#and he chooses to save the world so he can continue sharing positive emotions that come with sadness with the people he cares about

[elaryssue]

I’m about to ramble why I think Rei works better as a Bottom than Kazuki is. They might as well switch, but this post might not be going deeper on that. As well as to clarify this is from a shipper pov.

Many people dislike Bottom Rei just because He has a cold attitude and resemblances the stereotypical father figure. But also because they want to break the well-known: “shorter and slimmer grumpy guy” over-used BL troupe. I do understand that. However, at doing that, many other fall in the cliché of placing Kazuki as the bottom just because he enjoys doing activities stereotypically associated with women, such as cooking, cleaning or being fond of children. Which is, I think, a very sexist argument and I’m glad the writers are doing a great not, amazing job with this character. He is very comfortable with his colorful yet masculine style, which doesn’t only display on his outfits but also in his furniture choices (because yeah, at this point it’s canon he made almost all the decoration in Rei’s flat). But at the same time, has a feminine spot, because he literally choose almost all of Miri outfits and wow, they are very cute and stylish.

I don’t care if they themselves call him “The mom”, because is more like a joke about this specific topic, more like: “let’s make a male character that can break gender rolls without making him act or look girly, but adding many troupes that people will laugh about because they remind them a mother figure and many situations they themselves have gone through. Let’s just show the world that men doesn’t have to be pleased with helping the minimum in the house or when taking care of the children, where both parent should be doing equally.” Coming back to Rei, in my opinion him being the bottom might even deep the plot concerning his OFF and ON modes and all about the Suwa family legacy: His OFF mode represents everything his father despites and works as a antonym of the “ very masculine and elegant cold-blooded hitman”. Where being placed in a submissive position is just unacceptable for the image of Superiority and dominance a future Boss must display. I will always see the Father-son conversation in chapter 8 as subtext of a homophobic Father and his gay son. (Or at least that’s what you can see on media). All about continuing the legacy is literally Shigeki telling Rei to have blood-related children of his own with of course a high class girl that might as well be involved in their world and share their vision, like the daughter of an associated gang. Just for this old piece of sht to discover that his own blood might actually prefer other men company. Which is also implied in the scene when he talks sht about Kazuki. Just for it to be even more suspicious when Rei immediately defended him with such emotion in his voice. (he even refers Kazuki by his name). Miserably destroying his façade about hadn’t made any personal attachments. At that point it was clear to me his father didn’t bite a bit of what Rei had said.

I also hold the headcanon that Rei took after his mother, and my as well be a reason for his father being so cruel to him, especially when he was younger and the resemblance was stronger. Plus adding the fact that, even though he see many of Kazuki’s plans as dumb or stupid, he goes along with them, even when it’s obvious he could reduced him at any moment, he lets Kazuki handle him around and invade his personal space. This guy is touch-starved and enjoys being taken care of and seem pretty comfortable having someone else taking the lead, although he might first die before admitting it.

Just to finish this mess, apart from the mother – malewife jokes, there is nothing that can convince me of Kazuki being the bottom. Yeah, these are anime clichés, but even between all the broken ones, I feel the staff did saved the physixal ones (height difference, body shape), plus the fact that Kazuki is the only one to be shown interested in being in relationships where he tops (obviously with women). Or when his relationship with Rei and Miri is compared as his with Yuzuko and the unborn baby. Of course Rei was also compared with his mentor, where Kazuki might as well resembled his wife. But chapter 7 did went deeper with the comparisons.

#buddy daddies #kazurei

[whaleofatjme1920]

In a Mirror Image (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

🌸 In a Mirror Image

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: blood, language, cheating (both physical but it's not like, in your face, and emotional)]

Part 1

The flowers that grow like weeds in your lungs bloom thicker and thicker every day. Your vision clouds with blue more often than not, and you can’t think about anything but the blossoms and blood that paint the bathroom with a hue you’re already much too used to. It’s a painful existence, and it’s getting worse. One of the most wretched parts? You’re deteriorating so fast that your vision no longer services you. You are blind, unrendered to see. You still choose to live in a delusion, and you are amongst the only who choose not to acknowledge it.

By now, everyone knows but only one other than you refuses to acknowledge it.

You hear Hoodie arguing with Jack more often than not. It seems the blond haired proxy is angry over what Jack has done to you and because he knows what Hanahaki does to those it takes root in.

“You’ll fucking kill her,” Hoodie seethes as he gets in Jack’s face for the fourth time this weekend. “Look at her-”

“I am!” Jack shot back, his arms crossing defensively over his chest. “Who are you to come in here and speculate on something that you’re not a part of?” He growls. Normally, Jack likes talking to Hoodie, but not when Hoodie’s on a mission to prove Jack a sinner.

“I wasn’t even aware you still had one,” Hoodie retorts through grit teeth. “I can’t believe you. Look at the flowers Ja-” and before he can continue tearing into Jack, he hears your bedroom door open.

While you still share the room with Jack, neither of you are in it at the same time. You’ve taken residence up on the living room couch with Kate and Jack more often than not stays with Leia. The room you share is usually empty, much like your heart.

“Hey there, buttercup,” Hoodie suddenly greets you as you tiredly walk into the kitchen where the two men had previously been in a standoff. “Did you sleep okay?” He asks, voice so much softer and gentler with you than what he had just been using.

You shake your head as you take a seat at the table. “I can’t sleep,” you say.

Hoodie’s brows furrow in sympathy before they knit in frustration when Jack sits next to you. He watches as Jack snakes his arm around you before he presses an empty kiss to the side of your head.

“No?” Jack says in a sickly saccharine tone. “I’ll see what I can do about that. Does that sound good to you?”

You nod slightly, the ghost of a smile on your lips. “That sounds good,” you murmur back.

“Anything for you,” he hums as he pulls you in closer to his side.

“You disgust me,” Hoodie hisses to Jack as he gets up and pushes in his chair roughly, making the table bounce. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Jack for a second as he leaves, roughly slamming the front door behind him.

“What was that about?” You ask, feigning innocence. You refuse to open your eyes to the situation you are in.

“He’s having a bad day,” Jack answers. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he hums as he presses another kiss to the side of your head.

The butterflies in your stomach are dead, but the flowers blood evermore.

“You’re still sleeping out here?” Kate hums as she takes a seat next to you on the couch. She looks exhausted and she’s covered in blood. Her mask is cracked too.

“I guess,” you yawn as you shift slightly from your not so comfortable position. “How has your day been?” You ask as you reach for a glass of water only to see it’s not there.

“Let me,” Kate says as she gets up once more. She knows you’re getting worse. After getting you a bottle of water from the fridge, she comes back to your side. “I’ve had a busy day. Met with an independent named Nyein. They remind me of a big cat,” she finally answers as she opens the water bottle for you.

You take it and begin to slowly sip from it - it stops the flowers from blooming ever so slightly. Your airway opens just a little bit. “Do they now?”

Kate nods as she flips mindlessly through the channels. “They said they’re falling in love with a human. Bad business,” Kate winces, her dark eyes watching you carefully. “I hope they don’t…”

“It’s bad business,” you suddenly say as you feel petals fill your mouth. You cough slightly and the small little forget-me-nots fall into your lap, thankfully free of blood this time. You take one of the flowers into your fingertips and observe it gently. “I hope they’re okay.”

Kate puts her hand on your thigh, lightly squeezing before finally settling on the early evening news. “You wanna burn these blue fuckers?” She asks as the flowers in your lap remain stagnant save for the buds that unfurl at an alarmingly fast pace.

You feel the corners of your lips curl into a smile. “Yes.”

Morbid, your flowers have been springing up everywhere. They’ve infested the temporary house. So, you and Kate went around the place, plucking every single one before starting a bonfire in the backyard.

Toby, who considers himself a bit of a pyromaniac, was immediately summoned by the fire the two of you had cast in the backyard. He’d been out on a grocery run, and honestly, he had wanted to get out of the house.

The dynamics of the house had become uncomfortable to him. What with Leia and Jack sneaking off together and you coughing up a full greenhouse, he has been stressed. Toby can’t stand Jack and Hoodie arguing all the time as it reminds him of the life he tried to escape, and Masky can offer so much but ever since he renounced his love for Jay by force… It’s been hard. Toby knows it’s been hard for everyone involved.

He crosses through the house, sneers at Leia’s room, and then exits through the back to the scent of fire. He sees Kate’s arm around you as the fire blazes slightly blue.

“W-What are you g-gals up to?” He asks, coming to your other side so you remain in the middle.

“Burning stuff,” Kate nonchalantly replies. ��You care to chuck anything in?”

Toby glances at you as you struggle to keep air in your lungs. “If I d-d-did, I’d be u-under c-charge for killing a-a-another under the O-Operator’s care,” he muses. He’s referring to Jack, of course. He takes in the scent of burning plant matter and blood and frowns when he remembers it’s yours. His hand reaches yours and squeezes gently.

You squeeze back.

Your experiences with Leia are lukewarm at best, and cold at worst. She’s something, she really is something. There’s moments when no one is in the temp house with you except for her alongside you, and those moments are tense, sharp, like a knife and burn colder than the depths of the sea.

The most memorable conversation you’ve ever had was the one that triggered a domino effect that would lead to a black hole in your chest.

“You’re still up?” Leia’s honeyed voice questions softly as she takes a seat across from you on the back porch at the glass table.

You find it more stifling inside so you choose to spend your time out. The weather is warm, afterall. The sun shines and fluffy clouds the size of whales swim overhead. You have a glass of pink lemonade made from a pouch Hoodie and Kate had picked up earlier. You find that the tang is enough to keep the flowers down.

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” You say in passing before you sip from the glass. You enjoy watching the rabbits in the backyard. They hop around without a care in the world.

She begins to thread her fingers through her long silver hair, braiding it. “I just think you should be resting,” she says. “You look so tired these days-”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Touched a nerve,” she sighs. “You know you’re getting worse, right?”

You shoot her a glare, but you know she’s right. You’ve actually been holding out surprisingly longer than most people with Hanahaki Disease. Most people succumb to it within a few weeks of coughing, but you’ve managed to hold out for damn near an entire year. That’s almost unheard of. You’ve been hacking up flowers, their stems, roots and blood ever since Leia came into your life.

Everyone tells you that you’re getting worse, but you should have been dead months ago.

“Stop it,” you growl.

“You’re killing yourself,” she continues. “You could just… Let it all go, y’know?” She hums as she continues to fishtail her silver strands. “Renounce your feelings for him and save yourself.”

You grip your glass and set it back down roughly on the table. “That is literally none of your concern,” you repeat, eyes narrowing at the blue eyed beauty across from you. “Acting like you care-”

“I do, though,” she cuts you off. “I know that the Slender Man has big plans for you, but with you wasting away like this… You’ll never live long enough to see them through.” She flashes you a look of concern, but you can tell it’s fake. It shines like pyrite.

“What, so you can take my place just like that?” You bite back. “You can’t even wait until I’m fucking dead?”

Leia giggles and you hate to admit that it sounds pretty. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Daddy always did say I got what I wanted.” Her eyes drift off and you’re able to see she’s no longer thinking about you, but someone who once loved her. She finishes the braid. “Happy six years to you and Jack. Give him all my regards, won’t you?” She stands up, eyes the rabbits feasting on the clover in the grass, before she plucks your half empty glass from in front of you.

“Leia-!”

“It’s not like you need it,” she chuckles.

“It’s a special day,” you said to Masky, a small smile on your face. “It’s our six year anniversary.” Your posture changes to attention as he closes the door softly behind him. He still smells like cigarettes, but it’s a pleasant scent you’ve found comfort in where others find it a nuisance.

Masky put a smile on his face but it didn't reach his eyes. “You need me to draw a portal or something for you?” He holds his arms open to you as you fall into them, part because you’re so weak and secondly because he knows you need the affection - even if he can’t feel it.

You feel light come to your eyes as you nod after leaving a note for Jack in your shared room on his nightstand.

‘Dear Jack, happy six years! I’d wait for you to get back, but I have a surprise for you at the field you gifted to me for our first anniversary. I await you with happiness. Love, R.’

Masky drew the portal in the living room, a mess of swirling cloud-like silvers and blacks before he laid eyes upon the place you once shared only with Jack. “It’s super pretty,” he says, dark eyes scanning over all the wildflowers. There’s weeds on the path, like no one has cared for it in a while. ‘How poetic,’ he thinks. ‘It’s an allegory for your decayed relationship with Jack.’

“No it’s not,” you giggle as you bring Masky down one of the weed and chicory covered paths to the gazebo. “But it’s special to me,” you hum as you take a seat.

Masky follows beside you. He doesn’t take a seat, mostly feeling it wrong to impose on a space that is Jack’s despite his respect for him falling so far from what it used to be, but takes in the scent of dying flowers all the same. It’s summer, and instead of the sun warming the soft petals, it’s burning them. When you cough up more flowers while waiting for the man who still holds your heart (and refuses to return it) you’re less than pleased to see that they blend in with the untamed mosaic.

“Are you still tired?” Masky asks softly as he lights up a cigarette. “You can rest, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

You glance over to Masky before you rest your head in your hands, wondering where your lover is. You listen to the wind as it blows through the leaves. You listen to Masky’s hum, and eventually, you fall asleep.

You wake back up sometime during the night in your bed and not in a position you normally sleep in. It looks like whoever delivered you back here was extra careful with handling you. You only wake up because Jack has accidentally turned on the light.

“Shit, my bad,” he apologizes, quickly plunging the room back into darkness. “Did I wake you?” He knows he did.

“No,” you lie. “I couldn’t sleep anyways.” That was the most rest you’ve had in months. “Where have you been?” You ask quietly, still choosing to remain buried in the sheets.

Jack slides into bed next to you and gets comfortable. He smells like perfume you don’t wear. Through the faint light of the hallway that peeks under your door, you can see he’s got dark marks on his neck and jaw. “Leia wanted to show me her childhood home. Place isn’t run by Zalgo anymore, so we took a trip out there.”

“Did you now?” You hum as you feel tears prick your eyes.

