#I know this is The Series Where Bad Things Happen
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the final [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]
synopsis: y/n and harry reach the final in the academy slam
word count: 12.2k
contains: fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, tennis rivals, smut (oral f-receiving, first time for h and yn, size kink, mostly just soft), travel anxiety, brief medical talk
a/n: extremely sorry for the wait but i hope this is worth it. thank you for being here and reading this little series. it means the world and I'm obsessed with all of u <33
this is the final part of the game, read part 3 here
. . .
In any relationship, Y/N had always believed she was the dominant, reliable, independent partner. In all of her friendships, family dynamics and even teamwork, the people around her looked to her for something that sometimes she couldn’t even give. Y/N was constantly pulling pieces of herself apart to give to those around her and at the end of the day she found herself with nothing left for herself. She was constantly burnt out, running on little energy to make it through to the end of the week.
But with Harry, her whole world felt like a sanctuary, a blue sky hidden from everybody else by grey clouds.
When she thought she knew all there was to know about herself, she was learning so much more through her relationship.
She learnt that it was important to share things, that just because Harry could read her face better than most people doesn’t mean he could read her mind. She hadn’t realised how closed off she was about her problems until Harry had found her panicking outside her classroom before an exam. It was that moment when he told her he needed her to communicate these things so he could help her in any way he could.
She learnt to accept that her love language was physical touch. She couldn’t keep her hands off of her boyfriend. No matter what they were doing or where they were standing, she was desperate to touch Harry in some way and he was obsessed with it. He loved how much she wanted him to hold her and how often she’d gravitate towards him to put her hand on his arm or hook their pinkies together. It was probably the reason why her lips were constantly chapped because she was always desperate to kiss him whenever they were near each other. Harry had told her once that our love languages developed from what we didn’t receive so much of as children, which made sense because Y/N couldn’t remember the first or last time her parents had held her.
She learned that arguments were healthy, even when they didn't feel like it in the moment. Just because Harry was her boyfriend and their feelings for each other were strong, they still ended up bickering over little things. It usually happened when one of them was having a bad day; they were both people who felt things very strongly, and sometimes that clashed. But they made a promise that, no matter what they were arguing about, big or small, they'd never go to bed angry with each other.
The biggest lesson Y/N was learning was something that she had yet to come to terms with.
Having feelings for somebody was already a new thing for her, especially feelings as strong as the ones she had for Harry. She’d never been so attached to somebody in her whole life. Sometimes when she looked at him she felt like her heart was going to explode from how much it ached to be right by him. Y/N had always believed that she couldn’t feel much more than what she felt already, that this was how good it would get- and she was okay with that. But with every passing day, Y/N found herself floating higher and higher above ground as her heart began to inflate with such an intense emotion. Every morning, she felt like she was levitating right out of bed at the thought of seeing Harry.
It wasn’t until one particular day that she realised she was in love with her boyfriend.
She had woken up before him for once. Harry had always been an early bird, and so was she before him, but she loved staying in bed with him, basking in his warmth as he cradled her to him like he was cocooning her from the rest of the world and keeping her to himself for those brief few hours in the early morning.
She was going to wake him up to get ready for school but she stopped herself. Y/N had seen many versions of Harry her entire life but this was the first time when she looked at him and saw the person who had carved a nook into her heart for himself looking so peaceful and relaxed. She’d never really thought too hard into it before, willing to let herself fall into this relationship and see where she ended up, but that morning when she looked at him - really looked at him- she realised there was only one person in this entire world who could make her feel like she was still dreaming and that was the person she loved.
Of course, she hadn’t told him that. Never. Y/N felt genuine fear at the thought of having to tell him how she felt because everything she had ever truly loved she’d had to either work for or it had never loved her back as much. Surely loving someone as much as she loved Harry couldn’t be this easy.
“Hey,” Sarah beamed, leaning against the lockers as Y/N replaced her books for her next classes.
“Hey,” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as she glanced at her shirt, “What are you wearing?”
“Do you like them?” Sarah grinned, proudly.
It was a white t-shirt with a tennis racket and a cut out of Y/N’s head plastered onto a tennis ball. The words ‘Y/N 4 court queen’ were written in red.
“Please tell me you only got one of these?” Y/N begged, feeling embarrassed.
“Well they’re prototypes so there’s only four,” Sarah explained and as she did Mitch walked towards them wearing the exact same shirt.
He put a hand around Sarah’s shoulders and kissed the side of her head before looking at Y/N, “How do you like the shirts? Me and Sarah spent all week designing them?”
“You designed these together? Aren’t you meant to be like horny teenagers or something?” Y/N tried not to laugh at their matching shirts as they stood side by side.
“We can be both,” Mitch shrugs.
“Who else is wearing these?” A throat cleared from behind them and Y/N turned around to find her boyfriend wearing his white school shirt unbuttoned to reveal the same t-shirt underneath.
“Hi baby,” Harry grinned, walking towards her and kissing her lips. Y/N’s hands went to his waist as he pushed her up against the lockers.
“And I thought we were bad,” Mitch said, “C’mon babe, I’ve got a few ideas for some more items we could sell.”
Harry pulled away as Mitch and Sarah walked away. Y/N looked up at him as he loomed over her, he was just so goddamn tall. “Missed you,” He murmured, kissing her quickly.
“You saw me this morning,” Y/N giggled.
“Hmmm,” He hooked his finger around her necklace and pulled her closer, “Do y’ like my shirt?”
Y/N laughed, “I can’t believe you actually wore it.”
“Anything to support my girlfriend,” He winks. She’d never get tired of hearing him call her that. “Did you hear anything about the Academy?”
Y/N shook her head. After winning against Astrid, she was now onto the final where she would play Courtney Avalon the only girl in the competition who had been picked to compete in a Junior Slam at fourteen. Y/N wondered who thought it fair for her to compete but she wouldn’t let it ruin her chances of winning, she’d just train even harder than she already was.
Unlike the previous games, the final wouldn’t be hosted at one of the academies instead it would be hosted elsewhere at a tennis club where professionals would play. There was no way of knowing where they’d be going, it could be in a different country for all they knew, but the final was a little under a month away and she still hadn’t heard anything about it.
“S okay,” Harry knew she was overthinking the situation as he traced his thumb over her pulse the way he always did when she was nervous about something, “We just train the way we always have,”
“Do you think I’ll win?” Y/N asked.
“I know you will,” Harry replied.
That same afternoon, Y/N was sitting in the library after school to finish her English essay on her computer when a notification appeared in her email. Her heartbeat hastened as she clicked on the email with ‘Academy Slam Final Location’ written in big bold letters as the subject headline.
She clicked on it and her eyes flicked through the long-winded introduction before they landed on the location.
Paris, France.
She was going to Paris.
With Harry.
She tried to keep her excitement at bay as she threw all her belongings into her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. She made a quick exit out of the library and ran towards the parking lot where she knew Harry would be.
Her eyes landed on him and she couldn’t help but laugh before running over to him and leaping into his open arms. “Paris,” She said and his eyes lit up.
“We’re going to Paris?” Harry asked, seeking confirmation.
Y/N nodded, “The same place they play the French Open.”
Realisation dawned on both of their faces as they understood the significance of this moment. Y/N would be playing at the same club where Harry was supposed to play before his injury. She waited to see his reaction, and a small grin formed on his face before he leaned in to kiss her.
“You are going to win this,” He says like a promise.
She nods, the weight of the moment sinking in deeper. The pressure now felt even greater than before, driven by a desire to win not just for herself, but for Harry too.
. . .
Y/N sat on the bonnet of her boyfriend’s Audi with her boyfriend standing between her dangling legs as they made out, “Are you actually going to teach me anything?” Y/N laughed, pushing him away.
Harry pretended to check the invisible watch on his wrist before shrugging, “We have time,” He leaned in to kiss her again but she playfully pushed his face away and slid off the bonnet.
They walked hand in hand to the court where Y/N put her bag down on the ground and pulled out her racket. Her eyes caught sight of Harry taking a bucket of tennis balls out of the storage shed. He looked particularly cosy today in his navy sweater and white shorts he was wearing, his hair was a little dishevelled mainly due to the fact that she had run her fingers through them for the past thirty minutes.
“Okay, so should we do a few drills?” Harry posed the question.
Y/N shook her head, “I wanna try something different today,” Harry frowned as she passed him a racket, “I want to play against you.”
She could tell Harry seemed unsettled as soon as the words left her mouth, “Y/N, you already know about my injury,”
“Just a little back and forth, if it hurts too much we can stop straight away,” She tried, hoping he would say yes.
Harry took one look at his girlfriend, seeing the pleading look on her face. Even though he knew she wasn’t forcing him, he couldn’t find it in himself to say no. “Fine, one game.”
Y/N squealed and ran to the end of the court she always played on, getting into position. She watched as Harry rolled his ankles and bounced up and down to get used to the feeling of his feet on the court. He took a tennis ball out of his pocket and bounced it on the ground.
With a playful chuckle, Harry tossed the ball into the air and served. Y/N lunged for it, returning it with a swift swing of her racket. The rally began, and each shot was met with cheers and laughter from them both.
Despite Harry's injury, he moved across the court with surprising agility, his competitive spirit shining through. Y/N knew he was at a disadvantage but still, she was in awe of how quickly he responded to her hits. Every time Harry would run for the ball, she’d find herself distracted by the muscles in his calves and thighs and the concentration on his face when the ball would go to her end of the court.
In the end, Y/N came out on top with one score above Harry’s when they decided on the last round as Harry could tell the pain was beginning to stir in his leg. She walked over to him and put out his hand to shake his, “Great game,”
Harry rolled his eyes, taking her hand and pulling her into him, “You’re too pretty, you distracted me.”
“I’ve heard that one too many times before,” Y/N smirked.
“From who?” Harry frowned.
“Oh just people,” She began to walk away but Harry quickly ran up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and spinning her around.
“Harry,” Y/N laughed, loudly, both of them ignoring the watchful eyes of passing students leaving school late.
He placed her back down on the ground and she looked up at him again, biting her lip, “Get back to those drills,” He shook his head.
“Yes sir,” She saluted but Harry stilled.
“I didn’t know you were into that,”
“What?” Y/N frowned before realising, “Ew don’t be so gross Harry,” She hit him on the arm and stormed away.
“What else am I supposed to think?” Harry threw his arms up in the air, biting back a laugh. She turned around and threw a tennis ball at him before grabbing another one and doing the same again, “Oh c’mon baby, I can live out your coach/student fantasies if that’s what you're asking,”
“You’re an animal!” She hissed.
Harry laughed and jogged towards her, kissing her quickly and running through their usual training.
. . .
Two weeks had passed until Y/N and Harry were finally on their way to Paris. Mitch and Sarah had dropped them off at the airport in the early hours of the morning with sleep still in their eyes. Y/N would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t nervous about playing without her best friend cheering for her in the stands. But Sarah promised she would watch every second of the live stream from their dorm room and cheer her on from there.
She’d also tried to call and text her parents to tell them she had made it to the final and she’d be going to Paris, inviting them to come along even though she already knew they would decide not to. She hadn’t spoken to them since the dinner and even though she was the happiest she’d ever been, part of her ached, wishing her parents cared enough to see her that way.
Harry stood beside her as they waited in line to board the aeroplane. They had originally booked economy flights but Harry was insistent they upgrade even though the flight was only an hour long.
They were both dressed rather comfortably for the flight. It was Y/N’s first time wearing a piece of his clothing, a brown knitted sweatshirt he offered her to wear this morning. She couldn’t deny the rush of excitement she felt when he tugged it over her head and kissed her forehead, “Pretty,” He said and smiled.
But despite their comfy attire, Y/N couldn’t seem to stop fiddling with Harry’s fingers as they stood in line. She was nervous, biting the inside of her cheek and trying to ignore the sounds of the planes taking off outside. It was her first time flying and even though she was excited about going away to Paris, she hadn’t considered the prospect of flying and how nerve-wracking it would be.
“Harry,” Y/N tugged on his sleeve, looking up at him. He was holding both of their carry-ons, his black bag in his hand and her duffle on his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, sensing her nerves.
“Will we be okay?” She blushes, feeling embarrassed at her question, “On the plane I mean?”
Harry’s eyes soften, “Of course,” He assures, “It’s the safest way to travel.”
“Okay,” She nods, before saying his name again, “Harry?”
“Yes baby?”
“You promise we’ll be okay?”
He smiles, putting their bags on the floor and taking both of her hands in his. He squeezes her fingers when he feels how cold they are, “Promise, promise.”
“Okay well if you’re lying I’ll probably never speak to you again.”
Harry chuckles, “I mean if I’m lying and the plan crashes then that’s probably true.”
Y/N frowns, “Don’t talk about crashing,”
“What? You bought it up.”
When they finally board the plane, Y/N immediately feels claustrophobic when she realises how small it is, “They’re loading us into a sardine can,” She mutters to herself and hears Harry laugh as he walks in front of her.
They finally reach their seats with Y/N right by the window and Harry in the seat next to her. Harry places their bags under the seats in front and moves to buckle his belt. “Harry?” Y/N says his name again. He glances at her and sees how pale her face is, “I’m really nervous.”
He felt his heart clench, it wasn’t often that Y/N admitted to feeling nervous or afraid of something. Hearing the shake in her voice made him consider getting off the plane and taking her back home again.
“Hey,” Harry cupped the side of her cheek, “Y’ got nothing to be afraid of sweet girl, everything’s gonna be fine. Might feel a little strange when the plane takes off but we’re safe and I’m right here with you.”
“I don’t know about this Harry,” Her eyes dart around and he knows she’s getting into a panic the more she thinks about it too much.
“Y/N,” Harry says her name gently, “Look at me baby,” His thumb rubs the skin under her eye and her eyes dart to him, “Can you feel this?” He gently wraps his fingers around her wrist and moves her hand to wrap around his own wrist until the pads of her fingers find his pulse.
Y/N nods, her eyes glistening, “Can you feel that?” He hopes the feel of his pulse will calm her down, “That’s it, just breathe and calm down everything’s gonna be fine.”
“It’s going to be fine,” She echoes his words as though trying to inscribe them into her own mind.
“M right here,” He comforts her, “You think I’d let anything happen to you after I just got you?”
Y/N smiles at that, “No,” She whispers, “You’re too stubborn.”
Harry grins, “Only when it comes to you.”
Y/N’s nerves were overwhelming as the plane began to move. She glanced out the window, watching the ground blur as they gained speed. Harry noticed her unease and reached for her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
“What the fuck!” Y/N blurted when the plane lifted off the ground, loud enough for everyone to hear, “This is so not normal.”
Harry snorted a laugh, “Y’ doing just fine baby,” He rubbed soothing circles on the back of her hand.
Y/N’s eyes squeezed shut as the plane tilted, a whimper escaping past her lips when she took one peek out the window to see the clouds in the sky. “Isn’t it pretty?” Harry asked, ignoring how tightly she was squeezing his fingers until the point of turning blue.
“It’s a lot prettier with my feet on the ground,” Y/N responds, refusing to relax until the plane landed.
. . .
