “Joseph I can’t give you another chance. You know what situation we´re in and if I ever wanted too I wouldn't because I’m done with being ignored. You need to understand that.”

Joseph’s eyes darkened. “Listen, I am trying my best to be nice here mon chéri.” He said in almost a threatening tone. He began to yank my hair while braiding it. “And alas, my dear brother Claude had passed away after you left.” I noticed his eyes soften at the mention of Claude´s name. “He..died..?” I could feel my heart shatter into thousands of pieces. The only person who paid attention to me and saw me for me was dead. 

“Even if Claude were alive,” Joseph continued, “you wouldn't like him anymore. After your disappearance, he changed. He had become more rude and hostile.” I looked up at the photographer who was now fixing the bow in his hair. “Claude would never. You’re nothing but a dirty liar!” I shouted at the photographer. Just then, an alarm rang through the map. The last cipher had been popped. I quickly shot up from Joseph’s grip, running towards the exit gate but almost falling in the process. I could feel Joseph’s glare burn the back of my head as he chased after me. I luckily made it to the exit gate where Eli was as he ran over to me and began to try to open the gate. The gate wouldn't budge. My only escape from this chaos wouldn't let me leave. Joseph stuck Eli hard with his sword before walking off with Eli in the balloons. Making sure to step on Eli’s back hard as he walked away from me. “If I can’t have you,no one can.”

#joseph #josephidv #joseph identity v #mary #maryidentity #maryidentityv #identityv #identity v fanfic #y/n #joseph x y/n

[seeds-and-sins]

The Seeds accepting you, a young kid, into their family would be like...

• To the surprise of others, cult members and sinners alike, your acceptance into the family happened the moment you met them.

• Your drunk father was being the abusive piece of shit he was at one of Joseph's Sermons and Jacob Seed intervened without hesitation.

• Within weeks John Seed found a way to legally remove you from your father's custody and assign the family as your permanent guardians.

• John pulled some strings even further and your father was sent to prison for child abuse. Needless to say, you won't see him for a while.

• The Seed siblings, at first, had a hard time figuring out who you would live with.

• So you had a room at each of their abodes, free to live with any one of them, whenever you so chose.

• John would spoil you with an endless array of gifts and excessive affectionate hugs and forehead kisses. He would take you flying in his plane whenever you stayed over at his ranch. He even let you fly it one time, but don't tell Joseph.

• Family dinners every friday night were your favorite.

• John would make the meal and it would suck, but nobody wanted to hurt his feelings, so he never would know.

• Jacob would secretly pass his food down to his wolf sitting under the table, motioning for you to be quiet about it with a wink.

• Family conversations sometimes turning into bickering...

• "Unicorns are real! Okay?! The Bible says so!"

• Joseph and you had a garden together that the both of you would work on when you were at his compound. He would read scripture to you, teach you lessons about the world, and talk to you about the collapse.

• Jacob was more about tough love. He had high expectations of you in terms of being efficient when it came to protecting yourself, surviving in the wilderness, and acknowledging your surroundings. (But every now and again, he would allow you to sleep in his arms if you had a nightmare about your abuse, or were afraid).

• Faith, you went to when you had emotional issues, or questions, or when you wanted female company. You both would have sleepovers and she would give you all the sweets you could imagine.

• Family photos where they all are extra and try to get single photos with you. (There might be a fight over who is the favorite parent, but Jacob doesn't call himself parent as much he does guardian).

• Joseph has one really cute photo of John, Jacob and you, that he hides in his journal. It was the day you got officially baptized and as Jacob was trying to help you out of the river, John and you yanked him in.

• You started playing basketball at your highschool, now that your father was gone you had more confidence to explore your interests. And the Seeds were more than enthusiastic about you being more active and social.

• At home games, they would be the ones cheering for you in the stands, the loudest spectators, even Jacob would participate in the madness (mainly to threaten the referee for calling fouls on you).

• Jacob and John worked with you often to make sure that you were the best player on the team. Jacob more so, would force you to train as much as possible.

• The coach let Jacob take over practice one time, since he usually watched on the sidelines. No one made it to the end of pratice, except for you.

• One of your fellow team mates going, "I hope your dad never runs practice ever again."

• Jacob yelling, "Cull the herd!", aggressively, anytime you got the ball.

• Joseph pulling you aside at half time and explaining, "My child, remember when I said violence wasn't the answer? Yes, well, this might be the one time where I am wrong."

• John bragging about you to the opposing team's parents, "Oh look! There they go again! Out running all of your children and scoring on them."

• Your sophmore year you almost failed math, you had good grades in your other classes, but the teacher wouldn't budge. It was your worst subject.

• At away games, it was almost like the whole cult was there to cheer you on. They would take two massive buses of members who would come see you play.

• Your math teacher never called for a parent-teacher conference ever again. Your grade became a C shortly after that meeting.

• John calling your math teacher and saying, "It would be a shame if (insert random blackmail information) became public."

• You being the best in PE class, with none of the kids being able to catch up, because Jacob Seed trained you every early morning. You were a force to be reckoned with.

• When you started dating, the whole family was very protective of you.