Jack can see you in the dark. His vision at night far surpasses a human’s. He just chooses not to acknowledge it. Jack knows that his relationship with you is gone, and that you’ve been coughing up flowers for the past year. He knows, and it hurts him. Hurts him deeply that he’s the one causing you such pain, but at the same time, he’s a coward. He chooses not to let you go cleanly because his relationship with Leia is so finite.

He knows she only wants him because at the time he was unattainable. Now that she has him, it is only a matter of time until she does to him what he’s done to you. He understands that fully, but he refuses to leave the safety net that is you because he is selfish. His feelings for you aren’t nonexistent, but it’s that kind of fondness one has after the deed has been done, a love based on past memory and sentiment rather than what will and can be. It has reached his threshold, and you both are too caught up in security rather than what is healthy.

“I did,” he says as his mind rushes a mile a minute. “What did you do today?”

You wonder if you should answer that honestly or not. Would he even care? “I stayed here today, nothing special.” You feel the flowers unfurling in your lungs.

Jack hums once more, his back now facing you as he slowly succumbs to sleep.

You met Masky in the bathroom again, hacking your lungs and more of those fucking flowers up into the bathrub and the sink. Hell, you even got some in the toilet. Your body is growing weaker and weaker by the day. The fact you’ve held out for a year is astronomical, but you know you’ll be being taken from it eventually. No one survives Hanahaki when their lover’s feelings aren’t returned. It either gets returned, or you lose them all entirely.

He almost lost you. You broke the mirror when your body went limp as the vines and flowers crawled out from your lungs, through your esophagus and out of your mouth. If it was an art installation piece, Masky might’ve thought it beautiful, but the fact you went cold and limp and the flowers were blooming at a rapid pace - one he thought he couldn’t keep up with.

Masky, despite not being able to really feel anything, panicked as he took you into his arms. Did he genuinely care for you? No, but he cared to whatever extent the surgery left him with. He fretted because you are under his direct care. He cared so deeply because he too had seen many good proxies and independents lost to it. He cared because a part of him remembered what it was like to have daisies and rhododendrons fill his lungs. Normally, you only have one type of flower to clutter your lungs. Science says “just because.” An old wives’ tale says “love truly lost.” In his case? Jay’s death. Nothing was the same after that.

Masky took no hesitation in scooping you up into his arms and running out of the house to the forest to be closer to his boss’s energy. The Operator could fix this should he will it. He didn’t care that the lights in the house went on from his concerned proxies - the ones who had been sick over what befell you since you came into their care. He didn’t dare let you go as he trampled through the brush in the dead of night, using only the moon.

“Sir!” He calls out frantically. “Sir! I need your help!” He can hear your heart get slower and slower.

And just like that, the devoted father came to his child’s cry.

“My child,” he greets, instantly swooping down to look at your pained, flowery visage. “Did I not tell you to handle this?” He chides softly as he takes you into his arms. The sound of static only grows louder and louder.

“I thought she could,” he says, his tone clearly apologetic. “Please, just… Just fix this for me.” He watches the Operator closely as the tall man holds you in his arms.

While you are not exactly his child directly, you are also still under his care. Leia did not lie that the Operator sees good things for you. Without any other words, the tall man is gone, giving you to gods know who to perform a surgery that should be considered the only humane way out.

He returns to the house where Hoodie, Kate and Toby eagerly awaited him, clamoring around him and pecking like hens wondering where you are. He says that you’re in the hands of a god.

You floated in the ether, your body a galaxy. You watched as your chest was torn open - looked like by the hands of an independent that had talons to rival an eagle.

‘There’s so much,’ she says, her mouth turning into a frown as she worked on carefully removing the clusters of flowers. ‘How is she not dead?’

The Slender Man continues to observe, not offering the doctor any words.

The spirals and swirls inside of you continue to swirl before the flowers get torn out, one by one. The roots that cling to your lungs are stubborn, but with every single one removed, the lights of a different universe go out. Snuffed. Lost. The cavity in your chest grows wider until it births a black hole.

‘How much longer?’ The Slender Man asks, watching as the independent calls in another to help her rid your body of weeds.

She shakes her head as she continues to root them out. They bloom under her touch. ‘I have no idea - she must’ve felt so strongly-’

‘They just keep coming up, Sir,’ the other interjects, her four eyes scanning you rapidly.

The black hole begins to suck up the stars and nebulas that comprise your system. It feasts on you, making every part of what made you you, disappear in its depths. It grows larger as it consumes you. It grows heavier. It grows more powerful.

‘We’re almost there,’ the taloned independent says, her wings fluttering softly to emphasize her point. ‘I’ve never seen it this bad before.’

‘Fix this,’ the Slender Man seethes, his patience wearing thin. He knows your body will not be able to handle this much longer.

The black hole reaches its mass, and slowly, it begins to consume you. It overtakes you, bathes you, and leaves nothing left when it has taken all that it can. Your body is empty. You are a shell. Glimpses of blue, grey and reddish brown flash in your mind’s eye and through the eye of the black hole, but you cannot place the feelings you used to associate with them. You remember, but you do not feel.

The last of the flowers are pulled. The taloned independent is exhausted, and her partner is just as tired. ‘Good fucking lord,’ she breathes out, exhausted from the late night gardening session. ‘In all my years I have never seen that awful disease take hold of an individual that bad,’ she notes. Her bird-like eyes watch over your open chest to make sure they’ve fully cleared it out.

A single forget-me-not sprouts, and the Slender Man is the one who plucks it. Just like that, the flowers, their roots, all evidence you’d ever had life inside of you, is gone. Withered and wilted away.

The black hole takes all that you have to offer, and you are back to consciousness, no longer floating, no longer a home to the vibrancy of the universe.

What came after was a bit of a blur. The Slender Man had brought you back to the safe house you had called your home for the past year surprised to see that some of his favored children were still away, waiting for you as the light of the sun rose over the grass. It was a new dawn.

“How is she?” Hoodie asked, immediately springing up.

“Fixed,” was all the Slender Man said, his gaze shifting from you to your group’s leader. “Masky, I’m entrusting you to watch over her as you have been through something similar.”

“Of course,” the dark eyed man says as he takes you gingerly into his arms. “I wouldn’t trust her with anyone else.”

“One last thing,” the tall man in a suit hums. “I am taking Eyeless Jack from this house. Leia will stay with him.”

“It’s probably for the best. We trust your judgment,” Masky replies.

The Slender Man’s head gently cups Masky’s cheek before he leaves them with the sound of static that dissipates as fast as it appeared.

You spent the first few days after your surgery under bed rest. The Slender Man had healed you but he still worried for the state of your lungs. You needed the rest, and you were pleased to have it. Other than that, you felt… nothing. You were numb. Fleeting feelings of happiness or thankfulness, maybe something melancholic would slip through but ultimately, you were nowhere near your old self.

Jack was not allowed anywhere near you. That was one of the first instructions given to him when the Slender Man had popped into his head. While he did not have an opinion on Jack’s unfaithful behavior, he was more displeased with the fact he’d kickstarted the disease in you. The Slender Man thought that if he started it in Leia, then perhaps everything would turn out alright.

So, he sent the two out with a different group - which mostly meant Jeff, someone the Slender Man knew detested behavior that Jack had committed.

It was not easy for Jack to share the same space with Jeff after word had gotten out about you.

“You’re my best friend,” Jeff had sighed one late afternoon, refusing to even acknowledge Leia in the room. “But that? That was fucked up.”

Jack hummed and kept his gaze on Leia, who looked at him with nothing short of adoration. “Sure.”

Jeff sighed once more and stood up. “You don’t feel an inch bad, do you?”

“No.”

“You’re a shitty guy but you’re an even shittier liar.” Jeff broke the door with how hard he’d slammed it on his way out.

Jack really wasn’t the same, that much was apparent. He’d slowly been becoming more withdrawn and quicker to agitation. Of course, he’d take it out on whoever was around to deal with it. Leia included - it just came in a different form. One in which she’d never complained. But when things were rough between them, things were rough.

Jeff could hardly stand the two most days, so when he’d sneak out, it was with his dog to come pay a visit with you. And he hated how dull you had become.

“Masky used to be a lot more personable,” Jeff would say. “Life of the party when we could get him out of his pseudo-philosophical bullshit. Then he hurled flowers and we knew something was wrong.” Jeff’s hand rubs your back gently as a sign of friendship.

“And then?”

“Then he got that stupid surgery and now he’s just existing. No further purpose, just existing because some pale guy says so for his benefit.” Jeff huffed and looked up at the setting sun.

You found your gaze following his.

“What you’re doing right now,” he began. “It’s no way to live.”

“Would you have rather I’d succumbed to it?” You asked, not adding any inflection to whether you’re happy or sad, hurt or even offended.

“In all honesty?” Jeff tore his eyes from the pink and blue sky. “Yeah. This,” he gestured to you. “This isn’t you.”

Everything you’re supposed to feel feels dampened. Instead, you nodded. “Note taken.”

Jeff frowned.

The first time Jack was able to see you after your surgery was nearing halfway to what would have been seven months. It’d been a rough time without him seeing you, mostly because the guilt had been devouring every humanity he had left. Nothing could fill the void.

Like the first time you had met him, it was an accident when you crossed paths once again. You had been clearing out a house one fine winter’s evening, doing what had been asked of you before you got the faintest scent of something familiar and something you once recognized as comforting. You furrow your brows, weapon at your hip as you slowly and quietly come down the stairs.

Your lips are pressed into a thin line as you peer into the living room. Snow falls outside the window.

“Reader?” A male voice asks, turning around from the hallway. “Is that you?”

You tilt your head slightly as you register the mask you’re looking at. Eyeless Jack, mostly just known as ‘EJ’ or ‘Jack’. You’ve never really spent any time with him though outside of little jobs, so you have no idea who this is or why he sounds so happy to see you.

“Uh, hi, EJ?” You say as you walk at a leisurely pace down the stairs.

Jack freezes momentarily as he comes to greet you in the living room. He’d almost forgotten that when the flowers are removed, so too are the memories alongside feelings.”It’s… It’s good to see you,” he says as he looks down at you, wondering if he should touch you or not.

“I guess it’s nice to see you too,” you say. “What are you doing in this area?” You inquire. You vaguely remember the Slender Man not wanting you two to be in the same area.

“Just out and about,” he answers as he scratches at the back of his neck. “Leia wanted to uh, hunt down some of her sisters - I - it doesn’t matter,” he suddenly finishes, feeling much too awkward to even look at you. He knows you don’t remember, but he certainly does. Looking at you… He has a fresh slate.

“That’s nice,” you say in a tone that’s clearly disinterested. You walk towards the living room windows and look into what is now a cold winter’s night. You can see the snow still falling. If you want to make it back to Masky before he gets worried, you’ll need to head out almost immediately. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

Jack slowly comes to your side and puts his attention on you, watching as the snow continues to fall. “Yeah, the prettiest,” he says softly, desperately trying in vain to hold back on scooping you into his arms. There’s something scratching at the back of his throat.

You nod once again and zip up your coat. “They’re expecting me,” you say, gearing up to brave the snow.

“Do you need any-”

“No,” you cut him off. You’re not sure why it comes out so harshly, but you figure it must be a remnant of a memory you no longer have access to. “I can manage on my own.” You brush past him and open the front door, eyes momentarily clamping shut at how cold it is before you step onto the porch. The sound of the crunching snow is satisfying.

“Stay safe out there,” Jack says softly, not moving from his place as he continues to gaze out the window at the falling snow.

You turn your head briefly over your shoulder, “and you as well.”

Jack hears the door close and you walk off into the night, back to a group he was barred from. That tickling in the back of his throat grows more and more prevalent until he clears his throat. Feels like there’s something on his tongue. He coughs a few more times before holding his hands in front of his mouth, displeased to see the small blue petals he knows will bloom to full flowers in a time frame that is too long to be considered fair.

#eyeless jack #xreader #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack x reader #creepypasta #hanahaki #angst #masky #hoodie #brian thomas #tim wright #kate the chaser #reader insert #slender man

[amistytown]

Power Over Me (Leviathan x GN!MC)

Leviathan x GN!MC as Lord of Shadow and Henry; MC is referred to as Henry but remains gender-neutral. I enjoy the TSL lore in Obey Me and wanted to write a bit for it. I initially had an alternate ending in mind, but I decided to save it for another idea I might write at some point. Tried to keep Levi in character while giving him and the story a slightly different feel since it takes place in a fantasy world. Also listened to Power Over Me by Dermot Kennedy on repeat while I wrote this so chose to title it accordingly. Hopefully, it turned out all right. Trigger warning for mentions of blood and self-deprecating thoughts. Mostly some angst with fluff. As always, sorry for the typos that I may have missed, and thank you to everyone who takes the time to read. I appreciate it!

Lightning illuminates the throne room, the Lord of Shadow watching the rain batter the windows, gaze sullen. A storm rages outside, mirroring the flood of emotion bursting forth to drown him in misery. Though he can only hold himself accountable, allowing his envy to fester and take possession of his heart in a moment of weakness. He regrets the letters he frantically wrote in his jealously, the heated words exchanged between you, and your pain forever engrained into the parchment, the ink smudged by your tears, which now lay in pieces at his feet. He considered to make the journey to you, begging for your forgiveness, but he knows he’s undeserving. Instead, he mourns the loss of your friendship, the loneliness left in its wake burning him from the inside out as he cries into his hands, his tortured sobs lost to the thunder roaring above.

The doors swing open, light spilling in from the hall. He recoils at the intrusion, anger welling and threatening to spill over, his patience worn thin. A growl dies in his throat, eyes widening at the vision before him, so beautiful and precious his entire being aches with longing. Slowly, he takes in the sight of you, engraving every detail into his memory. Your windswept hair and the raindrops trickling down your face, clinging to your lashes and following the curve of your lips as you smile sweetly at him, staggering into his arms.

“Henry,” he whispers into the nape of your neck, daring to embrace you and revel in the feel of your body against his; your skin cool and soft, and your scent rich, intoxicating him. He’s certain he’s not worthy of your compassion, yet he can’t bear to turn you away, selfishly clinging to you and delighting in the fact you lean into him, your arms winding around his waist to pull him closer. My Henry, he thinks, tightening his grip, afraid he’ll lose you again if he’s not careful. “I’m sorry. I’m so so—”

You grow limp, legs buckling under your weight.