Y/N was in awe as they stood in the hotel lobby of the hotel they would be staying in for the next week or so. Harry had insisted he be in charge of choosing where they were staying as he had been to Paris plenty of times and knew all the best spots. Y/N didn’t argue with him, it gave her one less thing to stress about and she was never any good at making decisions anyway.
The receptionist handed him two key cards and Harry rolled both of their suitcases into the elevator as Y/N followed closely behind. “Are our rooms next to each other?” Y/N wondered, admiring the lights in the elevator as they went up to the seventh floor.
Harry’s eyes widened for a second but then they twinkled with mischief. She noticed him biting the inside of his cheek like he was trying not to laugh. “Is that what you want two rooms?” He asked and Y/N’s cheeks flushed.
“W-well I d-didn’t want to assume,” She stuttered, feeling embarrassed.
Harry handed her both room keys, “Room 764,” He motioned her out of the elevator when it reached their floor and she walked ahead, scanning the numbers on the doors as she did.
Eventually, she got to room 764 and stopped. Harry was still rounding the corner with both of their suitcases so she waved the key over the scanner and saw the light turn green but instead of opening the door, she waited for it to lock again. Switching to the other key, she repeated the action of waving it over the lock only to see it flash green again.
This time she did walk through the door, putting both their bags on the ground as soon as she stepped inside. Her mouth fell open when she saw the room they’d be staying in.
Y/N had stayed in fancy hotels before thanks to her parents but this was something she had never seen before in her life. It had a high ceiling and a chandelier hanging in the middle. White curtains hung from the windows with a view of Paris right outside their window. She walked into the bathroom to see marble countertops and a deep bathtub with a separate glass-enclosed shower.
After taking everything in, she walked back into the bedroom where her eyes landed on the king-sized bed - one bed for two people.
The sight of it made Y/N’s mouth dry. It was her first time sharing a space with any boy, let alone her boyfriend, for longer than one night. Although she’d been spending a lot of time together, this was the first time Y/N would be sleeping beside him, waking up next to him, and getting ready with him. In fact, this whole trip they were all each other had.
“Do you like it?” Harry came up behind her and squeezed her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.
Y/N spun round and clung to him, “Thank you,” She whispered, hoping he couldn’t feel the nerves radiating from her.
“I was thinking we go out and get something to eat and then maybe walk by the river. We’ll be training for the next few days so,” She sighed, longing to just stay in the room with him holding her the entire time.
“I’d like that,” She sighs, eyes closing.
Harry chuckles lowly, she feels the vibrations from his chest, “Y sure?”
“Mhm,”
Harry smiles even though she can’t see, “Or we can order room service and stay here?”
Y/N seems to melt against him as he rubs circles on her back, “I like that idea a lot more.”
She was pretty sure Harry had ordered everything off the menu in the time it took her to unpack her suitcase. She smiled to herself when she saw their shoes side by side at the door when she went to put her trainers beside them.
It wasn’t long before hours passed and Y/N was wrapped up in a plush, white bathrobe with Harry’s shirt and her pyjama shirt on underneath. A cart with empty plates of what once was full of an array of desserts and sides was cast off to one side as Y/N lay on top of Harry with a full belly. The TV played lowly in the back, Harry's hands playing with the ends of her long, loose hair. The sky had turned dark with the lights of Paris lighting the city.
“Y’ sleepy baby?” Harry murmured, cupping her cheek and lifting her head like she was a little kitten so he could see her face.
Y/N hummed, nuzzling her cheek against his hand and curling into his side. Her hand slid up his torso to fiddle with the cross necklace around her neck. “Go to sleep,” He kisses the top of her head, “Got a long day tomorrow.”
Tomorrow they’d be off to the tennis club to train for the final at the end of the week. Harry had picked a hotel that was a ten-minute drive away just in case they ended up spending long hours into the night working on Y/N’s technique like they did when they were at Crestwood.
Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as Harry rubbed soothing circles on her hip to try and lull her to sleep. The outside world seemed irrelevant in that moment, he felt as though he could lay there forever in this comforting bubble they had created together.
“Goodnight Harry,” Y/N mumbled, clutching his t-shirt.
“Goodnight baby,” He whispered, feeling the happiest he had ever been.
. . .
“Somebody pinch me, I feel like I’m dreaming,” Y/N gaped as they walked through the tennis club. She felt Harry pinch the skin above her elbow, “Not literally,” She huffed.
After a blissful night's sleep, Y/N awoke to her face buried in the crook of Harry’s neck as both of his arms held her tightly to him throughout the night. Sleep had always been Y/N’s worst enemy but she genuinely considered calling off today and just laying there with him.
They booked a cab before getting ready which would take them to the tennis club. They had planned a morning session of training so they could spend the remainder of the afternoon exploring Paris properly this time instead of looking out the window of the back of a taxi or from their hotel room where they had spent yesterday afternoon lounging around.
Harry smirked, “You haven’t even seen the best part yet,” He leads her to a big glass window in the lobby.
Y/N immediately gasps, pressing her nose against the glass wanting it to disappear so she could walk straight through it and across to the Roland Garros which just so happened to be right next door.
“I’m going to be there one day Harry,” Y/N says with the upmost determination in her voice.
Harry nods in agreement, “You will,” He says and that makes her believe it even more.
They walk hand in hand to the courts, Y/N in a white tennis dress and matching visor and Harry wearing a white polo shirt and white shorts. They were both wearing black sunglasses to cover their eyes, Harry snaked his arm around her shoulders, Y/N’s fingers automatically threading through his, as they walked outside.
They seemed to pause at the same time when they saw one of the courts already occupied. The sound of the ball speeding through the air and hitting the racket of the girl running to hit it in time broke through the air.
Y/N watched as the girl moved with such agility and force, meeting every hit made by her coach with her own. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, no one she had ever played against.
With one final hit across, the ball landed somewhere past her opponent and the game ended. The girl grabbed a towel and wiped it across her forehead, smiling as she took a waterbottle from the cooler. Her head raised, Y/N’s eyes casting away in hopes she wouldn’t come over but it was too late and she was already walking towards them.
Harry gave Y/N’s hand a gentle squeeze as if to say "be nice," already familiar with her temper. However, she had put up a guard, uncertain whether to trust this girl or not.
“Hi,” She said, “I’m Courtney,” She held a hand out to which Y/N slowly responded, “You must be Y/N, I’ve been watching your games. You’re good.”
Y/N felt her jaw tick at the tone she used in trying to compliment her like she didn’t think she was a good player at all but she was trying to be nice about it.
“Thank you,” Y/N decided to not act out and instead remained civil.
Courtney flashed a pearly white grin, “Yes well my coach thought this whole Academy competition would be good training for the Junior Slam next year. It’s not often something I would participate in but no one can deny the glory of winning something no matter how easy it is.”
Y/N forced a smile, “You’re right, it seems every game just gets easier and easier. I’m sure this next one will be a walk in the park.”
Courtney smirked, her eyes drifting up to see Harry, “Harry,” She acknowledged, “I haven’t seen you since your injury? How is it?”
“Good,” Harry nodded, “Besides the fact I can’t play anymore, I’d say it’s going pretty well.”
Courtney’s smirk deepens, “Is that why you’re doing this? Since you can’t play you’ve got a little pitbull to carry the torch for you.”
Y/N’s fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms, “You know, I’ve been watching you too Courtney.”
Courtney’s expression turned smug as she crossed her arms, “Oh really?”
Y/N nodded, her eyes narrowing as she looked at her nose like she was inspecting it, “Your nose is looking a little crooked after last season. My mother knows a doctor who can fix that if you want their number?”
Courtney scowled and spun on her heel to storm away from them after being reminded of her embarrassing moment from last season where she hit herself in the face with her tennis racket and broke her nose.
Harry chuckled from beside her, “I’m sorry, I know I’m not meant to but she pissed me off when she started talking about your injury like that.”
“It’s okay, if I didn’t think you had it covered I would have said something myself.” Harry began to walk to their side of the courts, “Now c’mon my little pitbull, let’s get to work.”
Y/N scowled at his choice of words but followed him anyway.
. . .
Throughout the entire week whenever they weren’t training - which was less often than they had hoped for but also the reason they were here in the first place - Y/N and Harry spent their evenings exploring the city.
Y/N was thankful Harry had been to Paris plenty of times before, enough to show her around and take her to some of his favourite spots.
Together they went to Harry’s favourite cafe each morning to pick up croissants and pastries to eat outside on the little tables and chairs. They visited the Eiffel Tower where they attempted to take photographs of each other holding it in the palms of their hands. They walked over to the Louvre where Harry paid for them to have a private tour in the evening and they would spend most of their evenings walking hand in hand as they strolled along the Seine.
This must be what being a kid feels like. Y/N thought to herself as Harry lay in between her legs as they sat on the grass right in front of the Eiffel Tower. He was reading a book he had bought from a small, indie bookstore they had come across as they walked through the streets.
Everything in her life had always been meticulously planned or she had to work hard for it, even at the age of eighteen. Both Y/N and Harry had been made to grow up quickly because their parents had raised them that way but together it felt like they had regressed back into their simplest forms. Life felt easy and colourful and magical. Each day, Y/N felt like her heart was shedding hardened skin and was slowly turning into this beautiful ball of light that weighed hardly anything inside of her chest.
She paused her train of thought when she felt Harry’s lips press a kiss to her arm, “Let’s go out to dinner tonight,” He murmured.
Tomorrow was the final and Y/N had been a nervous wreck all day hence why they had attempted to do things that might help her relax. Harry had woken her up with breakfast already carried in by one of the housekeepers and had offered to take her to the spa in the hotel but Y/N was desperate to escape the indoors and go outside so they ended up walking through the streets and stumbling into different shops on multiple street corners. Harry had even bought a baguette to put in his tote bag that they had been nibbling on all day.
“I don’t know if I can handle eating right now,” Y/N admitted, the nerves getting the best of her.
Harry shifted and turned around so he was lying on his stomach, his chin resting on her belly, “You’ll regret it if you don’t eat baby,” He kissed her exposed stomach from where her shirt had risen, “Even if it’s just a little something, y’ can’t go to bed hungry.”
Y/N knew he was right which is how they ended up in one of the fanciest restaurants Harry could have possibly picked from the many Paris had to offer with two plates of pasta and a shared basket of garlic bread between them.
At one point, midway through making her laugh, Harry pulled out his phone to quickly take her picture. Y/N's cheeks tinged pink as she asked, "What did you do that for?"
Harry bit back a grin, “Because you’re my girlfriend and sometimes I take photos of you to make sure this is real,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “What? Do you want to see the whole album I’ve made for you too?”
“A whole album? Ew weirdo,” She teased.
“Not a weirdo, ‘m just obsessed with you,” He says, “Wait until you’ve seen all the playlists I’ve made over the years I’ve been pining for you behind closed doors.”
Y/N’s lips part, “You’re lying,”
“I’m not, I swear,” Harry chuckles, “Remember that box of chocolates you found in your cubby in fifth year on Valentine’s Day?”
“That was not you,” Y/N refused to believe it, “Sarah and I sat in the park after school eating them on the swings after she broke up with Byron.”
“It was,” Harry nodded, his cheeks turning rosy but he carried on, “The day you asked me to teach you to play tennis I felt like I was floating on a cloud at the big old age of eight.”
“But you said no,”
“Yeah because I figured you’d never leave me alone until I did and low and behold here we are today.” He says like he’s been planning this exact moment in time all his teenage life.
“Ah so you’ve been scheming ever since,” Y/N joked.
Harry shrugged, “I may have put things into motion but I think you were always meant to be a part of my life, Y/N.”
Y/N’s heart warmed like he was holding a candle beneath it, “I don’t think I remember anything good that you weren’t a part of.”
He reached for her hand across the table and kissed the inside of her wrist, “You are my good.”
. . .
Harry leaned against the doorframe of the hotel bathroom as he brushed his teeth whilst Y/N lay on the bed in just a towel and underwear having just finished showering. Both their gazes were fixed on the television with re-runs of previous tennis matches playing with the volume down.
Harry’s eyes softened when they looked at Y/N who watched the TV with so much awe on her face. He felt a sense of pride wash over him for both his girlfriend and for himself. After his injury, he thought himself damned and that nothing would give him the rush of playing tennis against big names like he did before but now he had Y/N and life before today seemed non-existent - maybe he hadn’t really been living at all.
He spat out his toothpaste and turned the bathroom light off. He stopped in the doorway in just his boxers when Y/N switched the TV off and there was nothing but the soft, warm glow of the lamp lighting the room.
Her eyes looked up at him, vulnerability shining from them, “If I lose tomorrow will you still look at me the same?” She asked.
Harry frowned, “What do you mean?”
She sighed heavily, sitting up and pulling the towel closer to her to hide her naked chest, “Will you still like me?”
Harry’s eyes softened. It wasn’t often she shared such a vulnerable side with people so whenever he got a glimpse of it, he felt himself spiralling out of control like he was completely at her mercy, “No,” He starts and walks towards her squatting down before the bed and reaching a hand out to hold her cheek, his thumb smoothing over her cheekbones, “But I’ll love you a little harder than I do right now,”
A breath escaped from Y/N’s lips as they parted, her heart pounding, “What?” She breathed.
Harry’s lips curved, “I love you.”
She still couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing, “You do?”
Harry said nothing other than a small nod as he waited for her to respond, “I love you too,” She whispered, her eyes glistening, “More than anything in this world.”
Harry didn’t need to hear anything else as he surged forward to kiss her, his bottom lip sliding between hers. Y/N held his face in her hands as she kissed him as hard as she could whilst he crawled onto the bed.
She fell back, feeling the soft sheets beneath her as Harry held himself up above her. The towel around her had loosened her pulse racing as she realised what was happening. “We don’t have to-” Harry started but Y/N kissed him quickly to shut him up.
“I want to,” She murmured against his lips.
Harry nodded, his curls falling around his face as his cheeks tinged pink, “I-I can’t promise I’ll be good,” Y/N immediately shook her head, pushing his curls back and looking him straight in the eye.
“I love you, Harry,” She saw the way his eyes twinkled as she spoke those words, “Whatever we do will be perfect because it’s with you and nobody else. Just us.”
Harry smiles, “The way it’s always been. You and me,”
Y/N mirrors his smile before kissing him again, running her hands up and down his back with nothing but the sound of their lips connecting and their heavy exhales filling the silence of the room.
As Harry kissed down her neck, Y/N felt her nerves escalating as an idea formed in her mind. The towel around her was the only barrier preventing their skin from touching, and she yearned to feel the warmth of his bare chest against hers.
Before getting lost in a spiral of self-doubt, Y/N loosened her grip on the towel. Harry paused his assault on her neck and they both froze, “Holy shit,” Harry whispered maybe to himelf but she wasn’t quite sure, “Okay give me a second,” His eyes squeezed shut and Y/N waited.
Suddenly, Harry’s head glimpsed down at her naked form lying beneath him. The only piece of fabric left on her was a pair of red, lace panties, “Fuck,” Harry cursed, “This isn’t real, pinch me so I can wake up,”
“Harry,” Y/N laughed.
“I’m sorry baby but you’re just gonna have to give me a moment because- Holy shit.” He exclaimed, “This is way better than I imagined,” He muttered, loud enough for her to hear.
