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kasagia · 4 months

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Can't catch me now...

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x grisha! reader Summary: The Hunger Games in Ravka. 12 districts. 12 tributes. 12 mentors. 11 young people die every year. 1 winner. Aleksander was a mentor to many. But only your face will haunt him for centuries. Inspired by: The Hunger Games. I changed the world of both of them a bit. I was supposed to write something else, but this came to my mind and... Word Count: 4,9k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist PART 2

"The tribute from District 12! Y/N Y/L/N!"

You doubt you will ever forget this day. Or the terrified faces of Alina and Mal when the Peacekeepers pulled you out of the row and pushed you towards the stage.

An orphan from Kerazmin was sent to the Hunger Games for certain death.

The Hunger Games are held annually to commemorate the Great Battle of Ravka, in which Grisha and the inhabitants of Ravka took part. The House of Lantsov took over the country and strengthened its position by killing the rebels with the help of Grisha, led by the Darkling.

The Darkling helped them in exchange for a promise that no Grisha would ever suffer at the hands of Ravka's rulers again. His successors created the Little Palace, a safe haven for Grisha. The Lanstovs, on the other hand, continued the annual killing of 11 children from the Ravka districts. They put on a show for the people, the snobbish nobility, and the Grisha, who gloated over how the children of their captors were now fighting for their lives in the arena as they used to in the Old Ravka.

If it weren't for the Darkling's help, the world would be different.

Lantsov would not have come to power. The fold would not exist. And the Hunger Games would never have happened.

"12. We are in captial." you smile thankfully and nod to the boy from District 11.

You disembark with the other tybutes, and each of you holds your breath as you see the gates of Os Alta in the distance. Your district was poor, like mainly all of them, and Karemzin was certainly not the most beautiful. But the forest around the city gave you a strange feeling of peace. Home.

"Get in line! You will be checked by medics! We don't want any pandemics in the capital because we brought some rats to play with."

Each of you is bursting with anger at the soldier's words. But with so many Peacekeepers around you, none are brave enough to disobey orders.

You're last in line. You are waiting for a woman to approach you. You know she is Grisha from her clothes—a beautiful red kefta. You feel nauseous as the woman's hands touch your forehead, but you stand still and straight. You definitely won't show them you're scared, especially Grisha.

Grisha frowns. He nods at the peacekeeper. You feel yourself turning pale, your hands clasped behind your back, shaking slightly as you realise something is wrong. You create various scenarios in your head, and when Peacekeeper reaches for something attached to his hip, you already say goodbye to life. You raise your eyebrows in surprise when he pulls out something else instead of a gun.

"I'm not a Grisha." you say firmly, recognising the device the Grisha's use to test if someone has the ability to practice their 'little science'. "I was examined when I was young."

"We shall see." the healer who checked you says.

She nods at the soldiers. You are pushed into carriages. 6 people to one. You're a bit cramped, but it's better than sharing one carriage. You take the opportunity to fall asleep, resting your head against the window, as the quiet conversations and the sound of squeaking wheels hitting the path in the forest lull you to sleep.

You gather in a large room that is too over-decorated for your taste. You were bathed and changed into new clothes, all to appear before the king and the inhabitants of the capital.

You stand tense, playing with the sleeves of your dress. You've watched the Hunger Games once. The tybutits gathered in the great hall before the king and presented their image to Ravka and its inhabitants. The one who sold best gained the most sponsors. And therefore, food, water, medicines, and weapons in the arena.

But apart from the soldiers, there was no one around you.

You shiver slightly when suddenly the door bursts open and several soldiers dressed in black enter. The oprichniki. You swallow as, between them, you see the Darkling himself.

You saw him once in the newspaper at Prince Vasily's funeral.

He was terrifying.

There was an aura of power and composure around him. He dominated a room full of people, and seeing him in person only strengthened your belief that the man in front of you was pure danger and unlimited power.

Rumours spread throughout the country that he would one day depose Lantsovs from the throne. And no one would be surprised if someone from the Darkling's family line finally came to power.

"General Kirigan!" the oprichnik shouts.

The soldiers salute him, and some of the tributes bow. You stand straight, watching him carefully as he slowly walks towards the centre of the room. He stands before you and looks at you all. His dark eyes meet yours in a burning gaze a few moments longer than the rest. He clears his throat, breaking the absolute silence, and begins his speech.

"It is a great honour to take part in the Hunger Games. It is an even greater honour to survive them and become a resident of Os Alta, so do not waste your chance. You will soon go to a meeting with your mentors and then to the throne room, where the king will officially open this year's Hunger Games. You will have two weeks to prepare for entering the arena. But before that, like every year, we will take you through a small test. Don't worry, it will only take a moment." He claps his hands, making some of you tremble. He chuckles, darkly amused, and looks at you one by one again. "Who's first? Maybe District 1?"

Everyone's eyes turn to the little boy. The kid is maybe 12 years old, no more. On shaky legs, he approaches the Darkling. You clench your jaw as you watch the amusement in the peacekeepers' eyes. At least the Darkling and his people had the decency not to scare the boy more or make fun of him.

The Darkling pierces his skin with his ring, creating a small wound. The boy lets out a small squeal of pain but doesn't remove his hand. The Darkling whispers something to him and gives him his black handkerchief. The boy takes it hesitantly, thanks it, presses it to the wound, and returns to his place in line.

And so on. Some come back with a larger wound on their arm, others with a slight bite, like a little boy. Until it's your turn.

You approach the Darkling, staring at the window behind him and the view of the forest from which you came here. You stand in front of him, waiting for him to pierce your skin. But it's not like that. An uncomfortable, disquieting silence descends. You shift your gaze to him and can't help but shiver as you find his dark irises staring intently at you.

"What are you?" he asks, still staring at you, searching for something you can't quite place. You don't know why he does it. He didn't speak to the rest of the tibutes.

"Y/N Y/L/N from district 12." you answer his strange question, proud that your voice isn't hoarse. The last time you drank water was three days ago.

He smirks at your response and at the fact that you keep his gaze on you, unlike the rest of the people who stood in front of him. He is partly disappointed that you're doing it. He decides it would be nice to grab your chin and force you to look into his eyes. But your supposedly brave attitude is a pleasant refreshment for him.

"I asked you… what are you?" he repeats it in a monotone tone of voice.

"This year's tribute, sir." you say, confused, not knowing what exactly he wants to hear from you or what he is asking you about.

"That I can see. Answer the question. WHAT are you?" he insists and you can't find a good answer.

An orphan? Nobody's daughter? A friend?

"I... no one." you say, staring into his dark eyes like hypnotised.

You feel incredibly stupid and tremble as the soldiers' laughter echoes throughout the room.

But the Darkling doesn't join them, there's no trace of amusement in his eyes, now almost black as his shadows, as he watches you carefully.

He's judging you. You don't know why his attention is fully on you or why he needs someone… as worthless as you, but everything changes the moment he raises his hands and summons his shadows.

They surround the soldiers, immediately silencing them, and there is a deafening silence in the room again. You feel like it's just you and him and no one else.

"Interesting... we shall see and find out." he gently brushes his finger against your wrist. "Now, your sleeve, if you allow."

He doesn't wait for your answer or movement and rolls up the sleeve of your dress himself, with a carefulness that amazes you. The Darkling is known for many things, but certainly not for any form of gentleness.

You wait for the pain that will come from his ring piercing your skin. But the wound he gives you is not that terrible compared to others he made for the rest of the tributes. And the strangest thing about it all is that not a single drop of blood leaks from it.

You feel a strange warmth spread throughout your body where he touches you. He tightens his grip on your shoulder more, as if he's searching for something. The warmth is spreading deeper within you until suddenly you feel it piercing right through your heart.

You close your eyes at the intense feeling that washes over you. You stop breathing as suddenly the room fills with blue light emitting from you. The wind picks up, the ground shakes under your feet, and the small pieces of plaster begin to fall off the ceiling. You're not sure, but you think you hear someone screaming echoing through the room.

You meet the Darkling's gaze. He stares at you with some kind of pride and satisfaction. Like a predator when he finally catches his great prey. You pull away your hand from his grip, still holding defiantly his gaze. You probably wouldn't have been so brave under different circumstances, but after all, you were a participant in the Hunger Games. You were already dead anyway.

"Wed'ma." whispers spread throughout the room as everything returned to normal. The other Grisha help one of them, the one closest to you, get up from his lap. He's breathing quickly, he's pale, and you see a trickle of blood coming from his mouth. You realize that you are not bleeding like the tributes before you did from the wound inflicted by the Darkling.

"She is not a witch. Show a little respect. The Merzost Holder is standing in front of you." he announces. Grisha falls silent, staring at you in shock and awe as the others give him confused looks. Including you.

"What the blody hell?" you whisper, but he either doesn't hear you or ignores you, sending everyone else out of the room. Only you and his oprichniki remain.

When the door closes with a loud bang, you somehow regain the ability to speak. You straighten up, looking up to meet the Darkling's dark eyes still fixed on you. You shiver, swallowing, as you gather the courage to ask him a question.

"What the fuck is going on here?" he grimaces at your aggressive tone and crude swearing but decides to ignore it and answer your question. He decides he still has plenty of time to train you once your emotions fade away.

"You wield the merzost. Power from the borderline of little science. Its layers… are within you. The saints have marked you as the living source of this. A little science prevents us from creating new things, and trying to use Merzost is mostly deadly, if not disastrous, for those who try to use it, but you… you can manipulate it to your heart's content. You hold the magic that is hidden at the heart of the world—the power of creation, of life over death."

"I am not a Grisha." he laughs loudly and mockingly at your words, making you shiver.

"Wasn't this little show enough to convince you? It was definitely for me. I've seen many Grisha, but you're one of a kind for now. Your power may have been unheard of, but you exist in our literature. As a myth. A legend, a bedtime story for children. Our ancestors believed that one day a Grisha would appear so powerful that they would be able to move the sea, destroy continents, and restore lives. That there will appear a saviour who will give us eternal greatness and make us receive the respect we deserve. We have been waiting a long time for you, miss Y/L/N."

"Well, then you'll have to wait a little longer. I'm a tribute. I'll probably die in the games."

"You don't think I'm going to let my Grisha be part of this, do you?" he asks you mockingly. Before you can answer, the door opens again, and two heartrenders walk in. "Excellent timing. Ivan, Fedyor, you will escort Miss Y/L/N to the Little Palace. Make sure our Merzost Holder gets all the amenities she needs after the traumatic time she endured in the district and on the way here."

Your first thought is to resist him and run away from there as far as possible, but there is nothing you can do. It's either follow them or go back to the Hunger Games, which you don't want.

So you hide your pride in your pocket and walk between the two men, guided by the Darkling's watchful, careful gaze that makes you shiver. You sigh in relief as soon as the door closes behind you and you're free from his dark eyes.

But something tells you that you won't be free from this dangerous man's company for long.

Especially when, after he touched you, you felt some strange connection to him that you couldn't explain. Something that made you more terrified than your untamed, wild and new power.

The chamber they take you to is ridiculously luxurious. The amount of gold and decorations in it alone could feed your entire orphanage for years.

As a poor orphan, you learned to measure the value of things like food and warm clothes. Probably like other residents of the districts. Only in the capital and larger cities did people have higher values than survival.

Your thoughts returned to Mal and Alina. You hoped that the two of them could handle it until you figured out how to get out of the mess you were in.

You look at your hands, reflecting on everything that has happened in these few days. From a poor orphan, you became a tribute in the Hunger Games and then the holder of some strange Grisha's power that you had no idea about.

And the worst part of it all was that you were still so damn hungry.

Suddenly, someone knocks on your door. Before you can answer, the Darkling himself enters, followed by a red-haired woman in a white kefta and two maids. They both hold the trays, put them on the table, and leave silently, closing the door behind them, leaving you with a woman and a shadow summoner.

The redhead walks up to you and holds your chin, watching you closely and tugging on your hair, tilting your head back. You aggressively push her hands away from you and step back.

"Ouch. I thought districts taught some culture, right?"

"Sorry, I don't feel very cultured when a strange woman comes up to me and plays with me like with some rag doll."

The Darkling chuckles softly as he sits down in one of the plush armchairs. His posture seems a little more relaxed than when he entered the room earlier. There is no longer anger or desire for committing murder on his face.

"Calm down, little wellspring. Genya is here to… gently improve your appearance." he says, pointing at your outfit. You blush slightly at his remark, but you realise that anyone in your situation would look... like they took it out of a dog's throat.

"What for?" you ask suspiciously, crossing your arms, which somehow makes him more amused. He's slowly starting to irritate you.

"And here I thought you'd be grateful that we wanted to get you to… a more human state." he says, revealing the first tray. The black gloves he wore contrasted with the gold tray lid, catching your attention. You wondered why he needed them on such a warm day...

The smell of food hits your nostrils, making saliva pool in your mouth and making you forget about anything else. Your stomach screams at you to eat the food given to you as quickly as possible, but your willpower and common sense win.

"What do you want?" you ask firmly and look at him defiantly.

"The king, despite my numerous persuasions, did not agree to... remove you from the Hunger Games. It probably has something to do with... the type of power you have. The old fool is probably afraid that we will start a rebellion that you will lead. He hopes that you will die in the games, and this will take care of itself for him."

"He is right. We know I have no chance of surviving." the calmness with which you say this surprises him. His mocking, confident demeanour crumbles for a moment as he looks at you carefully, analysing this new side of you he didn't see yet.

However, by the smirk that forms on his lips, you realise that he isn't losing interest in you at all. Your mysteriousness only further ignites the fire of curiosity within him. And being close to him is the last thing you want right now.

"Maybe not alone, but with me as your mentor? We shall see..." he says thoughtfully, his eyes piercing right through you. You lose this little staring contest, feeling too uncomfortable under his scrutinising gaze. "Now eat. You must have strength. And Genya will improve your appearance in the meantime. Don't make this already... demanding task more difficult for her."

You sit on the chair that is furthest from him and take some food from the tray. You chew in silence, watching the two of them. When you're full enough that your stomach won't growl, you decide to put the food aside to share something with him that he probably won't like.

"I won't win. You better get ready for it." You say with great confidence and he raises his eyebrows.

"And why is that, if I may ask?" he asks mockingly, as if he already knew that your victory was a foregone conclusion.

"I am not going to kill anybody during the games." you state, and Genya, who was combing your hair, freezes.

You both look at the Darkling, waiting for his reaction, who for now stares at you in surprise. He clenches his jaw and fists as he realises the meaning of your words. You see anger in his dark eyes.

"Are you mad?" he asks surprisingly calmly, probably surprising both of you. However, you see shadows begin to flow from his hands, circling around the feet of the chair he was sitting in as he gave you a look that could kill and certainly scare many.

"Probably."

"Listen to me carefully. We didn't wait hundreds of years for you to come here with your bratty, saintly attitude, willing to martyr yourself in the name of nothing at the stupid Hunger Games. You're going to win it, and you're going to do everything I tell you to do with a damn smile on your pretty face that will charm sponsors enough to invest money in you. Do you understand, underdog from 12?"

His angry speech and growl through his teeth do not intimidate you. He needs you alive so he won't hurt you, and you'll die soon anyway, so what difference does it make if you show him respect? You lean towards him slowly, bravely enduring his angry glare and returning it with your own.

"You can kiss my ass, shadow man." you speak slowly, loudly, and clearly.

You hear Genya sigh softly behind you, and you see him frown in anger. He throws the tray (which was still full of food and on the table) at you. He leaves your rooms without looking at you and slams the door hard as he takes his shadows with him.

"That… that was really stupid and brave." Genya says that once she has recovered from his small outburst of anger.

She saw people who, for less, were cut in half with the cut form from his shadows. But there you were, coming out of the verbal fight with him without a scratch because you managed to jump away from the tray he threw at you.

"I am dead anyway." you say, shrugging. There was no way you were getting out of this alive.

Genya smiles at you sadly, comfortingly in a twisted way, and gently caresses your cheek with her hand.

"Come. We'll make you look breathtaking before the presentation." she says, sitting you in another chair as she begins to prepare you to perform in front of Ravka's nobility.

The way she talked to you afterwards made you feel calmer and more comfortable. But you couldn't help but feel remorse when the maids came to clean up the food and immediately threw it in the trash like it was nothing. So many people could feed off this...

You came back tired from the presentation. You had to say a few words about yourself, which was extremely difficult for you, and after that, the host mentioned that you were Grisha.

The first Grisha in the Hunger Games.

You know from Genya that this information made some sponsors, curious about your unusual case, invest some money in you. Enough to cover the cost of creating your kefta and providing you with other outfits for future Hunger Games promotional events.