Fear engulfs him, heart lurching as he supports you, catching your hand in his. “Henry?” he whimpers, noticing how your chest heaves with each breath, and the way your brows knit in discomfort, a low groan slipping past clenched teeth. “Henry! What’s wrong? Tell me, please.”

“I ran into a bit of trouble on the way here,” you manage, laughing pitifully. “I didn’t realize . . .” Your fingers fumble to unclasp your cloak, and he swallows thickly at way lay beneath. Blood soaks your blouse—a sickening shade of red—the fabric sticking to your back.

“You didn’t realize?” he cries, incredulous. “Henry—”

“I just wanted to see you.” Your voice wavers, head lolling to the side. He calls to you, shaking you by the shoulders, desperate to keep you beside him. However, your eyes close, grief overtaking him when they don’t reopen.

“You’ll be okay,” he reassures, robes billowing around his ankles as he rushes down the corridor, gently cradling you to him. Guilt plagues him, reminding him how pathetic he is, especially for hurting you and putting your life at risk; how could he act so recklessly. You’re the light to his darkness, breathing life into his world, and he can’t accept losing you—his happiness—your love dispelling the shadows that once consumed him. He never knew a truer friend, and he’s positive there’s no one else who could play such an important role—you’re irreplaceable. There’s plenty of time to atone for his sins, tonight he needs to make sure you live to see the morning.

“I’ll take care of you, Henry. I promise.”

Time comes to an agonizing standstill.

The Lord of Shadow remains at your side, hoping and praying you don’t succumb to your wounds. He watches you closely, frequently checking your pulse and finding comfort in the steady beat of your heart while you sleep, looking deceivingly peaceful in his bed. His focus is on you, never straying from his true friend’s wellbeing despite his inner turmoil, which threatens to tear him apart at the seams. You keep him together, and again he’s at your mercy, owing you his life for all you’ve given him—his hero—his Henry. He hurt you, but you came to him and offered him forgiveness, willing to sacrifice yourself to save your friendship. How can you care about him with such ferocity, a brooding reclusive lord who’s unworthy of his title? No matter the days spent apart, you return to him, accepting him into your life without hesitance, and he can’t help welcoming you back with open arms.

“I’m so sorry,” he mutters. “I’m terrible. A worthless—”

“You’re not.”

For an excruciating second, he wonders if he imagined the glorious sound of your voice, and an anguished sob escapes him, tears clouding his vision. You stare up at him, eyes heavy with sleep, and a lazy smile on your lips. He’s dreaming, he reasons, shaking his head in disbelief. Then your hand is in his, familiar and warm; he shivers at your touch.

Gasping, he pulls away. “Y-you . . .”

“Forgive me,” you say, so understanding—so sweet—your kindness unfathomable. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“N-no,” he stammers, head spinning. “I’m sorry.” Tentatively, he reaches for your hand, fingers quivering as he entwines them with yours. “I’m sorry.” His tears come faster and harder, shamefully hot on his cheeks. He’s unable to articulate how sorry he is or how his very soul painfully throbs at the thought of hurting you—losing you—wishing he could turn back the clock. “For everything.”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay,” you soothe. “I’m sorry, too.” Sitting upright, the blanket bunches at your waist, and he can see where the bandages peek out from beneath your shirt, the skin bruised, making him wince. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I’m the reason you’re hurt,” he chokes out, averting his gaze. “It’s the least I can do.”

“It’s not your fault.”

You’re wrong, he wants to say; however, he refrains.

“I don’t blame you,” you continue. “Look at me, please?”

He shouldn’t. Surely, he looks foolish, a mere hostage to his emotions. Nevertheless, he spares you a glance, wondering why you regard him so kindly—lovingly even—causing his heart to flutter.

“It’s not your fault.”

Not his fault? His mind tells him differently; it’s a sea of dread and uncertainty that washes over him in waves, dragging him under. The sincerity of your words is difficult to ignore, and, in that instance, he decides to trust you, finally breaking the surface. “Henry,” he murmurs, hugging you to him, arms wrapping around you protectively as if to shield you from the world. His tears wet your hair, body trembling, and you hold him, letting him come undone in your embrace.

“I wanted to see you,” you say, setting him alight. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering on your own.”

“Henry—”

“I know you’re struggling. It’s okay. I’m here.” You rub his back, resting your head on his chest. “I’ll always come when you call.”

“You’re the truest of friends, Henry. I fear I’m not worthy . . .”

“Of course, you are. I’ve never known a truer friend than you, my lord.”

“I can’t help worrying someone will steal you away. It’s selfish of me, I know. Though I feel so inferior in comparison. Sometimes I think you’re better off without me.” When he learned you met with the Lord of Corruption, his insecurities grew, fanning the flames of his envy. Why choose him over his brother? The Lord of Corruption could provide you with more than he can give. The rest of his brothers, too; they could care for you—protect you—unlike him. You’re here with him though, leaving his brother behind at a moment’s notice, and you did come when he called, eager to please. He wants to return the sentiment. “I can’t articulate how important you are to me. I . . . you’re so special, Henry.”

“No. No one compares to you.” Your praise captivates him. “All I ask is for you to trust me. Talk to me so I can help you. I accept you, all of you, and that’s not going to change. I love you as you are.”

“Love me?” he breathes.

“Yes, I love you.”

A simple but genuine vow of love. He stills, terrified he’ll faint in your arms as he hides his face, heart racing. The cynical part of him says it’s too good to be true, but he knows better—he knows you. He’s envisioned this moment, and it’s far sweeter than his fantasies, your love a beautiful feeling that sweeps him off his feet.

“Have you slept?”

He sighs, mouth unbearably dry. “No.”

“Come to bed. You should rest.”

“Henry! W-with you?”

“You say that as if it’s the first time we’ve shared a bed,” you tease.

“You’ll be the death of me.” Although he complains, the bed dips beneath his weight as he settles beside you, reaching for your hand. “Is this, okay?”

“It is.” Shifting onto your side, your hand tightens around his, a flicker of pain twisting your features.

He tenses, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“I’m all right. Better, thanks to you.”

He can see the exhaustion in your eyes, the dark circles beneath them, and the stiffness of your movements, betraying the smile you wear for him.

“Who hurt you?” he asks.

“No one you need to worry about. Not now.”

Unsurprising. You’re his Henry, besting him and his brothers on multiple occasions; anyone who chose to challenge you is a fool. Yet, your blood flowing freely, covering his hands—the ungodly stench—stayed with him. He clearly recalls your lifeless body, and how the color drained from your face, the heaviness of his heart breaking when he believed he lost you twice in one day. You looked so fragile then and do now, trusting him at your most vulnerable. Hatred for the one who dared to harm you runs deep and for himself for not protecting the one he loves.

“I thought I lost you,” he admits, inhaling sharply. “I-I . . .”

“You didn’t. You won’t.” You catch his tears as they fall. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you, too.” His declaration is quick and clumsy but true; he’s loved you for so long.

Caging you in his arms, he hovers over you, peering down at you shyly. His body shakes with every beat of his heart, ears ringing, but he admires you, gaze affectionate and a light blush dusting your cheeks. He’s scared. He’s scared of losing you most of all, trying to muster half the courage he knows you possess. “I love you, Henry,” he says softly, clutching your hand, his lifeline. Closing the distance between you, he catches your lips in a tender kiss, the magnificence of it sending a rush of blood to his head. He forgets how to breathe, dizzy on the taste of your love, and collapses next to you, questioning if he died and ascended to the heavens. With you by his side the future is much brighter, and, for once, he looks forward to what it brings.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me leviathan #obey me mc #obey me reader #leviathan x mc #leviathan x reader #my writing

[wickwrites]

Wonder Egg Priority Episode 4: Boys’ and Girls’ Suicides Do Mean Different Things (But Not in the Way the Mannequins Want You to Think!)

So, let’s talk about this for a second. After I got over my initial knee-jerk reaction, I realized I wasn’t sure how to make sense of exactly what the mannequins were arguing for here. So let me rephrase their statements to make the argumentative structure more explicit: Because men are goal-oriented and women are not, because women are emotion-oriented and men are not, and because women are impulsive and easily influenced by others’ voices and men are not, boys’ and girls’ suicides mean different things – girls are more easily “tempted” by death, and therefore, more likely to require saving when they inevitably regret their suicide. While Wonder Egg Priority, so far, seems to agree with the vague version of the mannequins’ conclusion, namely that boys’ and girl’s suicides mean different things, it refutes the gender-essentialist logic through which that conclusion was derived.

The mannequins choose a decidedly gender essentialist approach in explaining the difference between girls’ and boy’s suicides; they argue that the suicides are different because of some immutable characteristic of their mental hard wiring (in this case, impulsivity, emotionality, and influenceability). Obviously, this is a load of bull, and Wonder Egg Priority knows it. The mannequins are not exactly characters we’re supposed to trust, seeing that they’re running a business that is literally based on letting these kids put themselves in mortal danger. As faceless adult men, they parrot and possibly represent the systems that force these girls to continue to be subjected to physical and emotional trauma (it’s probably more complicated than this, but four episodes in, it’s hard to say more). So, we’re probably supposed to take what they say with great skepticism. Also, the director, Shin Wakabayashi, has recently said that in response to these lines, Neiru was originally going to object, “When it comes to their brains, boys and girls are also the same,” (which unfortunately is not exactly true and is somewhat of an oversimplification, but the sentiment is there). While that line ultimately did not make it in, Neiru does reply with a confused and somewhat indignant, “What?!”, a reaction that gets the message across.  Neiru is not a fan of gender essentialism, and as a (more) sympathetic character, we’re supposed to agree with her.

That is, the differences between boys and girls is not something inherent to their biology or character, but something constructed by culture and experience. This rejection of gender-essentialism is apparent in Wonder Egg Priority’s narrative, which takes a more sociocultural perspective on the difference between boys’ and girls’ suicides. It says, well of course boys’ and and girl’s suicides don’t mean the same thing, that’s the whole reason why we’re delving into the experiences specific to being a girl (cis or trans) or AFAB in this world – to show you how girls’ suicides are influenced by systems of oppression perpetuated by those in power (ie. the adult, in this specific anime).

And all the suicides we’ve seen up until now tie into that somehow. For instance, Koito is bullied by her female classmates who think that Sawaki is giving her special treatment. This is a narrative that comes up over and over again, in real life as well: that if a young girl is being given attention from an older man, then it’s her fault – that she must want it, or at least enjoy it somehow, and that it signifies a virtue (eg. maturity or beauty) on her part. And if Koito is actually being given such treatment by Sawaki, an adult man in a position of power over her, that is incredibly predatory. 

And we all know that child sexual abuse is something that overwhelmingly affects girls, with one out of nine experiencing it before the age of 18, as opposed to one out of 53 boys (Finkelhor et al., 2014). Regardless of whether Sawaki was actually abusing Koito or if the students only thought that he was, Koito’s trauma is ultimately the result of this romanticized “love between a young girl and adult man, but not because the man is predatory, but because the girl has some enviable virtue that makes her desirable” narrative. Similarly, in episode 2, Minami’s suicide is driven by ideas related to discipline and body image in sports, which while not necessarily specific to female and AFAB athletes, is framed in an AFAB-specific way. For instance, take the pressure on Minami to “maintain her figure”. Certainly, male athletes also face a similar pressure, but we know that AFAB and (cis and trans) female bodies are subject to closer scrutiny and criticism. We know that young girls are more likely to suffer from eating disorders. And Wonder Egg Priority situates Minami’s experience as decidedly “about” AFAB experience when her coach accuses her change of figure due to her period as a character failing on her part.

 Likewise, episode 3 delves into suicides related to “stan” culture, this fervent dedication to celebrities that is overwhelmingly associated to teenage girls. And Miwa’s story, in episode 4, explicitly shows how society responds to sexual assault. When Miwa does have the courage to speak up about her assault, she’s instantly reprimanded by basically everyone around her. Her father is fired because her abuser was an executive of his company. Her mother asks her why she couldn’t just bear with it, telling her that her abuser chose her because she was cute, as if that’s supposed to make her feel better about it. Wonder Egg Priority shows that this sort of abuse is a systemic problem, a set of rules and norms deeply engrained in a society and upheld by all adults, regardless of gender, social status, or closeness (to the victim). Wonder Egg Priority says that, yes, girls’ and boys’ suicides have different meanings, but it’s not due to some inherent difference between the two, but the hostile environment in which these girls grow up. Girls are not more easily “tempted” by death, they just have more societal bullshit to deal with.

But Wonder Egg Priority goes further than just showcasing how girls’ (and AFAB) experiences are shaped by sociocultural factors. The story also disproves the supposedly dichotomous characteristics that the mannequins use to differentiate girls and boys (i.e. influenceability/independence, impulsivity/deliberation, emotion-orientation/goal-orientation). If the mannequins are indeed correct, and that girls are just influenceable, impulsive, and emotional, you’d expect the girls in the story to be to be like such too. Except, they aren’t. Rather, they’re a mix of both/all characteristics. This show says that, certainly, girls can be suggestible, but they’re also capable of thinking for themselves. For instance, when Momoe asserts her own identity as a girl at the end of episode four, she rejects the words of those around her who insisted that she isn’t a girl. If she were as suggestible as the mannequins believe her to be, that would never have happened – she would have just continued believing that she wasn’t girl “enough”. But, she doesn’t because she is equally capable of making her own judgements. Likewise, Wonder Egg Priority shows that girls can be impulsive, but they can also be deliberate and pre-mediating. When Miwa tricks her Wonder Killer into groping her to create an opening for Momoe to defeat it, she’s not doing it out of impulse – it’s a pre-mediated and deliberate choice unto a goal. And Wonder Egg Priority continues, girls can be equally emotion oriented and goal oriented. Sure, the main girls are fighting because they have the goal of bringing their loved ones back to life, but those goals are motivated by a large range of emotions, from guilt to anger, grief, compassion, and love. 