Harry was in awe of the girl that lay beneath him, every curve of her body and inch of her soft skin looked as thought it was sculpted by tender hands. His hands gripped the bottoms of her thighs and he felt the hard muscle from months and months of playing tennis and yet, despite all that, her skin was still so damn soft.
Harry couldn’t think up enough words to praise the temple that was her body so he sealed his lips with hers, his tongue darting out filled with lust and need. His fingers slid up her thigh to grip her ass and when his hips rolled against hers she felt him - all of him.
Y/N let out a moan as he kissed down her body, he pulled her into him until her breasts were pressed against his chest. Her arms looped around his neck, her fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.
Y/N hummed, her eyes fluttering shut, as Harry kissed and touched every inch of skin. She felt like all the heavy parts of her were being taken out of her body and only her heart remained. He cupped her breasts in his hand and squeezed, her nipples hardening despite the warmth of his touch. She felt like dough, fluffy and light, and no matter what he did to her they would somehow mould together perfectly.
She felt Harry’s thumb hook the waistband of her panties when he kissed the inside of her thigh, “Harry,” Y/N gasped. It seemed to be the only word she had left inside of her empty head.
“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, his green eyes peering up at her.
“No,” She said, too quickly, “You can do anything y’ want to me.” She trusted him that much.
Harry shuddered at her words, his heart expanding three sizes inside of his chest. He didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about somebody, to feel like all his calloused skin was peeling off of his body and now he was someone completely new.
With shaky hands, he removed Y/N’s underwear, seeing the way her chest rose and fell. His hands gently pushed her plush thighs apart, “Fuck baby,” He groaned.
“Please Harry,” Y/N mewled, her hips wriggling in hopes the action would propel him to do something.
“Calm down lovie, jus’ admiring how pretty y’ are,” He smirks, his thumb trailing up her slit until it reached her clit. He stopped, hearing her weighted breaths before he began to rub it in slow, teasing circles. He caught the stutter in her breath, watching when her hands fisted the blanket.
Without warning, Y/N feels his warm, wet tongue run between her folds. The sensation feels foreign but she’s overcome by intense pleasure as he begins lapping her through her folds. She feels her lungs deflate as the air escapes her, unable to breathe when he teases her clenching open. Her toes curl as his other hand travels to her hip to hold her down and nuzzle his face harder against her.
Hearing her whines and feeling her writing beneath him, Harry feels his cock throbbing in his boxers, he could feel the damp fabric against his skin as he pressed himself into the mattress with his head still in between her thighs.
“So good,” Y/N babbles, her body shivering when she felt the coil begin to tighten in the pit of her belly, “So, so good Harry.”
Before she could find her release, Harry pulled away his chin glistening with her juices. Y/N’s hands grapple for him but she can barely reach him and feels too floaty to try any harder. Harry’s hair is a mess as he crawls up her bare body and kisses her. She tastes herself on his tongue when they brush against each other, “I need to be inside of you,” He slurs against her lips, “I need you so bad Y/N, I think I’ll go crazy if I don’t.”
Harry’s head hangs, his curls falling in front of his face. Y/N automatically pushes them back, her hips rolling against his. She can feel the damp spot against his boxers despite her own wetness covering her thighs, “I’m on birth control,” She tells him.
Harry groans, his forehead pressing against her collarbones, “Of course you are,” He says, “Always so fucking prepared, aren’t you?” He drawls, “My best girl,”
Y/N’s heart flips and spins at his words, but the reality of the situation sets in when she feels him removing his boxers. She gasps as she feels his hardened length against the inside of her thigh. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but Harry was big; she had no clue whether it was normal for someone to be as thick as he was, and she wondered how she was meant to fit it all inside of her.
“Is this okay?” He murmurs and Y/N nods, “I feel like we should high-five or something,”
Y/N can’t help but laugh, “What?”
“Well we’re both virgins about to lose our virginity, shouldn’t we like boost morale or something?” He jokes and Y/N laughs so hard her cheeks ache.
After they both settle, Harry kisses her quickly as he lines his cock up to her pussy, “Harry?” He hums a reponse, “It’ll fit right?”
Harry groaned, his mind still picturing her small, wet glistening pussy that he had just had his first taste of, “Yes baby, it’s your first time so it’ll hurt a little but if you want to stop we’ll stop and if you say go we’ll go and if you want me to leave you alone for ten minutes, I’ll leave for five. Whatever you want.”
“Okay,” She nods, fully determined, “I love you,”
Harry’s eyes soften, “I love you too, lovie.”
Y/N smiles, “I like that name,”
“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curve.
“Yeah,” Y/N loops her arms around his neck and tries her best to relax when she feels the tip of his cock brush through her folds.
Harry kisses her forehead, “Take a deep breath,” He says and as she does, she feels him push his hips down and his tip gently ease into her. She gasps, feeling her pussy throb as he moves achingly slow, inch by inch inside of her. A thin layer of sweat covers Harry’s forehead, his jaw clenching as he feels her walls squeezing him tightly.
She feels a sting of pain as his thick length pushes through her, her pussy stretching to accommodate his size.
“Baby,” He murmurs, the tip of his nose brushing over her cheek, “If you keep clenching around me I’m gonna cum before I’m all the way inside of you.”
Y/N’s eyes widened, “You’re not all the way in yet?”
Harry cringed, “M sorry, do you want to stop?”
Y/N immediately shook her head, pulling him closer to her, “Keep going,” She whispered despite the fact she was wondering if she even had enough room to fit him inside of her when she already felt so full.
Harry eased into her a little quicker this time, kissing her soothingly and whispering sweet, encouraging nothings into her ear. He even began to rub his thumb against her clit in hopes it would ease some of her discomfort.
Eventually, he found himself all the way, deep inside of her, her walls squeezing him tightly with his hips pressed against her own. “Are you okay?” He murmured.
“Mhm,” Y/N could barely keep her eyes open from how blissful she felt. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, her entire body was just full up of him in ever sense of the word, “Can we stay like this for a moment,”
He kissed her shoulder and along her collarbones, “Whatever you want lovie, doing so well,”
Although he was trying to remain calm for her, Harry couldn’t believe he was buried deep inside of the girl he had loved for so long. He couldn’t feel any part of his body apart from where they were both connected, slotted together so perfectly like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
Her hair splayed out around her on the pillow, her lips were plushy and swollen, and her cheeks were red, the colour of two, crisp apples picked right off a tree. She was a dream, the love of his life.
“Okay,” She murmured, “Y’ can move now.”
“Are you sure?” He would hate himself if he caused her any more pain but she nodded.
A hiss escaped her lips as Harry began to slowly move out of her. He paused, “I just need to get used to it is all,” She assured.
Harry nods, waiting for her to tell him to move again and when she does, he moves gently out of her before carefully thrusting back into her again. Now that she was getting used to the feeling of him inside of her, Y/N could feel the ridges and veins of his cock brush her walls, the tip of his cock pressing into her g-spot as he moved inside of her.
“God Harry,” Y/N whines.
“You’re m’ dream girl,” Harry slurs, biting his lip when he takes in how tight she is as she clenches around him. He grabs one of the hands still placed around his neck and kisses her wrist. He intertwines their fingers and settles their hands beside her head needing to feel her touch, “M’ best girl, I love y’ so much.” He whispers.
“Love you,” She sighs, her eyes fluttering shut as he thrusts over and over again, each one more perfect than the last.
“Y’ pussy is so perfect baby, made for each other, aren’t we? Hmm? Y’ my perfect, dream girl.” He groans, his head falling forward.
Harry pulled his hand away from hers to smear his thumb over her clit. Y/N whimpers and writhes beneath him at the added pleasure, “Faster,” She whispers, “Please.”
Harry presses messy kisses along her jawline, “Don’t have to beg baby,” He hastens his rhythmic thrusts, their moans filling the air.
“Can feel y’ clenching baby?” Harry seemed to already have an idea of when Y/N was about to cum from the way her body shivered beneath him, “Y’ gonna cum?”
“Yes Harry,” She gasps, “Please Harry, it feels so good,” Her eyes pinched with tears at the overwhelming pleasure that filled every part of her.
“Cum round my cock baby, make a mess hmm, need y’ to cum so I can cum too yeah?” He was almost pleading, words tumbling from his mouth as his thrusts began to speed up the closer he got to his release.
Y/N could feel that same coil begin to tighten in her belly, she could see her vision start to blur and all her muscles tighten until it snapped and her back arched into him. He swooped one arm beneath her, pulling her into him and burying his face into her neck as he groaned into her, “Fuck,” He heaved, releasing into her.
Y/N could barely get any words out as he collapsed on top of her. Her eyes were fixated on the ceiling, her lips parting with small puffs of air escaping her. She felt like she was floating, levitating off the bed and leaving her body behind, “Y’ okay baby,” Harry murmured, kissing her cheek, “Come down for me yeah?” He presses a hand to her forehead.
“Harry,” She whimpers, the first word to leave her lips after coming down from her high. She loops her arms around him and he scoops her up into his.
“You did such a good job, m’love,” He coos, moving her matted hair out of her forehead and admiring how beautiful she looked under the soft light of the lampshade.
“Was so perfect,” She whispers, meeting his soft, green eyes and lifting a hand to brush his hair out of his face.
“Yeah?” He smiled, holding her to him like she was something so fragile he was afraid he might break her.
“Mhm,” She hums, curling into him. “I love you,” She kissed his chest and felt his heart thudding against her hand.
“I’ve loved you for a long time,” Harry replied.
They lay tangled together amongst the sheets, waiting to float back down into their bodies but basking in every second they had in that moment where their hearts were the same.
. . .
Y/N lay in bed that same night with Harry’s t-shirt now covering her bare form. Harry laughed as he re-entered the bedroom having just taken his second shower of the evening.
She was watching a tennis match on the TV again.
“You’re watching tennis?” He smiled, falling on the bed beside her, clad only in his boxers. “Is this your version of cigarettes after sex?”
Y/N grins, “What can I say? It’s my addiction.”
He reaches for her hand and mindlessly plays with her fingers but his ears prick when he hears his name from one of the commentators, “This is my game from last year,” Harry speaks, seeing his face appear on the screen.
They watched as Harry walked onto the court exuding confidence as he shook hands with his opponent before the match started. He then pointed his racket at the middle of the stands where the audience was watching.
“Why do you do that?” Y/N wonders, “Before every game, you’d always point your racket at the middle of the audience.”
“Every game?” Harry poked her side.
Y/N rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I’ve watched every single one of your games so what?”
Harry smiled, kissing her bare shoulder and answering, “Because you used to sit there.”
Y/N stilled turning her head to look at him, “What?”
“Whenever I would play at any of my tennis matches, I always looked out for you in the crowd and I’d always find you sitting right in the middle of the bleachers to watch. Eventually, it just became a thing, before I even set foot onto the court, I’d find you sitting in the exact same spot with the exact same expression on your face. I thought you were a good luck charm because whenever you weren’t sat there I’d lose. When I went to matches that you weren’t going to be watching, I just started pointing down the centre courts like my own superstition or something.”
“Is that really the reason?” Y/N’s eyes glistened.
Harry nodded, his eyes casting downward, “S embarrassing I know,”
Y/N shook her head, cupping his face in her hands, “You’re so perfect,” She mumbled, the both of them falling back onto the mattress, getting lost in each other all over again.
. . .
Y/N couldn’t focus on anything other than the crowd gathering in the stands as she sat in her plastic chair on the left-hand side of the umpire’s seat. Harry stood next to her, barely saying a word but offering her his presence to ease her nerves.
Today was the final, the day Y/N had been working towards all these months and it didn’t feel real. The air was hot and humid, Y/N could already feel her skin sticking to the chair as the sun beat down on her.
After waking up this morning, Y/N felt a blissful ache between her legs from her night with Harry. In some ways, she was thankful for it because for a moment it helped her forget what events lay ahead. Their night together had been magical, there was no other way she could describe it. She had no idea what could happen to a person after being so vulnerable with another but she felt lighter and even more in love with Harry than she had ever been before.
Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, “We’ll be starting soon,” He murmured, squatting in front of her to meet her eyes.
They had gone to the gym first thing in the morning to warm up for the day's big event. Harry had tried to distract her mind from the doubts that consumed her by playing bad music or challenging her strength on the bel bars but Y/N’s mind constantly drifted.
“Right,” Y/N felt the pit in her stomach cave inwards, consuming all her insides and mushing them altogether. She felt a wave of nausea as Courtney walked onto the court and everyone applauded her.
“Y/N,” Harry grasped her hand in her lap and squeezed, “You are going to win this. I wholeheartedly believe in you.”
Her shoulders drop, “If I don’t-”
“There’s no ‘if’,” Harry interrupted her before she could finish her negative train of thought, “You can and you will. Courtney may be a good tennis player but her ego outweighs all of that.”
Y/N nods, “Okay,” She says.
Harry stands, his hand cupping her left cheek to lift her head. He grins, “I love you.”
Y/N knows her heart is still intact at least from the way it flips and spins inside her chest at his words, “I love you too.”
A twinkle shines in his eyes until they drift over to the stands. His lips curve, “I think there are some other people here who love you too,” He motions his head towards the crowd and Y/N casts her gaze over in that direction.
She feels her eyes prick with tears when she sees Sarah, Mitch and Adam in the front row of the stands all wearing t-shirts with her name and face plastered onto them. Sarah immediately spots her and waves, pointing to her shirt with excitement and pride for her best friend.
“Did you bring them here?” Y/N asked, looking up at Harry.
He shrugged, “Sarah was insisting she came,”
Y/N squeezes his hand, “Thank you,” She whispers, “For all of this. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” Harry holds her feeling her heart hammering against her chest as too many emotions consume them both.
Unfortunately for her, Harry couldn’t stay at her side for the entire game but he was in the front row of the stands, directly in the middle exactly where she would sit whenever she would watch any of his games back home.
When the umpire announced the game would begin, Y/N walked over to Courtney and shook her hand, “Good luck,” She said.
Courtney scoffed, “Yeah, thanks.”
Y/N rolled her eyes.
As the match began, Y/N and Courtney faced off on the court. The crowd hushed, watching intently. Y/N felt jittery as she waited for Courtney's first serve.
Courtney tossed the ball and swung her racket, sending the ball flying towards Y/N who responded quickly, hitting the ball back with a loud smack.
The game was on. Y/N and Courtney traded shots back and forth, each trying to outplay the other. Y/N felt confident with each move she made, pushing away her earlier doubts until she noticed Courtney begin to counteract her moves when she took in how Y/N responded to each shot.
With one hard-hitting strike, Courtney sent the ball straight past Y/N’s shoulder.
Courtney had the first point.
Y/N glanced over at Harry, seeing him watching with intense focus but his eyes were glued onto her as if she were the only person on the court.
Ignoring Courtney’s smug expression, Y/N served the ball sending it straight into the air and hitting it back with all the force and aggression she could muster. The rally started up again, each stroke a testament to Y/N’s hard work over the past few months. Except this time, the winning prize was closer than it had ever been before.
Y/N aimed the ball and landed it in the corner, Country struggling to reach it in time before it bounced off.
“Fifteen all.” The umpire speaks.
Her ears caught the cheers of her best friend in the crowd, Harry stood and clapped for her but she could still see how tense he was since the game had only just begun.