You think you have a few weeks before going to the arena. Before that stupid game for the royalty and nobilities.

You were preparing to go to bed when they allowed you to stay in a Little Palace as a sign of respecting the rules between the Lantsov dynasty and Darkling, when suddenly someone knocked on your door.

Whoever it was, they didn't wait for an answer.

The Darkling walked into your chamber, closing the door behind him. He looked at you and then sat on one of the armchairs, not taking his eyes from you even for a while.

"Normal people wait to be invited before entering." you say, crossing your arms as you stare at him expectantly as he sits back and takes the grapes in his gloved hands.

"Normal people don't want to die, but here you are." he replies sarcastically, at which you roll your eyes. A little more confident, you take a step towards him, giving him a defiant look as he raises his curious gaze at you.

"What do you want?"

"To discuss tomorrow's tactics with you." he replies calmly, eating a grape. Your gaze lingers on his lips for a moment before you meet his piercing, dark eyes again.

"Do you think that after your behaviour, I will cooperate with you in any way?"

"I shouldn't have reacted like that. Not many people surprise me, Miss Y/L/N. Let's just say… I'm not used to having someone who rebels against me in such a brazen way." he says, looking you up and down appraisingly. You somehow stop yourself from trembling under his gaze and calm yourself down enough to answer without an ounce of trembling in your voice.

"You haven't seen my true impudence yet, General."

"I guess… Why are you so eager to die?" the sudden change of topic causes you to frown in confusion.

He's the last person you want to talk to about why you don't want to kill. You won't open up. Certainly not in front of him—the man who killed thousands without blinking his eye.

"I don't want to die." you decide to give him that simple answer before you also reach for the grapes he's eating and take some for yourself.

You don't gorge yourself in front of him, even though your stomach is growling. You won't give him any more reasons to treat you like an animal. The people of Os'Alta had enough of them anyway.

"But you say you won't kill anyone. That you are going to die." he reminds you, gently pushing the bowl of fruit towards you, which you miss as you think about what answer to give him.

"Because I know that will happen. I won't survive long without killing another, but it doesn't mean that I want to die. I just have humanity in me. Not like the others."

"It will be only a matter of time. Your behaviour will change in the arena. The will to survive is greater in crisis situations than any morality. I assure you. I've seen many good men turn into pure animals after they went to the arena." the faraway look in his eyes as he stares at the fireplace behind you tells you he's not telling you the whole truth. Maybe he saw it, but definitely not in the arena. You wonder what he could mean.

"I would rather die than lose who I am." you answer with all the confidence you can muster.

"You have no choice. I will drag you out of this arena by myself if I have to. You are too important for Grisha to just die." his words make you angry.

You know that some plans for you appeared in his head the moment he somehow activated the merzost within you. You could have seen it in his eyes then. Their strange source of ancient magic was inside you, and he wanted to use it for his plans. But you don't want to be some mythical fairy tale creature for Grisha.

"I am not a hero or any other saint!" you growl through your teeth in anger and clench your fists at your sides.

Unbeknownst to you, shadows begin to thicken around you, and the room plunges into darkness. You only realise what's happening to you when the Darkling stares at you in silent admiration and curiosity, a small smile tugging at his lips as he rubs his chin and his rough, short beard in pure, growing interest.

"You will be whoever I want you to be. Do you understand me?" he asks, ignoring for now this little show of your power.

You have no idea how you managed to amplify his shadows and make them more visible to you. Apparently, you had to learn to control this strange thing before you did something terrible. Again.

You shiver, pushing away the unwanted memory and instead focusing on your anger at him. You decide to respond very eloquently to his threat/order.

"Fuck you."

He just laughs at you as he stands up. Only a small coffee table separated you, and you again realised how powerful and intimidating he was as he towered over you while you still sat on the couch. You feel a chill against your ankle as his shadows gather at his and your feet before disappearing.

You stand up as he walks around the coffee table and walks over to you. He lifts your chin with his gloved hand, forcing you to look into his eyes. You don't feel that strange electricity like before when his skin touched yours, but the tension between us is still palpable. At least for you. Your fingers tingle to touch him, to run your hand over his shadows. You know that the moment you do this, darkness will fill the room again.

You have no idea why, but the thought suddenly seems exciting. You have a strange desire to create something from its shadows. Model them at your discretion. And you're more confused than the intensity with which his eyes stare into yours.

"I give you two days. You'll change your mind, little wellspring. Your power is too great to simply let it waste in the grave. Think about it." he says this and walks past you, gently hitting your shoulder with his. You turn and watch as he leaves and closes the door behind him, leaving you alone in the empty room.

And when you are finally alone, you allow yourself to pounce on the food that has been left for you. Once you've eaten your fill, you start to realise what kind of crazy sh*t you've gotten yourself into.

You look at your hands and close your eyes, pressing them together. You focus on the strange tingling feeling on the inside. You open one eye and gasp as you see the black mass—the thread connecting both of your arms—that is cool to the touch.

A silent scream escapes your lips as you shake your hands hysterically, trying to get rid of it. The black mass disappears the moment you lose your focus. You put your hand to your mouth, letting yourself kneel on the floor as you sob as quietly as possible. You can't hold back your tears as the memories of blood, screaming, metal, and the feeling of shortness of breath come back to you. You rock back and forth, taking shaky breaths. You only wake up from your trance when the first rays of sunlight hit your eyes.

And so goes your first night in the Little Palace.

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romanoffsbish · 1 year

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Do I Know You?

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Request: lil anon.

Natasha loved you, that much she knew, but the closer your binding nuptials came the more she felt a need to run. So, that’s exactly what she does, but when she returns a year later nothing was the same. You were made to forget her, and in turn your once blooming love that she’s desperate to reignite.

Warnings: Alluded to Violence/Brainwashing. Heartbreak. Feigned Amnesia. (Happy Ending)

Alluded to Smut | 18+ | Minors DNI

"Another one?" Natasha nodded with a wince, she could already feel a headache drawing on from the excess amount of liquor she's downed thus far, but she deemed it her underwhelming punishment for what she did to you today.

For breaking your heart, time and time again she chose the life of superhero over you, even when she didn't need to. It's not like you didn't understand the mission here or there, you too were an Avenger who understood that duty calls, a few missed dates caused little harm.

There's got to be a line drawn though, and you expected that she knew your wedding was one of those times, but she practically begged Fury to let her onto a mission, in front of your face like your feelings didn't matter; she refused to believe you when you said it was the last straw.

——

So, she very well placated you, lying with too much ease about turning it back down after all, and for a few short days it was back to bliss. Natasha held you so close, cherishing you because she knew she'd have to fight to get you back when she returned, but she needed time.

It all went swimmingly until you were standing alone at the altar, all your mutual friends were sat in shock at the sight of a gap where your blushing bride should've been, but wasn't.

So now she's drowning her sorrows in a bottle of whiskey in some foreign country because she likely ruined the one good thing she's ever had.

——

Natasha's foot tapped against the bottom of the Quinjet anxiously, it'd been a year since she left, every time she pleaded with Fury to stop extending the mission it's like he doubled it.

She had a plan: take the three months to fix herself while doing what she's best at, then come home and make it all right with you.

However plans never seem to work out in her favor, and she is drowning in self deprecating thoughts as she ponders if you've forgiven her.

Did you meet someone else? Are they taking up the right side of the bed in your shared room?

Natasha bit her lip at the painful thought.

Will she be able to undo the pain she caused? Can she convince you to forgive her just this additional time, and promise it'll be different?

She will beg down on her knees if she has to.

Will she be different? Or will she just pretend until she can't anymore, and fall back into running away whenever she began to feel like she couldn't possibly live without you.

She's never needed anyone before, it terrifies her to need you, but she can't fight it anymore.

No, that much she knew was over. Because in the year she was forced to be without you it became rather apparent that she was correct. Living without you was a miserable experience; not hearing your giggles in the middle of the night when you should both be sleeping, or to not have you tucked into her, safe and sound.

Natasha realized that everything she was running from was everything she ever wanted. Loving you wasn't a burdening thing like her past tried to convince her it was, she was not about to be tied down and have her will taken. No, she was just signing up for a life with you by her side, and she realizes now that she has to fix this because now she can't imagine her life any other way then with you as her wife.

As soon as the jet landed she was racing off to find you, and once she reached the kitchen her search was over. There you stood with a mug in hand talking to Wanda in your Stitch pajamas. Natasha moved on impulse, her body needed to feel yours, so she catapulted into you without a second thought on as to if she was allowed to.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry, please forgive me," she sobbed into your shirt, and you froze upon feeling her tears seep through to your chest.

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" Natasha froze, entire body tensing as you spoke, because the tone you used was one of innocence, and not one full of malice or contempt. You were asking her an honest question, and it terrified her.

"I'm your fiancée?"

"Were," Wanda softly corrected with a glare fixated upon the absolute mess of a woman.

"I'm so confused..." you whispered, and the woman pulled away from your hold, the one you graciously allowed her to remain in with a deep frown, and eyes glistening with tears.

"You don't remember me?" Natasha shakily asked, her arms now wrapping around her body as she took tentative steps backwards.

"I know who you are," you admitted, "Just not how you're supposed to be important to me."

Natasha nodded, then before you could break her heart any further she was taking off to her old room so that she could be sick.

"Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"I thought all your memories came back?"

"They did," you replied with a saddened smile, "But I don't know if I want to remember her."

—

After crying herself into a restless nap Natasha woke up with a start, hand flying out to grasp you to pull you close but she was reminded for the umpteenth time that you weren't there.

Nothing made sense before without you, but after seeing you it makes even less sense, and in order to get answers Natasha jumped up and ran to Fury for them, and as she drove closer to Shields headquarters she fears her continued mission extensions were intermixed with why.

"Agent Romanoff, welcome home," the stoic man greets without even looking up, he didn't need to with the way she slammed his door into the wall without a shred of remorse.

"What happened to Y/N?"

"And here I thought you were here with completed mission reports, and detailed ones at that since I heard you sustained an injury."

"Stop giving me the fucking run around Nick."

"You broke her heart, and that trickled into a long winded year of saving the poor girl."

"From what?"

"Hydra."

Natasha's knees gave out, causing her body to fall into the mans couch with a tightness in her chest. "Nick, what are you saying? I-I don't understand, what happened? If she was in danger why didn't anyone tell me? Is this why my fucking mission was pointlessly extended?"

"I haven't the time to offer you explanations, I'm needed elsewhere, but to make a long story short—yes, we didn't need you in the way in a fit of remorseful hysteria as we found her," the man revealed as he dropped a huge file on the table then looked her straight in the eye, "Not to mention she told everyone before she was ever taken captive that if you were to ask about her no one was ever allowed to indulge you."

Fury left as soon as the words left him, and the redhead shakily reached for the thick files. Knots formed in the pit of her stomach the more she read, the papers were thorough, not a single bit of information was spared. Starting with your failed nuptials that led to you going on the honeymoon alone and being kidnapped.

Natasha left you in a vulnerable headspace, costing you six months of your life, she basically led Hydra right to you, and she felt sick to her stomach at the notion. Love isn't mean to cause pain, and yet that's all she's done to you; therefore your lost memories of her love was her burden to carry going forward.

——

It'd been a week since Natasha had been back, nobody would even spare her a glance, so she hid out on the unused floor of the compound. Until one morning when she was informed by Friday that the team had left the compound. Something about an impromptu mission that she was to sit out of due to her recent injury.

The same injury you heard about through the grapevine, and you honestly felt responsible. Had they let her come home on time she would have avoided her last forced sparring session. Then her torn calf wouldn't be on your conscience, and you wouldn't be watching the poor woman struggle to make her sandwich.

"Need some help?"

Natasha jumped, making the pain in her leg worse as it shot through her body and sent her tumbling backwards, but fortunately you were there to catch her, "Falling for me are we?"

Mentally you slapped yourself for saying that, her lip wobbled ever so slightly, most people would've missed it, but you never could. No matter what happened, you'd always be in tune with the woman who still held your heart captive after all this time and the heartbreak.

"I'm okay, thanks though," she politely declined, then with as much strength as she could muster she stood upright again, and shifted to face the counter to hide her tears.

"Natasha, I know what happened, Wanda told me," you told a partial truth, it was the witch that restored your memories months ago, but you wouldn't be letting Natasha know yet, if you were ever going to trust her again, she needed to prove to you she was really sorry.

"Oh," she whispered, the knife clattering on the counter drowning her voice out, "I'm sorry."

The tone of her voice wasn't something you'd grown used to, even after three years together she had yet to ever be this vulnerable with you.

"Hey, it's okay Nat, I'm sure you had a reason."

Natasha stilled when your hand settled on her lower back, she didn't deserve your sympathy.

"Y/N, please, you don't have to forgive me, if it wasn't for my cowardice you wouldn't be in the mess that you're in," Natasha shakily stated, her inability to reel her emotions in truly did shock you, and it was clear to you how broken up over the entire situation she is—as she should be, but it also pains you to see how she blames herself for what happened to you, even if the team agreed, you never once blamed her.

You've had a long time to think the whole situation over, and if you could go back in time you would, in a heartbeat. You'd have slowed down, caught on to her fight or flight response slowly building up and gave her the space she needed, hell you would've even postponed the wedding if she would have only asked. It was the secrets and blatant lying that did you in.

"That's the thing Natasha, I already did," you whispered as you pulled her in for a hug, one that you craved just as much as she did, but the desperation was only visualized from her end. Natasha clung to you like you were still her lifeline, because deep down you always will be.

"I'm sorry," you spoke, and she pulled away with a deep frown full of defiance, "No, you've got nothing to apologize for Y/N, not at all!"

"It's my fault you're hurt Natasha, they told me they wouldn't let you come home," your voice wavered with a concern she didn't expect, but nonetheless she appreciated, "and now that you're back you've being unfairly isolated."

"Hey, hey," Natasha cupped your cheeks when she saw you losing hold of your composure, an all too familiar intimacy that you leaned into within an instant, making the redheads heart flicker with a bit of hope, "They had every right to keep me away, and to keep their distance. I didn't just steal Thor's poptarts krasivaya, I broke your heart, and that's worthy of all this."

You chuckled, "Thor does love his poptarts."

"Yeah, and the team, me included, love you."

An awkward silence fell over the both of you as you remained connected in a loose embrace. Only to be broken when Natasha gazed at your lips with a hunger you recognized as futile. Though you wanted to kiss her just as bad, you couldn't let her back in just yet, so you gently let her go, and nudged her out of your way.

"Sit, I'll make you a proper lunch."

Natasha went to refute your offer, but the way you looked at her made her back down, and at the sound of her relieved sigh as she settled on the stool you smiled in triumph. Natasha never let you take care of her like this before, most of the time she'd glare at you for even insinuating she wasn't capable of doing so; she'd cook eggs on the stove while bleeding out just to prove a point. Literally, once Bruce had to stitch her up as she passive-aggressively fixed dinner.

This wasn't much, but it was a start, and you were hopeful this wasn't a temporary thing. That her injury isn't the reason she's allowing you in like this, and that it's who she became while she was away. It made you think, that maybe, just maybe, there was still hope for you.

—

The mission the team went on ended up turning into quite the doozy. What was meant to be an overnight became a three month long undercover mission. So in that time you were left to either your solitude or Nat's company.

For the first month she herself kept a bit of distance between the two of you. After she was so close to pouncing on you in the kitchen she felt it was the best option. It wasn't fair for her to look at you like you belonged to her, when you didn't even know who she was anymore outside of the rumors, and the harsh truths.

It wasn't until you purposefully set your alarm for four in the morning so you could corner her in the kitchen that she was given no choice but to spend time with you. Neither of you said much, you gently nodded to the mugs on the counter and she graciously accepted the offer.

"Thank you," she hummed, her distinct rasp you'd grown to love in the mornings much smoother as the warm drink coated her throat.

"Don't thank me yet, you have yet to try my omelette," You watched in amusement as the redhead's eyes widened and her head instinctively shook in the negatory. "Um, I'm not hungry, but thank you, really it's kind."

You deadpanned, "Your stomach growled."

Natasha sighed in defeat, begrudgingly she accepted the extended plate, tentatively she cut off an edge, then she moaned at the flavor.

"No fucking way, Y/N, that's delicious!"

"You seem shocked," you gasped with a hand on your chest in feigned offense.

"It's just, my Y/N couldn't even crack an egg."

It's true, Natasha used to do all the cooking after she rescued you from Hydra the first time, but in her absence you had to learn.

"Well consider me the superior Y/N then."

You watched regretfully as your words struck the redhead far deeper than you'd intended.