Being emotion-driven doesn’t mean you’re not goal-driven, and vice versa. In fact, in this case, being emotional drives these girls toward their goals. In other words, none of these traits that the mannequins listed are either “girl traits” or “boy traits”. Being one does not mean you can’t be the other, even if they seem dichotomous at first. Wonder Egg Priority’s diverse cast of multi-dimensional female characters allows it to undermine the mannequins’ conceptualization of gendered roles, refuting the idea that these (or any) character traits should be consider gendered at all.

As an underdeveloped side thought, I think Wonder Egg Priority’s blurring of gendered roles is also well-reflected in its style. There’s been a lot of talk about whether Wonder Egg Priority constitutes a magical girl series, and I think that’s an interesting question deserving of its own essay. Certainly, it does follow the basic formula of the magical girl story: a teenage heroine ensemble wielding magical weapons saves the day. But it also throws out a lot of the conventions you’d expect of a magical girl story – both aesthetically and narratively. Aesthetically, it’s probably missing the component that most would consider the thing that makes an anime a magical girl anime: the full body transformation sequence, complete with the sparkles and the costume and all that. Narratively, the girls are also not really magical girl protagonist material – they’ve got a fair share of flaws, have done some pretty awful things (looking at Kawai in particular; I still love you though), and aren’t exactly the endlessly self-sacrificing heroines you’d expect from a typical magical girl story. On the other hand, the anime also borrows a lot from shonen battle anime. We get these dynamic, well choreographed action sequences full of horror and gore, the focus on the importance of camaraderie between allies (or “nakama”, as shonen anime would call it) exemplified through all the bonding between the main girls during their downtime, and in the necessary co-operation to bring down the Wonder Killers. That said, this anime is not a shonen; the characters, types of conflicts, and themes are quite different from those that you’d find in a typical shonen. The bleeding together of the shonen genre and the magical girl genre, at the very least (and I say this because I think it does way more than just that), reflects Wonder Egg Priority’s interest in rebelling against conventional narratives about girlhood and gender.

#wonder egg priority #wonder egg priority analysis #wep #w.writing #my writing #anime analysis #analysis #anime #w.analysis

[cuddlesslut]

Part FOUR : Chance Encounters

Atsumu x fem reader, Suna x fem reader, Hinata x fem reader

Tags: slight NSFW, Heavy Angst.

A/N: so this will NOT be the last chapter there will be more. Just like there are more choices now lol, don’t be shy to tell me who you route for. Also let me know if y’all want more NSFW I’m chill with writing it . ALSO slight canon divergence the timing on when Hinata comes back from Brazil is different, obviously in the Manga he’s only gone for two years. In this story it is longer. Hinata isn’t on MSBY yet. Also we are only caught up on 5 months since the dreaded birthday.

Part Three: Memories

Part Five: Friends

You spent your birthday in some hotel room. Sitting on the plush bed still in your dress not bothering to change your curl in to a fetal position as sobs raked through you. Your whole world crashed down on you everything you knew was a lie. Your phone lit up with one last birthday message from some distant relative. You see the time it’s now one in the morning you’ve been laying here for hours you can’t understand how you have any liquid in your body left to cry but still tears trail down your cheeks as you look at your lock screen. It’s a photo from three Christmas’s ago. Atsumu held you close from behind as you pose in front of a festive Christmas tree. Your eyes are shut tight from laughter as the setter places a kiss to your cheek bone, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. This was your favorite photo of the two of you, it always showed the realness in this candid shot. You remember laughing so hard from some cheesy joke he had just whispered in your ear. Your heart twists at the photo, a moment of anger slices through you. Was any of it real? You fling your phone at the wall effectively shattering the screen. You scream into the pillow. You wish you could feel numb to all of the emotions. But no ones that lucky. You aren’t sure when you feel asleep but you wake to find the remnants of tears stuck to your face. You move to the bathroom. You look like death. Your face is pale and eyes swollen and red. Your body aches from the fitful sleep you had. You grab a quick shower before putting on your comfiest pajamas and lay back down. All the energy is drained you look for your phone before remembering your fit of rage last night groan. You switch on the TV for some form of distraction but the gods must really hate you as it opens to a sports channel and you see him in all of his intensity standing on the volleyball court. Part of your brain pleads to change the channel but you must be a masochist as you watch him in all his usual glory. He commands the stadium as he goes up to serve. He looks perfectly fine like you hadn’t just walked out of his life. Like he hadn’t just ripped your world to shreds. You're finally turning the television off sitting in the silence thinking of the memories of your home. You ordered some takeout trying to settle the ache in your stomach. The food tasted bland, everything has lost its edge. The bed offers no comfort. The sunlight offers no warmth. It’s not long before you fall into another depression nap.

Waking up late in the evening you can’t stop your mind from making a stupid decision. But you miss him. You just want to see him. That’s how you end up outside of the door that leads to the home you shared with him. Trying to work up the courage to enter. His car was in his usual spot so you know he's here. A bitter thought run through you at the thought that while you were here he couldn’t be bothered to be home before two am at the earliest, yet the first night gone and here he is at home at ten o’clock. Silently you open the door. It was a mistake. You don’t make it even completely through the threshold before you hear the obnoxious moan and grunts, the sound of skin slapping. It makes you sick “OH Miya-San!” You hear some woman bellow out. You feel nauseous. You hurry out the door trying you best not to cause any noise to interrupt the activities in the house. You bend over you feel as though you’ll throw up right there on the spot. After calming yourself you make a way to a convenience store picking up a bottle of wine before heading back to you hotel room. There’s no way you’ll make it through the night sober.

The next morning you clean your self up before heading to the bank and clear out your joint account. Normally you’d feel bad taking the money but this cash was saved for your wedding and that would never happen now. You stopped by the phone store getting your own account not wanting anymore strings attached to the player. You spend the rest of your morning looking for a small affordable apartment. Luckily you were able to find one with in distance of your school and a reasonable price. It’s now the afternoon and you have to rush not wanting to be late for your class. Although it probably wouldn’t have made a difference if you had missed today, you barely pay attention. You find yourself back with the hotel walls.

You feel completely and utterly alone. You want nothing more to call your best friend or stop by Samu’s shop and cry on his shoulder while you eat some comfort food. But there is hesitation Suna was Atsumu's friend before he was yours, and you'll probably break down in tears just looking at Osamu he was his damn twin for heavens sake. What were you to them you wonder. You only got close to them because of the setter. Part of you wanted to believe that they cared about you and all of those friendships would still be there but you couldn’t. How could they want you around. You really question your place in their lives. It’s hard to trust in anything you had also believed Atsumu loved you and would never hurt you, yet that much was proven untrue. It's hard to trust in anything you feel or know. Another reason is your afraid of all of the memories you shared with them Atsumu ever present in those moments. You don’t want to think about him any more. You don’t want any remnants of that man In your life. While you want to believe Suna would be there for you, that he’d choose you. It was not a risk you were ready to take. You don’t think you could survive another heartbreak. It’s better to leave things as is, to cherish the good memories and not risk tainting them with pain.

It’s been two months since your birthday. You’ve moved into a quaint apartment. You got a job working at a little cafe to pay for rent. Between work and studying for your degree you try to keep yourself busy. It’s hard being on your own. You try to distract yourself with the things that brought you joy. Some days are better than others but all in all everything still hurts. Graduation is only a couple of months away so at least there’s something to look forward too. There are moments that come quite often that you miss your friends but you can’t bring yourself to reach out still untrusting. You look back sometimes and wonder where the lies stopped. You avoid everything that has to do his Atsumu Miya. Even the sight of a simple volleyball brings distress.

Three and half months later the cosmos played another prank on you. It was just another Friday afternoon and you were working in the cafe. You had just helped a young beautiful woman at the counter. She seemed so familiar but you couldn’t quit place it. You could see a puzzled look on her face. Then it hit you. You knew exactly who this woman was. She was the one with your ex fiancé at the restaurant that fateful night. The realization must have struck her too. Her eyes grew wide with worry. Although you weren’t expecting what she did next.

“I AM SO SORRY,” she basically yelling as she bows in front of you. “ I’m so sorry for the part I played in your pain.” She continues. You can tell she is really distressed. You coworkers and a few costumers look at the spectacle. Hating all of the attention now directed toward the both, you beg her to please stand.

“I need you to understand I had no idea, I would never have gone for a taken man.”

You sighed and sent a look to your coworker that you were going to take a quick break. “Would you like a cup of coffee,” you ask her. You never thought That you’d be sitting having coffee with the mistress of the only man you ever loved yet here you are. There’s an awkward silence for a moment. You don’t rush things you can see she’s also having a hard time trying to figure out where to start. You take a sip of your coffee as she finally speaks.

“My names Yuki,” she states.

“YN ,” you offer back.

“Well, umm YN I just want to say I am so sorry for wh-” you cut her off holding up your hand.

“You said you didn’t know, correct?” You send a glance at her raising your eyebrow. She nods.

“Are you still with him?” She sits up straight.

“Absolutely not,” she states with conviction “after you left I asked him what just happed and he explained who you were and I left.. well not with out dumping my drink in face" she gave a little giggle.

“Ha! Oh I wish I could have seen that,” you laughed picturing him drenched in the restaurant. “In that case you have nothing to apologize for, you are a victim of Atsumu’s selfishness as well. I’m sorry he put you through that.” She gave a sad smile you could see she was hurt too. The two of you spent a few more moments in each other’s comfort discussing the facts of his affair. It hurts to know that he had a legitimate relationship with Yuki but a part of you was glad to know. It was a small piece of closure to know how deep his transgressions ran, knowing it wasn’t just sex hurt even more. But it furthered your stance that he didn’t love you and if he had at one point the love had faded on his part some time ago. You spent the rest of your shift plagued with thoughts of you past.

After your shift you went home to change before heading out to your local bar. In your time alone you had taken solace in drinking with strangers. After dressing in an appealing yet comfortable outfit you headed out. You wanted to feel comfy and relaxed but that didn’t stop you from wanting to look nice. In your past visits it wasn’t uncommon for men to try and talk you up and while you did indulge in the compliments none had succeeded in getting you to return home with them. There had yet to be a guy who fully kept your attention away from your former lover.

You found your favorite spot at the bar, just far enough from the blaring music and smokers. You smiled at the bartender before ordering your usual. You sat there letting the liquor relax you as you listened to what music the DJ was playing tonight. Normally you stick to just drinks but after the day you had you need something to take the edge off. After downing a shot of tequila you notice a presence next to you.

“Is this seat taken,” the man smiled at you. You had never seen him here before and you know damn well you would have noticed him before. Although he wasn’t a giant like most of the men you knew in your life, he wasn’t excessively short either you could tell he’d still stand taller than you. You couldn’t lie the man was extremely defined and muscular, you swear his tanned thighs that you saw peeking from under his khaki shorts were bigger than your face. His skin was tanned you can tell from pleanty of time in the sun. He had strong jaw line but his most prominent feature was this bright mop of orange hair he tried to hide under a ball cap. He had a bright smile that reached his alluring brown eyes. It was safe to say he was very handsome. He tilts his head to the side a little smirk reaching his lips. It then you realized you had never responded and just been sitting here gawking.

“Um no it’s not uhh go ahead,” you stammered out feeling a blush creep on to your cheeks at your response. What is this feeling why are you acting like a school girl.

He takes the seat next to you ordering a beer then turning to you reaching out his hand. “ Shoyo Hinata,” he states.

You accept his hand giving it a light shake. “ YN LN,” you responded. “ I’ve never seen you here before Hinata-San,” you prod wanting to know about the stranger.

“Just Shoyo is fine,”he gives you another dazzling smile. “I actually just moved back to Japan,” he states “this is my first time at this bar , but with customers as beautiful as you I’ll definitely have to come more often.” Ohh hes smooth you think. You let out a light chuckle at his compliment although it’s fairly simple compared to some of lines you’ve heard it definitely has the desired affect on you.

“Well then Shoyo where are you traveling from?” Question not wanting the convo to stop.

“I just got back from Brazil,” he mused that signature smile never far from his face.

“Wow Brazil! That’s so far was it hard to be so far from home?”you questioned.

The conversation with Hinata flowed effortlessly. Pleanty of laughes shared as he told you countless stories of his time in South America. Being in conversation with him is like talking to the sun it’s so bright and happy. He does eventually mention playing beach volleyball and for a moment you mind thinks of your ex but it then you realized it was the first time since Sho made his appearance that you had thought of the setter. It felt nice to finally have your mind clearing from the twin. As of recent at any mention of volleyball you would have ended the convo making an excuse to leave, yet you didn’t want to, plus beach volleyball is completely different than regular volleyball you reason.

Time passes by as well do several drinks. You are by no means drunk just a little tipsy. Over the course of your talking the space between Hinata started to narrow. Right now you were so close you could smell his cologne and the slight minty scent of his breath. His hand caressed your elbow. Your breath hitched when he finally leaned in “do wanna get out of here?,” you can see his iris’s darken ever so slightly. “We can go back to my place,” he continued.

Several thoughts ran threw your mind in that moment. One, you were nervous, you hadnt been with anyone other than Atsumu. Two, you were sure you weren’t ready for a relationship but it was just sex it’s not like he’s asking on a romantic vacation. And three you wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against yours. “Absolutely.”

That’s how you got to where you are now. You barely made it through the threshold before Hinata had you pinned to the door. You were locked in a searing kiss. It was like he was stealing the air from your lungs. His hands roamed your figure before slipping under your blouse. “You are absolutely gorgeous,” he breaths before pressing a kiss under your jaw trailing down you neck. You place you hands on his shoulders trying to ground yourself. You let out a loud moan as he gives a bite to your shoulder while grabbing a hand full of you breast. He smiled into you neck with pleasure from the sounds you made. The two of you stumbled a bit as you started making your way to his room shedding clothes left and right. The door closed to the bedroom and you were ready for a mindblowing night.