This back-and-forth continued for the next few rounds. Every time Y/N would move, Courtney would match it. The scores were inching closer and closer to the end. Y/N watched when Courtney served the ball once more and aimed to respond, wrapping both her hands tightly around her racket and running towards the ball as it flung through the air but then she felt it.
An intense pain travelled through her entire body coming from her shoulder and travelling down her arm.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, the ball landing right by her as she dropped to her knees and her racket fell from her hands. Y/N let out a pained scream as she clutched her shoulder.
Medics ran onto the court, people gasping in their seats as they watched the events unfold. “Harry,” Y/N whimpered, “Harry,” She was saying his name like he was looking out for him.
“Stop moving,” One of the medics urged when Y/N tried to stand up.
“Harry,” Y/N sobbed, tears falling from her eyes.
She wasn’t sure what hurt more - her shoulder or her heart breaking from the thought of all this being over.
“Y/N,” Harry was out of breath as he approached her, pushing the security out of the way when they tried to stop him. He collapsed to his knees beside her, searching for the damage.
“Harry,” Y/N cried, the only word she could possibly seem to say in a moment like this.
Harry didn’t know what to do. He felt helpless as he waited for the medics to finish checking out her arm. He held her head to his chest, covering her ears as though it would be enough to shelter her from all that was going on around them. “It’s okay baby,” He whispered, trying to remain calm despite the panic he was feeling.
He felt as though this was all some kind of nightmare he couldn’t seem to wake up from. Flashbacks from his own injury came to the forefront of his mind as he sat beside her, his shirt dampening as her tears seeped through. “You’re going to be fine,” He told her, repeatedly like he was trying to make himself believe it too.
“It’s ruined, I failed.” Y/N sobbed.
“Hey,” He held her face, trying to smooth some of the tears away, “You’re not a failure and you didn’t ruin anything. You played so well, the best I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s over,” She couldn’t take in anything he was saying and he knew that.
He knew what she was feeling - how the pain of losing everything outweighed the physical pain of an injury. “I love you Y/N, you’re going to be okay.” Was all he could say.
“Y/N, it's a mild dislocation,” one of the medics explained.
“What?” Y/N tried not to scream as they moved her arm.
“We need to take you to the hospital to get it reset,” they advised, but Y/N shook her head immediately.
“No,” she whispered urgently, “Do it now.”
“Y/N—” Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Ignoring him, Y/N locked eyes with him and insisted, “Put it back in now, and I can finish the game.”
“Y/N, this is crazy,” Harry protested, shaking his head, “I won’t let you go out there in this much pain.”
“You’ve done it before,” she reminded him, “I watched you dislocate your shoulder and keep playing.”
“This is different,” Harry argued, remembering his own injury.
“If I don’t finish this, I would hate myself,” Y/N insisted earnestly, “Please.”
“Y/N, you’ll be at a disadvantage. You’d have to play the entire game with one hand.”
“I know, and I know how to do it,” Y/N reassured him, her eyes softening, “Because you taught me.”
Harry struggled with a gut feeling that this was a terrible idea. “Okay,” he relented, brushing her hair back gently, “Okay.”
“Are you sure?” the medic asked, clearly apprehensive.
“Just do it,” Y/N spoke through gritted teeth.
Harry held the back of her head as she buried her face in his neck, clinging onto his hands tightly. “I’m gonna be so mad at you for this later,” he whispered into her ear.
“That’s okay,” Y/N attempted a smile, but it quickly faded as the medics reset her shoulder. She wailed and squeezed Harry’s hand so tightly he thought it might fall off.
As the medics stepped back, Y/N raised her arm, feeling the pain subside but still present. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.
“No,” Y/N said, “But I have to do this.”
The crowd gasped when Y/N stood, picking up her racket with one hand and flipping it in her hand. Harry stood, glancing over at Courtney who was equally as shocked as everybody else.
He stood in front of Y/N, “I’m so pissed at you right now,” He huffs, “But you better win this.”
Y/N shot him a sad smile, “I’ll try my best.”
He hastily kissed her lips before she could walk away to carry on playing, “That’s all I ask,” He murmured against her. He walks back to his place in the stands, Y/N watching as he goes.
She pushed away the pain that was shooting down her arm and stood on her end of the court to finish the game. Courtney seemed unsure, scanning the way she stood and seeing her limp arm beside her.
Y/N glanced at the academy trophy, feeling like it was now out of reach.
The umpire announced the final round and the tension fell thick in the air. Y/N inhaled a shaky breath and got into position, watching as Courtney threw the ball into the air and hit it with her racket.
Even though one of her arms wasn’t exactly working, her legs worked just fine as she ran for the ball, hitting it with her racket in her one hand. She gritted her teeth when the pain increased with her movements and met Coutrney’s rallies as best as she could. The match raged on, each swing of the racket echoing with the intensity of her cries as Y/N hit the ball.
With each shot, Y/N poured her heart and soul into the game, her movements fueled by sheer determination. The crowd held its breath, watching in awe as she defied the odds with every stroke.
As the pain intensified, Y/N's desperation for the game to end grew. She couldn't understand why Courtney hadn't already sealed the win with one final move. However, Y/N was slowly wondering whether Courtney was using her pain as a way of satisfying her own ego. Y/N noticed whenever she winced or faltered in her movements, Courtney's smirk widened as if she was intentionally prolonging the game to relish in Y/N's discomfort.
A surge of anger ignited within Y/N at the realisation. Harry had been right about Courtney's ego, and now Y/N was determined to turn it against her.
With gritted teeth and a steely determination in her eyes, Y/N squared her shoulders and focused solely on the game. She blocked out the pain, channeling every ounce of her strength and skill into each swing of her racket.
Courtney's smirk faltered as Y/N's resolve became palpable. The crowd sensed a shift in momentum, their cheers growing louder. With each stroke, Y/N felt herself gaining ground, her movements becoming more fluid and precise.
And then, with one final, decisive shot, she sent the ball sailing past Courtney, landing squarely within the boundaries of the court.
Y/N fell to her knees, tears falling from her eyes as she realised she had won the entire game.
Harry, Sarah, Mitch and Adam all leapt from the stands and ran towards her, embracing her carefully so to avoid her aching shoulder.
Harry picked her up, holding her tightly and kissing her face, “You did it,” He grinned, “You won.”
“I did it,” Y/N sobbed in disbelief and then a smile took over her entire face as realisation hit her.
She had won.
. . .
Y/N stood by her locker with Sarah, her arm wrapped in a sling whilst wearing her school uniform. Banners littered the walls of the hallway with ‘congratulations’ written in golden handwriting across them.
“I can’t believe you won’t be coming with me to UCL next year,” Sarah huffed, “How am I meant to do anything without you?”
Y/N smiled at her best friend, “The tennis academy is a twenty minute walk away from UCL so it’s not like we’ll be away from each other.”
“I know but who am I going to roomie with next year?” Sarah sighed, “It won’t be the same. We’ve been roommates since we were five, I can’t trust anybody like I do with you. I mean, you even accept my white noise machine.”
Y/N hadn’t accepted it, she hated that thing, but Sarah was her best friend so she put up with it, “Well how about we get an apartment together?”
Sarah almost gasps, “Seriously?”
Y/N nods, “I was thinking maybe me, you, Mitch and Harry could all move in together since we’re going to be living in the same city.”
Sarah’s entire face lights up at the idea, “Have you told Harry about it?”
“We spoke about it last night.” Last night when she stayed the night at his apartment and spent most of the night tangled up in one another.
Sarah squealed, “I have to tell Mitch, he is going to love that idea. Don’t tell Harry this but the other day he started crying at the thought of having to leave him when the year ends.”
They walked out of the school building together, Sarah rambling about how she wanted to decorate their non-existing apartment as Y/N nodded intently to each of her ideas.
Since the Academy Slam, not much had changed other than the fact that Y/N was now going to be spending the next two years at the Tennis Academy in London. The school newspaper had done another interview with her but this time she didn’t mind so much that Harry shared the front cover with her, pride on his face as he looked down at her.
Even though she was achieving her dreams, nothing compared to the relationship she had with Harry. Everyday Y/N felt like she was floating whenever she woke up in Harry’s arms in his apartment or in her tiny dorm bed whenever Sarah wasn’t around.
A smile covered her entire face when she saw Harry looking like every girl’s wet dream, leaning up against the bonnet of his audi as he waited for her. When he did, his own smile mirrored hers, “Hi baby,” He spoke, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Hi Harry,” Y/N stood toe to toe in front of him, clutching her books in one arm.
He wrapped one arm around her waist beneath her blazer and pulled her into his chest, kissing her lips softly, his breath tasting like mint chewing gum, “How’s m’ girl?”
Y/N bit down on her lip to stop herself from smiling so much, “Good, I had a test today.”
“Did you smash it?” He smirked.
“Yes but I probably could have done better if somebody hadn’t kept me up all last night.” She rolled her eyes.
His lips went to her neck, “Don’t lie, you loved what I did,” He mumbled against her skin as he suckled on her neck, surely leaving a mark.
“These late nights are getting out of hand,” Y/N made a feeble attempt to push him away.
“Mmm,” He hummed, pulling away, “Need I remind you that you were the one to initiate it,”
“I did not,” Y/N gaped.
“Uh huh,” Harry smirked, “Whatever you want to believe.”
“No you were the one who-”
Harry’s smirk deepened, “Who what?” He watched as Y/N’s cheeks turned pink and her mouth open and closed as she struggled to say something.
“Shut up,” She huffed, walking to the passenger seat of his car, “Take me home please,”
“Whatever you want,” He beamed, loving the way she called his apartment her home.
He drove away from the tennis courts, a spark of joy igniting within her every time they came into view. Harry held her hand over the console as they drove down the streets to his apartment, feeling more at peace than she had ever been before. Not only was she going to be going to her dream school but she’d also be with Harry and her best friend too.
For a long time, Y/N believed that tennis was the only love of her life but now she had Harry and if she had to choose between the two, she would pick him every single time.
taglist: @storyschanging @lilbredsticc @esposa-do-harry @st-ev-ie @itschelseacisneros @hermionelove @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hesvoid34 @writersarenotartists @ayeree1 @sassamanda77 @estaticheart
#harry styles fic rec#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagines#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#fic rec#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry edward styles#one direction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#tennisplayer!y/n#tennis rivals#enemies to lovers#harry styles au#tennisplayer!h#rivals to lovers
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Hey I love your writing I know your busy at the moment but do you think you could do something like Missing piece but with Sinclair Daughter!reader where reader got taken by csp or something and they come back with their adopted family.
Hello love! Thank you so much for this request <3 I had so much fun writing for this that I did a little series in which you are Bo's daughter and you got taken away by your mother and then by social care.
I really hope that you'll enjoy it! <3
THE SUN OF AMBROSE (Part I)
Warnings: ANGST and more ANGST, no proof reading, mute!reader, mentions of suicide, death and violence, quick mentions of domestic violence, difficult childhood, sadness, despair and anger
“Are you alright, hon? What are you thinking about?” your adoptive mother asked you.
You were sitting on the porch, looking into the distance. She sat next to you as you shrugged.
“Are you not cold?” she asked you again and you shook your head. She kissed the top of your head before getting up.
“Don’t stay here for too long, ok? You need to get some rest too” she hummed and you nodded. You waited for her to come back inside before laying down on the ground, looking at the sky.
You were silent now, almost completely mute.
You hadn’t always been like that though. When you were a young child, you were chatting around all the time. You were babbling to Lester about the nicest insects you saw or about what art project you started with Vincent. You were also happily asking questions to your dad about absolutely anything because you were certain that Bo had to know everything. You were telling all your little secrets to Vincent because you trusted him with them and your feelings. You were laughing around with your mother as she was cracking jokes for you. You were happy, you were solar. You were “the sun of Ambrose” as your uncles and father would call you.
The Sinclairs couldn’t imagine a day without you; your presence was making everything so much better. You were too young to realise what your family was doing with the tourists, but you knew it was bad because your parents didn't want you out of the house when people were coming in. And Vincent needed to authorise you into the basement before you could come down. Your father always told you he would explain everything to you when you were a big girl, and you accepted this answer because Bo never lied to you before. You were aware that everytime people were coming in, there were new sculptures in the House of Wax though.
But you were happy and loved; and when you are a child, it really all that matters. You couldn’t wait to be a grown up so you could help your dad with his business, but other than that, everything was perfect for you.
Until it wasn’t anymore.
Things had changed so much. You didn’t live in Ambrose and you often wondered if the House of Wax was still doing good, if your family was still doing good. You wondered if they missed you like you missed them. A hole inside your chest was constantly making you feel sick, but you couldn't do anything about it. No one could do anything about it.
You missed the nickname of “the sun of Ambrose” quite a lot too. The little necklace around your neck, in the form of a sun, was there to give you some comfort.This jewel has been a gift from your parents when you were 7 years old. And you have never removed it since then.
And you wouldn’t now because it was the only thing left from your previous life. You weren’t even called a Sinclair anymore. It was as if everything had been a dream and you woke up pretty roughly when you were 9.
You didn’t truly remember everything that happened. You just knew that everything was going alright, you were safe in your family’s arms, you were loved, you were happy. And the next morning, your mother was gently waking you up.
She told you she needed you to come with her, that she had planned a secret birthday gift for your father and you were part of it. Didn’t your father call you “the best thing life ever gifted him” after all?
However, you needed to stay quiet, so no one would notice you were both leaving the house, so early on this Sunday morning. You obeyed your mother, no matter how hard it was for you to stay fully quiet, but you didn’t want to ruin the surprise for Bo. You were softly giggling behind your hand, innocent of what was truly happening. You left the house with your mother. She settled you in her car and drove away. You were getting curious as you were going away from Ambrose. You used to leave Ambrose only to go to Lester’s place or to go look for road kills with your uncle, but you never went so far away. Your mother wasn’t answering your questions either. You started to get upset with her and you wanted to come back home. It wasn’t fun anymore.
At some point, she stopped in front of a big building and asked you to stay there. You obeyed again because you used to trust the adults in your life, fidgeting with your fingers and the rime of your cute little dress. You saw your mother entering the building and you felt uneasy. You weren’t too sure what kind of gift it was, but you wanted to come home very quickly. You hoped your mother let at least know Vincent or Lester where you were. A little voice inside your head told you that they couldn’t know, otherwise you wouldn’t be there. But you left the house very easily, so they had to know, right? Or maybe Vincent and Bo were too exhausted from the hunt of the day before, and Lester wasn’t home, to notice you were gone with your mother.
You jumped when you heard a gunshot and screams coming from inside the building. You knew those sounds quite well, but it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like usual. You weren’t at home, you weren’t safe. You looked for your mother’s phone but you didn’t find it. You started to worry so you got out of the car and started to look around. You didn’t know what to do. Fear took possession of you when people you didn’t know ran to you. You were so terrified you didn’t fly away. You wouldn’t have been able to go far anyway, not under the burning sun, not with your cute little shoes and cute little dress. You silently prayed for your father to come get you soon.
You didn’t remember much of this moment, all happened in a quick blurr. You just remembered how terrifying it was that there were so many people checking on you and asking you questions. You told them you wanted your dad and your mom and you started to cry. No one listened to you and your dad never came to get you.