"Natasha, I—," she cut you off with a warm, albeit hurt smile, "I'm actually in a rush, I have physical therapy today, I'll catch you later."

As the redhead ran away, again, you found your heart was aching at the distance you just reaffirmed with your careless attempt to joke. It wasn't a lie, ever since your failed attempt to wed you were forced to become a more well rounded person, but that didn't need to be a new point of guilt for the redhead to bare.

You finished off her omelette, then retreated back to your room, you'd try again tomorrow.

—

The following day you saw Natasha on the couch, her injured leg was on an ottoman, while the other was curled beneath her as she read a book: Girl in Pieces, it was one you got her for her birthday when she mentioned she needed more to read, it was also your not so subtle way of trying to get her to see your pain.

It warmed your heart to see her actually read it, but really what caught your eye was the hoodie she wore as she flipped the pages. The light grey that swallowed the petite woman was one of yours, it was rather new actually, and even if you were meant to be upset that she stole from a Y/N who didn't know her, you just weren't.

Knowing that on some level she still needed you kept that burning hope that never died alive. Natasha always looked beautiful wearing your clothes, whether it be your hoodie with sweats or an oversized tee paired with her lacy panties. There was nothing she couldn't pull off, but in most scenarios you did, discarding the fabrics on your bedroom floor to feel her.

It was easy to admire her really, the way the sun filled the nearly empty room and reflected off of her was nothing short of angelic. She wore a pensive expression, brows furrowed with lips pursed, and eyes focused as if the words were inspiring her to think critically.

"So, why is it you're not on the mission?"

Natasha giggled when you jumped, of course she knew you were there, she slipped her bookmark between the crisp pages, then gave all of her attention to you with a soft smile.

"Um, I am not exactly cleared to go out yet," you quietly replied as you sat on the couch across from hers, "Not since I got powers."

Natasha's face fell when your hand raised to show the materialization of blue sparks, you were never supposed to be in this situation. Natasha remembers the day she saved you from the fate you eventually still endured.

You'd been so scared when she stumbled upon you in a high tech cage with glass for walls. Hydra had only had you for a few weeks, it was enough time to start their trials, but they only succeeded in altering your physical strength. Now though, they'd given you the powers you never wanted, and now she wanted to cry.

"Oh Y/N," she couldn't bare to see you like this, knowing it was her fault only made it worse. The guilt swimming behind her eyes made you frown just the same, "It's not your fault Nat."

"It kinda is," she replies instantly, "If I wasn't a coward, had I not ran, you would've never been alone for them to take. We'd be truly happy, but more importantly you would be safe."

"Why did you?" Natasha's frown only deepened as you asked the looming question, "Why run?"

"I-It wasn't exactly a choice," she starts, her hands reflexively clenched, before she tightly clasped them together, "It was fight or flight."

The vague answer she gave honestly upset you, you know she was scared, but for her to have such a fearful biological response to you hurt.

"What did I do wrong?"

Natasha shook her head, her brimming tears falling as she did, "Nothing, you were perfect."

"I don't understand."

Natasha's knuckles cracked as she reflexively tightened her grasp, the idea of being this honest scared her, but you also deserved to know, even if you weren't truly you anymore.

"I'm not a good person Y/N," now it was your turn to clench your fists, this undeserved self loathing mantra of hers always infuriated you.

"That's simply not true Natasha, we've all made choices we weren't proud of, I know you're not a bad person, my heart knows that much."

"I broke that heart, it should despise me."

"Well it doesn't, so stop willing it to."

"Why?" her voice cracked, she looked unsure of what she was asking, but she asked anyway.

"I'm destined to love you, I don't have it in me to hate you Natasha, trust me, I already tried."

A wave of clarity washed over her, there was a storm behind her green eyes, and the way you could see her heart breaking devastated you.

"Natasha—"

"I can't believe you lied to me like this..."

Even with an injured leg she was still able to evade your grasp, and escape on the elevator.

"You left me at the altar, but I'm the bad guy?" You huffed to yourself like a petulant child, and stormed off to your room via the many stairs.

—

A loud knock on your door woke you up, you groaned, all you wanted to do after earlier's fight was sleep the rest of the day away, but it appears the redhead wasn't done berating you.

With a scowl to rival her expected one you opened the door, but all you found was a box with your name on it signed from Natasha.

"I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me for earlier's blow out, you've got every right not to, but I hope you do understand I felt blindsided. If you don't, I hold no grudges, and I promise I will leave the compound as soon as possible so you can be comfortable. But if you do, please meet me in the training room at 8."

With the note read you untied the ribbon, then you opened the box to find a customized suit, it was primarily black, but there were these gorgeous waves of varying shades of blue going down the sides of the breathable latex material.

A soft smile graced your face as you ran your hands over the piece, it made you feel special, but more importantly it gave you a feeling of belonging again. For months now they've been too afraid to utilize you in combat, they were worried about the unknown capabilities of course, but you also knew they just didn't want to put you in danger, but that wasn't exactly their choice to keep making. Nat understood.

After less than a minute deliberating you were slipping into the suit you know she spent the last few hours making in Tony's lab for you. Then you made your way down to the gym just in time to find her perching herself atop of a miniature board in a carnival-esque dunk tank.

"Natasha, what is all of this?"

"Well, I see that you are either hesitant to use your powers, or the team is benching you, and in either scenario I want to help you undo it."

"You're injured, are you sure this is safe?"

Natasha rolled her eyes, "Y/N, it is a tiny pool of water, what could you possibly do to me?"

"I could drown you."

"Don't threaten me with a good time," she winked and smirked at you in that dopey way that usually has you crumbling to your knees.

Now it was you rolling your eyes, "Romanoff, what am I even expected to do with this?"

"Whatever your heart desires Y/N: use the water beneath me to pull me in, freeze the water as it exits your hands and throw the ice blocks at the target, or use a water stream."

All was going well, before you began to dunk Natasha in the tank you focused more on your breathing, and the overall serenity one needs to feel to remain under control. Once you felt at peace, something you knew deep down came when Natasha smiled at you, and encouraged you with praises, you began to formulate tiny balls of water, then you upped the ante and focused on chilling them until you had ice.

However, after you dunked her for the tenth time you could see something was wrong, she stayed under the water longer than normal, and judging by the influx of bubbles you knew she was screaming in pain. Something she felt she needed to keep from you as she rose out of the water with a tight lipped smile as she reset the seat and clambered back on with a struggle.

“Timeout,” you shouted while running over to the redhead who was failing to hide her pain, which meant it was likely a drastic feeling.

"Oh come on Y/N, we were just getting warmed up," the redhead frowned, "Or cooled down?"

“Nat, I saw you screaming in pain,” you admit, but she shrugged, “What is life if not painful?”

“I’m fine,” she tried again, but the truth was she was the furthest thing from it, but she didn’t want to present as incapable, or or weak, and she just didn’t want to let you down again.

"Natasha, please just be honest with me," you sighed, hand falling over hers as it sits over her calf, "If we're going to fix us, you have to be."

Natasha met your worried gaze with a tearful one of her very own, "W-we can fix this?"

It shocked you to see her so unsure, telling you that she was helping you without expectations. Letting you train with her because she knew you better than anyone else, and she knew you were scared of what you have become. It was endearing, and reminded you of the Natasha that you fell in love with all those years ago.

"It won't be the way it was overnight Natasha, but if you're here, as in no more running when scared, and you're honest, we can get us back."

"Okay," she timidly whispered with a nod, followed up by a shaky exhale, "The therapist said I need surgery, but I'm terrified Y/N/N."

"Oh love," you lifted her hand up to your lips to deposit a gentle kiss, "I am so sorry it's not getting better on its own, I know you hate the hospital, and being put under even more so."

"I can't do it, I don't want to—I won't."

You gently lifted her off the platform of the dunk tank so you could hold her in your arms, "Yes you will baby, because you are one of the strongest people I've ever known, and if it'll help you, I'll be right there the whole time."

"Really?" her hands gripped you over the suit in an attempt to garner a semblance of reason, and you smiled at the way she used you to ground herself like this, "Of course, you're not ever going to be alone if you don't want to be."

"Never again," she whispered the promise, "This is where I want to be for the rest of time."

"Funny," you smirked down at her, your right hand cupped her cheek, "I was thinking the same thing," you pulled her in for a kiss, her parted lips swallowed your sudden giggle as she eagerly moved to deepen the reunion kiss.

"However, the bed might be more comfortable, what do you think?" Natasha whimpered hotly as you bit into her lower lip, "Please detka..."

—

“I told you it’d work,” Tony boasts, and the little witch rolls her eyes while filling her duffle bag up with a discernible quickness, “No, you said ‘why does it matter’ and ‘this isn’t my problem’ when Clint and I suggested this.”

“Well, initially, yeah, but I changed my tune.”

“Yeah, like five minutes ago when Natasha fell into the water with a cry and Y/N ran to her,” Steve bemoaned while starting up the jet so they could ‘return a month and a half early because they were just so incredibly efficient.’

———

4,572 Words

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #gxg #black widow imagine #black widow x reader

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kaeyx · 7 months

Note

royal au with street rat!chuuya

Sreet rat!chuuya who when he first laid eyes on you, you were the only thing he felt like stealing at the time he saw yiu

Street rat!chuuya who threw rocks at your window until you finally answered him with a grumble until he accidentally threw a rock at you

Street rat!chuuya who tried to rizz you up with stolen jewels and animals even though you know it’s a stolen and you scold him for it

Street rat!chuuya who finally gained your trust and you let him in your room by entertaining from your balcony

Street rat!chuuya who started coming every night to your room to continue and try and seduce you

Street rat!chuuya who gets jealous whenever other princes try to court you shoul

Street rat!chuuya who fucks you against the desk while saying how your his how no one can have you and that he practically owns you

-☃️ sorry if the grammar is shit I was writing this while watching duck tales for the 7th time and got distracted multiple times

I'm giggling kicking my feet over this one omggggg!! It got long, under a cut!

Sheep/street rat Chuuya going scavenging near the castle because he's the strongest of the group and isn't afraid of the guards. Plus the best scraps are obviously where the richer people live, sometimes he can even get some beer from the soldiers or a few bits of cheese. Seeing you through the doors of the castle or when you leave for whatever reason and deciding he's going to try his luck with you. He climbs up onto your balcony and sneaks into your room, throws rocks at the walls outside to get your attention, anything he can. Tries to gain your trust and begs you for a few meals first by putting up a kicked puppy façade then getting angry because you have so much extra, can you really not afford to feed your people? You're impressed by his courage and also the fact that he climbed up the fucking wall, plus he's strangely pretty for a beggar boy. There's fair skin under the mud and sunburn and he has gorgeous hair, even if it's greasy and matted. His eyes are bright and his features are delicate, and he moves with the strength and grace of an assassin. Under the old, baggy clothes Chuuya has thin hips, strong legs, broad shoulders for his stature.

He sits on your balcony during the night and tells you about eating rats and stealing chickens, about his family- all the orphan kids in town that he teams up with, and the vicious turf wars that they fight with the other children. Even though he's old enough to learn a trade nobody takes him in, he can't read or write and he's had no education, none of the guilds in the city want him and to be honest he's tired of trying and has accepted he'll live his life protecting the kids.

You're fascinated by how different his life is to your own and tell him about your education, the balls and uncomfortable clothes, the hours of meetings with allies that you have to sit through because one day all the lands as far as you can see will be your own, and you have to be ready. He laughs at the stupid rules for banquets and gatherings, and that one time you fell off your horse when you were learning to ride. You teach him how to write his name on an old scrap of parchment, and he keeps it in his pocket. The servants bring dinner to your room now and Chuuya always gets a share, but he bundles it up and takes it back to the others instead of eating it himself.

Eventually there's talks about suitors, of course. You complain to Chuuya about overhearing your options, an uncle that's half your age or a second cousin from another country or what have you. People you've never met. Chuuya seethes and you think it's on your behalf, but really there's a strange pit growing in his stomach. Will you still live here? Or will your spouse whisk you away to some faraway city, never to be seen again? Will there be a war triggered by your succession, taking you from him forever? You chatter on about the stable boy that keeps giving you hopeful looks and that one noble that always hangs around with their kid, trying to talk to your parents; and Chuuya sees red. He grabs the food and leaves without a proper goodbye, disappears into the night and leaves you confused and annoyed.

The sheep notice something is off about Chuuya, moreso than usual. They all have bets going on how he's getting so much food consistently, with most of them agreeing it's either prostitution or he's found a really good spot to steal from and hasn't told them. It doesn't help that he's so cagey about the matter, going beet red and dodging their questions. And it's even worse tonight because he comes back angry, and Chuuya never comes back angry. He always seems oddly thoughtful when he splits the food up amongst them, making sure the smaller kids get their share too; but tonight he dumps it on the ground still wrapped in his ratty cloak and leaves again without a word.

They find Chuuya asleep in the grass by the river next morning, one hand pressed to his chest, and he refuses to answer questions. He doesn't go out for food again, begging the merchants and stealing from taverns like the rest of the Sheep do, but never coming back laden with goodies like he'd been doing for the past few months. He's snappy and sullen and doesn't play anymore, doesn't even throw rocks at the rival kids when they have to fight for something. Just sits and thinks and paces around.

You on the other hand grow worried, then annoyed, then worried again. Days turn into a whole week and Chuuya never hops onto your balcony, light and nimble. He doesn't throw rocks at your wall to grab your attention. You always eat by the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of tangled red hair underneath. You leave him food like an offering and pray for him every day, you begin to lose sleep and worry the servants. He doesn't come back. You fear he's angry with you or worse, dead. Gone like so many other beggars before him. You miss him enough that you begin writing him letters he can't read, letters you can't even send, and keeping them in a little box by your bed. Telling him about your days and wishing him well, and imagining his responses. Cynical and brash as they could be, they're comforting to you. And he'd never been unkind.

Chuuya stays in your thoughts even when he shouldn't be, even when it isn't worry you feel. You'd always meant to give him a bath, but had been to embarrassed to say it. Maybe you should have taught him to read more than his and your names. He'd have made such a good knight, or blacksmith, or strategist- he's more logical than half the old idiots arguing around your father's map table. Nobody had ever taught him any manners so he'd never been afraid to speak to you, or to tell you how stupid some of your ideas were. Whenever you meet with a suitor you can't help but compare them to him. Chuuya is prettier, his voice is nicer, he's smarter, he's more honest, he makes better conversation.

You start to wish he'd come back for entirely new reasons. Maybe if you could clean him up, dress him in some of your clothes... it could never happen of course, the kingdom stands to gain nothing from that union, but you can dream. He could maybe learn to wield a sword and do good things, earn a living instead of begging for scraps like a dog. He could be yours, as much as law and custom could allow. If only he'd come back.

#asks.answered #chuuya.bsd #chuuya x reader #chuuya x y/n #beggar!chuuya #☃️ anon #I GOT SO INSANELY CARRIED AWAY LMAO #maybe i Do like royal aus #street rat!chuuya

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rollup2theparty · 3 months

Text

—₊˚⊹♡ round & round! eunseok

❦ cold and aloof, it drives you nearly insane how difficult this man is to read. your blood boils at the thought of him, yet you seem to encounter his impeccable being in every spot of your mind. by some twist of fate, the two of you find yourselves trapped behind the locked doors after hours with nothing but fragile silence and a lot hanging at the tip of your tongue.

౨ৎ HIGHSCHOOL AU (fem!reader x s.eunseok)

⟡ enemies to lovers / mutual pining / forced proximity

⚠︎ minor angst / sfw

notes!! y/n is slightly embarrassing forgive me but she has it together i promise (NOT PROOFREAD YET)

cold and aloof, it drives you nearly insane how difficult this man is to read. from snoring through class or absent-mindedly staring out the classroom window, as the reigning rank 5 and class president you cant seem to figure out how this privileged jerk seems to not have a single care in the world despite being 4th from the bottom. his desks and lockers overflowed with snacks and flirty post it notes from his many admirers, and he doesn't seem to care. not like you were unpopular yourself, you never let the admiration get to your head but he? he's an inhospitable, cold blooded pain in the ass who conveniently has a face sculpted by the Gods. a face you find yourself thinking about a lot before you go to sleep (angrily, of course). he is a glass half empty person with a muted demeanor and you always thought of yourself as a person with a lot of love to give. really there is no better combination in the face of this earth. your hands are itchy with the urge to poke at him until his face explodes, or do basically anything to see him show emotions for once but your pride reprimands you to sit still.

the 6pm rush hour trip could give anyone a stroke, thats why you avoid it at all costs (its totally not because you know eunseok rides the 730pm bus after his basketball practice). your day starts and ends with his figure, a few seats in front of you on the 0119. how "unlucky" do you have to be to be stuck on the same commute to and from school daily? oh the disdain for his unchanging figure. every single day without fail, he sits next to a window with two wired earphones plugged in each ear, head off into space. a brawl could ensue and he would still be seated there, perfect unmoved. like being pulled in with a magnet, your pupils could never seem to wander elsewhere, even when foxy shy freshmen giggle as they hand out their phones in hopes of a connection. how can you erase this blurring unwanted regard when he haunts your every breath? your blood boils at the thought of him, yet you seem to encounter his impeccable being in every spot of your mind. sometimes you wished the bus would crash into a pole, maybe that'll stop you from thinking.