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[bbygirljuvi]

Gruvia Week Day 6 - Agony

Author’s note: l know it’s very late but hope you enjoy ^^ /// hurt-comfort

Summary: This takes place in a “possible” or more likely “alternative” future where Juvia and some of the other members joined Team Natsu in Elentir, and White Priestess needs a stone formed by Selen’s magic’s remnants in order to stop Elentir from exploading.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“YOU ARE NOT GOING.”

Whole guild stopped and turned their head to the entrance, where annoyed Juvia stormed in followed by raging Gray.

“DO YOU HEAR ME. JUVIA. YOU ARE NOT GOING.”

Water mage suddenly came closer to him and speaked in a composed voice:

“Do you have a better idea then, Gray-sama?” This shut his mouth for a second.

“No” he said, greeting his teeth. “But sacrificing yourself is not an option too”

“IT IS AN ACCEPTABLE RISK” she brust out with frustration. Guild shooked by another shock wave. Had Juvia Lockser yelled at her beloved Gray-sama??

Gray could have been shocked too if he wasn’t in total rage. How could she even thought about doing this to herself! What’s worse was that he knew Juvia enough to know there was no turning back when those determination sparkes settled in her eyes.

Erza was the first one pulled herself together. She separated water and ice mages whos was looking at each other in a silent war. It was so weird seeing them like that..

“What’s going on?” Erza asked in a commending way.

“Juvia found a way in,” she started excitedly but continued more irritated “and made the mistake sharing her plan with Gray-sama first, thinking he would be supportive-“

“It’s a suicIDE MISSION” Erza warned him with a look but she had a bad feeling about this. There were a few things that could piss Gray off this much.

“Juvia realised there is an underground riverhead near here which rises to the surface around Black Moon Mountain and goes beyond it’s foot!! Juvia can sneak in using her water body, get stone samples and sneak out just as she get in!” She dropped the bomb which caused different reactions from her friends.

Natsu cheered happily “That’s perfect Juvia!” while Levy whined “Juvia!!?” in terror. Erza was rubbing her forehead, evaluating the idea. Lucy and Wendy were looking hesitant while Gajeel was shaking his had in approvement. Erza started:

“ I don’t know Juvia...There is so many things could go wrong? Sending you there alone is just...” Her words calmed the ice mage who was about to rail Natsu. His lips curled up a bit. He turned to Juvia, opened his mouth to say ‘see?’ when Erza continued:

“But I can’t think of any other way.”

“WHAT? YOU’RE APPROVING THIS?”

“Gray-sama Selene don’t know what stones can do. There won’t be any protection around the area. Riverside is maximum one minute away from magic remanence. And this is a take and run mission, Juvia can always run back if somethings go wrong-“

“You. Can’t. Know. That! We have absolutely no idea what Selene knows nor don’t. You can’t know if there is an extra protection. You can’t know her or her minions suddenly won’t feel like using the area. What if they catch you? You’ll be alone in there Juvia! We won’t be there in time if something goes wrong-“

“Gray you’re speculating-“ Erza started but he cut her short angrily

“These are not speculation, possibilities!”

“Gray she is very well capable of doing this. None of us wants to send her alone but this is our best shot.” Lucy explained in a considerate voice.

“And Juvia always had been good at sneaking. Phantom used her as a spy a lot of time.” Gajeel commented in a similar voice. Which somehow drove ice mage even more crazy.

“ I know she’s strong and capable but I also know she’s not immortal like she likes to think!”

This caused an awkward silence because everyone was aware he wasn’t entirely wrong. It was a dangerous mission with a high potential of disaster.

“What are you suggesting than Gray-sama. Should we let a dimension of people die just because it was a little dangerous for Juvia?”

“No.. but we can find another way-“

“But we couldn’t and time is ticking.” He kept his silent while examining everyone.

Lucy, Wendy and Levy were still hesitant yet accepted the situation. Natsu was confused. Gajeel was giving approval. Erza had warmed up to the idea. And lastly, Juvia was heartbroken yet determined.

His heart tightened. He knew she would do it anyway, even the whole guild would be against it. Anger he’s been desperately holding on since she told him about her plan was fading. Giving it’s crown to the actual emotion, fear. His eyes started to burn.

“Are you going to go?” He asked,

trying to keep his voice calm and straight.

“Yes”

“Fine.” he said taking a few steps back. “If you want to kill yourself, do it. But I won’t stay here and watch it.” Then he left as fast as he came.

With his exit everybody took a deep breath. Juvia felt her eyes getting filled with tears. It was their first fight. She knew his actions were fueled by worry yet this knowledge didn’t ease the pain in her heart. Erza pulled her into a hug, mumbled:

“ You know he acted like this because he cares about you a lot, right?” while caressing her hair.

“Juvia knows but it doesn’t make it any easier..” She left Erza’s arm with a last squeeze and dried corner of her eyes. She didn’t want to cry this time.

Natsu was still looking where Gray left. He was very confused. “What’s wrong with ice princess? It wasn’t like him at all.” he verbalised his confusion.

Lucy felt her eyes twitched in annoyance. “Of course It’s too much for you to understand” she grumbled as she walked to Erza and Juvia. Left even more confused Natsu behind her.

“He is not entirely wrong tho Juvia.” she sat down in front of her. “You have no obligation to put yourself in such danger.”

Juvia shook her head. “I’m doing it of my free will. Let’s stop talking about weather should i do it or not and start talking about how to do it.”

After that they made backup plans for every bad scenario they could think of. Which was a lot since Levy was a doomsayer. They thought about what tools she should took along, when she should leave, how long she should stay inside and other details until dinner time.

As they went onto the details it got more believable that this misson was doable. So at dinner everybody was in better mood, they were still worried, of course, but relaxed enough to laugh a bit.

As time went on and her leaving time, which was a little after it got dark,came closer; Erza hesitantly asked:

“Ehem Juvia.. are you sure you’re okey leaving without saying goodbye to Gray? We can found him if you want-“ She shook her head rapidly.

“If his stubbornness is more important than farewelling Juvia, there’s nothing to say.” She said determinedly. But couldn’t hide the pain crossed her heart. She hoped he would come. She thought he would come.

“And it’s almost time to go too, Juvia should get ready.” She got up with a determined smile. Looked around the trusting faces she called family and continued with a even brighter smile. “See you later, everyone.”

This time, it was Lucy who pulled her into a hug. Followed by Erza whom followed by Gajeel whom followed by Levy and a moment later whole guild was touching their one and only water mage, cheering and exchanging assuring words.

She exited from the hall followed by echoes of her friends voices. Her smile faded as she got closer to the bigger building they used as an inn. Fully aware that she would spend her remaining time suppressing her disappointment. Thinking about how stupid her ice mage is on a dangerous mission wasn’t a good idea.

That’s why she felt suprised, angry and euphoric at the same time when she saw him sitting on the floor, in front of her door. His eyes were covered by his hair. He was playing with his finger like he always did when he’s nervous. She slowly took last two ledder while her lip curled up.

When she stood in front of him, for a second he ignored her. Continued playing with his fingers as he looked down. Then slowly hugged her legs. Hid his head from her sight and mumbled:

“I’m sorry, I overreacted.” His voice was hoarse like he’d been cried a lot. “ It’s just.. I-I might not..” he squeezed her legs harder, instead of finishing his sentence. Juvia lifted his chin despite his resistance and looked into his eyes. They were red and swelled, confirming her suspicion. He’d been cried. A wave of affection passed through her veins.

He saved himself from her grip with a blush and burried his face to her legs once again. Her hands went straight to his hair, carresed it with compassion.

“You might not what?” her voice came out more eager than she intended.

“I might not be over the Invel incident...”

No shit, she thought as she kept her silence for him to say more. But mentally she was literally jumping. They were finally having this much needed conversation.

“It’s just.. I hold you in my arms as your heart slowed with every beat Juvia... There were blood everywhere a..and I was leaning on you, to feel your breaths but I...I couldn’t-“ he stoped once again when his voice broke. They stayed in that position one or two minute. He slowly continued. whispering this time:

“I saw the world without you, Juvia. And I can’t afford living in it. I can’t”

She slied into his arms and sat down on his lap, pulled his head to her breast as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Gray-sama do you remember, while we were fighting against eclipse dragons, we had a vision that Gray-sama was...gone.”

He lifted his head just for a second. “I do..”

“Well, Juvia does too. She had many sleepless night over that. Waiting him return from missions were literally torture. She even pucked out of anxiety once when he was late. She wanted him to choose safer jobs, no, she wanted to lock him in case.

“She blamed herself a lot too. For being so weak, so careless..” Gray lifted his head again, to object this time but she stopped him.

“Then one day, you stepped on Natsu-san’s scarf while he was hiding under the table to prank Lucy and didn’t get up for a while.” She chuckled to annoyed growlings he made. His nose had broken that night.

“And at that moment she realised she couldn’t destroy every hidden scarfs standing his way. So instead of waiting some bad thing to happen her beloved Gray-sama and missing her chance at the process; she decided to enjoy every moment they had together until separation was inevitable. And hope that day won’t come for a long long time.”

He was looking her with a complex expression. A small smiled formed on his lips a moment later. Now it was his turn to pull her into his chest. “ I can try that” he said softly. Then his expression hardened a bit.

“But you still have to promise me you will drop the mission if some out of plan situation occurs.”

“She promise she will be reasonable.” He sighed and said

“Fair enough. And I will break into if you won’t return till sunrise.”

“Juvia will definitely return then.” She looked outside “To be able to keep her promise she needs to get ready now” His lips curled down immediately. Like a kid whose candy has taken away from him.

She pinched his cheeks near his pouty lips with a reassuring smile before going into her room.

Approximately 10 minutes later she came out wearing tights, small backpack and one of his shirt she owned while they were living together. That cheered him up a bit. She offered her hand to him:

“Let’s go down to others.” He hold her hand but stayed still instead of gettting up.

“I don’t want them to see me like this,” showed his eyes “Would it be okey if we say goodbye here?”

She kneeled in front of him and hugged him tightly, whispered:

“See you later, Gray-sama.” And pulled back quickly, feeling his intention of keeping her in there another half an hour.

She was just about to get up when she felt his grip on her armed, followed by a sudden kiss on her cheek.

“Good luck kiss,” He said while his grin got bigger as her flushing got deeper. “Now go!”

He ambivalently watched his girl left for an extremly dangerous mission; stumbling and smiling like a silly.

#gruvia #gruvia week #gruvia fanfiction #gruvia drabble #bbygirljuvi writing

[ruiyuki]

"Vanitas": The Name and Legacy

Vanitas declares early on that his motive for using the Book of Vanitas to save vampires of the Red Moon is to take "revenge against the Vampire of the Blue Moon". But some of his actions, reactions and expressions seem to contradict a conventional interpretation of "revenge". Seeing how MochiJun is a master of conveying things through facial expressions, nondescript panels, and double meanings, here's my stab at trying to figure out a bit of Vanitas' complexity and his (??hidden??) motives.

⚠️⚠️⚠️ MANGA SPOILERS, obv ⚠️⚠️⚠️

Also this analysis is really long. ‼Continuation in reblogs.‼

For the sake of minimizing confusion I'm going to refer to our!Vanitas as "Vani", Vampire of the Blue Moon (VotBM) as "Luna", and the name "Vanitas"/"Vanitas of the Blue Moon" as a title in this analysis.

0. "Revenge" against the VotBM

Now, what kicked me into this train of thought initially was watching the scene where Vani announces his revenge plot to all during the Bal Masque. Ofc Bones is doing quite a good job with the anime (I can honestly forgive them for leaving out some scenes knowing budget constraints and that this was probably produced during COVID; it's just more reason to get viewers to read the manga) but there are still some subtle nuances that MochiJun puts in her work that don't get translated into the adaptation. So I revisited Memoire 7 and something just didn't sit right upon looking at that scene retrospectively – which I'll get to that in a bit – but first let me recap what is my interpretation of Vani's proclamation:

The origin story we were told at the start of the series illustrates that vampires are typically born under the Red Moon, except for the one born under the Blue Moon. VotBM, given the moniker "Vanitas of the Blue Moon" by others at the time, is said to have created the Book of Vanitas capable of manipulating the World Formulas in order to curse all the RM vampires that casted them out of vampire society. Cursing the RM vampires = turning them into curse-bearers inflicted with malnomen.

Vani's "revenge" against the VotBM is to use their name "Vanitas" and the Book to cure all RM vampires of their curses and malnomen. In that sense, Vani saving the vampires is directly opposing the vow to curse all RM vampires as told in the VotBM origin story.

Vani's revenge claim seems pretty straight forward. There is nothing of the sort as to claiming he will turn the vampires into humans, or rewrite their existence into something they are not, etc. It is literally just "I will heal you from your sickness out of spite towards the thing that wants you to suffer". His feral revenge proclamation on top of the chandelier lines up with his feral "I will save you no matter what, using whatever method I choose" at the end of Memoire 1 as Noé points out:

So here's the thing that felt a little out of place upon my rereading of Memoire 7:

This panel. Idk about you but as a long time reader of Pandora Hearts, imo one thing that makes MochiJun such a talented artist and great storyteller of plot twists and angst is how she depicts emotions in facial expressions – it is very subtle with a certain finesse. With the above panel, Vani's expression doesn't necessarily look like "anger" or "vengeance" to me. Rather (and it took me a while to place it actually, flipping back and forth between newer and older chapters) his expression looks... melancholic? Melancholy with sense of conviction.

It's noteworthy that MochiJun has made an intentional choice to emphasize Vani gripping his closed fist and his distant stare here, so it has to be important. So, what could Vani be thinking of in this moment? And why?

I. Vani's hidden expressions and feelings towards Luna

To (attempt to) figure out what might be going through Vani's mind in this moment, let's take a look at some moments we've seen Vani making different expressions and when he's thinking back to the VotBM – or really, his time with Luna. Vani claims he hates vampires, but there are obvious exceptions (Jeanne, Noé). What's interesting though is that, despite claiming to hate the VotBM, I don't think he hates Luna. He may hate the being that Luna is but I don't think he hates Luna as a person.