It was the last time you ever used your voice, after that, you grew mute. You cried even more when they took you away from the car and brought you inside the building. You were in an unfamiliar world, full of people who had no love for you. You were alone and powerless in the middle of adults who weren’t always nice to you. You were living your worst nightmare, without any hope to wake up anytime soon.
You spent days, weeks, months being asked questions about yourself, your family and where you came from. From those interrogations, you understood quite a few things:
No one knew anything about you, not even that you existed. You were like a ghost. Y/N Sinclair wasn’t registered anywhere. Actually, officially, there were no more Sinclair in the region. They disappeared like Ambrose disappeared from the maps. But why would the world need to know about you, when Ambrose was already your world?
Your mother went into the social care centre, told them she brought with her her child who was in danger, because your father was a killer. She told them the Sinclairs were abusive and violent people. Then she killed herself with a gun she stole from Bo. You didn’t know if it was true that the Sinclairs were abusive to her, because you never saw them hurting her. Maybe they hid this dark side of them from you because you were their heir. You didn’t believe your father was a killer though, how could he be when he loved you so much?
Your father always told you to keep Ambrose a secret, no matter what. He knew you would go to college or to university at some point - even if he wasn’t too happy with the idea - so he needed to make sure you wouldn’t say anything. It was the only promise you ever made to him, so when people started to ask you questions, you knew you had to stay silent or you would put your family in danger. And you didn’t want anything to happen to your father and uncles, otherwise how could they come get you and save you from this hell?
You had never cried so much in your life before, and now it was the only thing making people stop asking you questions. They did physical tests to make sure your mutism was psychological, which it was. They truly believed you were so shocked by what happened in your life, that you couldn’t talk anymore. However, the fact you already knew ASL - thanks to Vincent - made them wonder. The fact you refused to say anything about the Sinclairs too. You were a mystery no one seemed able to solve, a mystery that didn’t want to be solved actually.
You were relieved when you realised that even the police couldn’t find Ambrose, and hence your family. You didn’t understand when the police told you you had been sequestrated by your father. Yes, you used to be homeschooled, but you were happy. And no one ever hurt you before. And your father always told you that the rest of the world was a threat and dangerous for you. You believed him and now you could see how right he was.
You didn’t even cry for your mother’s death, because she betrayed you, your father and the family. And your father told you that family was everything and that you were everything to him. You were proud to be his daughter, his heir, his legacy.
Now, you were nothing.
You didn’t know if the Sinclairs knew what happened. But after several months, you guessed they had no idea where you were or they would have already got you back home. You would never know how Bo reacted when he saw his daughter gone, how he broke everything in Ambrose out of pure pain, how Vincent grew even more merciless to tourists, how Lester never asked himself anymore if it was alright to kill people. Killers without their sun only grew even more destructive.
Bo never stopped bringing gifts for you in your bedroom; a bedroom he never touched since your departure. Everything was like you left it, because he was still hoping all of this was a nightmare. Or maybe he was dead and this was hell and his personal punishment. If only he was truly dead, he thought more than once.
At some point, people stopped asking you questions, but you stayed silent, as if something died inside of you, or at least stayed in Ambrose. Talking was betraying your family, and you couldn’t be a traitor like your mother.
Life has been happy and easy. Now things were different.
You moved from place to place, from family to family. You were lucky enough to never be abused, but there was no joy and no laughter in your life anymore. Life was rough and children growing up around you, even rougher. The worst were the adults of course, because they thought they knew everything about you when they knew nothing. They thought you were a traumatised little girl, they thought you were a lost darling whose mother found social care before killing herself in front of everyone. They thought you were broken.
Two years later, you finally got adopted.
Everyone said you were so lucky to get adopted away so quickly and that you should be grateful that a couple decided to take you with them. You weren’t sure you were happy about it or not.
You couldn’t stop thinking about your real parents.
You never stopped wondering why your mother did what she did. If she wanted to kill herself, she could have done it without bringing you down with her. She might have believed she was saving you from hell. But “hell” was your home, and the only place you wanted to be. Hell was soft to you.
You wondered if your father found a new wife and got a new baby. You knew how important it was for him and your uncle Vincent to have an “heir”. Now you were gone, so they needed to replace you. You couldn’t replace them.
What if they never looked for you and that was why you never saw them again? What if you weren’t that important to them? What if the police found them? What if they got killed because of some tourists?
Those questions were driving you crazy at night and there was nothing you could do about them.
Your adoptive family was good to you though.
Not good like the Sinclairs used to be, of course, but they tried their best with you. They made sure you were doing good at school and that no one bullied you because of your past, or because you were mute. They learnt ASL for you.
But they didn’t call you their sun and they didn’t talk about legacy. They didn’t praise you everyday, they didn’t have a limitless amount of patience with you, they didn’t allow you to be fully yourself.
They even forced you to stay calm.
Sometimes, you could get angry, mad, or violent. Bo would have allowed you to get crazy so you would feel better. But in a normal world, you had to see a doctor and to take meds. But you didn’t want that, you didn’t want to believe you were simply so truly broken, you needed meds to be normal. You didn’t even want to be normal. And more than anything, you were tired of people talking about you in front of you without addressing you, you were tired of the other children whispering in your back, you were tired of people telling you what to do.
You were tired of being a prey when your father promised you you would be a huntress. You kept the anger for you and you let it burn you from the inside. You tried to play the role of the perfect and cute little angel so your parents would stop bringing you to the doctors and they would stop making sure you take your meds.
It worked. Of course, it worked, because you were a smart and dangerous girl.
You were a Sinclair. And you would forever be one.
However, one day, the anger got too strong.
--
PART II
--
Taglist: @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21
#house of wax 2005#house of wax x reader#house of wax x daughter#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair x you#bo sinclair x daughter#vincent sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair x you#vincent sinclair x niece#lester sinclair x reader#lester sinclair x you#lester sinclair x niece#slasher x reader#slasher x you#slasher x daughter#slasher x niece
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Long Lost Morningstar - Part Four
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairing(s): Seven Virtues' x reader (platonic), Charlie x reader (platonic), Lucifer x reader (platonic), Lilith x reader (platonic)
Genre: Angst/Betrayal
Warning(s): Cursing, lies, betrayal
Notes: FINALLY! I'm sorry this took me forever to post. I was, and still am, dealing with some school stuff. Truthfully it was a little rough trying to get this one out - along with school and work, I am losing motivation to write this. It could be that I burnt myself on Hazbin after reading so many fanfics for days on end until I eventually got tired. I'm still going to be writing this either way, I'd feel bad to suddenly stop out of nowhere. Funny thing is I'll probably feel motivated again once the second season airs. Oh, well. I'll post part five when I can and am able, so please bare with me and hopefully enjoy this long part for the time being. Thank you for your support - I'm really writing this for the ones reading this series and am grateful for your patience.
Words: 3,298
"I-Is that. . . my name? W-Why would my name be in Lucifer's court record?".
After learning about the exterminations (Y/N) wasted no time flying to the archangels' castle - her home.
She needed to know if they knew about the exterminations, and if so. . .
No, there's no way.
The Virtues' duty were to help remain peace and order - there's no way they'd be okay with the murdering of sinners.
Still, the fear and pain she felt for Charlie and Sera's betrayal made her impulsive.
So much so, that she flew past the archangels' secretary and burst through the doors of the meeting room where they were discussing important matters.
The archangel's were shocked to see (Y/N), who had just interrupted their meeting, looking completely disheveled and breathing heavily.
This behavior would normally be unacceptable, and if it were any other seraphim or angel they would be scolded and punished depending on severity of the offense.
But this was their little (Y/N), whose never interrupted their meetings without reason (or when she was a curious infant who somehow wandered in).
Michael stood up from his seat and flew over to his distressed daughter, "(Y/n). What's the matter?".
(Y/n) struggled to catch her breath, her mind and heart racing.
Michael placed his hands on her shoulders, "Deep breathes, sweetheart. Try to calm down". He gently cooed at her trying to help her find her breath and calm her nerves.
When (Y/N) had finally caught her breath she looked up at her father staring right into his eyes, "Did you know?".
Michael furrowed his brows confused, "Know what, sweetheart?".
(Y/N) took a deep breath before looking at him with sorrowful eyes, "About the exterminations."
Michael and the other archangels' were even more confused than before, "What exterminations?".
"The exterminations of the human souls in Hell."
The archangels' eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Michael looked down at his daughter with slight sternness, "What do you mean?".
(Y/N) went on to tell them all about what had happened at the trial from Charlie's hotel, Angel Dust, Sera's betrayal, to Adam's threat towards her cousin.
To say the archangels' were pissed would be a gross understatement.
How dare Sera and Adam play God and order such an atrocity right under their noses - and for it to be going on this long!
They were embarrassed to have been so ignorant.
Michael felt very uneasy about (Y/N)'s interaction with the Princess of Hell.
Yes, he had been aware his brother had birthed a child in Hell and hadn't seen an issue of (Y/n) of knowing as he was confident the two would never meet.
Well, that back fired horribly.
He couldn't discuss that with (Y/N) right now because, other than letting curiosity get the better of her once again, she hadn't done anything wrong.
She was clearly out of sorts with worry. She didn't need anything else but reassurance and comfort.
"Thank you for telling us. Don't worry, we'll be sure to handle this," Michael said trying to comfort his daughter.
"B-But, Charlie," (Y/N)'s breathing spiked, "A-Adam threatened t-to, to!". Tears flowed down to her red cheeks, her eyes red and puffy.
Michael gently shushed her wiping her tears, "Calm down, sweetie. We'll handle everything, especially Adam. Just go to your room and try to relax. I'll tell the staff to get you some tea."
(Y/N) shook her head, "B-But I need to help Charlie. I-I need to do something -,"
"No." Michael's tone was stern but gentle. "This is for the higher ranking angels to handle and you're too emotional right now to think clearly. Let us take care of this."
"Listen to your father, (N/N)." Azrael said his grin more menacing than usual. "And don't fret over Adam, we'll make sure to deal with him personally."
The other archangels' agreed without question. Adam wouldn't get away with making their precious niece cry.
(Y/N) realized her father was right, she was too emotional right now.
She was in no condition to deal with this as she was.
After saying goodbye to her family, (Y/N) went to her room to try and calm down.
Feeling completely exhausted and emotionally drained, (Y/N) passed out the second her head hit her pillow.
The next day (Y/N) woke up later than usual and saw a note on her beside table.
It was from her father telling her not to worry about her duties that day and to just rest.
(Y/N) was grateful to her father, but she was so restless about the trial and the upcoming extermination.
She got ready for the day and went down into the courts archives.
Maybe there was something she could use in the courts records to help Charlie.
Since she was a stenographer, a seraphim, and Michael's daughter no one questioned her being there.
In fact, many of the simps angels there were more than happy to help her.
(Y/N) declined most of their help, not wanting to garner unnecessary attention to what she was looking for or why.
She continued doing this for days making sure to cover her tracks so her father and uncles didn't catch wind of her little excursions.
Which was why most of them were in the dead of night.
She hadn't heard a word of what her father or uncles' were going to do about the exterminations.
But the times she's seen Adam and Lute, the two were still their cocky and douchey selves.
So, she knew the extermination was still on.
Why?
Why haven't the archangels' done anything yet?
What were they waiting for?
A small part of her wondered if they ended up agreeing with Sera and Adam and wanted to keep the exterminations on, but she quickly pushed those thoughts aside.
The archangels' duty was to follow the laws of Heaven, and the exterminations clearly went against that.
There's no way they'd be okay with keeping it going.
Still. . . they weren't working fast enough.
The month was almost over.
So, she continued researching wanting to find anything that would prove Sera and Adam wrong about Hell and prove Charlie's hotel worked or could work.
One night while everyone had turned in, (Y/N) snuck into the ancient archives - court records that dated over billions of years ago.
Maybe there was something in the older court records she could use.
She spent hours going through file after file, pulling out possible references to use, and making piles based on the dates.
The long hours started to get to her, the bags under her eyes more prominent with each passing minute.
Without realizing, her eyes lids shut and she slowly drifted to the side accidently knocking over a large pile she hadn't checked yet.
*THUD*
The sound of the falling files scared her awake.
"Oh shit!"
(Y/N) rubbed her eyes awake before going over to the scattered files. She really hoped no one had heard that thud.
As she was gathering all of the loose documents, there was one file folder that caught her eye. Labeled on the tab was 'Morningstar vs Heaven'.
Morningstar? That was Charlie's last name but this file was in one of the older court piles meaning this file was about -
"Lucifer. . .".
She's never read her uncle's trial record before. . . but if he was anything like Charlie then maybe there was something in those documents that could help her prove her cousin's dreams and beliefs.
After all, it was because of Lucifer's desire and dreams to show humanity free will that gifted humans the ability to dream and choose to be better.
She knew her father would frown at her view on Lucifer, but she had always thought there might have been some merit behind her uncle's choices.
She started to collect the documents, sometimes glancing over certain parts that caught her attention. However, as she was going through the files she saw something in one of the documents that she had never expected to see.
"I-Is that. . . my name? W-Why would my name be in Lucifer's court record?". (Y/N) bit her lip deciding if she should look through it or not.
In the end she decided to go through with it and read the document. It was probably nothing, just her mind playing tricks on her. She had been up for hours, after all.
However, the moment her eyes scanned through each line her heart dropped into her stomach.
Sera: Take the child.Court angels: (takes the infant (Y/N) Morningstar from the arms of her parents, Lucifer Morningstar and Lilith)
"P-Parents?".
The rest of the documents recounted Lucifer and Lilith's guilty verdict, their sentencing to Hell, and the courts final proceedings.
(Y/N) wanted to refuse everything she had read, wanting to call it all lies.
But stenographers, especially in Heaven, cannot lie when recording. The magic imbedded within the typewriter wouldn't allow it.
Still, it just couldn't be true. . . Maybe this was another (Y/N), one she's never met. There was no way it was talking about her.
However, before (Y/N) could attempt to convince herself even more she noticed one final document lying on the floor. She recognized what kind of document it was immediately.
It was a Heavenly Ordinance.
She slowly reached for the golden paper and started to read it.
"By Heavenly decree, it is now ordered that all residents, and new ones to come, are forbidden from tempting humanity or breaking Heaven's rules. All residents must obey and turn from all misguided thoughts, dreams, and or endeavors. All violators will receive punishment. It is also ordered that the Heavenborn seraphim, (Y/N) Morningstar, is now under the care of the Seven Virtues; specifically Archangel Michael Demiugros. The infant's name will be changed to (Y/N) Demiugros. The child will have no connection to Lucifer Morningstar and Lilith, and will be told Michael Demiugros is her father/parent who crafted her from stardust. All Heavenly residents aware of the child's true lineage are forbidden from speaking on the matter. All violators will be punished severely."
(Y/N) felt like she couldn't breath.
Her hands were shaking, her heart pounding in her chest.
Oh, God.
She wanted to deny it and believe all of this was some sick prank.
But even she knew no one in Heaven would dare fake writing a Heavenly Ordinance, let alone play such a cruel prank or joke.
Besides, the Heavenly Seal at the bottom of the document was proof of its authenticity.