______________________________________________________________

friday mornings always caused your heart rate to fluctuate, it flutters with the thought of a weekend of glory ahead of you. but today its beating hard for a different reason. you scan each passenger a multitude of times, yet you can't see the sight of him. he's a no show. your brain scrambles for possible explanations, 'his parents gave him a ride? he got up late? he's home with a fever? gasp he's on his death bed?? no, he moved halfway across the country to be with his secret lover?? god no'. manually, you shut down your brain's intrusive notions and instead you force out a sigh of relief. yeah, maybe this is a blessing in disguise. the school festival was coming up and as a proud student council member, you had a lot to prepare for and everything would be made easier without a constant mind interference.

"attention, all students are expected to be dismissed by 530pm due to the forecast of tonight's upcoming thunderstorm, expect school doors to be locked by 6." the muffled voice over the intercom sends the classroom into a frenzy but everything other than your half done event proposal was mere white noise. your were ambitious by nature and by the work of some deity, today your mind was on focus mode, not even the clutter of joy behind you could get you to lift your head from the word file on your laptop. you were invincible, typing in the speed of light. you were at an intellectual high only to be washed down low with a light tap on your desk. breath halting, you were ready to give the coarse, senseless dimwit a good mouth beating until you lock eyes with his.

"y/n. im late, please hand this to our homeroom teacher." his voice departs from his lips in a monotone as he places his tardy slip on your desk.

"me?" you ask, almost hopeful.

"admin staff said to give it to the class president."

"oh! yes of course, i'll hand it to mr lee during recess, if thats okay with you. do you need anything-"

"thanks." frigidly, eunseok halts your ramble with a flat bread smile and a close up view of his back as he walks away.

no this isn't the first time he talked to you. he apologized once when he accidentally poked you with his umbrella at the bus stop, and another time when water bottle made you trip during recess. he remained reticent even when he bumped into your shoulder in the cafeteria, only offering a slight dip in his head as an apology. granted he doesn't actually speak to anyone beside his friend group, today marks the third.

oh you were in a constant bind, like a swing that tumbled from one side on another with the passing wind. do you like him? do you hate him? you two barely spoke, barely interacted but he called you by name. 'y/n'. oh you're aware you sound borderline delusional and psychotic but the ring of your name will forever be intimate. no one, not even your subject teachers or closest friends ever refer to you by 'y/n'. it had always been 'class president', nothing more nothing less. you've been crowned as the classroom's leader since elementary school, at this point there should be a ceremonial plague with your name engraved on it, thats how often you had the throne. people say the main thing that ties a human to their identity is their birth name, well this position is yours. you hear the title more than anything else, at one point you wonder if that should be what would be written on your headstone. so why does your name sound so natural when it rolls of his tongue?

your mind was balancing on a rather precarious tipping point when a reality check crashes onto you. every second you spend on this superficial distress is a second wasted. you were sitting there mouth agape, fighting a dilemma you didn't physically have, over some guy who barely acknowledged your existence when mid year examinations are soon and the school festival counts on your ability to drive it to success. you are a standalone piece, confident and able. a crush? unrequited love? some things are just so minuscule in this great world of troubles. you drag yourself back to earth by the hair and untangle your bundle of thoughts, you had to focus on what was important.

by lunch time, you were a changed man.

“hey, did mr lee get my slip?” he questioned as you crouch by your decorated locker at the far corner of the room. without missing a beat, you nod soullessly and wander back to your seat. but not before you look into his eyes. there was something more than an empty stare, yet you wasted no time jumping into conclusions. you could no longer drown yourself in an pool of wishful thinking

______________________________________________________________

not even a split second after the ring of the dismissal bell and you were out of your seat, making a bee line through the chorus and chaos of the narrow hallway. the pop up notice declaring your impending doom gave you adrenaline like no other. '5%', the glaring red battery symbol taunted you to break into a sprint. your campus was the size of a local mall but the only decent place with electrical sockets was the desolate east wing library. does this make any sense? absolutely not. even while bolting, you make time to write up a mental note to file an official complaint to the office.

you shut the unnecessarily heavy door behind you and in the nick of time you manage to breathe life back into your computer. with 30 minutes on the clock, you knew you could finish up the paper in 20, giving you a perfect 10 to pack up and leave before they lock up. your epiphany of plans is interrupted by a trickle of footsteps and the bump of a book to its spot on a bookshelf. you were never one to believe in ghosts but then and there your heart was tied up into a knot. maybe all the tales told by the bonfire last camp season finally got to you. your skittish hello echoed through the airtight room to no avail. would this be a life changing episode about your first ever encounter with a ghostly apparition? while it would make for a good application story, you silently beg with your life for any possible logical explanation.

from shelf to shelf, you tiptoe across with your breath held tight. 3/4 your way into the room, you manage to convince yourself it was nothing but the sound of the rumbling, worn out and abused air conditioner. yet you don't stop checking (for good measure). as the tip of your toes hits the floor of the final shelf, you feel the fear finally catch up to you, it was as if the room is closing in, you feel the motion in your gut as the world around you spins in a blur and like clockwork, the lights turn off. in an instant, the blurry pandemonium crashes into a black purgatory of nothingness.

a rock is now permanently lodged in your throat and you struggle to swallow the saliva that has run dry. you scream as if an invisible knife sliced your heart open and your mouth goes numb. the muscles holding up your limbs are forced to halt and you fall to your knees. you swear if anything else happens, you would melt together with the ground to form nothing but a puked up puddle of a mess. together with the prerequisite drizzle to the forewarned rain, a tap to your shoulder almost sent you running for the heavens.

"y/n?" there it was, again. the same word, the same intonation of voice. the arms that wrapped around your knees as you crouched fell back and you finally muster up the courage to look up.

this was all either a figment of your hallucination or that by some twist of fate, eunseok was standing over you. somehow, through a series of (un)fortunate events, you came to a quick conclusion that the latter was true. hesitantly, you pull yourself together and got up to your feet with the help of his offering hand. it seems that even in a situation like this, your heart can't help but flutter at thought of his touch. your dedication to a love life of abstinence down the drain just like that.

you only manage to mutter a subdued "thank you" before rushing to the door for some air. you've studied there enough times to know the door is a pull not a push, but no matter how hard you tug on the handle, the obnoxiously large gateway just wouldn't budge. your heart pounds against the safeguard of your chest as you feel the hot air of his steady breath on the crown of your head. he approaches your side only to be greeted with the same futile attempt over a shut door. they must have locked up early unbeknownst to the both of you when you lost your mind over a pseudo shadow encounter.

sometimes life throws out a wild card and traps you behind the locked doors of the school library after hours. no amount of knocking, yelling or pulling on the shut knob of the oak door could save you from this ticklish torture. with the gush of the pouring rain interfering with cell service, your sanguine shot at dialing any number on your phone also lets you down. you flounder to the ground with your back against the wall, your energy depleted and your hope ran slim.

"we'll have to wait until the morning staff clocks in in the morning." to your disbelief, he broke the fragile silence.

eunseok took the spot across from you with his back against a collection of encyclopedias. you briefly message your parents in hopes that the signal would come through when the shower starts to fade. out of his black nike heritage backpack, he pulls out two bottles of peach soda and an uneaten sandwich only to tear into halves, mindlessly offering you each a piece. does he not know how staggering each and every one of his moves make you?

"the gs25 egg sandwiches and this sparkling drink are my all time favorites, thank you" you chirp, in effort to kill the stuffy air.

"i know, i got it in the convenient store across from our station" he muttered, unthinking.

his brazen declaration made you choke, your esophagus begs to breathe as a piece of toast hinds its entrance. your brain instantaneously flashes back to the plastic bottle that would sit on the right corner of your desk after recess. you always assumed it was an underclassmen braving declaring their interest but now you've come to realize that you have never expressed your interest in it anywhere else other than during the long waits at your bus stop.

whatever bit of rationale left in you begs you to not get ahead of yourself. you, however, takes it as a green light to make conversation.

"hey, do you know what major you're choosing for college counseling?"

"child psychology." eunseok's answer startles you. you were guessing finance or accounting, something to match his logical disposition.

"but my grades are unsteady so im unsure." he says in passing.

"let me tutor you." you offer with vigor and he nods near automatically, you were almost sure you could see him fight a smile.

"we take the same bus home, we can review a bit on our way back. only if you would like to of course, i can come up with a learning plan."

he beats his reddish flush to speak, "can we start right now? we have time to kill." you softly tap the space next to you twice and he gets up before you even finish the first.

the two of you have never been in such close proximity of each other. you have always been in his orbit, but it was never enough to make contact. if eunseok was the unwavering earth and you were the persevering moon.

you learn that he's been there since free period, tasked to set up the new influx of books as a punishment for being tardy. you also learn that he couldn't make it on time because his white poodle, charlie, required immediate veterinarian attention after hurling all night. in the world filled with phony personalities and kids doomed to mediocrity, your heart fluttered at the thought of someone with genuine, authentic convictions. you revise literature devices and math formulas for hours, nonetheless his eyes never lost focus. your unimpeded voice brought him more clarity than any high paying academy ever could.

the storm reaches an all time high as the clock strikes midnight, you can't help but stretch out your limbs in exhaustion as your body dozes off to sleep. but who were you kidding? despite the physical need to shut your eyes, your brain could only beg to stay still.

a shift.

you could hear a soft shuffle but you wouldn't dare open your eyes. all you could do was sense his body moving closer to yours. his hands reaches out to delicately push your head to rest on his shoulders.

you hitch in breathing.

if only humans could communicate through telepathy, or you were mythically born with a divine skill to read minds. maybe then you would finally see how smitten he was all this time. only then would you know how he kicked his blanket, restless with apology when the point tip of his umbrella pricked your skin, or how he stopped bringing his litre tumbler, afraid you would fall, or how he fought his anxious silence only to miss the chance to express his sorry when his shoulder grazed yours in the dining hall. you were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own, you never noticed his nervous tick of biting the inner corners of cheek as he gives himself a peptalk to finally call out your name.

"thank you, for giving me a chance." his whispers only for himself to hear. despite your desires and inhibition, you reluctantly fall into a slumber, with a inkling feeling this conversation won't be your last.

by the time the sun makes it's daily appearance, his frosty demeanor fades and you awake to his blazer as a blanket for your knees and a newfound tenderness for one another.

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redtsundere-writes · 2 months

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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader

Part 6. In My Hands.

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Mentions and sexual harassment. Angst. Humiliation. Cursed words. Word Count: 3551 words. A/N: Hello peeps! This is a kind reminder that you need to fix your posture.

I still remember the terrible day I met Naoya Zenin. Six years ago, my first coach told me that I had to expand my horizons if I wanted to reach my full potential, so he sent me to the top jiujitsu gym in the country. This was before Team Black Gym even existed. The Zenin dojo was a beautiful temple on the outskirts of traditional Kyoto. There were several satisfying zen gardens, tall bamboo stalks and small ponds with beautiful koi swimming around. I felt dirty stepping into such a pure and sacred place.

I shyly walked into the dojo. I had taken off my shoes to step on the tatami, so I wouldn’t get it dirty. The place was packed with fighters training the same move at the same time on the count of an old man who was analyzing each one of them. The walls were decorated with display weapons, scrolls with calligraphy, flags, and symbols of martial arts. The sensei started a break as soon as his eyes landed on me.

“Welcome, you must be the student Geto sent,” he said while his eyes analyzed my physique without impudence.

At that time I didn't have so much muscle, and it was obvious that I was a beginner compared to them. I had barely been training jiujitsu seriously for two years. I was sure he thought I was just a scrawny, innocent girl.

“Thank you for letting me into your dojo. I promise I will try my best,” I said, bowing politely.

“You are not part of this dojo yet,” he corrected me. “I’ll test you to know if you really belong here,” he explained serenely.

I nervously tightened the strap of the gym bag across my body. I was used to facing off in national competitions, but this was different. I would have to fight someone from the Zenin family, someone who had probably practiced martial arts since birth. Someone who was light years ahead of me.

The sensei called out a blond boy with black tips, he was taller and more muscular than me. A very attractive boy, but that didn't matter now. Was I supposed to face a man? I had only faced women before, could I really beat him? In that case, I had to show off so I wouldn’t disappoint Geto.

“Meet my son, Naoya. If you beat him, you can stay,” Naobito explained without further ado before he went to sit on a small cushion that was on a step at the back.

“Nervous?” Naoya asked me as we stretched out in front of each other to start the fight.

“I have never faced a man before,” I confessed.

“Don't worry, I won't be so rough with you,” he said with a smile.

“Naoya, such behavior is unacceptable!” Naobito exclaimed in annoyance.

“I'm sorry, I just can't hurt such a pretty girl,” Naoya smiled warmly at me.

I think it was the first time I felt my heart fluttering for a boy. That only made me even more nervous. Not only am I facing a boy for the first time, it would be the first time I would be facing a boy I like. So far he has only been kind and warm towards me. I wish he had stayed that way.

“Please, give me your best. Make me try my hardest,” I asked him nicely.

“I like your attitude,” He complimented me. My cheeks couldn't help blushing at that.

After Naobito announced the start of the fight, Naoya went straight for my ribs with a kick. He was extremely agile and fast. I could barely dodge it on time. I knew this wouldn't be just like any other fight. All confidence vanished in me with each jab that made my feet instinctively recoil. I was fast, but not fast enough to dodge every punch.

I was a floor fighter by instinct, so my best strategy was to take him down. I contorted my body to try to apply a headlock, but he wouldn't let me. He was like a worm slipping through my fingers. As soon as he maneuvered to grab my wrists tightly, I knew I had made a big mistake. Naoya was also a floor fighter. Luck really wasn't on my side this time.

We were two contortionists fighting for dominance. Time was a blurry concept, my limbs were screaming for a rest and my mind was arguing with my body that we had to resist if we wanted a place among the Zenin. I would do everything in my power not to lose this fight.

I elbowed him in his exposed cheek in a window of opportunity. I took the opportunity to pin him against the ground, his arms were against his chest and he was kneeing me in the back. I thought I had the fight won, but I didn't consider my opponent's amazing flexibility. He wrapped his right leg around my abdomen and cornered me against his other leg, knocking me to the ground with the strength of his legs in an instant.

“Shit,” I gasped trying to regain control.

Naoya, having both arms free, was tearing me apart with jabs coming right and left. He had me cornered against his body like a dangerous boa as he was beating me relentlessly. I could only cover my face so he wouldn't knock me out. I was trapped, there was nothing I could do. I hit his back three times. Naoya stopped and separated from me completely.

“Good fight,” he said with his voice cracking, tired as I was.

Naoya offered me his hand to help me up. I snorted and took it kindly, I had to behave like a good loser. I think that was the moment I started to like him. Even though he was sweaty and slightly beaten, he still looked like a damn angel. His smile was intact, his hair was unruly tousled and his green eyes looked at me tenderly.

“She got Zenin on her, I like her,” Naoya said to his father after I thanked him for letting me fight him.

“Yes, it's just what Geto promised me,” Naobito mentioned while scanning me, still. “I've seen enough, tomorrow you start,” he warned me before announcing to the others that the class would continue soon. “I did it!”, I thought excitedly with a big proud smile on my face.

“Congratulations and welcome,” Naoya shook my hand again in celebration. “Do you by any chance like Chinese food?,” he asked me out of the blue. I looked at him curiously while he smiled at me.

That damn fake and hypocritical smile glittered in Team Black's small meeting room. Sukuna and the rest of his team were analyzing Naoya's fights to plan a strategy for the big fight. I had dedicated myself to watch each of his fights closely since I escaped from Zenin Gym, just to see how someone else would beat the smirk off his face, but all those hours were finally coming in handy.

“We can see that he is a good floor fighter with high stamina,” Gojo explained as he looked at the textual analysis of all his fights.

12 wins with 4 losses, a great streak without a doubt. Long and defined arms, strong legs and a beastly stamina. Half of his fights have ended quickly because he has cornered them against his body and the others have been by judges decision. He was still a superb fighter and has only improved since I met him.