We can see the difference between his hatred and active desire to kill Moreau, as well as his completely blank, no-remorse kinda expression toward the Chasseur's cross in the Catacombes arc vs the above panel after his revenge proclamation:

Also contrast the above chandelier expression to Vani's empty look of distain in Dante's flashback when they first meet:

I would say none of these Vani expressions look very similar to the chandelier one — the empty or blank stares are missing a sense of resolve and the teeth-gritting smirk lacks any bit of sadness felt in the scene. Now, when do we ever see Vani make another expression of what I would call melancholy?

Ughghgh these panels break my heart every time bc there is such a sense of sadness, it's distant but palpable and it is t r a g i c... but I digress.

We have no way of knowing what Vani is thinking in these panels but I have a few ideas:

Vani thinks back to something Luna said about how one should use the Book of Vanitas when Noé says using the Book's power to cure curse-bearers is "overwhelmingly right". What Luna said? Who knows, but it may be along the same lines of "despite its power" and "doing the right thing".

Vani realizes the reason Misha wants Noé to drink his blood is bc Misha doesn't remember what happened That Day. He repeats "... I see." twice as if he's reaffirming to himself that he's the only one left that remembers what happened. If Misha did remember, there would be another person to share the memory but Misha doesn't and Vani is alone in the world in that sense.

If we are to assume that this is what's going through Vani's mind in these moments, then we have to ask why? Vani thinking back to his time with Misha and Luna elicits this sadness (possibly likely?) bc Vani did truly enjoy his time with them and didn't actually hate Luna. In his own flashbacks of Luna teaching he and Misha about malnomen (first being Malnomen Prèdateur in the Catacombes arc, second of Chloé's Malnomen Millie) and the flashback of "love" during the Gevaudan Arc, we see that Vani may be grumpy or indifferent while being with Luna, but he is still attentively listening and comfortable enough around them for them to hug him:

Ofc, we can't forget that Vani, in his fever and poison-induced delirium, even mumbles to himself ".. didn't actually hate... I didn't... Lou..—" while recovering in the cabin with Jeanne. Given that just before this he asks "Is that what you really want? Truly?" in response to Jeanne saying "This time for sure, I'll kill the beast", perhaps we can even posit that Vani didn't actually hate Luna and didn't actually want to kill them? (I have another theory on what could have happened on That Day but let's get through this one first *wheeze*).

So let's summarize:

Vani claims he will cure RM vampires of their malnomen as revenge toward the VotBM, who is said to have created the Book of Vanitas to curse RM vampires that made them an outcast.

Curing RM vampires of malnomen = revenge since it is directly opposing using the Book to inflict curses

But Vani shows a look of sadness mixed with conviction that contradicts what would be thought of when claiming "revenge", which could possibly be him thinking back to his time with Luna, whom he did not actually hate and possibly did not want to kill but had to anyway.

So here's my theory: the reason why Vani has assumed the name "Vanitas" and is on a quest to cure RM vampires of their malnomen with the Book of Vanitas is to "rewrite" the reputation behind the name Vanitas of the Blue Moon.

... And I will continue explaining this in the reblogs ⤵️⤵️⤵️ bc holy fuck this meta is so long I have reached the image limit per post asjfklgs

#vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #vnc meta #vnc theory #vnc manga #vnc spoilers #vanitas of the blue moon #pls read the continuation before rb #long post #like i mean REALLY long post #w h e e z e

[7-wonders]

Hardships Unnumbered

Summary: The quest to save Julia begins, but not everything is as it seems in this mystical land.

Word Count: 1969

A/N: Hi friends! This is the second chapter of my Labyrinth King!Michael AU fic, "It's Only Forever." I'll link the first chapter down below. I hope that you enjoy and, as always, likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.

(also there's a couple of little easter eggs/one big one and I'm really excited to see who figures them out)

Chapter One

Though you put your hands out in front of you to brace yourself, it doesn’t help you to discern which way is up and which way is down until you finally stop rolling. With a groan, you shove yourself up to your feet. Your palms are scraped and slightly bleeding, your jeans are torn at the knees, and leaves and twigs now adorn your hair. All in all, this is not the way you had hoped to start this mission to get Julia back.

Now that you’re already at the bottom of the hill, it’s easier to decide how to start this jaunt through the Labyrinth. After all, you certainly can’t go back up, and the solid ground beneath your feet only leads one way. The shining spires of Michael's castle at the center of the maze, closer than you had thought, rise high above you and act as a compass. All factors considered, you can definitely run this in a couple of hours. Then, once you’re both safely out of here, your first order of business is to call the cops.

Your confidence begins to fade the longer that you walk along with the wall separating you from the inside of the maze. There’s no door, or arch, or opening anywhere to be seen. Turning around, you look back to see if you’ve missed the entrance. Instead of finding one, movement catches your eye. A man, tall and willowy, cries out victoriously at something trapped under his foot. He seems to be your best bet, and you decide to approach him.

“Excuse me?” you say.

The man startles, obviously not expecting to see anybody here. “Oh!” he cries in surprise, looking at you as if you’re the first person to ever cross his path. His hair is bleached to look almost white, and he has a pair of oddly-shaped sunglasses with purple lenses covering his eyes. The checkered jumpsuit, complete with ruffles on the shoulders, both does and doesn’t go with the sunglasses. You’re not quite sure why the people that live here dress so funny, but it’s making you feel underdressed.

“Which way do I go to get into the Labyrinth?”

“Now, why would I tell you that?”

“Because you must have come from there,” you pause, looking down at the man’s foot when you hear a squeaking, “oh! Is that a fairy?”

“Mhm.” Your childlike wonder is abruptly swept out from under you when he kicks the small, blue creature into the forest.

“Why did you do that? That wasn’t very nice!”

“Go ahead and pick one up,” the man says, “you’ll see how nice they are when you’re missing a finger.” As if to prove his point, a fairy flies up to you and hisses in your face, showing off two rows of razor sharp teeth. “What is it that you wanted, again?”

You huff. “To know which way to go to get into the Labyrinth.”

“Did you try asking it?”

“I’m sorry, what?” You roll your eyes in disbelief before mocking him. “‘Labyrinth, please let me in!’ Is that what I should say?”

He doesn’t have to respond, for a sudden rumbling has you turning around. To your shock, there’s suddenly an open space in the wall that hadn’t been there just a second ago.

“You’re joking.”

“No, I’m Gallant.” You want to tell him that you weren’t guessing his name, you don’t even want to know his name, but he continues. “Who are you?”

“(Y/N).”

“Ah, that’s right.” So this is one of Michael’s ‘subjects?’ After all, if your dreams have been right (and you’re still half-convinced this is just the elaborate scheme of some unhinged weirdo and not magic, despite what you just saw), then that means that Michael is also the ruler of the Underworld. With that logic, Gallant must be some sort of a demon. If that’s the case, you certainly don’t want anything to do with him.

“Well,” you say awkwardly, “I’m going to go now. Running on limited time, and all that.”

“You’re just going to go in there? Alone?”

“Yep.”

“But--but the Labyrinth leads to the Labyrinth King!”

“That’s kind of the whole reason why I’m here.”

“You’re going to get hurt in there.” Gallant gasps. “You could even die in there!”

You set your shoulders, walking to the hole in the wall and glancing back. “I won’t, but thanks for the concern.”

“Wait!” Even if you did want to listen to what he had to say, you couldn’t, for the wall closes back up on itself the moment you step through it. Mildly jarred though you may be, there’s not much you can do to change this, so you turn around and try to figure out whether to go right or left. Both directions look exactly the same, so with the flip of a mental coin, you go right.

After both walking and jogging for what must have been over a mile, you’re no closer to any sort of landmark that would tell you where you are or how close you are to the castle. There haven’t even been any corners to turn past, just one long, unending aisle. You’re starting to feel a little claustrophobic as you finally come to a stop, needing to take a break for a minute. Sinking down against the wall into a sitting position, you find yourself looking back and forth down the path. Both directions look exactly the same, for as far as you can see. You groan dejectedly and put your head in your hands, allowing yourself a moment of pity before getting up and trying again.

“Hey there!”

You jump at the sudden Southern-sounding voice. “Who’s there?”

“Me, of course!”

Looking around, you see a small door just to your left, and a small woman, probably less than a foot tall, standing next to you. Her curly blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail, showing off her pointy ears. “And you’re...talking to me?”

“There’s nobody else around, is there?” The woman glances inside the open door. “‘Cept the missus, of course.”

Another woman, also blonde, pokes her head outside and smiles up at you. “Hello!”

“Why don’t ya come inside for a while? ‘Delia makes a killer gumbo.”

“Uh...no thanks. I’m just taking a break for a moment before I find a way to the castle.”

The woman’s face turns severe, and she holds her shawl tighter around herself. “You must be awfully brave if you’re so determined to go up there.”

Brave? You wouldn’t call yourself brave. Stupid, maybe, for bowing to the whims of the guy who’s kidnapped your charge, but not brave.

“But anyways, just go through the wall across from us and you’ll be on your way.”

You look in front of you to see the solid wall. “Through there?”

She nods.

Logic is telling you that this is obviously false, but, considering the same thing happened with Gallant, it can’t hurt to try. Standing up, you cautiously put your hand up to the wall, expecting to meet, well, a wall. Instead, you almost fall through a doorway that leads to another passage in the Labyrinth. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“You will be if you keep going.”

You choose to ignore this, at this point knowing that everybody who lives here is terrified of their ruler. “Thanks for the help.”

The elf stares at your back as you walk through the new corridor, figure becoming smaller and smaller. “If she would have stuck around, I would have been able to get her on the right track back home, not towards that horrible man.”

From inside the house, a timer beeps. “Misty, supper’s ready!”

///

In the stone chamber of the King of the Underworld’s throne room, a three year old girl is currently winning a staring contest against a demon. Michael watches as the demon’s eyes begin to water (with blood, of course), before he eventually gives in and blinks. The little girl cheers before looking at Michael.

“My daddy’s gonna kick your butt, you know. He saved mama from aliens once.”

“Silence, child,” Michael commands, but he can’t help the twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. It’s difficult to hide his amusement when this child is the most lively thing to grace his castle since...well, he can’t quite remember since when.

Being surrounded by demons of all shapes and sizes, with a variety of horns or extra eyes or tails, gets old after a while. Demons, quite frankly, are a bore. All they want to do is scare people and cause mayhem, yet continue to use the same methods that have been in place for thousands of years. If Michael’s being honest with himself, everything’s a bore to him here. In the early years, this job had been quite fun. Lots of naive humans to terrify and endless souls to torture.

Michael himself had been prone to naivety, then. It was easy to deal with the buffoons that called themselves demons when it seemed that, soon enough, he would find somebody to share this burden with him. After all, it was the guy upstairs who believed that emotions were for the humans. Michael, however, found it to be one of the most carnal pleasures. To love, and to be loved, seemed like the greatest sin. As the years passed, and the whole routine of ruling the Underworld became stale, Michael began to embrace the feelings of dejection, while simultaneously dreading the thought of an eternity alone.

That’s why, no matter the outcome of tonight, Michael would at least have something to add a little color to his black-and-white world. At the very least, the child would provide much-needed entertainment in the Underworld. She seems quite creative, which could potentially lend itself to some new and innovative torture methods. But, that would almost be a non-starter, considering the whole reason that she’s here, the whole reason Michael implemented this plan in the first place, is to get to you.

You, who managed to somehow win over demons disguised as beggars that loitered outside of the bookstore you worked for. You, who was constantly coming up with your own ideas for stories, creating and erasing entire worlds within your mind (a power far more powerful than any regular magic, Michael believes). You, who had somehow managed to vex and enchant him, without ever having spoken a word to him. He had seen you on one of his visits up Above, talking to a beggar demon as if they were your equal, offering food and shelter to their grotesque form. From then on, he knew that he had to have you, and from that, a plan was born. The Labyrinth, which he had subtly placed in every single one of your dreams for months now, was impossible to run through. You would inevitably lose. And when that happens, he’s prepared to accept your frantic offer where you exchange yourself for the child. He is, after all, a benevolent ruler.

“Mr. Michael?” Julia questions, breaking Michael out of his pondering.

Michael hums, deciding that he won’t lecture her on the importance of referring to rulers by their titles. “Yes, little one?”

“Do you have juice here? ‘M thirsty.”

“Abaddon!” Michael calls, the demon appearing in a puff of smoke. “Get our guest some refreshments.”

The demon turns to do Michael’s bidding, shocked when Julia grabs their clawed hand and skips along with them. “I really like your spiky horns,” she says.

Michael looks up at the clock on the wall, noting that only nine hours remain for you to reach the center of the Labyrinth and rescue the child. Perfect. He’s not one to get too cocky (yes he is), but these are odds he’s willing to take.

//

Tag List (send me a message if you want to be on this!): @sojournmichael @dark-mei-rose @blakescoven @xavierplympton @michaellangdon @trelaney @ajokeformur-ray @babyloutattoo89 @bloodcoatedeclipse @threeminutesoflife @annikathebananana @wth-trippy @thatonehumanbeing05 @dumybitch

#labyrinth au #labyrinth imagine #labyrinth fanfiction #michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon imagines #american horror story #american horror story apocalypse #american horror story imagine #ahs #ahs imagine #duncan shepherd

[tomorrow-and-tomorrows]

Gojou, education, and the question that started it all:

“What should we do with him?”

It’s easy to take this moment for granted, but it’s a remarkable teacher-student dynamic indicating how Gojou strives to offer his students an environment in which they can express their own opinions and values, rather than demanding them to sacrifice their individual conscience to serve a pre-determined set of rules.

Megumi had saved Yuji in the spur of the moment by pushing him out of the way of the cursed spirit, but there’s also the follow up to this when Megumi tells Gojou he doesn’t want Yuji to be executed. In this latter instance, Megumi is able to take part in saving Yuji a second time because his teacher encourages and allows for this formative moment to happen.

Once again, education and the environment cultivated by adults sets the background for the devlopment of each new generation.

When Gojou was a student, he was given the command to “escort and erase” Amanai, a mere child, for the greater good. As a student, Gojou did not experience an environment in which an educator thought to ask the younger generation, ‘what do you think is the right thing to do in this situation?’. What the authorities demanded of Gojou and Geto was to sacrifice their conscience in service of the prevailing system. As a teacher, Gojou’s philosophy directly pushes back against this.