• Jacob and John were more direct when it came to threatening your boyfriend/girlfriend about being good to you.

• "If you try anything, I will carve the sin from your flesh myself. No one will be able to save you, and when I am done with you, well..." John's words fading into a deep chuckle, with that leering smile on his expression.

• Jacob crossed arms, stern posture, "Hmm, I hope you know where you belong, you pathetic weak little-" He stopped at Joseph's glare, "Especially where your hands belong, or else you'll lose'em."

• Your first ex ended up finding snakes in their pillow case before they went to bed one night. Jacob swore 'he had nothing to do with it' and John couldn't stop smiling.

• Faith and Joseph were sweet and kind, but their words had a warning lurking beneath them.

• "My child, you are so full of life. I would be very disappointed should something happen that would require that life to be slowly taken from you. I will pray for you." And Joseph traced a cross onto their forehead, which they couldn't have know that that meant they were marked.

• "It's so nice to know that they think you deserve them." Faith placing a hand on her chest, mockingly being kind to your date. "They are so giving and genuine aren't they? Let's hope they are right... for your sake."

• Your boyfriend/girlfriend had to ask permission before taking you to the local drive in.

• Jacob and John stopping you before you leave, "Don't forget that one neck breaking move that I showed you" and "Do you have that knife that I gave you last Christmas".

• When they give you the talk, Jacob was completely absent from the conversation, John wouldn't stop nervously pacing, and Faith and Joseph were mainly doing the talking.

• Jacob piping in at the end, to Joseph's aggravation, "Just make sure you wrap it up, kid."

• "Only when married can two partners share eachother in such an intimate and loving embrace," Joseph explains.

• Jacob admitting, "Ya'know kid, I actually don't mind having you around, and I don't like having anybody around."

• Joseph always saying, "After I lost my daughter, I never thought the Lord would gift me with another child, and then... and then we found you."

• Take your kid to work day, where John takes you to one of the Project's many court hearings at the Missoula courthouse.

• "My daughter/son would be a better lawyer than you ever could be and they haven't even become a lawyer yet."

• All the other cult members practically babysitting you, or watching your back while the Seeds did the Lord's work.

• Jacob giving you your very own Judge, that follows you around the Veteran's Center and elsewhere when he is busy.

• John Seed tried to cook for you one time and it came out horrible, so you both just started get pre-made meals in the mail.

• Prom night at the Hope County Highschool was a night to remember because John, Joseph, Jacob, and Faith all chaperoned.

• When no one wanted to dance with you in fear of your four parents, the Seeds each had one dance with you.

• John, Faith, and you pranked Jacob into beating up your PE teacher, with a disapproving Joseph on the sidelines.

• You all ended up back at the ranch anyways, for a family dinner.

• When you graduated high school, John Seed revealed his secret stash of wine to you, "You are old enough in my book."

• You having trouble figuring out what you want to do in life.

• "Whatever you do, whether its here with us, or not, we will support you."

• Jacob swelling with pride when you join the Army (but secretly afraid because he doesn't want you to go through what he went through), John nearly crying when you explain you want to become a JAG, and be a lawyer like him.

• John calling you to talk about the family and complain, Jacob rarely calling or accepting your phone calls (he doesn't like phones so much, but you know he cares), Joseph and you communicate through letters, and Faith always FaceTimes or Skypes you.

• When the first seal is broken, the Family urges you to return home to help prepare for the collapse.

• Even as you rushed to get back, there was not enough time.

• You don't make it back before the collapse and end up stuck in someone else's bunker, an individual that you soon come to be friends with.

• Joseph gives you a frantic welcome, crying and holding you in his vice grasp. He explains what happened, how Jacob, John and Faith were killed.

• When the seven years ends, you head straight to Hope County, your bunk mate and you head your separate ways. You look for your family with all of the energy you have, and you find them. There is only one left.

• And then you cry and feel guilty, because you blame yourself for not getting back in time. But Joseph talks you out of that guilt and explains to you that what we do now will be in their honor.

• Ethan being slightly jealous when Joseph shows you more love and affection than him.

• Joseph and you talk about them often.

• And he introduces you to the man you would call your brother, Ethan.

• Together, the three of you try to build what your family had always wanted.

• Joseph stating with so much appreciation and gratefulness in his voice, "You came back safe to me, you came back home. I am proud of you, and John, Jacob, and Faith would be so proud of you too."

• And you never once realized that the Judge was, in fact, the murderer of your beloved parents.

• At least you had Joseph and Ethan...

• Since the day Jacob punched your dad across the jaw in the church, "I know what it's like. No one will ever touch you like that ever again", he promised.

• The day that John stood in a court room and fought for you, "You are one of us now, and we Seeds protect eachother."

• The day that Joseph wrapped a blanket around you, "I knew you would come to us, to be part of our family."

• And the day that Faith held you in her loving embrace, "Everything happens for a reason, my little flower."

• That was the day you became a Seed.

#jacob seed #john seed #joseph seed #faith seed #farcry 5 #far cry deputy #reader #growing up #guardianship #taking care #the Seeds basically raise you #abusive relationship with biological father #Jacob saves you #sad ending