“We should go to the floor. Give him some of his own medicine,” Gojo said without taking his eyes off the documents.

“I disagree,” I said while watching the fight on the screen.

“I agree with Gojo. Sukuna was able to beat Toji Fushiguro in the last fight, he has improved a lot in floor fighting thanks to you,” Nanami commented.

“I'm not saying that because I think Sukuna is not a good floor fighter, he is, but we can't go with floor in this fight,” I explained. “Naoya has two types of opponents: weak and strong. He acts very differently depending on which one he fights. The visit he paid us a month ago wasn't just to annoy us, it was to see up close what he's going to face soon,” I argued.

“And which one am I?” Sukuna asked me, raising his eyebrow with curiosity.

“Strong,” I stated. “He has only faced opponents that he has declared as strong 3 times. Yuta Okkotsu, Toge Inumaki and Aoi Todo when he got the stupid idea to fight for the heavyweight belt.”

I had seen those three fights live on television. The satisfaction of watching him suffer on the cage was better than any orgasm I've ever had. I had been watching him from afar all this time, I knew him better than he knew himself. I knew exactly what I was talking about.

“The weak are the opponents he knows he can beat easily, that's why he goes to ground quickly. With the strong ones, he usually takes his time because he knows he has no chance of beating them and only relies on his incredible endurance,” I explained.

“What exactly is your plan?” Gojo asked me, not convinced by my idea.

“We have to tire him out. Keep boxing and avoid the floor. Get him out of his comfort zone,” I explained.

“I don't think that's the best option,” the white-haired man answered.

“She knows him better than all of us. We stick with her plan,” Sukuna said determined.

“Is he defending me?” I thought surprised. I didn't think he would do something like that. I assumed he would be on Gojo's side being his lifelong trainer, but I think he noticed that this fight mattered more to me than to him. Sure, he wants to keep his belt, but I want to break his pride. He was fighting for honor, I was fighting for revenge.

“I agree with her. Sukuna is a great boxer, and now he knows how to escape from the floor. That way he can tire him out for the last rounds,” Yuuji commented.

“Well, I think that settles it,” Nanami sighed looking at Gojo.

We left the meeting room, Nanami and Gojo went back to the office, while Sukuna, Yuuji and I were going back to training. I already had a foolproof training plan in mind to get my champion in his best possible shape. I would do anything to see Naoya suffer live.

“Thank you for defending me back there. I assure you that you won't regret it,” I promised him.

“I didn't defend you, I just made a good decision,” Sukuna said without paying much attention to me.

“Call it whatever. Thank you,” I smiled at him anyway.

He looked at me like he always did, cold and serious. Every day I felt that I was getting closer to him. We may not have been the best of friends, but Sukuna knew he could trust me completely. I was really proud to have progressed that way with him.

“Let's train!” I exclaimed excitedly.

“I'm sorry to interrupt you,” someone said behind Sukuna. It was the physiotherapist, Shoko. “It's time for your session,” she reminded us.

“That's right,” Sukuna checked the time on his phone. “You can go now. See you tomorrow,” he said goodbye before following Shoko to her office.

Sometimes I was surprised how often Sukuna needed so many sessions with the physiotherapist. It was at least one every week. When I was fighting, I didn't need more than one session a month. Well, that was until I messed up my neck, in which case, I went three times a week. As soon as they entered the medical room, I turned to Yuuji.

“Something wrong with him?” I asked curious.

“What are you talking about?” He asked me confused.

“Is Sukuna physically well? Why does he need so many sessions with the physio?” I clarified.

“Don't worry about him. He's fine,” he said with a small blush running down his cheeks.

“You're a bad liar, tell me what's wrong,” I asked him.

“Well, it's just he has… “sessions” with the physiotherapist. Do you know what I mean?” he asked. Yuuji said the word “sessions” with a wink.

Is Sukuna fucking the physiotherapist? That made perfect sense. She was the only woman in the gym before I arrived for a reason. I just couldn't see her being his type. Shoko was very pretty, but it seemed like she didn't put much effort into her appearance. She always wore the same clothes, plus she smoked constantly, so she always reeked of cigarettes.

“I would never have guessed it,” I commented.

“Neither do I. It's hard to tell with him, though. He's never had a girlfriend or even dated,” Yuuji commented.

“That damn personality is the problem,” I thought. Sukuna was a ridiculously attractive man. While I was researching workouts that I could implement into his training, it occurred to me to look up his name on the internet. The first thing that popped out at me was the cover he appeared on for Men’s Health magazine. He looked amazing in the skin-tight bathing suit they had put him in while he was getting out of a pool. The drips sliding down his body, the tattoos decorating his sculpted body and his piercing gaze. My mouth dropped to the floor in shock.

“But I guess he's got the girls going crazy,” I mumbled in envy.

“Yeah, he was the bad boy of the school. They all wanted to date him,” Yuuji explained.

I could imagine him arriving at high school on a motorcycle like a rebel, leather jacket and dark glasses. Posing like a real unattainable hunk out of a chick lit movie. The girls surrounding him as he walked through the halls, not paying attention to any of them.

“But he was once a horny teenager, he must have liked someone,” I commented.

“I don't remember any girls at our school that he liked, but he would blush every time Megan Fox was on-screen when we watched Transformers. I'm sure it made him feel a type of way,” Yuuji said, trying not to laugh at the memory.

“I don't blame him. Megan Fox made all of us feel a type of way.”

We both started laughing and then said goodbye. The drive home was quicker than I thought it would be. I started mentalizing everything I needed to do when I got to my apartment. Doing my laundry, planning this week's workout, making my lunches, doing the dishes… So my mind was entertained until I got to my building.

I walked up the stairs slowly, tired from today's workout, until I reached the fifth floor. I walked through the halls to the rhythm of the song playing in my headphones. I was almost there. I was so happy to finally rest for a while, until I saw an obstacle in front of the door.

Naoya was standing in front of my apartment dressed in a suit and a small bouquet of my favorite flowers. “What the fuck is he doing here? How does he know I live here?” I wondered as I stopped in my tracks to remove my headphones. He quickly noticed my presence and smiled at me like the cynical fucker he is.

“You're finally here, I still haven't learned your work schedule,” he said while scratching the back of his neck.

“Have you been following me again?” I asked upset as I approached him.

“I just want to make sure you're okay, that's all,” He answered. “Look, I brought you your favorite flowers.”

Our fingers brushed as I took the bouquet. That simple touch made me remember of moments what I wanted to bury in the graveyard of my memories. When we were a happy, loving, healthy couple, before he became an obsessed maniac. I threw the bouquet roughly at his feet in total rejection and slapped him.

“I don't want anything from you. Get the fuck out of here before I punch you for real,” I ordered him.

“Why are you playing hard to get and cold?” He asked as if he really didn't know why.

“Because when I was easy, you almost raped me!” I exclaimed without shame that someone else heard our argument, if this could be called an argument. Talking to Naoya was like talking to a wall.

“It doesn't count as rape, you were my girlfriend,” he spat.

“You drugged me, asshole!”

“Whatever, I already apologized for that,” he said, downplaying the issue.

“I don't care about your apology, why can't you understand that? It's one syllable, no, no, no! Shall I tell you in Spanish? ‘No!’” I shouted in annoyance.

“I will do my best to make you forgive me and get together with me,” Naoya said as he came closer to me. I walked away at her pace.

“And I will do everything I can to get you to stop bothering me,” I answered.

“Oh yeah?” He challenged me. “Why don't we bet on it? Since we want different things.”

“I'd rather make a deal with the devil than with you,” I snorted.

“If Sukuna wins, I'll stop bothering you forever and admit that I wanted to rape you,” he offered without hesitation. “Is he really so confident that he would win?” I thought intrigued.

“What if you win?” I asked.

“You'll have to leave Team Black and join the Zenin Clan again.” Well that was less bad than I thought, knowing his twisted mind.

“Why do you want me to join the Zenin clan?” I asked confused.

“I know I can't force you to fall in love with me again, for God's sake I'm not a monster.” Cynical bastard. “So I thought that if we spend a lot of time together, as you used to do, you will want to come back to my arms,” he explained.

“You're crazy,” I said.

“It's a great deal,” he said. I just shook my head to ignore his proposal, waiting for him to just walk away before entering my apartment. “Or don't you have faith in Sukuna?” I hate to admit that felt like a slap across the face.

“Sukuna is going to kick your ass,” I barked.

“Then let's bet if you're so sure,” Naoya offered me his hand to agree to enter the bet.

“You better hold up your end of it,” I said as I accepted his handshake.

“May the best man win,” he said before squeezing my hand to place a kiss on my knuckles. I pulled it away from him and wiped it on my sweatshirt. He picked up the bouquet from the floor and handed it to me. I reluctantly took it so he would get the hell out of here.

“Go away,” I ordered. Naoya smiled at me and left the way he came. I followed him with my eyes until he was out of my sight. As he was about to take the stairs, he turned around.

“Remember that luck is on my side, beautiful,” he said with a wink.

I used not to believe any of that before. I was sure that luck didn't exist and that the only thing that existed was unique opportunities. Believing in luck is for weaklings like Naoya who don't trust their body and abilities. That's what I thought until I met Sukuna.

“Luck may not be on my side, but it is on Sukuna's,” I said imitating his cynical smile. Naoya reciprocated and walked out of my sight.

Quickly, I entered my apartment and closed the door behind me. I dropped my gym bag by the entrance to go to the window. “No way was I going to keep this,” I thought. I opened the kitchen window and threw out the bouquet of flowers like a football as far as I could. I slammed the window shut and leaned against it to take a deep breath.

My pulse was racing. I felt anxiety invading my chest and my memories were rushing through my mind. I removed the scrunchie that held my hair in a ponytail to run my fingers through it in an attempt to calm myself.

I sat down at my small dining room table and pulled out my notebook to begin planning this week's training. I pushed out the tip of the pen with a “click”. I tried to write the first day's name and it wouldn't release ink. I scratched the entire sheet, but the ink just wouldn't come out.

“Fucking hell! I exclaimed in annoyance as I threw the pen across the apartment.

Tears filled with anger and frustration began to roll down my cheeks. I pulled my hair as I cried over the notebook. I was sick of living in fear, of Naoya always knowing where I was, of him not understanding that I didn't want to go back to him. These false memories bombarding my mind every time I saw him made me mad. I had to end this. I had to finish him off no matter what. Yes, he would fight against Sukuna, but I must pull some strings behind the scenes to ensure our victory.

Masterlist.

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romeulusroy · 11 months

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Succession Preference: Dating A Famous Singer

Requested: Can I request a preference where the Roy siblings are dating a famous singer? - anon

A/N: I hope you like it my love!!! Thank you for requesting it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Connor has no idea what you're going on about. He is very disconnected from any industry, but especially the music industry. The only new artist he listens to you and that's because you play live for him so that he doesn't have to figure out Spotify or Youtube or anything like that lol. Depending on the genre, he might not totally be into it, but overall he loves it because you made it. He tries to go to as many shows as possible and proudly shows off his VIP status so that he can get backstage to see you, always with a bouquet of flowers to congratulate you on another wonderful performance. When you career really takes off and you need to go on tour across the country/world, he's there right beside you, the whole time. He couldn't be prouder of everything you've accomplished.

Kendall listens to all types of music, so whatever genre you sing, he loves. You always get embarrassed realizing he's listening to you. Turn that off! You laugh, fighting with him over his phone. He sings you your own lyrics too, loving how you get all embarrassed. Really, he's so proud of your career. You've worked so hard and put in so much time and effort. He's never known anyone so hardworking. He was there when you were singing at bars and open mics, frustrated, close to giving up. Now you've got thousands of fans, him included. He helps you with new songs and talks to anyone who will listen about you. He loves going to your concerts and blushes every time you dedicate your songs to him. He doesn't care what his father says, that it's not a real job, a real career. He loves you and he loves your music. You love it and that's what matters.

Shiv she's so funny I love her loves to support you, but mostly from a distance. For a few years now, every few months, you've been on tour. That means different time zones, that means face timing and calling when you're both free, that means a lot of night spent in an empty bed. You know she's busy, that she can't just drop everything to fly across the world, and neither can you. It puts a strain on your relationship, but you try to lessen it as best you can. She listens to all your music and is the first in the room to proudly proclaim that yes, she is your girlfriend. When you two get together, you're all praise for the other. You, a rock-star, selling out millions of albums. Shiv, a political firecracker ready to take over as CEO. You're a power couple. She loves most to listen to you practice new songs and try out new lyrics, listening from outside the room, the sound of your voice taking away all her stress. She fell in love with that voice.

Roman baby boy stays as far from the spotlight as possible. Your relationship isn't really public. Not that you meet in secret, but your dates are typically quieter and far from where the paparazzi can reach you. You wish he wouldn't be so shy when it came to your relationship, but you understand why. Fans are constantly shipping you with other artists, with friends, with band mates. He'd rather not get caught in the middle of that. He listens to your music a lot when he's by himself and of course has all kinds of jokes for you. Did you know that you and Harry Styles are allegedly dating? I hope he's a better kisser than I am. You and your drummer have been hooking up this entire time, haven't you? If you're not doing them, then I will soon. You know he's only kidding, telling him to shut up. You're with him, you choose him, end of story. When you're not home with him, performing or on tour, he definitely uses your music as a comfort.

#requested #preference #headcanon #connor roy #connor roy headcanon #connor roy x reader #kendall roy #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy headcanon #shiv roy #shiv roy x reader #shiv roy headcanon #roman roy #roman roy x reader #roman roy headcanon #succession #succession headcanon #succession x reader

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jessicalprice · 1 year

Text

undiscovered country

(reposted from Twitter)

When I have the emotional bandwidth to look at Christians and ex-Christians flailing at Jews and Jewish stuff rather than just wishing they’d tend to their own process and practice and leave us alone, the thing I want most for them is to learn to encounter cultures and traditions and practices that are different from theirs without immediately trying to force them into an analogy or paradigm with something that’s familiar to them.

Sometimes I wonder if there’s even any actual spirituality in authoritarian Christianity, because the one thing I understand about engagement with the sacred is that it’s a way to cultivate awe and learn to face mystery without rushing to reduce it to something comprehensible.

And that matters in every area of life. It matters for loving people. Every other person you encounter will always in some ways be a mystery, and if you can only love what you fully understand about them, you love a reflection of yourself, not them.

It matters for learning—ESPECIALLY in science. If you rush to force what you’re seeing into a paradigm you’re familiar with, you often end up with either incomplete data or bad interpretations of data.

It matters for engaging with cultures you’re not part of. If you’re not willing to stop demanding that they immediately make sense to you, you end up misapprehending them and, often, disbelieving people about their own worldview and experiences.

I remember the first time a massage therapist worked on my psoas muscle.

I immediately tensed up and literally started involuntarily crawling across the massage table away from her.

She asked me, “I want you to take a moment and think about whether this actually hurts or whether it’s just an intense, strange sensation and you expect pain.”

It’s hard, when it feels like someone’s touching an internal organ or something to relax, back up, and just be receptive and feel rather than trying to categorize and react. But she was right. It didn’t hurt, I didn’t need her to reduce the pressure. It was just new.

It’s really, really okay—I promise, you can take the time and space!—to encounter something in another culture and just absorb without immediately trying to understand. I don’t know that I can explain how to get there beyond, just let go for a minute and be.

Like when you taste something new, you don’t immediately have to categorize, oh, this tastes like chicken! You can just sit there for a moment and let it be new. If you don’t, I don’t think you’ll actually fully taste it.

When I have a sensation experience like that and I can just sit and absorb for a bit, I feel like I can feel parts of my brain that didn’t talk before connecting. If it’s something like a wine tasting where I'm supposed to describe and compare immediately, I don’t sense that.

And I just wish people deconstructing Christianity, who often seem really prone to demanding Christian paradigms for everything, would try that. You can do it with people things as well as sensation things.

I think sometimes that you can’t really perceive other people, both on an individual level and on a cultural/societal one, if you expect to fully understand them. You definitely can't have an I-Thou encounter with them, in the Buber sense, or be face-to-face, in the Levinas sense. Understanding usually grows, but it has to have space to do so.

It’s not easy, of course, and it’s not something any of us can do all the time. There are important reasons our brains look for patterns and analogies and categories.

We can't constantly be in an I-Thou relationship with the Other and we don’t need to. But I dunno, I think it’s important to learn to

oscillate, maybe?

just let go sometimes and perceive absorptively rather than categorizingly?