Heaven would never allow a fake to be placed with the court records.
It took a while for her to calm down.
Looking at the clock mounted on the wall, she saw how late it was.
The court angels who had the early morning shift would be here in two hours.
Wiping the tears that had gathered in her eyes, she used her magic to help clean up her mess and put all of the documents back into their original places - except for one.
When she started to put Lucifer's file away, she stared at the ordinance.
She paused for a moment before folding it up and shoving it into her pocket.
After everything was put away (Y/N) went back to her room with her mind buzzing and heart racing.
She woke up five hours later to the sound of her alarm.
She felt absolutely exhausted.
At first she thought it had all been a dream, a really bad dream.
But when she checked her pockets and pulled out the folded up golden paper, she knew it wasn't.
She was heartbroken.
The feeling of betrayal and hurt plaguing her soul.
Why?
Why did they lie to her?
Why did they do all of this?
Now everything made sense.
Why she was so restricted from practically everything.
Why everyone in her family kept her so close and away from any of the higher seraphim duties.
Why she really looked like Lilith. . .
To top it all off, the person she had believed to be her father this whole time was actually her uncle.
She truly didn't know how to feel, and she wondered if Charlie knew.
Probably not given how shocked the Hellborn had been to hear she had a 'cousin'.
Though, now she knew why she felt such a strong connection to Charlie.
They were sisters.
And if Charlie hadn't known about her, she doubted Lucifer or Lilith did.
She wondered what else Heaven has lied to her about.
. . . Did they even love her?
If she really was the spawn of the ones who damned humanity, did they only keep her for their own benefit?
Have they actually hated her this entire time?
These thoughts brought tears to her eyes.
The rest of the day as she continued on with her duties, she thought back to her family and her newly discovered ones.
Whenever she interacted with her family in Heaven, she did her best to keep up appearances.
There was no way to tell what would happen if they found out what she knew.
So, she decided to bite her tongue.
No matter how much she wanted to scream and cry.
She wondered if they were even going to do anything about the exterminations.
She was starting to doubt it since she hadn't heard anything new; though, would they even tell her?
And Adam and Lute were as smug as ever.
That made her angelic blood boil.
Did they really hate Lucifer, Charlie, her, and sinners so much that they would allow this atrocity to continue?
Even though it went against everything Heaven stood for?!
No.
(Y/N) wouldn't stand for this.
If she was going to help Charlie, she would have to take matters into her own hands.
Luckily, Michael and her other uncles' taught her basic combat.
Hopefully that would at least help her fed off a few exorcists.
The next few days leading up to the extermination, (Y/N) secretly stole some angelic armor and weapons.
She eavesdropped on Adam and Lute trying to find out their plans and the exact time of the extermination.
She even continued to gather information for Charlie to help prove her hotel could work.
She acted as she usually did in front of others to avoid suspicion.
She planned to sneak out the night before the extermination to help Charlie and her hotel prepare for the fight.
She was a little nervous about seeing her newly discovered sister, and possibly her biological father, but she knew she would have to suck it up and wait until after the battle was over.
The morning before the extermination, (Y/N) felt more than prepared - she had everything she needed before tonight.
Everything was going according to plan.
"What seems to be the problem here?" Michael asked the court angel who seemed to be a bit out of sorts.
"W-Well, sir, there seems to be a document missing from one of the court records".
Michael rose a brow, "Okay? Which records?".
"U-Um. . . one of the ancient records, sir."
'Ancient records?'
Michael's brows furrowed - why would a document be missing from one of the oldest records in Heaven? Hardly anyone uses or reads them. They're mainly there as historical records now.
"Strange. . . Which record was it then?"
The court angel gulped, "U-Um. . , i-it-"
Michael glared slightly annoyed, "Just say it!"
"I-It was from Lucifer Morningstar's, s-sir!"
Michael's eyes widened, "Lucifer's?"
"Y-Yes, sir. We noticed some of the court records had been a little out of place the past couple of days, but thought nothing of it as everything was neatly put back. But this morning one of the court angel's found a feather between Lucifer's record, and when they opened it they saw one of the documents inside was missing."
Michael frowned, "Which document?"
". . . The Heavenly Ordinance, sir."
'The Heavenly Ordinance? Why. . . Why would anyone take that?'
"This was the feather that was found inside the court record."
The court angel presented Michael a singular feather. It was beautiful and the design looked very familiar -
Michael's breath hitched as he looked closely at the feather. He snatched the feather out of the court angel's hand looking at it even closer.
'No, no, no - it can't be!'
Without another word Michael flew out of the room leaving very confused and concerned court angels'.
'There's no way! She cannot possibly know!'
Lost in his own frantic thoughts, Michael failed to notice a certain archangel in his path, and proceeded to crash right into him.
"Woah, Michael! What's the rush?" Azrael asked wincing from the impact.
Michael looked at his brother, fear in his eyes, "Azrael. I-It's terrible. . . (Y-Y/N). . . S-She-"
"(Y/N)? Did something happen to her?" Azrael asked worried. He's never been his brother so distressed before.
"S-She. . . She knows."
Azrael furrowed his brows, "'Knows?' Knows, what?"
"About Lucifer. . . the truth about Lucifer and Lilith."
Michael proceeded to tell Azrael the events that happened taken place in the courts archives.
"That's strange," Azrael hummed. "Just as strange as the report I just got that some angelic armor and weapons are missing."
Azrael saw Michael's expression morph into one of absolute horror and waved his hands trying to dismiss his brother's thoughts, "But it could all just be a coincidence!".
Placing his hands onto Michael's shoulders, Azrael looked into his eyes, "Michael. You know (Y/N). As curious as she is, she's not reckless or stupid. She knows her place in Heaven and wouldn't dare ruin that. Have more faith - after all, you are the one who raised her."
Michael calmed his nerves as he listened to his brother's advice. He's right. (Y/N) was raised right and she would never do something that would jeopardize her place in Heaven. Someone else had to have misplaced the document, armor, and weapons.
. . . Still. . .
He couldn't shake off the ugly feeling in his gut.
Hours had passed and it was now late into the night.
To everyone around her (Y/N) was her normal graceful, polite, and dutiful self.
Almost like she hadn't been stressed out the entire month worrying for her cousin, who she recently discovered was actually her sister, and finding out her entire life has been a total lie.
She really played the part of the obedient seraphim quite well.
But right now, she was anything but.
Right now she was the sleep deprived heartbroken, scorned girl who no longer knew who she was or who she could trust here.
But, she was going to find out.
While the rest of the castle was asleep, (Y/N) changed from her night gown into light but durable angelic armor.
She wore her long blonde hair in a high ponytail and carried a long angelic spear on her back (along with a few angelic daggers and a whip on her hips).
Once ready, she quietly unlocked her balcony door trying to make as little noise as possible.
She could feel her nerves shake.
She's never been in a real fight before.
She knew what she was doing was dangerous; and if found out, could lead her into a world of trouble.
Looking back behind her she glanced over her room.
Her eyes landing on a picture frame found sitting on her vanity.
It had a photo of when she was little.
In it she was hugging Michael with her favorite duck plushie in her arms.
They both had such big smiles.
Sadness filled her heart as tears pricked her eyes.
Had it all been a lie?
Well. . . either way, she would find out later.
Charlie needed her right now.
She smiled sadly at the duck plushie laying in her bed silently wishing for luck.
Steeling her nerves, (Y/N) internally prepared herself for the battle ahead.
What she wasn't prepared for was to come face to face with Michael the moment she turned around.
Taglist:
@soobryu @kyo-kyo1 @miyako-night20 @charliecharlie65 @unknow-sama @myluckymoon @lbcreations-blog @moonchaos18 @sirenetheblogger @jagharamira @el-hajj @azharyy @glowymxxn @itsmonicabc @lxkeee @aria-tempest @glowinthedarkbones1150 @sashaphantomhive @0strawberrysorbet0 @serenity-loves-red @snowy-violet @aishallnotbefound
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin lucifer#hazbin x reader#hazbin charlie#hazbin michael#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lilith#hazbin hotel lilith#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel reader insert#hazbin hotel michael#hazbin azrael#hazbin hotel azrael
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Alright so 23.5 aka Toxic Positivity: The Series aka Everyone Teaches The Loser Queer Girl The World Is Kinder Than She Thinks By Viciously Gaslighting Her About Homophobia: The Series aka Teacher4Teacher Yuri and Everything Else Is Getting Memoryholed: The Series!!!
I'm certain that so many words have been written about this already, but I haven't been on tumblr since Monday so I need to just exorcise my own reactions before I read anyone else's.
I am really intentional these days about giving space to art to be descriptive rather than prescriptive, that is, to portray people acting in ways I find annoying or aggravating or cruel or despicable and to not jump to "how DARE this narrative betray me by saying it's good, actually, to be annoying or aggravating or cruel or despicable" even if the people who do those things in the text are supported by the other characters or circumstances in the text. I am very against "character acted badly, therefore bad things should happen to them so we can KNOW the narrative understands they were bad".
However!!! For this series to have ONGSA'S OWN PARENTS ACT AS SPOKESPEOPLE FOR SUN'S PERSPECTIVE. Like her parents, who Ongsa was visibly afraid were going to reject her for her queerness, not only not care she's queer (because homophobia is fake in this universe except for Ongsa's inexplicable internalized homophobia which is treated as a character flaw), but behave like automatons Sun programmed dialogue into, scolding Ongsa for 1. not coming out to them sooner 2. "thinking for" Sun, as if that's something they'd have any context for (even IF Aylin and Alpha filled them in). That took the sense of "this narrative is taking Sun's side in her forced outing of her partner, doubling down on it and making sure every single character agrees she was right" to the next fucking level.
It had the vibes of being a supportive coming out scene too but they weren't embracing their daughter for who she was - they certainly weren't letting her have her own identity and voice and needs! - they were just drumming home how correct Sun was in her every teenaged interpretation of who Ongsa was and should be. So that moved me firmly away from being able to employ a "Sun is a teenager behaving like a teenager" read on a storyline I find noxious. That moved us firmly into the territory of "we are being strongarmed into agreeing Sun is a JUSTIFIED, morally righteous teenager, who fixed her relationship/girlfriend by outing her against her will."
It's just truly flabbergasting to me because without the outing plotline (which I understand was in the novel so maybe that's why it was forced on us despite its dissonance with the rest of the story), there are the ingredients of something I really, truly could have loved:
Sun being scared by the intensity of her own attachment and behaving badly because of it. This is literally one of my number one tropes of all time. I am OBSESSED with people becoming their worst selves because they're so terrified of how in love they are, the depth of their need for their partner.
Sun feeling bitter about giving up her future for Ongsa and not believing Ongsa (ONGSA) would do a similar level gesture for her, when Ongsa doesn't want her to give up her future for her and really Sun's bitterness is an internal cue that she doesn't want to give up her future herself, even if she loves Ongsa desperately and passionately.
Ongsa being so focused on what everyone else thinks of her and Sun that she can't hear Sun tell her what Sun thinks, and wants.
Much more importantly to me, Ongsa being so trapped in articulating her own needs as "I was worried about how things would affect you, Sun!" that she cannot voice her own actual feelings about things: "I don't want to come out because I'm afraid my parents will reject me." "I don't want to come out because I'm not ready for the entire school's hyper-scrutiny on me and my relationships." There was a really narratively rich story there where Ongsa tells Sun everything she does is with Sun in mind, and it takes a little bit of untangling to admit that actually, she has her own needs SUN is not hearing and those fucking matter too.
There was a great, great episode 11 conflict in those dynamics. They could have fought about who sits in front on Sunny the motorbike drawing on those dynamics and given me a more compelling episode than what we actually fucking got. You know?
And that's not even getting into the, I feel, missteps with Aylin's writing and that relationship the past two episodes, or the way they won't let MawinTon be great and I'm actually afraid Mawin is going to end the series single and we'll be expected to appreciate how pure his supportive onesided love for Tinh is.
Honestly probably good there was no teacher4teacher yuri in ep11 because I'm sure they would have found a way to ruin the number one thing I will be describing as this series' strength going forward. Well, that and the acting. MilkLove are acting their ASSES off. but for what.
#23point5#sorry i love to have fun and give the most generous read i can but this episode stunned me in its badness#this episode made me feel more charitable towards the end of only friends. LIKE#23.5#23.5 the series#23.5 degrees#dear diary
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chance encounters | pt. 4
character(s): we got all the Triple Frontier boys in this chapter (obvi except Tom). Benny Miller, Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Frankie “Catfish” Morales, fem!Reader
summary: You've won the last four of your fights and now you're undefeated. With Benny and the rest of the guys helping you through your grief, you start to believe that things are getting better... you start to feel like you can live your life. Until one day brings you back to square one and you demand a title fight that you're not ready for.
word count: 3.1k
a/n: Grief isn't linear... I feel like every chapter is a special one to me, but this one... It hits close to home more so than the other chapters. Hope y'all enjoy.
warnings: grief
series masterlist | ultimate masterlist
Since Frankie and the guys surprised you at the beach, things seemed to be getting better. You feel hopeful that you’re able to move forward and continue to live your life, even with the absence of your best friend. Sure, there are still days where your grief cripples you, but you’re able to pull yourself out of it much more quickly. It helps that you’re now able to allow people in to help you.
It’s been a couple of months since that day on the beach and you’re much lighter. You don’t feel a heaviness that sits on your chest at every waking moment of the day. Even when you go to train with Benny, you allow yourself to actually have fun, to smile and laugh. It’s been such a long time since you felt like this and you weren’t sure that you ever would.
You and Frankie talk almost every day. If it’s not over the phone or through text, he arrives at the gym with the rest of the guys at the tail end of your training session with Benny. It’s almost like you settle into a routine with him and you would be lying to yourself if you said that his presence provided a calmness that you haven’t felt in so long and a calmness that you didn’t realize you were yearning for since losing your best friend.
He sometimes gives you a kiss on the cheek when he greets you, hand on your lower back. Frankie will usually pull away slowly and look at you through the tops of his eyelashes, nose brushing against yours. You know there’s a mutual attraction, but you’re not there yet. You aren’t sure if you can ever get there, but he doesn’t ever pressure you. Frankie silently acknowledges it, acknowledges the fact that you aren’t ready for more than just friends, and instead, he just gives you a small smile and a single nod as if to say, I know. I’ll be here when you are ready.
And truthfully, you’re thankful. You’re thankful for Frankie, you’re thankful for Benny, for Will, for Santiago. When you found out that your best friend died about nine months ago, you didn’t think that moving on with your life was possible. Though, part of you is still afraid. You do your best to be open, to rely on Frankie and the rest of the guys, but if you’re being honest with yourself, you’re afraid to get too close to any of them even though it feels like you can’t even imagine life without any of them anymore. The possibility of losing any of them sits uneasily in the pit of your stomach. You know it’s highly unlikely that anything bad would happen, but at the same time, you’ve gotten used to being on edge after losing your best friend. You never thought that you would ever lose him this early; you always imagined that he would be right there next to you as you both grow old, your own families just as close as you were with him.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
You were going to grow old. Without him. And it still hurts. To know that when you get married and walk down the aisle, he won’t be there. To know that when you may become a mother, he won’t be there.