When confronted with Sukuna’s vessel, at first Gojou ostensibly frames this as a pop quiz to review what jujutsu regulations call for in this situation.

But the questions he actually keeps open for Megumi are: what do you think we should do? What are the principles by which you want to live your life? What are the risks you are willing to take when deciding who to save? These are the formative questions that resonate throughout all the rest of Megumi’s ongoing character arc and development. These dilemmas did not arise in a vacuum: they were allowed to be developed, rather than suppressed, in an educational context.

In discovering Sukuna’s vessel, the significance of this situation as a historical moment cannot be understated: it’s a once-in-a-million chance vessel for the most powerful curse in history. Ordinarily, no adult would seriously invite a first-year student to contribute any input at all. However, this is exactly what Gojou does: he doesn’t disregard or belittle Megumi as inconsequential.

I think this is because Gojou understands the element of human relationships. He perceives how Yuji is not just “Sukuna’s vessel”, he’s a person who fought alongside Megumi and with whom Megumi now has a relationship and emotional connection to. That is why Gojou, having known what kind of personality Megumi’s had since he was a child, recognizes that Megumi is personally invested in Yuji’s fate.

He acknowledges Megumi as someone who should be given the chance to continue learning what it means to make decisions in accordance with his values. Gojou doesn’t tell Megumi what is the right or wrong decision, but gives him the opportunity to form his own judgment.

This is consistent with how Gojou let even first-grader Megumi decide, ‘what kind of life do you want to live? Based on what you value, what do you think is the right decision for you?’

Again to contrast when Gojou was a student, in the absence of being supported by adults, he and Geto had made the decision together to act on their conscience and save Amanai. Again, their decision was due to the recognition that Riko is her own person, someone who has human relationships with others and individual desires. They recognized this even before meeting and forming their own friendship with her.

By choosing together to save Amanai, Gojou and Geto were, consciously or not, expressing the desire to live in a world in which young people in the jujutsu world are treated as humans first above all else, regardless of what objectified role they must play for the greater good.

Even though they ultimately failed, it is the act of deciding together what kind of world they want to live in and want to create that Gojou wishes to carry on with Megumi and likely his students more generally. No one ever gave Gojou and Geto the opportunity to express their values, and no adult watched over them as they tried to do what they thought was right.

Now, by asking Megumi what to do with Yuji, Gojou is offering him what no one did when he was young.

It’s easy to see the persistence of the old order that Gojou has rejects. (The panels from chapter 137 would also be relevant examples to use here, but I think that chapter deserves a post of its own when considering how Yuta relates to all this with Yuji’s renewed execution order.)

At the same time, by allowing Megumi to participate in saving Yuji, Gojou must also knows the risk of the guilt he’d feel if Sukuna ended up killing people as has now happened.

That’s a heavy burden to place on a young person. In ordinary circumstances, one might question if it was prudent for Gojou to do so. But there are contextualizing factors to this that may support Gojou’s methods here as worth the high risk of it backfiring (as it has indeed ended up happening in Shibuya).

Importantly, the moment deciding whether to save Yuji was made jointly by Megumi and Gojou; it’s a shared responsibility. Realistically, regardless of Megumi’s answer, Gojou would have single-handedly fought the higher-ups for Yuji’s right to live just as he had successfully fought for Yuta’s life. But by inviting Megumi to be implicated with saving Yuji in a political context, Gojou offers his personal philosophy in which that fight is made together with Megumi as someone who will not always be his student, but who will one day become an ally to this mission of changing the jujutsu world.

Unfortunately, Gojou could never have anticipated being sealed away at this point and leaving his students without his protection. With Gojou out of the picture to take responsibility for Sukuna’s rampage, Megumi will take on the full emotional burden even more than he has already, and this time without his teacher present to lessen the weight of that by defending Yuji from the higher ups.

In the context of the most recent chapter 137, Yuta’s reintroduction to the story actually complicates all this a little in the scenario that his individual conscience drives him to want to execute Yuta for the sake of his friends. And even in the case that he changes his mind to support Yuji, more often than not, and even with Geto and Gojou’s attempt to save Amanai which risked Tengen becoming an enemy of humanity, individualistic motivations come with much higher risks and moral ambiguities than the conservative, traditional system that emphasizes collectivism; the former not a straightforwardly positive principle. As always, it will be interesting how these ideas continue to develop as these questions are brought to the forefront again with Yuta, and then with Megumi’s re-evaluation of his choices post-Shibuya.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #fushiguro megumi #jjk meta

[buckstaposition]

Don’t wanna miss a thing

Birthday song challenge for @din-damn-djarin (prompt 37)

Marcus Moreno x widowed f!reader, Missy Moreno & reader 

1999 words

summary & warnings: Just days before your wedding to Marcus, your emotions are going a bit haywire. Starts angsty but turns fluffy I promise! Themes of loss and grief, loss of a spouse/family member

Sobbing in the bathtub a couple of days before your wedding was not where you thought this evening was going, but here you were. Bawling your eyes out. You had just meant to take a quick shower to freshen up before bed, as your day had been mostly filled with last minute preparations and you were sweaty from hauling around decorations. Maybe not hiring a wedding planner had been a mistake, in more ways than one.

“Honey? You in there?” Marcus’ voice sounded after a hesitant knock on the bathroom door. You knew you should answer him, but you just didn’t have the strength to at this moment.

“Sweetheart?” He tried again, and you could hear the worry in his tone and it only made you feel worse.

“I’m coming in.” Marcus warned after another two minutes or so. It was endearing how considerate he was of your privacy even though you’d told him it was okay to come into the bathroom with you on numerous occasions. If you really didn’t want anyone to come in you’d lock the door and he was the man you were going to marry in less than 48 hours.

The door creaked open and Marcus padded across the bathmat, slowly pulling aside the shower curtain.

“Darling?” Hesitantly, he reached out his hand to you, gently nudging your shoulder. Still sobbing, you gripped it and held it to your face, kissing his palm between tears and hoping he’d understand. Even if you didn’t.

“Is this about Sean?” He asked softly, thumb caressing your cheekbone. You nodded. Marcus sighed; he hated seeing you upset. Just like Sean had. Marcus nudged your chin up and pressed a kiss to your forehead, not caring that the water got on his glasses.

“If you want to be alone for a bit longer that’s alright, but please let me get you out of the shower? You’re shivering.”

It was true enough. The water had gone cold a while ago and now, taking stock of your body you realized you were freezing. You nodded and let Marcus help you up and wrap you in the big fluffy towels he’d bought the two of you as a house-warming gift when you’d moved in together. You leaned on him as he dried you off, suddenly exhausted from your outburst of emotion. You let him help you dress yourself in your fluffiest pyjamas, the shivers slowly subsiding when he pulled your extra fluffy socks onto your feet.

“Okay?” He asked, kneeling on the ground between your feet while you were sitting on your shared bed. You nodded absently, catching his hand and bringing it up to your face. The tears had stopped but the deep sadness lingered.

“Please stay?” You whispered. He kissed your knee, then your free hand.

“I’ll just tell Missy good night, okay?”

A noise from the hallway drew your attention. Missy stood in the doorframe like summoned, and your heart broke at her anxious expression.

“Hey bunny.” You tried to smile, but it didn’t quiet reach your eyes. Missy looked between you and Marcus in concern, her lip starting to quiver.

“Bunny, what is it?” You patted the space next to you, inviting her to sit. After a look at her father, she rushed over, instantly wrapping her arms around you. You exchanged a worried glance with Marcus, and he rose to sit down at his daughter’s other side.

“What’s wrong, bunny? You know you can tell me.” You coaxed again, your own undefined sorrows forgotten in face of her obvious anguish.

“Diyouchangeyourmindaboutthewedding?” It rushed out of her in one breath and she clung to you harder. You hugged her back, squeezing her smaller frame tightly and caressing her hair.

“Oh sweetie, no! Why would you think that?”

“Cuz I heard you crying and-“ she hiccupped a sob into your shoulder, her voice small when she continued. “Please don’t leave us!”

“Oh bunny!” Your own eyes were starting to water again. “I won’t! I won’t ever leave you! You two are my whole world!”

You squeeze her tightly to you, feel Marcus’ arms enveloping you both and look up briefly to see how he’s doing with all this. The look on his face is heart-breaking, and you lean over quickly to press a reassuring kiss to his lips.

“Then why are you so upset?” Missy sniffled. You sighed and ordered your thoughts, mad at yourself for causing anguish to this girl you’ve grown to love so much.

“It’s sort of a silly thing really.” You began. “You know how I was married before?”

“Yeah.” You’d taken her to see his grave once, just like Marcus and Missy had taken you to meet the previous Mrs Moreno. It felt only right. “You still miss him?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. I always will, but that’s not what made me cry. It was… I feel guilty for being so happy, with you two. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah…no… I don’t know.” Missy scrunched up her nose in thought. She was a smart girl, very mature for her age, but in the end she was still only a twelve-year-old girl.

“You see, when you lose someone you love very much, that grief never really goes away. Like you still miss your mom, right?”

“Every day.” She sniffled a bit less now, and looked up at her father, who nodded silently. “But I’d miss you, too!”

“I know, bunny.” You kissed her forehead, wanting to soothe her. “You won’t ever have to choose between us. Your mom is your mom and that will never change.”

“I don’t want to have to choose.” Missy whispered, wiping her tears away. “But I still want her back.”

“I know, bunny, I know. I want my husband back all the time, too.” You exchanged another glance with Marcus, glad to see that he understood and let you take the lead in this discussion. It warmed your heart to know how unconditionally he trusted you with his daughter. “It’s so unfair, isn’t it? It makes me so angry sometimes that it happened to me.”

“It does?” Missy’s eyes went wide. She turned to her father to confirm and he nodded, mouthing a soft ‘yeah, me too’ to her.

“The point is, it’s okay to feel all these conflicting things. And sometimes they might overwhelm you, like they did me today, and that’s okay too because I have people who are there for me when that happens.”

“You know you can always talk to me, us, about anything. Or grandma. Or your friends.” Marcus hugged her close and wiped away her tears, like he had yours earlier. “And if that’s not enough we will do anything to help you, okay?”

“Okay.” Missy smiled a watery smile, snuggling into her dad while holding your hand close. The three of you huddled together for a few minutes, giving everyone the chance to settle. Missy, being a kid, bounced back fastest.

“Can we have a movie night?” She looked at you both with the big puppy eyes she had inherited from her father and perfected over the course of her young life. You didn’t even need to look at Marcus to know the answer.

“And what movie were you thinking?”

“Mulan!”

“Okay, you prep the TV, I’ll get on the popcorn.” Marcus prompted, motioning for her to go ahead downstairs. She was out of the room with the speed of lightning.

“You sure that kid doesn’t have any powers? Super speed maybe?”

“Positive. You okay, honey?” He cupped your cheek and looked deep into your eyes, gaze searching.

“Positive. This actually really helped.” You smiled and leaned in for a small kiss. “So, I think we’re not too bad at this parenting thing, huh?”

“Are you kidding? You’re amazing at it!” Marcus hugged you close, kissing your forehead and then your cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

---

The reception was in full swing and everyone was enjoying themselves. There had been no mishaps save for the kind that would make for funny stories later and the cake was almost gone. Almost being the operative word. You were in your seat, relieved to be sitting down for a while and re-braiding Missy’s hair where the decorative ribbons and flowers had come loose during the day. Marcus was weaving his way through the guests back to your table, grinning triumphantly.

“Swiped the last slice of cake while Colin wasn’t looking.” You looked behind him to see Miracle Guy frowning at the now empty cake stand.

“Oh darling, you shouldn’t have!” You protested insincerely. It was your wedding after all. You felt you were entitled to some cake.

“He’s already had two!” Marcus put the plate down in front of you and produced some clean cutlery from his pocket. “Besides, anything for my girls.”

“Awww, you’re the best husband and dad!” You pulled him in by his bowtie to press a kiss to his lips.

“Gross.” Missy commented, snatching up one of the small fancy forks and starting to dig in. The two of you paid her no mind, too engrossed in your new marital bliss. You took turns feeding each other cake in between kisses and whispering sweet things, but really Missy got most of it. You didn’t even notice the band switching to a new song. Or the announcement they had made just before that, apparently. At least not until Anita planted herself right in front of your table and brought her cane down hard on the ground.

“You two! Stop canoodling! It’s time for your dance!”

“Mom!” Marcus whined, mostly for show as he was already pulling his tux jacket back on in the same motion, then holding his hand out to you. “May I have this dance, Mrs Moreno?”

“Gladly, Mr Moreno.” You smiled and rose, letting him lead you to the middle of the dancefloor. The band had been stuck playing an intro to your chosen song for several long moments now and launched into it one last time as you took your positions. Aerosmith – I don’t wanna miss a thing. Your song. Marcus took your hand, smiling softly, and when the vocalists started so did you, twirling around the dancefloor. You felt like you were floating, a moment of near perfect happiness.

“I love you so much.” You mouthed to Marcus as he led you across the dancefloor, his hand warm at your waist. He smiled, spun you out and then reeled you back in, closer this time to press a kiss to your temple.

“I love you.” The song ended and you paused for a moment to receive the applause from your guests. The band faded into another song and people started filling the floor around you while you swayed in place for a moment.

“You know, there’s only one thing missing.”

Marcus’s brow furrowed. “What’s that?”

You nodded towards the table where Missy was still sitting, chin in her hands and looking out towards the dancefloor, a picture both wistful and yet a little forlorn. You waved to get her attention, then motioned for her to join you two once that was accomplished. She started, her brow furrowing in the exact same adorable way as her father, then stood hesitantly.

“Come on, bunny!” You called, letting go of Marcus just enough to make space for her. Her whole face lit up and she came running over, long hair swooshing after her. She all but crashed into the two of you, throwing one arm around your waist and the other around Marcus.

“Wanna dance?” You smiled at her, drawing her as close as the volume of your skirt allowed for a little side hug.