There’s that infinitesimal moment before you put a concept or understanding into words and you can learn to extend it and not make what you’re encountering into something. Just MEET it, you know? And this is sort of like that. It’s how you actually listen to another.

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5am-mist · 1 year

Note

angst with bellie bel

Strangers.

°pairing°> bella ramsey x reader

°summary°> you can't help but get excited when Bella says he has something to tell you. Only to get your heart crushed moments later.

°requested°> yess!

~°A/N°~

i am still working on your requests so please don't sorry if i haven't posted your req yet! Also sorry if this sucks im still not feeling well but i felt bad leaving your guys' requests for so long and i didn't want anyone ro get mad at me lol. so i wasn't sure what direction to take this in and i lowkey suck at writing angst but i hope you like it! I used he/him pronouns for Bella! thank youuu for the request love you<33

You and Bella had been best friends for a while now. You used to do everything together, go everywhere together. Recently though you two had been growing distant and it killed you. You loved him far more than a best friend should and you knew that.

Bella had been out of country for filming and in the beginning it was like it always was. Facetiming every night, messaging you whenever he was on break and constantly updating you on his plans. You remember the late nights where he'd tell you how filming was and about his new cast members.

With time however that seemed to stop. No more factimes or messages and when you'd reach out you were always met with a "im busy rn" or "maybe later" only to never hear back from him.

You were upset and angry to say the least. You just wanted an explanation as to why suddenly your best friend was no longer making an effort to talk to you. It was the day Bella flew back home. You marked it on your calander back when he originally flew over.

You stared at your phone re-reading Bella's text over and over again. "hey can i come over? i need to tell you something really important." you cursed yourself for getting excited, for thinking he was going to tell you how sorry he was for shutting you out. Were you really gonna let him come over after he practically ignored you for months on end? Yes, you were.

"sure." You thought about typing something more, anything more but at the same time you felt he didn't deserve it. It wasn't long before he showed up.

You let him in and closed the door behind you, he made a bee line for the couch but you stayed standing. "You're not going to sit?" he sounded confused.

"No, I'm fine standing. What did you want to tell me again?" you urged him. "Straight to point are we? Uh..well I'm not sure how to say this but i uh got a girlfriend. Macy, you remember her?" you were crushed to say the least and all you wanted to do was cry.

Of all the people aswell. It had to be Macy, the Macy that Bella used to talk about on facetime with you, the Macy Bella had been working with for these past months, the Macy you never actually got to meet. "oh. yea i remember her." the pain was evident in your voice and tears were pricking your eyes.

You see, at this point you weren't even that upset that Bella had a girlfriend no, you were upset that Bella had been shutting you out and practically ignoring you all this time because of her.

"What? What's the matter?" he demanded. Not a hint of concern in his voice. "I just, i don't know what to say Bella" you weren't lying you really didn't know what to say to him. "Oh i don't know maybe a I'm happy for you would do?" he stood up at this point and you could tell he was getting agitated.

"I can't. I can't say that I'm happy for you that would just be lying." your voice wavered. "Why can't you just be happy for me then? Your my friend thats what you're supposed to do." Appalled was what you were.

"So we're gonna play that game huh? Alright, friends don't randomly stop calling each other. Friends don't dismiss each other when they're very clearly trying to reach out. Friends don't leave the country and essentially cut you out like you were never even that important. Im so sorry i can't be happy for you. Im so very sorry that all those nights you were having fun in a different country with your girlfriend i was here in my apartment trying to find out what i did that was so wrong it pushed my best friend and love of my life to the point where he no longer wanted to talk to me."

You aggressively wiped away your tears waiting for him to respond. "oh. i didn't-" you cut him off before he could even finish. "just leave Bella. Im tired. I have been waiting months for you and now you're back and i never wanna see you again. I don't want your petty fucking excuses and i don't want your half assed apology and if you're expecting an apology you wont be getting one so i suggest you just go."

He looked at you with regret evident on his face. A part of you begged for you to apologize, to make thigs right again but it had already been done. You couldn't take back what was said. He stopped for a moment as if he were going to say something but decided against it and walked past you towards the door. You didn't bother turning around, you almost couldn't. "Goodbye."

One word. It shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. You knew that one word was the last word you'd ever hear from Bella and you hated it. You thought about stopping him. You thought about calling him. You thought about how things would be if you had just put on a fake facade for that one conversation but at the end of the day you didn't. You didn't call him. You didn't stop him and you didn't act happy for him that day.

You two were strangers now. Strangers with a backstory. Strangers who'd stay up all night wondering what your life would be like if you were still friends.

#bella ramsey #bella ramsey x reader #the last of us #lgbtq #tlou #hbo the last of us #tlou hbo

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agust-june · 9 months

Text

Creep

Yuta x blk reader smut

A/n: This is part 2 to this post. Here, I wrote what came to mind, so I hope yall like it.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI oral, unprotected sex (please in this economy and in the country practice safe sex use protection please) oral sex (m receiving), thigh riding, thigh fucking, cheating, gaslighting, everyone is a shitty person but Mark who minds his business.

Ever since the party, Yuta has been frustrated. You had been avoiding him and his texts. He knew it was a game, and yet he wanted more. Especially when he saw you last week dancing in the club. You were dancing alone, looking him in the eyes as the rhythm of the music overtook your body. He wanted to dance with you. However, as he was walking towards you, another man swooped in, and you accepted. As Yuta watches from the crowd dancing with some random ass girl, he isn't interested in watching you as you smile wickedly at him. Taunting him in this game because he knows once he gets close, you'll leave just like that. Yuta leaves the club as Lisa calls him, asking where he is. But that was last week. Tonight was a different story. Instead of coming home to Lisa and her usual "Hey. How was your day?" And a kiss on the cheek. He came home to an upset Lisa who had a suitcase.

"What's all this?" Yuta asks, confused as Lisa wipes her tears. Her eyes were slightly red as if she were crying for hours.

"I'm leaving. Yuta, I can't do this, " Lisa says as she gets up and rolls her suitcase, but Yuta stops her.

"What are you-"

"I know you're cheating,"

Yuta freezes but acts normal on the outside. But inside something was telling him no. The guilt rushed in, and the fear of losing Lisa spiraled.

"What? Cheating? Where did you get that?"

"Oh? Yuta, you don't talk to me! You're partying with Mark. You don't take me on dates! It's like I'm living with you but you just ignore me like I'm not even there" Lisa exclaims she was frustrated with him and though she didn't have proof she knows Yuta was in Y/n's hands. That hurt her even more wondering if he was seeing that evil bitch.

"I just have a lot going on. Just because I'm not making time with you doesn't mean I'm Cheating. Also, you could come to meet me or go to parties with me" Yuta defends. Though he was guilty of cheating he didn't want to lose Lisa altogether. So he bothered not even telling the truth.

"Or you can stop going altogether" Lisa snaps having Yuta taken aback.

"What?"

"Oh come on Yuta I know you went to parties to see her!" Lisa yelled, making Yuta surprised as he calmed down on the inside. Why and how was she watching him? Well, he knew the Why part. Ever since Y/n answered his phone that day Lisa had been clinging to him. Asking him where he was going. Who he was going to be with? When will he be home? Or tell him to come home early. But Yuta hadn't known the real conversation that transpired between Lisa and Y/n.

"What are you talking about? I go to parties to relax," Yuta says as Lisa just scoffs. Her jealousy and insecurities showed.

"Yeah right. Y/n is just magically at the party and you don't see her right?!"

"No! Of course, I don't!" Yuta yells feeling frustrated. Why couldn't Lisa let it go? He thought.

"You wanna know why I'm so stressed? Why do I go out every other weekend to party? Because of you! Lisa for the past two months you've been nagging me! Then I'm working on top of getting a degree. Do you think classes are easy?"

"No but-

"Listen. I'm not looking for Y/n or anyone else if that's what you think. I appreciate you and everything you do for me. Now please can we stop fighting? Put your stuff back" Yuta says as Lisa did what she said not willing to argue about it. She loved Yuta and trusted him. She felt stupid of course Yuta wouldn't cheat. Yuta on the other hand was glad she pressed further. Though he hasn't done anything for a month that doesn't mean he was innocent. The worst part is he knows it, he knows that if she found out the whole truth she'd leave him.

Lisa looks at Yuta and he looks back at her. The next thing the two know is that their living room was a mess and they somehow ended up in the bedroom kissing. Yuta didn't know if it was because he was so frustrated but he realized he missed you, no Lisa. He had forgotten how her lips tasted and how her voice sounded when she moaned his name. Even how she touched him. But it wasn't the same his mind kept comparing her to you.

"W-wait stop stop stop" Yuta pushes himself off Lisa as she looks at him confused.

"I-I have a long day tomorrow. Especially in class-

"See this is what I'm talking about Yuta! You won't have sex with me now!"

"I told you I'm just not in the mood tonight. I'll be busy in the morning, is that what you want?"

"No! But it's never stopped us before! Yuta I just want to touch you, babe, please...I want you to make love to me" Lisa whispered in his ear as Yuta nodded. He knows if he brushed her off now she'll never be satisfied. As they continued what they were doing, Lisa started working on his clothes. Yuta hisses as he feels his girlfriend's cold hands run down his chest and works at his belt. By the time the pair were ready, Yuta realized he needed protection. Lisa wasn't on the pill he would know because she would tell him before she had gotten one.

"I need a Condom-

"Yuta it's fine I'm on the pill," Lisa says but Yuta doesn't listen and he goes to get one.

As the two were having sex Yuta didn't feel the same, his mind was going back to you. To a point where he was imagining it was you under him screaming his name while making you feel good. Meanwhile, Lisa felt the pleasure that she was craving this whole time she knew something was different he was rougher and going faster. He's never done that with her before but she wasn't complaining.

"Say my name" Yuta heard you say but he doesn't say anything, feels himself almost coming apart. He didn't say anything because he was afraid of saying your name loud and clear. Once everything was said and done Yuta of course helped clean everything up but also waited until she fell asleep. He waited so that he could slip out and go to Mark's place.

Hearing the desperate knocking on the door Mark swings it open to reveal a disheveled Yuta.

"Bro it's 1 am Why are you here?" Mark asks but he doesn't let Yuta in.

"Because you have hard liquor I can get for free," Yuta says trying to come in but Mark doesn't let him. Now he's even more concerned as to what transpired between Yuta and Lisa. If Mark wasn't mistaken Yuta went home.

"Okay, do you wanna go out? I can put on my stuff and-

"Nah I just wanna come in ooh we can watch Netflix now too" Yuta smiles but Mark looks at him nervously.

"Yuta, man my apartment is real messy why don't we just go out and I'll drop you off at home," Mark says and it was that moment

"What, do you have a girl or something? If so tell her to leave I need to vent" Yuta says

"Well yes, but I-

"Oh relax you've told your hookups to leave before why is this any different" Yuta brushed past Mark walks into his apartment his place was spick and span. He started heading to Mark's room but he let him in and nothing. But the guest room.

"YUTA!" Mark screams as Yuta turns around to look at him.

"Why are you so scared? Are you that embarrassed of me seeing you hook up? Is there something you want to talk about, are you gay Mark? Because you know I full except you"

"No. Look I love you man but if you can't respect me or my privacy get the fuck out" Mark told him which hit Yuta real hard to him Mark scolding him was new.

"Sorry man alright if you don't want me here I'll go," Yuta tells him as he's heading for the door he'll just go back home and think about things by himself. Mark felt guilty all Yuta wanted was to vent and here he was pushing him out.

"Shit! Yuta wait! I'm sorry you can stay but you gotta keep it down-

"Mark it's one in the fucking morning who can you be talk- Oh shit" Mark mentally curses as he sees Y/n walking out of the guest bedroom. Yuta looked at you, his eyes weren't deceiving him, it was you. You were wearing nothing but a button-up and a bonnet. No shorts or anything.

"Yuta listen it's NOT what you think"

"I'm fine. I don't care" Yuta says calmly and rationally. Though he did have questions like why were you here? How long have you been here? Were you sleeping with Mark too?

"Look if yall wanna hang out cool this is not my place but Mark please keep it down," you say Feeling Yuta's eyes on you. You weren't going to explain anything to him, just let Mark handle it.

"Y/n can you please explain to Yuta that it's not what it looks like?"

"No. Why should I? It's your house. Besides we're not together I have nothing to explain" you snap trying not to smile knowing you're eating away at Yuta.

"Mark like I said I don't care if you're fucking or dating I have Lisa. Besides I just came over to say something but I think I'll go Lisa would be worried"

"Yeah, you should. She certainly will be. She doesn't want me to fuck her boyfriend"

"Like I would ever fuck you" Yuta laughs at you and you smirk. Trying to deny what he already did.

"Oh, you didn't say that the last time" Yuta hitches his breath as he realized how close you were. "If I could recall you couldn't keep your hands off me. You wanted to fuck my brains out. Remember Yuta?" As you had gotten close to Yuta he could smell the intoxicating smell of your perfume. As your body came closer and sent him driving he wanted to kiss you. Yuta leans over to kiss you but before he could you curved him and went to his ear.

"If you think I'm gonna sleep with you when you smell like her you're wrong," you say, pushing him away from you. The tone sent shivers down his spine the way you said it. As Yuta watches your figure disappear off into the room and the door closes. How did she know? Yuta asked himself, hearing you lock the door.

"Dude you got fucking issues," Mark says snapping Yuta out of his trance of you. Yuta then decides to have Mark go out for a drive around town. He explains that Y/n was at his place because two weeks ago some pipes in her house broke and they were doing maintenance on it so it'll be a month before she could go back home. He then explained while she was here she's been respectful and hasn't brought any guys home which Mark is thankful for. Sometimes she even cooks for him. Then Yuta explained his situation to Lisa. From the cheating conversation to the sex conversation.

"Wait wait- dude that should've been the time to tell her the truth!" Mark hits Yuta's arms

"I know! I know... But I feel bad. I just can't let her go" Yuta sighs letting out a huff in frustration. He combs through his hair thinking of you.

"Meanwhile you want to fuck Y/n right?" Mark looks at Yuta giving him the 'you stupid bitch' look. As Yuta falls silent, Mark was right he was being stupid though he didn't say it.

"Look, you're getting too messy. You better decide on who and what you want or things will get ugly" Yuta sighs Mark was right again. But he honestly doesn't know how to let go. He's greedy and he knows it. He wants a relationship he likes Lisa however he doesn't know if he can let her go. Yuta ends up staying the night before he goes to bed he texts Lisa making up a good excuse. He needed to clear his head and get some sleep.

The next morning he woke up to the smell of your cooking and the soft humming. He opens his eyes, stretching his arms before sitting up. He watches you move around the kitchen, your hair tied back with a headscarf. You wore a very oversized T-shirt making his mind wander off. Once again he was tempted to walk over knowing he should put on his shirt and leave.

"Good morning" Yuta greets you snaking his arms around you from behind. You smile at him, allowing him to rest his head on your shoulder.

"I missed you Yuta"

"Oh really?"

"You think I don't mean it?"

"Not with that tone" Yuta states caressing your sides. The two of you rocking back as you finish the first batch of bacon.

"What tone?" You move from his grasp moving to the table.

"You know which one?" Yuta leans into you, placing a small kiss on your neck. Trying not to form a smile you move away from him.

"I don't know Yuta, why don't you tell me?" Yuta grabs your chin forcing you to look into his eyes. He looks into yours as well. They were filled with nothing but lust.

"You know exactly which face. Trying to play innocent when you're nothing but a slut" his thumb ghosts over your plump lips wondering if they were soft or how they tasted.

"Yuta-

"Can I?" He asks the pad of his thumb on the bottom lip you nod but he needs verbal consent.

"Say it."

"Yes kiss me please" Yuta's lips automatically go onto yours. It was like lightning shooting through your bodies. Your hands go everywhere from his chest to his neck and his hair. Yuta's hands wandered from your breasts to your ass and your thighs. From there he picks you up, placing you on the table. Both of you moan as you wrap your legs around him pulling him closer. Your hips dry humping against his bulge. Yuta has you lying on the table pushing your shirt up. His lips going to your breast sucking and biting on one tit and palming the other. You moan as he licks down your stomach before pulling down your shorts and panties.

"You're so fucking pretty for me" Before he could go down the two of you hear yelling.

"Yo what the fuck-

The two of you look at Mark in shock quickly getting up and off the table. You pull your bottoms back up and Yuta finds his shirt from the floor putting it back on. Not a moment later the smoke alarms start blaring. You then remember the stove was still on. Yuta cuts it off as you try to fan the smoke away.

You and Yuta sit on the couch as Mark paces around. Yuta felt a bit of shame about what he was going to do to you if Mark hadn't come in.