And it seems like all of those things seem so out of reach, like it isn’t what you want anymore.
Even getting close to Frankie as you are now, it’s scary. You know that you have feelings for him and you’re aware that he has feelings for you, but you can’t bring yourself to get there… To lean in to kiss him, to have him spend the night because that means opening up your heart again and allowing him to settle into it with the possibility of losing him.
And you aren’t sure if you can handle that kind of pain again.
—
“Undefeated,” Benny grins proudly. “Four fights in and you’ve won every single one of them.”
“Helps to have a good coach,” you smile, leaning back against the cage. Your training session just ended, always a dripping mess of sweat at the end of it. Benny pushes you to your limit every time you train with him, never allowing you to ease up even if it is only training. And you’re grateful because it transcends into every fight you’ve had so far. Even when you get rocked, even when you want to give up, Benny always reminds you that you’re just not wired like that. Your fighter name is The Warrior for a reason.
“You know I love compliments,” Benny winks. “Keep ‘em coming.”
You roll your eyes and lie back on the mat, staring up at the ceiling as you continue to cool down and catch your breath. “You and the guys heading out tonight?”
“I think they’re actually gonna bring dinner here. Wanna stay?”
“Sure, that’d be nice.”
Benny smiles. “I’m proud of you,” he says softly. “I know losing someone isn’t ever easy, but–”
“Frankie told me you guys were all former military,” you interrupt.
“We’ve lost people,” Benny nods. “Lost someone very close to us. There used to actually be five of us.”
“Frankie mentioned that, yeah.”
“You and Frankie talk a lot, hm?”
You look over at Benny and see him grinning in your direction. You know where his mind went and you reach over to gently slap his leg. “It’s nothing like that.”
Benny scoffs. “I have eyes. We have eyes. Plus, he talks a lot about you.”
“He does?” you ask, brow arching. “I just like being around him.”
“Well, good. He’s a good guy. Been through a lot. We all have, but him especially.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to open myself up to him,” you admit quietly. “I’m scared, Benny.”
He sighs and hears the front door open, followed by quiet chatter and laughter from Will, Santiago, and Frankie. Then, Benny looks over at you and helps you to your feet. “Don’t force it. Frankie’s a patient man. And I know he likes you a lot.”
“What if he waits around and I just never get there? I don’t want him waiting around for me.” you whisper.
Benny shrugs, hearing his name being called. “You’ll get there.”
“But how do you know?”
“I just do.” He smiles, leading you out of the cage. “Just take it day by day.”
When you get closer to the rest of the guys, Frankie’s the first one to pull you in for a hug. He doesn’t even mind that you’re sweaty; he just loves feeling your body against him, feeling your arms wrap around him. “Hey,” he whispers, pulling away and pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
“Hi,” you look up at him, letting the corner of your lips lift slightly. “I’m all sweaty and you just hugged me.”
Frankie chuckles, putting his hands into his pockets. “Doesn’t bother me.”
You blush slightly and then turn your attention to greet Santiago and Will, who also pull you into a hug. “Okay, I’m gonna take a quick shower since being sweaty is only bothering me.”
You grab your duffle bag and head to the locker room and showers in the back of the gym, faintly hearing the rest of the guys begin to talk. It takes only fifteen minutes before you walk back out to see the rest of the guys sitting on the mats. Your hair is damp and you’re now dressed in shorts and an oversized crewneck. You move to sit next to Frankie, who leans his body closer to yours.
“You hungry?” he asks.
“Starving,” you grin, taking a slice of pizza and lifting it to your lips. You subconsciously lean against Frankie, head resting on his shoulder and you’re so focused on eating that you don’t realize that the rest of the guys are staring at the both of you with a grin on their faces.
You’re so calm, so at ease with Frankie next to you and the rest of the guys nearby. When you look up, you furrow a brow and finish eating your slice of pizza. “What?” you ask, grabbing a napkin and quickly wiping your lips. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No,” Santiago chuckles. “It’s nothing.”
“Right,” you say slowly, realizing that you were so close to Frankie that you pull away and clear your throat. “So, Benny, when’s my next fight?”
Benny chuckles. “You’ve been pretty active these last six months. We should take it easy for a bit, at least until the end of the year.”
“But I want to fight.”
“I know you do, but if your goal is to get the belt, you also gotta take some rest.”
“I have good momentum. I’m undefeated. If I take a break now, I might–”
“It’s not up for discussion,” Benny sighs.
“Okay,” you say. You trust Benny and you know that he has your best interests in mind, so you don’t push it any further. “Okay, Benny,” you repeat. “But we can still train, right?”
Will smiles. “You’re probably the most dedicated person I know,” he says.
“I made a commitment,” you reply. “And I promised Benny I’d work my ass off. No matter what.”
“Maybe we should all take a break,” Santiago says with a grin. “Maybe we should take a week-long trip or something.”
“You know, that doesn’t actually sound too bad.” Frankie says, gently nudging you with his shoulder. “What do you think, hermosa?”
“Where would we go?” you ask.
“Anywhere,” Santiago shrugs.
“Maybe,” you whisper. “Maybe.”
—
The following day, you take a break from training. Benny’s actually surprised, especially since he was going to give you a call that morning to tell you that he wouldn't be able to come in due to some errands he needed to run.
You’re sitting in your car, waiting to go into the grocery store when something - no, someone - catches your eye. It’s a side profile of a stranger, but it makes your breath catch in your throat. It’s such a similar walk, such a similar profile of your best friend. Even the way this man dresses reminds you of him. You’re gripping the steering wheel, unable to move as your eyes never leave this man who’s walking across the parking lot. You whisper your best friend’s name and when the man turns around, your world comes crashing down.
For a brief moment, the reality of losing your best friend didn’t seem real. This man, this stranger, resembled your best friend so much that you were sure this was your best friend. But when he turns around and you manage to get a full view of his face, you realize that he isn’t your best friend.
Your best friend is gone.
Even the way this man smiles and talks animatedly to his friend reminds you of the best friend you lost. Your best friend who is no longer in this world. Your best friend who promised to always be there for you, but is no longer here. And when his eye catches yours, he gives you a nod with a furrowed brow before he climbs into his car.
You’re back to square one. You can’t move. Your mind is filled with thoughts of your best friend. You’re reliving the moment when you found out about his death, experiencing the same dreadful feeling that settles into the pit of your stomach. And just like before, you’re filled with so much anger and so much guilt and regret.
The last couple of months were just a distraction. It gave you a glimpse that things could get better, but you were naive in thinking that it was possible. There is just no way that you can move forward with your life, not without your best friend here.
Your mind briefly drifts to Frankie, to Benny, Will, and Santiago. You know you should call them, know you should tell them that you’re stuck and you can’t seem to bring yourself out of it, but you don’t. It isn’t their problem. You are not their problem.
So, instead, you send a text to Benny. Simple. Short. And straight to the point.
Get me a title fight. I’m ready.
Benny responds almost immediately. You’re not ready. We already talked about you taking a break. End of discussion.
Your jaw tightens. You want to scream. You want to hit something. If you’re not gonna get me a title fight, then I’m going to go to someone else that will.
You signed a contract. What’s going on? Are you okay? Benny replies.
I’m fine. Get me my title fight, Benny.
Get to the gym. We can talk more about it then.
Without replying, you peel out of the grocery store and make your way to Benny’s gym. You had plans to make dinner, to invite Frankie over, but that is no longer the priority. You’re pulling away and you realize that it’s best for everyone if you keep your distance from all of them.
You park your car and walk into Benny’s gym, seeing Frankie, Will, and Santiago on the mats drenched in sweat. You know they had just finished their workout. They all stand to greet you, but notice the look on your face. You don’t even spare another glance in their direction before you’re walking towards Benny’s office in the back.
You don’t even knock. You open the door and see him sitting at his desk.
“You aren’t ready,” Benny begins. “You’re going to get hurt.”
“I don’t give a fuck, Benny. Get me my fucking title fight.”
“You are not ready!” he yells. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
“Nothing. I don’t want to take a break. I want to fight.”
“I know you do,” he sighs. “But you’re going to get burnt out and you’re going to be more prone to injury. Please, I’m only looking out for y–”
“No, you’re not!” you interrupt, voice raising and hands clenched into fists at your sides. “Like I said, if you can’t get me a title fight, I’ll find someone else who can. Fuck our contract.”
Benny stands abruptly, chair screeching on the floor as he does. He can tell you’re fuming, can tell that you’re on the verge of tears and whatever happened from last night to today, he’s sure it’s the reason why you’re in his office, threatening him.
“Talk to me,” he says quietly. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing!” you yell. “Get me my fight, Benny.” You’re walking out of his office with your fists still clenched so tightly at your sides. Benny’s calling your name, walking after you, but you don’t listen. You ignore him and ultimately ignore the rest of the guys’ pleas to get you to stop walking.
It isn’t until you hear Frankie’s voice that you stop to look at him. His deep, brown eyes are staring at you with concern in them. For a moment, you falter and you want to burst into tears right then and there, but you’re so angry and so hurt over the loss of your best friend that it prevents you from asking for help.
“What’s going on?” Santiago asks.
“She’s asking for a title fight and she’s not ready.” Benny sighs.
“I thought you were gonna take a break?” Will says, seeing the way your body is slightly trembling.
“No.” You respond, your eyes finally moving away from Frankie. “Benny, get me my fight or I’m breaking our contract and going to a gym and coach that will get me what I want.”
“You’re gonna get hurt,” Benny says. “I’m not going to put you in a cage where you’re gonna get your ass kicked.”
“So, you don’t believe in me?” you laugh bitterly, sarcastically. “I thought I was your little warrior.”
“You are,” Benny sighs. “Please, I’m just–”
“Hermosa,” Frankie says softly. “Just talk to us.”
“Nothing to talk about. I want my title fight.” Then, you storm out of the gym and walk back into your car. Once inside, tears begin to stroll down your face and you hit your steering wheel plenty of times that your knuckles begin to bruise. Then, you scream and when you shut your eyes, all you see is your best friend. And it’s not even the good times you see, instead, behind closed eyelids all you see is him lying in the casket during his viewing.
Then, you hear a quiet knock on your window and you turn to see Frankie. His eyes are filled with worry and concern, but instead, you start your car and pull out of your parking spot. He doesn’t even try to rush after you. Instead, he stays in the parking lot and watches you drive away. He knows something happened, he just isn’t sure exactly what.
Benny, Santiago, and Will join him outside and they all watch your car drive further away from the gym.
“You’re not thinking about getting her that fight, are you?” Frankie asks.
“I have to,” Benny sighs.
“You said it yourself, she’ll get hurt. Why would you even entertain the idea of getting her that fight?” Santiago asks.
Will’s the one who speaks up. “Benny can keep an eye on her during the fight. If she goes somewhere else, do you think that gym or that coach has her best interests at heart?”
Frankie shakes her head. “She’s fucking upset. She’s hurting and you’re going to put her in a cage with someone who can hurt her? Are you insane?”
“What else am I supposed to do?! Will’s right. She will go to another gym and another coach will see her potential and overwork her, put her in fights that she isn’t ready for.” Benny yells. “Do you think I want to give her what she wants?”
“Something happened today,” Santiago sighs. “I think we should give her time to cool down. Maybe she’ll come to her senses…”
“She won’t.” Frankie says.
Benny nods in agreement. “Frankie’s right. She won’t change her mind. You didn’t–” he sighs, “You didn’t see the look on her face, the look in her eyes. The last time I saw that look was the first day I met her.”
“What do we do?” Frankie asks quietly.
“We can’t do anything,” Will says. “She has to want the help, Frankie. You know that.”
“So, we just let her suffer? Let her deal with this grief by herself?”
“Hermano,” Santiago sighs. “We can’t force her to come to us. It’s just going to push her away.”
“She’s already pushing away!”
“If anyone can get through to her, it’s you, Fish,” Benny says. “But if you want my advice? Give her space. She came to you once. She’ll do it again.”
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character#pedro pascal character fanfic#garrett hedlund#garrett hedlund character#oscar isaac#oscar isaac character#charlie hunnam#charlie hunnam character#triple frontier#triple frontier fanfic#triple frontier fanfiction#story: chance encounters
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I remember you once wrote a post about snape not being written how JK rowling thought she did, can you elaborate on that please perhaps? I also heard he is so much more of a dick in the books (never read the books, only watched the movies some time ago xd)
Anon. Sit down. I have shit to SAY. Okay, so, Snape is 100% worse in the fucking books. He insults hermione so viciously that she permanently alters her appearance. He threatens to poison Neville's toad and actually punishes Gryffindor house when Hermione prevents that from happening. He constantly goes out of his way to insult, belittle, and embarrass Harry. There is no reason why an eleven year old boy should feel as though a teacher hates him. There's no reason why he should be right. Let's get one thing straight: Snape does not like Harry. He only protects Harry because of his love for Lily. He straight up admits it. Dumbledore asks him "You've grown to care for the boy?" and Snape says "for HIM???" Like. If Harry was not the son of lily, would Snape care about him at all? If Harry was the exact same boy (same personality, same everything), except that his mother was not lily, would Snape give a shit about him? No, right? So how can anyone say that Snape likes *Harry*? He doesn't! People will say that Snape had to be cruel to Harry to keep up his facade, but I call bullshit. Snape did not have to go as far as he did. When Snape catches Harry alone with the mauraders map, he insults Harry even though there is no one else alone. Tell me who he is putting on a show for? Harry already thinks Snape hates him, so why did Snape take that opportunity to viciously dig into him? Also, why does nobody talk about the fact that Snape chose to become a death eater in the first place? "He had to put on an act" Why join the play in the first place?? In my opinion, JKR gives him too many irredeemable characteristics and/or choices. Also wouldn't it have been a more sensible decision for him to be a good teacher to everyone? For someone who was trying to keep his secret identity under wraps, he does a poor job. Harry and his friends suspect him CONSTANTLY. Harry goes to Dumbledore multiple times about Snape still being in allegiance with the dark lord. If Snape's reasoning for being cruel to Harry and the non-Slytherins was so he would not draw suspicion to himself, he does an absolute shit job at it lmao.
Snape isn't an awful person as a facade. He's awful because that's who he genuinely is. Don't believe me? Well, we get a look at him outside of school, before he has any death eaters to impress. My beef with JKR is that we're supposed to forgive Snape after one chapter. The chapter "The Prince's Tale" is supposed to redeem Snape.
One. Singular. Chapter. In the final book of a 7 book series is supposed to undo every single thing we've seen so far. I'm not saying that's impossible, but I am saying it's not the chapter JKR seems to think it is. We're supposed to believe that Snape is so redeemed after this chapter that Harry deadass names his son after him. It absolutely KILLS me that in the chapter JKR uses to prove that Snape is a good person, he does more bad shit! It's not filled with cute Snape moments; it's filled with moments where he's a creepy ass young adult. He enters the potters' house after they die and you know what he does? He rips a photo containing Harry, James, and lily, and keeps the portion containing lily. That's fucking creepy! That photo could have been given to Harry, but no! Snape just had to keep the portion containing Lily.