"Alright Y/n you have a new rule. Don't fuck Yuta in my apartment got it?"

"I mean~ it's not my fault Yuta can't keep his hands to himself" Yuta looks at you he wants to say something back but he stops himself.

"I don't care if it's you or him. Do not fuck in my apartment. Actually move over both of you are too close for me"

"That's what you call close? I can be closer Yuta wouldn't mind me on his lap right Yuta" that tone rang through his ears. The way you say his name sounds like honey dripping from your tongue. You were bad for him and he knows that, but he can't pull away. Like a drug addict, he was addicted.

"Oh hell no. Stop distracting him. Look! I don't care if you two are hooking up. I gave my advice just don't bring your mess into my apartment if you wanna fuck? Go ahead but not here. That's my boundary don't cross it or so help me God Y/n you will be on the street" Your whole body became stiff understanding what Mark said. You then stand up walking up to Mark.

"Alright, I'm sorry. It won't happen again" Yuta and Mark look in awe this was the first time he's heard you talk so sincerely. Usually, you're nonchalant or laughing while apologizing.

"Well, I'm going to go to my room let me know when he leaves" You go into your room and as soon as the door closes Mark looks at Yuta.

"What?"

"What?! Come on in my kitchen? Is she that fucking good to have your head messed up? And what are you going to explain to Lisa?!"

"Don't worry I texted her and told her that you needed me to meet with you and I slept over" Mark looked at Yuta like he was dumb. He was stunned to make words come out of his lips. Here he was thinking his friend felt remorse for cheating. Here he thought Yuta was in love with his girlfriend and was trying to fix his relationship. The truth was there in plain sight to see.

"Okay. This is the LAST time I'm helping you. Get your shit together." Mark uses a firm tone as Yuta says quietly sinking into the couch.

"You can cheat all you want. You can go back home to Lisa. Just leave me out of your mess. Don't come to me when it blows up in your face. Don't worry though I won't tell Lisa anything it's all on you or Y/n. Now get your shit and get out of here" Mark's words hurt Yuta deeply. Of course Mark wasn't going to help him and it wasn't fair for him to help build a lie Yuta understood that. So with those last words Yuta left Mark's place.

Old habits die hard and for Yuta you were a nasty one. While staying with Mark, you and Yuta exchanged numbers. From texts to calls to sneaking in the middle of the night to fuck in his car. Sure it was cramped but he didn't care. Then when your house was fixed he went over to your place a lot and he had to do a lot of tip toeing around Lisa. In the day time he'd take her out on small dates when she didn't have to work. Or on Sunday when she was off they'd spend the whole day talking. The days that he did spend with you was utter bliss. Last Thursday he took you to an arcade. The two of you competed over who could get the most points. You played the whole afternoon and into the night. By the end of it Yuta ran out of money but it was worth it as he got you one of those big prizes. He remembered how you smiled as all his points went to you. It was nice seeing you outside if the two of you were having sex. That wasn't the last outing you had together either. He took you to museums, cafes, a karaoke bar, fancy restaurants, and bowling. But that didn't stop there either, next thing he knew he was confiding in you. Leaving his things at your place.

Yuta was in his apartment just getting ready to meet up with you. When suddenly he hears knocks at the door, when he opens he immediately pulls you inside. He pulls you in for a quick kiss, smiling.

"Welcome to my home"

"Oh this is nice. Let me guess Lisa did all this?"

"Yeah she redid it when she moved here" Yuta looks around awkwardly. Of course you'd have questions if you'd never been to his place before now. He watched as you looked around the room. There were pictures of Lisa everywhere which made Yuta feel embarrassed.

"You know we could've done this at my place we still can" you suggest

"I know I just thought it would be perfect since Lisa isn't here...we could, you know, have an easier time," he explains, pulling your waist towards him.

"I'm not here to fulfill your girlfriend's shadow Yuta"

"I don't want that...I just want you" Yuta whispers, pulling you closer as he looks at your eyes. He could smell your perfume on you and your hair was different today it was in a more natural state. Honestly he preferred it that way those tight coils coming together amazed him.

"Yuta?"

"Huh?"

"You're staring at me"

"So? I thought you liked me looking"

"I do. But-

"Shh let me stare at my pretty girl" he coos as you pull him into a kiss. Immediately responding Yuta brings his tongue into your mouth. Feeling your tongue wrap around his, the only thought running is how your tongue wraps around his dick. Your hands go straight to his hair and the choppy back of his neck pulls him into a deeper kiss. When the two of you pull away you drag Yuta to the couch.

"Watch me" you say as you take off your jacket, pulling up your shirt slowly. Yuta looks at you as you slowly pull down your jeans revealing a nice navy blue lingerie set.

"Fuck"

"You like it?"

"Turn around for me" you obliged slowly turning your hips to give him a nice view of your ass. Yuta reaches out but you feel his presence behind you so you quickly swatted his hands away.

"Don't touch me until I say so" Yuta's eyes darken as you walk over to your purse pulling out three pieces of fabric. When you go back to Yuta you put on this garter belt. Then you bent over stepping into some black lace stocking. Yuta just stared at you holding back the urge to jump you right there.

"I'll be going back to the bathroom for a bit" you say walking away and when you disappear from his sight Yuta lets out a groan in frustration. Yuta closed his eyes, picturing you again. How you pulled up these socks then he started thinking about your ass. How he wanted nothing more to grab it and bend you over this very couch. He wanted to see your thick thighs shake as he fucks you from behind. How he'd pull you by your hair as he pounds into from the back. Imagine you screaming for him as you ride him with the garter and the socks on. When you came back Yuta was there glaring at you bringing his index and middle finger up to curl them back and forth signaling you to come over.

"Sit on my lap Y/n" You smirk simply doing as you were told as you sit right on his lap. Yuta immediately wraps his arms around you.

"You are so fucking pretty" he says kissing your neck. His hands rub up and down your thighs. You could feel how hard he was behind you, his bulge pressing against you. It made you excited to see how turned on he was for you.

"Yuta-

"How are you so wet baby?" He asks, teasing you, rubbing his fingers over your panties. Pushing into the lace making it more damp with your slick.

"Hmm? We barely started and you're already soaked. Tell me how?"

"Yuta please" you whine squirming under him, your hips pushing up begging for him to touch you.

"Answer me baby. Did you touch yourself in that bathroom? Couldn't wait for me? Hmm?" You whine as he pushes your panties against your folds. You did go to the bathroom to touch yourself but you weren't going to admit that as it was a failure. You couldn't cun you needed more.

"Come on what happened to my good girl? Do you want me to punish you baby? Have you not cum at all tonight?" Yuta grabs your breasts and shoves his fingers inside you. You moan in satisfaction as he brings them in and out your hole.

"I did!"

"What baby?"

"I touched myself in the bathroom" you let out as Yuta smirks thinking of ways he was going to break you. His fingers didn't stop moving however while they were inside you they curled inside of you. You were a mess on him, your head was tilted back resting on his shoulders. Until he had an idea.

"Ride my thigh" he whispers but you didn't hear him at first so he decided to play with your clit more. It wasn't until he knew you were close that he pulled his fingers out making you whine.

"Ride my thigh for me baby then you can cum" he promises tapping his left thigh. As soon as you get onto his thighs Yuta grabs your waist on both sides. At first he lets you move on your own. You close your eyes feeling your stomach tighten as your lips brush against the Jean material. You hold onto Yuta for support holding onto his chest. Yuta groans, feeling you soak up his jeans, but you were going too slow for his liking.

"Go faster baby" you let out a whine when Yuta smacks your ass. You go faster as he instructed until he started gripping your waist harder, pushing and pulling your hips. Yuta comments on how wet you are. How he can't wait to fuck you.

"I'm- I-" you were out of breath but Yuta knew what you meant.

"Cum for me Y/n" and you did your thighs shaking as you cum on his jeans. Yuta rubs your back as you cry against him. Once you calmed down Yuta had more ideas. As he was still hard watching you get off was the hottest thing he's seen and he wants to see it again. Yuta pulls you into another kiss this time more sloppy than the last one. You broke the kiss getting off his lap and onto your knees. Yuta begins unbuttoning his pants and zipping his fly down. You help him pull down his pants and underwear making his cock spring out. He was so hard his tip was even leaking with pre cum. Yuta groans as you wrap your hands around his cock and stroking it slowly. Yuta looks at you with your pretty hand with your blue nails going up and down his shaft.

"F-fuck Y/n just like that" Yuta let's out as you take him into your mouth. Your pretty thick lips making his dick disappear down your warm wet throat always had an affect on him. His hands went to your hair pulling in it gently, your tongue swirling around his dick as Yuta groans. He closed his eyes imagining how you'd look in 69 position. In his bed eating you out while you do the same for him. Wanted nothing more than to taste your juices licking your cunt making you whine against him sending vibrations onto his cock. Yuta started grabbing your hair tighter as you sucked harder and faster, his hips moving against your mouth. It wasn't until he let out a broken moan and thrusted a little too roughly as he heard you gagged. He opened his eyes immediately.

"Shit! Are you okay? Baby im- ohhh fuck!" Yuta didn't even finish as you went back to sucking him off this time taking him deeper into your mouth.

"What a pretty slut you are. Taking my cock so well baby" he cooed as tears started to form up. Yuta was so close he just needed a little more to get on the edge. He takes your hand and places it on his balls. Making you fondle and play with him.

"Here- baby play with- ohh fuck yes you're so good at sucking dick- f-fuck!" You almost pulled off of him taking your free hand and stroking his shaft again while sucking tip before moving your hand and taking him into his mouth. Yuta cums into your mouth fucking it into you as he releases. You moaned at the salty taste, swallowing every drop of it.

"How was it?" You ask Yuta who is a panting mess as he laughs at you breathlessly.

You don't remember how you got here but sometimes your clothes were discarded and you were now bent over Yuta's table. Your thighs soaked with lubricant as Yuta stood behind you kissing down your spine. His hands meanwhile were kneading your ass and your cunt. He was getting ready to fuck you from behind but he wanted to play with your body like it was his toy. You were shaking and whining as you felt his cock rubbing between your thick thighs to your wet folds. It felt so good when you felt his hard dick against your lips and then vanished. The tip occasionally rubs against your clit.

"Please!" You cry out making Yuta smirk

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Please Y-Yuta! I-I need you!" You whine frustrated as to why he hasn't fucked you yet.

"Need what, baby?"

"Your cock!"

"But you already have it right here" his smug face as he looks at you squirm beneath him trying to fuck yourself using his cock between your thighs though it wasn't much. All it did was make you ache more.

"You know what I mean!" You press your thighs together making Yuta groan in shock but that didn't last long as he sharply fucking your thighs again before shaking your ass.

"Beg for it then" he growls

"Please! Yuta I need you to fuck me"

"Not enough baby. Beg for daddy's cock some more" Yuta's groans in frustration as he feels your wet cunt begging for him to fuck you. This was his own doing but now he was ready to stop playing games.

"Please daddy I need it! Please Yuta- I-"

Yuta doesn't let you finish as he pushes inside you, filling you up until he can't. He grunts as his thrusts are fast. Fucking you like you were leaving him. You were so wet and tight even all that teasing your poor cunt didn't even stretch. He watched as you screamed and cried while your ass jiggled with each slap when his thighs met you. He watched as you grabbed the table but it didn't help as he bent over to grab your hand. He didn't stop moving either in fact he fucked you faster.

"Oh my God!" You screamed as Yuta licked your ear before biting it. He let go and started whispering how he's been waiting to fuck you like this. How good you feel on his cock. Just degrading you in any way possible.

"Daddy!" You scream as Yuta raises your body up so that he could touch your tits, grabbing them and kneading them, feeling them bounce in his hands. Not long after Yuta slows down his pace making you whine but he had other plans. He moves one hand from your breast up and licks up your neck before grabbing it thrusting harder. You scream and feel yourself clenching around his dick so hard. You shake as Yuta holds you, calming you down. But that was only the start.

The night was a blur after that all you remembered was ending up in his bed. Yuta looks at you in the eyes as he slows down his pace looking at you in the eyes. He was holding your hands while making love to you. He wanted this to last for more than one night. He wanted your scent all over his sheets to his mattress. He wanted to be yours.

"Oh fuck- I'm gonna cum baby"

"Yuta!" You moan feeling yourself cum for the 3rd or 4th time tonight. Yuta leans to kiss as you calm down from your own orgasm. Yuta was chasing his own, keeping the same sharp pace. But it wasn't going to be too long as you free one of his hands you wrap around his neck along with your legs around his torso. You pull him in closer bringing him to the edge as you feel his cock twitch inside you.

"F-fuck! Y/N I love you" your eyes widen as you feel Yuta cum inside you. His body completely shudders and breaks down as he continues to kiss you and saying I love you. You lay there in shock at his words before crying.

After cleaning up and showering you and Yuta laid in bed on your side. Yuta was holding you and rubbing your arm as you looked at the wall. You thought about his confession. Did he mean it? Or was it in the heat of the moment? More importantly you had to sort out your own feelings. At first you were using him for your own personal gain. But now things were different and you felt different about Yuta.

"I got these and the other sheets for you" he says

"Really?"

"You look pretty in blue" he admits playing with the sheets as he looks to your backside. Marked up with nothing but slight bruises from the earlier activities. Yuta wanted this to be his every night and wake up next to you every morning. He wanted to bring you out on dates and just love you how you needed to be loved.

"Y/n"

"Hmm?"

"I want to break up with Lisa." Your stomach drops at Yuta's works. You turn your body around, trying to confirm his seriousness.

"I wanna leave her for you"

"Yuta-

"Y/n I love you. I can't go on pretending I don't"

"But-

"I know you love me too," Yuta says, his hands pulling your body closer. You kiss him, and he instantly kisses back. The two of you spent the rest of the night kissing and holding each other.

In the early hours of the morning, you snuck out of the bedroom, leaving Yuta sleeping alone. You went into the living room to make a small phone call.

"Hey Jae, it's me. Listen to those photos you took of me and Yuta... delete them. I have what I want. She's gonna flip her shit when she finds out I have her little boyfriend or soon to be ex-boyfriend. My revenge is going to be so damn sweet. Anyways, I'm gonna enjoy this and tell Yuta everything. " With that, you end the call going back to the beat, seeing Yuta still sleeping. You crawl back into bed, getting under the sheets and playing with his hair and stroking his face. Your heart flutters, admiring how beautiful he is. You couldn't help but feel excited to date again. Sure, you've gone on a date with Yuta before. Those "hangouts" weren't just that they were more. You weren't stupid. Soon, you don't have to be low-key with him. He was yours all this time from the moment you met. That made you happy, but happiness is a short feeling. It's only a temporary high as you were being watched. And the person watching you was not happy.

#nakamoto yuta smut #black y/n #yuta nakamoto x reader #yuta nct #yuta smut #yuta x reader #black kpop stans

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the-joy-of-knowledge · 2 years

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A Guide to Being an All-rounder.

Being a student in itself is exhausting. However, the pursuit of curiosity is so rewarding that I can't even resist. Each time I define who I am, I don't remember saying I am a finance major, I am much more than that. I define myself by my interests and this has taken a while to build. An all-rounder is a person who is good at a lot of different things (academics, skills, activities, hobbies).

A how to guide:

Pick up a sport and follow it up, either by practicing or watching experts play. Mine is tennis.

What is something you wish you could do? Start working on it. For me, I wish I can speak French.

What class have you taken outside of your major that interests you I found psychology so interesting and I would read about something related to this at least once a week.

Look at nature, biology, and humanity and find what fascinates you: I am fascinated by the brain and the wonderful things its capable of doing. Every now and then I tend to read articles or watch videos that explain how the brain works. I am currently reading about neuroplasticity.

Imagine your dream self, what she knows, and begin working towards that. My dream self knows how to cook and bake, she uses her knowledge of wines to entertain her guests. She holds intellectual conversations, and she's familiar with the world of Arts and literature. With these, I am able to create leisure activities for myself that are interesting.

Take actions

Give yourself a challenge, recently I memorized all the countries in Asia. Now, I can tell what continent every country is in.

Treat learning like a game and enjoy the process.

Use your interests as leisure activities (play sports, watch a movie in French, try cooking foreign food, play a game of guessing the experts with your friends, read a small book, watch a documentary on YouTube, or do a memorization game.

Have a list of everything you have learned, you will be amazed by the things you are capable of knowing.

A part of learning is also taking breaks to rest.

Enjoy the pursuit of curiosity!

Black Pearl.

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nikolaidelphiki · 5 months

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my not-necessarily-romance opinions on all the romanceable palia villagers in no particular order:

Elinar. Bruh I want to get to know you but I suck at fishing. So theoretically we should spend more time together but you just keep calling me fascinating and tipping your hat. I'm not trying to flirt. I NEED legitimate help.