When he's a teenager, he tells lily he won't "let" her do something (I forget exactly what it was). Lily accuses him of wanting to be a death eater and he not only doesn't deny it, but lily CALLS him out for not denying it. That is something that canonically happens. Snape DOES become a death eater! He is friends with people who do dark magic. He calles Lily a slur in front of a crowd of people. He's shown to have blood purist beliefs as a child; Lily asks him if her being muggleborn makes any difference and he hesitates before answering. It's clear he DOES think being a muggleborn makes someone less. I can forgive Snape for being a weirdo as a kid. Everything is more acceptable when you're a small child, but he never changes. In the chapter JKR uses to justify everything Snape has done so far, she shows him STILL being a bad person even outside of school!! She seems to think she wrote some tortured hero who was kind deep down, but she wrote a bully who was so obsessive over one woman that he didn't care about whether her husband and child died so long as she remained alive. Snape loved Harry? Snape was okay with him dying as a baby lmao. Once again, Snape only cared about Lily. JKR wrote Snape as obsessive when she clearly meant to write him as deeply in love. That's what I mean when I say she didn't write him how she seems to think.
Also, as an aside, I truly feel like Draco and Snape are kind of the same, but jkr HATES Draco, and that makes no sense to me lmao. Like, the series would have been better tied together if Draco was redeemed as well. I'm not saying Draco is a good person, but to call Snape a good person despite him being a cruel grown man, and in the same breath condemn Draco who is literally just a child who grew up in a racist family? What sense does that make.
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#wait no#I know this is The Series Where Bad Things Happen#but they shouldn't happen so much to Brienne#Jaime probably thought he wanted a soft helpless woman but not anymore#she doesn't want to fail him!#he is as meaningful to her as her duty and her own family!#Red Ronnet threw a rose at her but A ROSE WAS NO GOOD#and JAIME LANNISTER GAVE HER THE SWORD SHE WANTED#*incoherent howling*#Brienne of Tarth#Jaime x Brienne#Braime#ALSO shoutout to Podrick Payne the real MVP#who has been at court and on battlefields and knows a knight when he sees one#and whose instinct is always to address Brienne as a knight#A Feast for Crows
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reading animorphs sequentially instead of in whatever random order you can get your hands on them is such a trip because you can see these kids getting progressively better at war and worse at being happy, you can see how traumatic events from one book echo into the next ones but never quite get dealt with because these kids have no real way to take care of their mental health, you can see their relationships deepening but simultaneously gaining friction and faultlines as they learn just how far they'd go for each other but also how far they'd go in general...
obviously this series was meant to be episodic in nature, and i actually think that might be the better way to first encounter it, but the arc of the series in publication order is extremely well-crafted
#though im having to take a break#i just read 16 and like. In the context of Jake's endgame it has me so fucked up#i mean it's a lot in itself especially since he doesnt really deal with any of what happened#but also like. him genuinely not knowing if he thinks fenestre killing hosts to get their yeerks is okay ot not?#its a bad turning point for him but also still so much better than where he ends up and im too sad#animorphs#tbh im very [miles studying beter meme] about this#its so good at establishing character and themes#and laying down plot hooks for later#in a format i really dont think about much#Semi-episodic book series arent really a thing anymore are they?
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new rgg fans will never know what they missed back in ye olden days of the fandom (like, 2019), doubly so now that scott strichart's deleted his twitter and jon riesenbach's privated. twitter was so fucking fun and then whatever-the-hell at sega of america happened and caused a fucking snowball effect and now we have shitass localization and resulting discourse that makes every release nigh unbearable, misinformation, confusion, people complaining about "bad writing/mischaracterization" not realizing it's because of the shitass english loc, i'm sitting here like jesus christ these loc bitches massacred saejima's character voice, people will never see him as he was intended, as original yakuza 5 localization Correctly painted him, and now they're coming for kiryu. god help us. we used to be a proper fandom. before everyone was subjected to the remastered localizations and shaky eng characterization. no one had even played yakuza 3-5, people still called morning glory "sunshine" orphanage, kiryu was our only protagonist and people still called him "boring", it was beautiful...
anyway gaiden uses affective instead of effective because the current localization team is full of careless dumbasses who don't give a fuck about ensuring they're using correct english grammar and this is not an isolated incident
#ada speaks#ive been playing through the series again from 0-5 and. yeesh#it goes from LIFE IS GOOD. LOC IS GOOD. to. oh.#yakuza 5's original localization is near perfect and they couldve made it better but instead#they opted for the cost cutting approach and decided NOT to retranslate and instead#just fucking. re-localized the localization and SO much is wrong. so much.#im playing simultaneously with a friend (myself on ps3 them on pc) and seeing the differences#and it happens in y3r and y4r too where#the original line is localized > the remastered line takes it and runs with it bc they have no original translation context#ie. in 3 rikiya says he likes 'wild' dancers. (re: strip club) it gets localized to be him liking 'aggressive' dancers.#in 3 remastered he says he likes AGGRESSIVE DOMINEERING WOMEN and that gets his Gears Turning#or. in 5 shinada says that uno is 'a little sad up top' re: his hair. and 5 remastered he says 'kinda mopey'#because they misunderstood the original english loc and so. completely fucked up the line to mean something else entirely#its like broken telephone#the same is SOMEHOW also happening in 8... i dont know HOW but somehow it fucking is#meanwhile im revisiting zero and going OH YEAH GOOD CHOICE. THAT MAKES SENSE. GREAT WRITING. WOW THAT'S AN A+ INTERPRETATION OF THAT LINE.#i miss the old loc team so bad. bring me back.#its mostly frustrating because i can see the shitass eng writing and still enjoy the game beneath it (unless it's not voiced.) but#i feel so bad for everyone flying blind and forced to take the loc at face value#its been like this since lost judgment but the main story was Fine (if a bit rushed) because. scott was still doing his thing#the substories in lost judgment also felt like they were of the same calibre (shit.) as remastered and. idk.#it seems like its been a shitshow at SoA behind the scenes for Years#and it shows.
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i figure they’ll drop it in a few eps like they have with everything else but it would be a little funny if after all the barchie vs varchie shit that they just made beronica endgame
#like...idt i would like it bc honestly once it became all varchie/bughead all the time the friendships really suffered#though i guess it might've been a little better in seasons 5 and 6#and i do love beronica and all it's what got me watching the show even while the internet was yelling queerbaiting#though i didn't stay loving it AS much especially as they got less interaction and i grew to love barchie more#but yeah like their relationship just became way less significant than it seemed to be at the start of the show#obvs ya know. the 50s is a brand new storyline and everything so the relationships are too#so at least they've given beronica a decent amount of focus so far#but also...people saying they're not gonna leave the 50s which is bad for many reasons#but specifically if it's gonna be the kind of thing where it's like the first six seasons didn't happen#i hate that shit soooooo much#that's what the vampire diaries books did and i was infuriated#basically what endgame did too#it's like what have i gone through this entire series for if you're just gonna be like AND NONE OF IT MATTERED#so yeah like i have been having fun with this season but i'm wary of everything#riverdale#riverdale 7x14#riverdale spoilers
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Insane to me when ppl criticize a mystery series having mysteries left “unfinished” at the end. Girl, it’s not “unfinished” it’s setting shit up for later, and, as someone joining in on a mystery series, you signed up for that being a possibility.
#aa opinions that annoy me#aa4 and dgs1 are not ‘unfinished’ they were meant to focus on a certain arc and set up things for a separate arc#aa4 just got shafted because capcom demanded an aa5 while Shu Takumi was too busy to write it but that’s not aa4s fault#and if you still feel that way about dgs1 knowing that it gets tied up it dgs2 youre insane#I can understand finding it worrying because of things that happen like the aa4 to aa5 transition#because gaming companies have ruined your trust#but to call it bad writing when you are playing a game you are well aware is part of a series#just sounds really short sighted#because the only alternative is to either simplify the story till it has lost so much that it isn’t the same anymore#or to haphazardly rush everything in one game#which would again take away a lot of other things and it would feel cheap#———#DGS 1 & 2 spoilers coming up#Like say whatever you want about the pacing of dgs1#(I loved it personally personally)#but so much of dgs2 would NOT have fucking hit the way it did without the character explorations in 1 and the time given to stew#If you think Kazuma dying in like episode 1 before we can get to know him at all#and then rushing Ryunosuke’s grief (which now surrounds a guy we arent nearly as endeared to) identity crisis and character development#through 1-2 1-3 and 1-4 so that you can get to a case 5 where ‘WHOAH that guy we dont know is back’#and then rush through the ruinion and brewing tension and explainations that were in 2-4 and 2-5 now into one case#…is somehow better than properly exploring Ryuu’s growth and the people & relationships he makes along the way#while letting Kazuma haunt the narrative for a good chunk of the games before suddenly being there again but not how we remember#than…idk what to say
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#so far in my sporadic picking away at various manga series i feel i have the weirdest reader relationships with JJBA and Attack on Titan#when reading JJBA i am not really that invested in the characters or even whats happening to them and yet i still never decide to dnf it#and i dont even know what it is that keeps me reading except that its just very unique i suppose?#such an odd combo of different things that somehow manages to eventually have its own sorta cohesive logic and charm#also the art is just fun. its ornate and goofy and macho and flamboyant and gross#but as soon as i put it down i stop thinking about it too#and dont feel like picking it up again for at least several more days#with attack on titan i found the art style mostly really bad at first ngl#it reminded me of awkward drawings a high schooler would make like the inconsistentness#of like there are good action poses here but the people also look weird ugly bland and stiff and the backgrounds are often so empty#idk i was feeling pretty blah about it but something about how starkly straight-forward the story is was interesting to me#where its literally exactly what you heard its just#theres a bunch of humanoid giants attacking our city#and we have to stop them. that's it#and also the awkwardness of the art style i find works extremely well when it comes to the titans#like they are genuinely creepy to me. and they do actually feel massive the way theyre drawn. and the mystery around them interests me too#anyways im like 60% through part 1 of jojo(also read most of part 4 a few years ago) and only on vol 3 of AoT#but yeah those are the 2 series i have the most mixed feelings about so far#wouldnt say i love or hate either of them but still also continue to want to find out more#13readsmanga#p
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I want so so badly to infodump and talk about a chorus of dragons to someone but I genuinely have no idea where I'd even fucking start (slight spoilers ahead as I muse. Though I haven’t finished book 5). do I start with book 1?? do i follow the order and be like okay so there's this guy. he's 16 and being sold into slavery, the bastard son of one of the 12 royal houses (he only just found that out) raised in a brothel. he's a thief and plays the harp real good. or do I jump the gun and introduce the worldbuilding like. and ALSO! 14000 years ago the universe died (not really I'm badly summarizing). and reincarnation is real so this 16 year old is ALSO the reincarnation of a man-made dark god of annihilation. but he doesn't know that yet. he's also got internalized homophobia. and a brother who's actually his nephew. and back to the slave thing he got bought by a cult of death worshippers. one of them is really important he's the son of death and also one of my favoritest guys in the whole world he loves to fuck. and ALSO there's this other guy, she's (she's a she/her female man) from Horse Country, and she was possessed by a demon for a while as a kid but is ALSO the reincarnation of these other important guys who freed the soul of the first guy from being trapped in that annihilation god...who he also is. AND there's these wizard scholars AND this poor overwhelmed morally conflicted healer and this undead vampire duchess and that nephew/brother and his wife (they r mlm wlw solidarity married for appearances) and this one character who unintentionally pretty much became a goddess and this mimic who is over 5000 people at once and there's these 8 guardian's who aren't gods but pretty much are and everyone's fighting and this wizard dragon is causing a whole lot of problems with his ego and--like?? i have nowhere NEAR scratched the surface of ANYTHING that happens I've probably just confused you
#a chorus of dragons#i am loving this series so so so so much#but I'm not talking about it as much as I want to 1. because I haven't finished so I'm not looking in the tags#2. because like WHERE DO I START???#there is SO MUCH that happens and like. how do I explain the experience#of contradicting information and confusion and learning the truth#there are SO MANY things I left out#i cannot succinctly summarize this series#mutuals I want to indoctrinate you to read this series SO BAD#but I don't know how!!#I don't know where to start!!
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if i write all the wanky stuff in the tags that means i am innocent if any wank ensues thereafter right?
#I didn't think i was supposed to ACTUALLY blame Loki for Frigga's death? like it obviously wasn't his fault in any deliberate way#and Mobius is a cop trying to break Loki enough to get him to help the cops to catch another Loki (oon inceptiony)#yeah Mobius SAYS it but i don't think Mobius speaks with 100% authority and accuracy u kno?#it's a deliberate cruelty to point out that Unintended Consequences happened there and i mean... it does work doesn't it?#that is the thing that breaks through to Loki and gets him to do Mobius's bidding from then on (mostly)#because Loki can of course justify all his DELIBERATE actions to himself - because he already did that at the time he did them#but 'u killed Frigga (sort of)' is a new Bad Thing and one he has no pre-prepared excuse for#basically Loki already knows all the tumblr meta that casts him as Right About Things so Mobius is never gonna win on those items alone#but then I also think Mobius was planning to just straight-up murder TVA!Loki when he'd done his part in catching The Bad Variant#and wouldn't be shocked if there were others before him who also got Mobius'd out of existence for failing or refusing to play along#how many times has Mobius done this? is there more than 'reading files' behind how easily he can see through Loki's attempted lies?#OH THAT GOT A BIT DARK DIDNT IT OH NO#(i enjoy a bit of lokius but i do wonder about the AU where they catch Sylvie and now Mobius has a spare Loki who is of no further use)#BUT I DIGRESS#yeah i didn't think i was supposed to ACTUALLY think Frigga dying can be fairly blamed on Loki#but Mobius knows that this is something Loki can't justify and it'll eat away at him and make him question the stuff he CAN justify#loki series
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Karizaki's Rebellion, The Price of Transformation
#kr revice lb#kr lb#umbrella.thoughts#umbrella.posts#i've never been more attracted to george than i am rn#anyways ikki forgot his parents and i cried#and george is trying to prove a point and i cried#hiromi and george are platonic to me#like their relationship feels so much like friends who've known each other for a while but it feels like forever#the type of relationship where you believe you know all you can about the person but they have so much more information about them branchin#off with their relationships to other people#hiromi can sense something is very off with george but can't understand it bc he couldn't understand george's relationship with his father#i think about the idea of acceptance and how it applies throughout this series as characters make mistakes and try to atone#i think about the acceptance of the past having happened and how everyone has to keep moving forward#i think about how ikki had to accept what he did to jiko and had to accept his memory loss#i think about daiji having to accept that he's done bad things but can redeem himself#i think about sakura accepting her weakness and hanna accepting responsibility and tamaki accepting that he was wrong#i think about hiromi accepting that he let his righteousness get the better of him and genta forgiving vail and accepting him#i'm thinking a lot of thoughts
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#ive been wanting to play it so i can play the q series but ive like. Only ever heard bad things about it + its 100 hours#jude talks#persona lb#honestly i just dont want it to become an aa5 thing where i play it and it ruins my life and i bitch abt it nonstop for two years#i . dont think that would Happen since p4 cant retroactively ruin p3/p5 the way aa5 ruins all the previous aa games#and that was the main thing that pissed me off abt aa5 but who knows. i have the haters temperament after all
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