Nai'o. Good manners. Supposedly hard working but we all know you are slackalackin' and just taking your shirt off for the ladies. Do the math, we know who you're showing off for, and it ain't me.

Tish. City girl that came to the country. So sweet. Please come over and decorate my house. I mean that in the most wholesome of ways.

Reth. What can I say? He's at soup. Funny, charming. Can't sleep because he either has a shady job on the side or he killed a man. Maybe both. Also I was really hoping "Reth" was short for something like Rethignald or whatever.

Jel. Living under crushing expectations and secret insomniac. Gotta check our compatibility chart because idk if I mesh well with the youngest sibling of SIX. He's my type tho. And Fashion? Yes. We talk every day about the crushing existential dread for sure.

Jina. She's the first person you meet! I LOVE her! Left her family in the pursuit of knowledge and I respect that. Also as a fellow mushroom fanatic, I could see us chillin' together.

Hassian. Mn. Yeah. So. First of all Rude. Second of all Rude. But all the juicy gossip and lore from his mom and others makes me want to get to know him, and also the fact that he's an archer. I need my bow and arrows ok, nobody else is selling these recipes. Kinda want to punch him in the face tho (affectionate).

Kenyatta. Girl you need help, but that's okay. We all do. Secretly well read if only because there was nothing better to do which I can respect. Let's go egg your house together.

Hodari. Ok. Look. I legally can not romance this man even if I wanted to. That's my dad?? Like so many aspects of his backstory from being a single father to the back pain. Y'all might want that but I'm built different.

Tamala. Have y'all met her? Amazing in theory, but long distance in practice. She don't even get mail from Auni. IDK how we are even supposed to make it work if she can't be bothered to come to town. This is a two-way street lady.

#palia #palia spoilers #i um really love this game #i might do impressions of the non romancable characters next #then compare my opinions later on in the game #its only been like five days

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ace-hell · 4 months

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Something very frustrating about the whole i/p is how people view this place

The MENA is the only place in the WORLD where ppl try to rewrite its history and force indigenous-ity over its colonizers just bc the colonizers aren't "white European". instead of accepting the place was colonized and moving on and try to learn the native cultures and stuff

The brits know they colonized america and a big part of the world

The germans know they caused the holocaust

The mongols know about chinggis khan horrible rein and the massacre of millions

The american know they are not natives to america

We all know about the greek, roman and ottoman empire were conquering and colonizing land

So why can't arabs accept that they are also colonizers? Its ok, every nationality did horrible shit throughout history but instead of accepting it they just force themselves into nativity- ofc with time they mingled with the natives and most of them are mixed- but it doesn't cancel anything. Now the west and practically the whole world CHOSES to ignore history. As if the fact that you are not light skinned/white/european means that you can NEVER oppress or do something horrible.

Altho arabic is fund by different native languages it still originated in arabia peninsula(saudi arabia) just like islam and the arab identity. But bc it happened almost 1500 years ago and sound so far in the past people just choose to ignore it and in the end, with the israel-palestine conflict it hurts jews and our history bc no arabic is not indigenous. Its not nablus, its sh'hem and was called that name even BEFORE abraham was even born. Even islam isn't indigenous the canaan- Christianity and judaism are.

Im not shaming or anything but self awareness is important.

Bc we all from the same area then ofc there will be A LOT of similarity with the clothes, food, music etc just like there are a lot of similarities between Japanese and chinese culture altho they all are different its just NORMAL. The problem is that bc jews were colonized so much, everyone destroyed everything we have, bc of the diaspora jews gathered the cultures they grew up in from different countries and brought it with them to israel that's why "israeli culture" is made of a lot of different cultures worldwide, not bc "they stole it"

Israel is the ONLY place in the world that got successfully decolonised and rebuild and the world has never been angrier about that. Just mind blowing

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ixveee · 12 days

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Averygrayson Headcanons Before Bed!!

yes, i ship avery and grayson. i don't think jameson is all that. no, i do not think he is a cheater. i know that averyjameson is already endgame. please don't come at me in the comments/reblogs.

(read my ao3 fic This Game Can't Last Forever (by zinnias_on_venus) for more averygrayson content from me, i update at least once a week)

OK TO THE HEADCANONS

• Avery and Grayson love to travel together. Grayson takes a bunch of photos, and its perfect because Avery adores sight seeing.

• Both of them have a tendency to overwork themselves, so sometimes the other will force them to take a break from Foundation work.

• Speaking of the Foundation, they share an office and they always leave each other little notes on their desks.

• Grayson loves coffee, so Avery always makes him a cup in the mornings.

• They read books together (romance, mystery, historical fiction, you name it) and have really heated (in more ways than one) discussions about the plot and characters.

• Grayson always takes Avery to different plays and musicals. Though not always Broadway, sometimes it's just the local theatre group performing!

• More often then not, they fall asleep cuddling on the couch.

• Grayson loves shopping for Avery.

• He buys her so many clothes, she had to use a second closet.

• On their travel journeys, they always visit poorer cities/countries and donate a bunch of stuff to them.

• Grayson especially loves the kids, and Avery thinks its adorable.

• Avery sometimes gets Grayson to read her children's books, and she thinks it's the funniest thing when he does the voices.

• For her twenty-first birthday, Grayson, with the help of all his brothers, organized a House-wide scavenger hunt, where with each clue there was a gift.

• The final gift was Toby. Grayson had Zabrowski distract E*e while he snuck Toby out. He also had all the contracts burned (don't ask how, Hawthorne magic), so Toby was free.

• Avery cried so much, and she kept thanking Grayson everytime she saw Toby.

• Whenever Avery gets hate comments, Grayson absolutely destroys the person on his NonErrata575 account (he can't use his main one or else he'll get cancelled or some shit idk).

• Avery got him to wear the leather pants again. That's all I'm going to say.

• They shower together, but nothing sexual. Just wash each other's hair and other coupley fluffy stuff.

• Bubble. Baths.

• They both like to swim, and Grayson teaches Avery his favorite strokes.

• Grayson is a better swimmer, but Avery is better at diving and tricks because she used to do gymnastics before her mom died.

• Avery LOVES hanging out with Gigi and Savannah. They drag Grayson along on their girl time though, sometimes, because he's basically "one of the girls" (Gigi said it first) (my friend calls a bunch of boys at my school this)

• They make a gingerbread house together every Christmas Eve, and then eat it while drinking hot chocolate and watching Home Alone (they do it religiously every year).

• Not really Avery and Grayson, but Nash is basically both of their therapists (like they go to him when they need help, not like couples counseling lol).

• Grayson sometimes has really bad days when all he can hear in his head is Em*ly telling him he's not good enough and will never be worthy of Avery.

• He gets really depressed and doesn't talk to Avery, or anyone, at all.

• When that happens, Avery gives him his space, but at night she always makes sure to give him extra kisses and cuddles, and tell him she loves him.

• It always makes him feel better.

• Every year for his birthday, Avery gets him a personalized mug, pen, and a new tie (he loves practical gifts).

• They go on double-dates with Max and Xander, and sometimes Nash and Libby.

• Beach trips every summer. Avery and Grayson absolutely love the summer heat and tropical beaches.

• Grayson also sometimes sets up one of those little fancy tent things that companies do for like couples (idk what they're called but if you've seen one you'll know what I'm talking about), and sometimes Avery does it for him.

• They get a cat to keep Tiramisu company, and name it Canolli.

• They're both allergic to birds.

• Avery makes him wear color suits sometimes (shocker I know).

• Grayson has like an Atlantic accent, which he copied from TV, but sometimes his country slips (kinda like Young Sheldon), and Avery always tries to record those moments.

• Grayson and Libby actually become really good friends because of Avery, and bond over their love of their siblings and cooking/baking.

• Same with Avery and Nash, except they bond over how they like to keep a simple life (for the most part), and didn't really care about having billions.

• Grayson never drinks when Avery does, he needs to make sure he's 100% sober in case she needs him (Grayson would drink, but he can hold his liquor well and doesn't drink a lot).

That's it cause I actually have to sleep now lol, hope you liked them!!

#the inheritance games #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #the brothers hawthorne #avery x grayson #averygrayson #avery kylie grambs #grayson davenport hawthorne #the grandest game #jlb #jennifer lynn barnes

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vermillioncrown · 1 year

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so, what's up with korvin's parents?

they're just normal people. they just have their circumstances and korvin doesn't want people putting their ignorant opinions on them.

but what's really up with korvin's parents? (+ a deeper discussion on my other fics, why the SI MCs are the way they are)

Getting Real™️ warning: reading this might provide context that turns you off my fics.

if you want to keep enjoying light-hearted snark as it is, don't read. if you read this, i request you do not come to me to argue a contrary interpretation of my writing. i know where my brain worms come from, please and thank you.

===

They are stated to be undocumented persons in chapter 1. They intentionally abandoned Korvin in the US. Korvin's reaction is he does not want anyone's judgment on the situation, because chances are it will be 'well-intentioned' but without context, kinda racist and classist, and he's an adult in a kid's body. He gets the kind of pressure that he, as a 'weird kid', as who should be his parents' first-born son to make it in America, would put on his parents. There are no other relatives here to help. They are too poor to be careful parents and do more than financially support their child, just barely. Mental health and superstition are greatly tied in Chinese culture, so he also squicks them with his 'unnaturalness'.

Their choice to leave him in the US is a far-shot hope that while they can't support their kid properly, he'd at least be to stay as a Dreamer and somehow make it.

And how do you begin to explain all that to someone? And better yet, how do you control the gut clenching reaction to someone's judgment of your situation when there was no good choice? What if someone accuses you and your parents of taking advantage of the US legal system, as if you're cockroaches that don't 'deserve' where you are right now?

It's better to never leave an opening for someone to judge. Or if someone has to say something, you just smile and nod, because you usually can't afford to say anything back to them.

I don't make this blatant in the fic because that's 1) insensitive 2) I don't want to deal with people's ACTUAL ignorant opinions 3) it's kinda meta and ingrained for me to be circumspect about this stuff, even if it makes up an essential part of Korvin.

===

It's cosmic comedy, I think, that I'm doing an application that needs me to submit a statement on my academic interests and diversity within my professional career. What is my past experience with that? What is my future intent? How has this impacted my goal to join academia?

I'm almost 30. And growing up somewhere metropolitan, moving all over the country, interacting with people of many walks of life and knowing there are many more I don't interact with...I've been through a roller coaster of perspectives what makes a person distinct. Their distinctness isn't just personality, even if personality isn't so flimsy that a different day will change someone so completely. Yet, we're all shaped by where we come from. Our background, culture, class, sex, environment, etc.

This might be rather obvious, but over the years I've read fic I find that it's a quality and philosophy that doesn't come across often. I'll focus just on SI and OC-insert fics since that's the most relevant. Perhaps it's the type of fics I read, perhaps it's the fandoms, perhaps it's the demographic, perhaps we have too much practice in accepting some Everybody who is Everybody as a baseline regardless of how well that Everyone resonates with us personally.

Of course, not every fic is written for every audience. And different people will always have different perspectives. But I want you to ponder these metrics: I've read fanfic since 2003. Non-stop. I would average 20-50k words a week as a preteen, and ramped up from there. SI and OC make a big portion of what I engage with because I find it a fascinating examination of canon material using an external force, or something like that. They also have the potential to be deeply developed super quickly because we, as amateur authors, really can't help putting a lot of ourselves without filter into our creations. It can lead to polarizing feelings over them because of that.

It's been twenty years, and I can count on one hand the number of SI and OC fics where I legitimately felt that I understood where this character came from and they make sense to me. The rest...some I understood where they came from in the same way I need to empathize with the people around me so that I don't offend them. As a kid and teen, that meant ostracization and bullying. As a professional, it means missing opportunities, also getting bullied, being sabotaged, being used and tossed away. I have to show sympathy, bend my brain to see what makes them 'them' and see how sensible it is for them so that I can survive and thrive.

Some I had to accept that we either lived in vastly different realities in which such a character is sensible, and that's just the world we live in; or they're just bonkers. We move on.

I am compelled to write because I want to explore something that I find has not been explored. If it was already done to my satisfaction? I have literally felt my interest dip like a video game health bar in that situation.

My MCs as SIs cannot be divorced from my background. Ostensibly, that's the square-shaped brain with the math and engineering, the ADHD, and the internal snark. But those traits don't exist in a vacuum. Luckily my interests aligned with my parents' hopes and dreams for me as poor immigrants to the US and I am the first to have an advanced degree since my family has been wiped through the Cultural Revolution; though they were lucky enough to be sponsored by an aunt that married a missionary.

The ADHD was undiagnosed because god forbid I had Problems, "What do you mean Vermillion has problems? She's so bright! She never has to study! She has so much potential!" I have a brother who has problems, and both culturally American and Chinese I have been trained to Not Have Problems because I'm supposed to keep the household together. Plus, we're poor. We can't afford that! We're poor, we have family problems, AND our child has mental issues? They already say enough shit about Chinese people, jeeze.

The internal snark--it does hurt a bit inside whenever I see the reaction to my brand of humor in my fics as if it's meant to be expressed to tell people off, mic drop, actions having no consequences. You know what that is? It's coping. It's also developing the social wherewithal to be circumspect because your livelihood depends on it. And beyond just me, the internal pressure of carrying my family's expectations and wanting to not make their sacrifices in vain--that doubles the risk.

No fucking way do I mouth off without thinking (not since I was actually eight, and learning ever since), and that's why my characters are the way they are. We see a spectrum of them: Zhu Yunxun that needs to put up a front to maintain societal privilege and also is lucky to be born with money and lineage; SI!Taiga with money, physical + mental advantages, gender on his side, and talent; Lan Wenhui born into lineage, physical advantages, privilege, and talent, but still a woman; and now...Korvin Kwan with only the advantage of youth and male privilege. I am a point of departure for each of these and despite whatever gains that have been made with these new lives, I know myself well enough and have been burned before that it's instinctual to not grow into that privilege as if you've always had it.

Zhu Yunxun needs to walk a delicate tightrope of politics and intrigue and is wildly windmilling in the air, even if they're staying on.

SI!Taiga is so baffling to the Clown Gang because he doesn't act like a typical cocksure talented sports boy.

Lan Wenhui...she has her convolutions to be revealed.

Korvin is perpetually at the end of his fucking rope (like, what's Bat-WIng-Guy gonna do? Kill him for swearing? It'd at least cut out the middlemen for child trafficking), and just managed to trust Dick and Babs. Now that he has some sort of solid ground beneath him, that's where we get the chapter 4 code switching and masking.

Actions, and speaking is an action, have consequences and my SIs are me. They live with that philosophy.

We see ten million and one characters that like to loudly and boldly declare themselves, with the implication that they truly believe everything they say matters and will make a difference. They will be heard!

There's no catharsis for those who need to keep it in, where catharsis isn't actually worth it.

You might think: well, that's just on you. You choose to internalize this, you choose to make your family your pressure, you choose to not speak up--

And then I would point out, again, that culture and background makes people. Being diaspora, it influences what I find socially important. And it's even more important because I grew up poor. There's a realm of difference between the professional and well-off Chinese diaspora vs the ones that had to cram in the slums of Chinatown. My family was luckily not at the tail end, but we were nothing like the well-off (I'm lucky that we've essentially achieved the vaunted American Dream, now). To us growing up like that, family was your support network. Regardless of how shitty they are, what they do, the cost of cutting them out was rarely worth it.

And now that I've gone into my professional life--I'm lucky enough that I've either made others think they can't talk shit to my face, or my poker face was strong enough to survive the utter bullshit I've heard told to me like it was the weather. I thank them for their time, and I do what I need to do to navigate the situation. Usually, I don't have the power to do much but survive, so I did. And now, I've reached a point where 1) times are changing 2) I'm niche and competent enough that people are too busy listening to what I have to say than condescend me 3) I can shut them down if they do 4) the field I'm working in values circumspection as a whole.

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Anyways, this is probably a big bubble burst for my fics. I know a lot of people enjoy them for the funnies, but the funnies come from somewhere. I think I build compelling characters and interpersonal relationships because I work to ground them in reality and what I know and have learned through my own experiences and needing to empathize with others.

My writing is my catharsis. Every time I'm able to resonate with someone out there, I'm happy if someone completely different from me can understand, and I'm even happier if I make another person like me feel seen.

Anyways, that's my kinda intense and sad TED talk, I need to go back to writing my application statement.

#opinionated verm #redglyphs #on tpac #on dbd #on bil #on larb

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