“Yes!” She exclaimed, already starting to sway to the music. Marcus surreptitiously wiped at his eyes before hugging the both of you close. It took you all a moment to adjust your footing, but you managed it soon enough. This was truly, absolutely perfect. You could stay lost in this moment forever.

- - - 

author’s note: I started this whole thing over like five times, with different concepts and characters, and somehow landed on this. It turned more into bonding with Missy than the pairing, but hey. Hope you’ll still enjoy it. 

and yes, I named Miracle Guy Colin. He just looks like a Colin to me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#my writing #we can be heroes (film) #marcus moreno x reader #oneshot #prompt

[howtosingit]

Fic: i want your midnights

“It’s late, you should be asleep.” * Carlos prepares to return to work.

1.6K | Also on AO3

- - - - - - -

TK wakes up alone in their dimly lit bedroom. 

Moonlight shines through the balcony doors to his right, bathing the rumpled sheets next to him in pale hues and shadows. He runs his hand against them, letting out a sigh at their coldness. Squeezing his tired eyes shut for a just moment, he chooses to ignore the sharp, quick pain that radiates from his stapled skull in favor of getting out of bed to search for his missing human blanket.

He finds Carlos exactly where he thought he would: sitting on one of the bar stools, his head propped up on his hand as he leans over the counter, slowly scrolling through something on his laptop. TK can see his leg bouncing slightly, his foot tapping against the stool’s leg from where it’s resting on a support beam.

“It’s late, you should be asleep,” Carlos says without turning to look at him, his exhaustion clear in the tone of his voice.

TK merely scoffs in reply, stepping away from the bottom of the stairs and crossing the room to wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. “I could say the same thing about you, babe,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss against Carlos’s neck before burying his face in his soft grey shirt to inhale his favorite scent.

“Couldn’t get my brain to shut up,” his boyfriend explains, shifting to run his hand along TK’s arm around his waist, his eyes still fixed on the computer screen in front of him. 

TK hums, glancing over to the screen as well, unsurprised to see the 783-page APD manual taking up half the screen, a document filled with notes about protocols filling the other half. He’s seen the manual a lot in the past two weeks, pretty sure that Carlos has been pouring over it every chance he gets during his time off work. 

His boyfriend had filled him in on all the details of his suspension the day TK was released from the hospital, immediately saving him from feeling any ridiculous guilt about Carlos taking time off to care for him after his incident. 

Instead, Carlos had decided to take some time off for himself following his one-week suspension. TK knows that the investigation, as well as his short hospital stay and Grace and Judd’s accident, has thoroughly rocked their world, and he’s thankful that Carlos willingly gave himself time to process and recover. 

Now, however, their days at home are numbered. TK gets his staples removed tomorrow, and he’ll have a few more days of recovery after that before he’s back to work. As for Carlos, he reports for his first shift the next evening, one that TK knows he’s incredibly anxious about.

Which is why TK is not at all surprised to find him studying the ADP manual at midnight in their kitchen instead of sleeping in their bed where he belongs.

Without a word, TK reaches forward to grip the corner of the laptop, slowly closing it. Carlos doesn’t object to the action; instead he just lets out a sigh, his wide frame shrinking as he collapses in on himself, almost like he’s shutting down along with the device. TK rubs his back for a moment before sliding his hand up his spine and running his fingers through the short, cropped hair at the back of Carlos’s head. Gently, he guides his boyfriend to face him, taking in the tiredness behind his favorite pair of beautiful brown eyes. He gives Carlos a small smile, waiting until the other man returns it, before he leans forward to press their lips together.

Carlos gasps against him, his body shaking as his mouth opens up to TK’s affection. There was little distance between them before, but now they cling tighter, their bodies pressed together as their arms wrap around each other. Carlos whimpers softly, and TK answers him by sealing their connected lips, allowing none of their love to escape. They’re both too tired for the kiss to become the start of something more, but that’s okay. It’s a conversational kiss, one where Carlos says “I need to know you’re going to always be here with me” and TK responds with “I promise you there’s nowhere else I will ever be.”

They still cling tightly to one another when their lips separate, each of them gasping for breath in the sliver of space between them. TK’s head spins, his nose dragging against Carlos’s as they find safety and security in their warm embrace.

“Come be my blanket?” he asks after a moment, keeping his eyes closed. 

Carlos doesn’t respond with words; instead, he shifts, slipping off the bar stool and reaching to take TK’s hand. He takes the lead, moving to flip off the light switch before beginning the ascent up the stairs, dragging a willing TK along behind him.

They don’t speak as they climb into bed, each of them taking their sides. TK turns to face the wall, Carlos slotting in behind him to cover him completely. His boyfriend slides his arm around TK’s waist to link their fingers over his stomach before resting his chin in his neck, fitting perfectly in the slot created between his collarbone and left ear as if he was designed to do so.

For others, the arrangement might feel too close, too restrictive. To TK, there is nothing better than feeling Carlos’s touch against every inch of his body. The perfect human blanket providing maximum security and warmth.

TK waits until Carlos’s breathing settles, dragging his thumb against the back of his hand, before he speaks again.

“Tell me about the manual?”

Carlos huffs, the puff of air pressing against TK’s neck. “You ask as if you don’t already know,” he says into TK’s skin.

“I mean, I have an idea,” TK admits, tightening his grip on Carlos’s hand, “but I want to hear it from you.”

Carlos nods against him, pressing his lips against TK’s stubbled jaw. 

“I’m scared to go back.” TK hears the way his voice shakes.

“I know.”

“I don’t want to mess up again...”

TK makes a noise of disapproval. “You didn’t mess up, Carlos. You were cleared to go back because you did the right thing.”

“Yeah…” Carlos trails off. “But, I keep thinking about how it felt when no one believed me.”

TK lets the admission hang in the silence, waiting for Carlos to continue.

“I’ve never really fit in with everyone else in the precinct, for a lot of reasons, but I’ve never been a total pariah before.”

“You’re a better officer than all of them, that’s their problem.”

“I think you’re biased, Ty,” Carlos argues weakly.

“Oh, really?” TK fires back, rolling to face Carlos directly while still keeping them as close as possible. “Then why have you been studying that manual for two weeks now?”

“I-” Carlos starts, his eyes shifting to look past TK. “I’m just reminding myself of protocols so I don’t get rusty.”

“And?”

“And nothing,” Carlos assures him. “That’s all.”

“So you’re not mentally reviewing every single call that you’ve responded to in the past five years?”

“No, I-” He cuts himself off at TK’s look, letting out another huff as he rolls his eyes. “How did you know?”

“Because I know you, Carlos,” TK reminds him, bringing a hand up to cup his boyfriend’s face. “You’re a good man, one of the best I’ve ever met, and yet every day you try to make yourself better.”

He watches as tears fill Carlos’s eyes, his bottom lip quivering slightly as he stares at him.

“So, what did you find? Have you made any bad calls?”

“I haven’t always followed protocol,” Carlos admits, his voice thick with emotion.

“Do you regret that?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I did the right thing.”

“You’re sure?”

Carlos pauses, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he considers the question.

“Yes,” he finally answers, his voice strong and certain.

“Me, too,” TK agrees, running his thumb along the curve of Carlos’s cheek. “I’m always sure of you.”

He watches the tear fall from the corner of his boyfriend’s eye and run along the ridge of his nose. He leans forward, pressing their lips together again.

“Trust yourself, Carlos,” he says when he pulls away to find more tears running down Carlos’s face. “Trust yourself the way that I trust you. The way that I know I will always trust you.”

Carlos lets out a quiet sob, no longer able to hold it inside. 

“Promise me?” TK asks, refusing to let it go.

His boyfriend nods. “I promise,” he whispers around another soft sob.

TK smiles, sliding his hand down to Carlos’s shoulder and pressing gently. His lover understands immediately, rolling over to face the door out to the balcony. TK slides in behind him, mirroring their earlier positions, content to now be a blanket for Carlos. He presses his lips to the other man’s cheek, transferring all of his love to him in every touch they share.

“I love you, Carlos, and I believe in you, with everything in me,” TK whispers into his ear, tightening his grip when Carlos shivers beneath him. “And in case you forget that, I promise that will be here every moment of every day to remind you, no matter what.”

Carlos responds by bringing their joined hands up to his mouth, pressing a wet, shaky kiss against the back of TK’s hand. He has no problem hearing the words that Carlos can’t speak.

They stay there, sheltered in their loving embrace, until they both sink into a deep, peaceful sleep that they only ever manage to find in each other’s arms.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #I wrote a thing #my tarlos one-shot collection

[freeseafirefly]

A lot of thoughts are eating at my brain... The Final Stroke RH spoilers!

Wondering about the possible resolution of the RH fight, i can't help but think we are being led the "adults must make rational decisions and it's ok" route, where at the end it's Haru who will have to accept Rin's choice and at the same time find his own motivation to swim that isn't Rin (or at least, isn't swimming with Rin on the same event.) It is too sad to think about, because competing in free has always been the most RH thing, they originate from it, that incomparable fire only they could ignite in each other has always been the essence of their relationship, and to accept that they can't have it anymore? Rin says it wasn't an easy decision, Haru denies "you always decides things lightly" and accuses him in running away, in choosing the easier option since there is no Albert in fly. They both are right and wrong in their selfishness in their own way, and for Rin this decision is indeed rational--going for a more realistic way to secure his position in the pro world, but. Rational adult decisions often mean giving up on something bigger, like your dream and passion. And ironically, it's not Haru who follows Azuma's advice to sacrifice smth first, it is Rin. Following Mikhail's advice. Which turns out to be the same, and that was really unexpected, given how he seemed to oppose Azuma's ideas. But in the essense, Rin's decision to sacrifice free, to sacrifice them in order to become stronger, is the same "you can't win if you don't throw something away." Only Rin believes that " them " means them both swimming as pro, swimming for the National team, sharing the dream and the future in a larger sense, whereas for Haru...it's not enough. He feels betrayed and abandoned again. His outbreak just confirms that this is how he felt all the previous times, suppressing his feelings either for being scared of them or believing that Rin must be free. (Continue under the cut)

So, the ultimate question, will Rin's decision be proved right or wrong? Because on the other side of rationality, there is the heart and soul of the sport, and what can RH do if they ARE the embodiment of that for each other? Is it their weakness or their strength? This codependency. Probably both. Quoting Rin, "our relationship can't be sumed up in such simple terms", and indeed, they as much motivated each other along the way as they caused each other's setbacks, with so many strong emotions tangled up that one indeed might think it'd be healthier for them to try and find a way in pro that isn't as dependent of each other. "If you're not there, swimming ahead of me, i have nothing to aim at" by Rin always kind of hinted at that, that they would have to address it at some point, and although Haru didn't explicitly stated it, it had always been the same for him. Competitive swimming always meant Rin for him, he couldn't do it without him on his mind, as his guiding light even when they were apart. So, i LOVE the new movie for actually going there and digging right into the core of RH conflict instead of inventing some artificial challenge. Gosh, i even wrote about the same thing in my RH fanfiction (my native language one), posing the same question--is their codependency their strength or their weekness? Being that guiding light for each other, how can they evolve or regress when they're forced to? Rin fails to qualify there as well, it even has the similar angsting in the shower scene, that's also why I'm wheezing because who knew they would actually go there?? I also like how this problem is addressed in In pursuit of Olympic dreams by ladyzeia, but fics have the privilege of bringing their relationship on a different level while i doubt the canon will dare go that way.

Ok, back to the point. Even though rational and mature, I strongly dislike the idea of Rin throwing free away, for a few reasons. It will mean the RinHaru as we know and love them will be destroyed. And i can't even call it evolution (not unless KA somehow manages to do it in a veeery convincing way that won't leave me any doubts that they are happy like that.) Their unique, inspiring and precious relationship getting dismissed as something immature, something they must grow out of, i just can't stand this thought. But then again, i can't help but think about MakoHaru situation from S2, where they had to separate and go different ways as a part of a natural growing up process, and Haru took it bad at first as well. Yet there and then, it felt right, their future paths had to be different, after all, and they had to take a step on their own. I can't tell if it is the same with RinHaru now. I need to actually see the movie, to feel it, it's hard to choose the side rn.

I also hate the idea of Rin giving up on free because i hate when Rin gives up. Like, since S1. (Maybe only Haru hates it more lol.) I get that he isn't a genius of Haru level, yet he's pretty damn good, and their close times speak for themselves.

So, what i think could be a compromise solution is Rin focusing on fly for the next tournament, grabbing that sponsor contract, while in the meantime Haru goes through the process of finding his own motivation, and not the desperate one "I'm scared of losing i must beat Albert before i turn 20", but a positive one, something to do with loving the competition, reconnecting with water and the nakama spirit to complete it all, maybe digging up that time capsule which probably contains those recorded messages from the beginning scene? So, what i mean is a temporary separation to figure things out, and then reunion. Rin picking up free again once he's more confident in where he stands. Haru enjoying what he does, free of his fears and assured he won't break even if he's alone. And then...no longer being alone. Please, KA. This boy has suffered enough. Let him have his Rin at last, in whatever way they both want it. Please.

So, what do you guys think? Is Haru being selfish here, kinda pulling the S1!Rin's "you must swim for me!", or is it Rin who's wrong, cutting away something that inspired him so much and connected them together? Could he do both strokes and succeed, say, if he actually swam with Haru on one team, every day, drawing out each other's full potential? And if he sticks to his decision, after all, what should they do to save their bond? Will swimming relay together be enough?

We still have that S2 ending scene with them both competing in Rome in the same event, in the adjacent lanes, though. Unless they retcon it, or unless Haru swims fly, it is them swimming free together in the future.

#free! the final stroke #fs spoiler #SPOILERS #rinharu #harurin #free! #sea rants

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V1;  report viii

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, romance

warnings: someone will be leaving...temporarily....

word count: 2.3k

g/n: sorry for posting this late sdfasdfa

[taglist]: @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle​

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

There’s a knock on your door, one you instantly recognize as it’s a catchy beat you exclusively share with one person alone: Ayoung. “Mind if I came over?” she asks from the other side of the door. You roll your eyes, chuckling as you walk to your doorway, “I don’t even know why you even bother asking, honestly!” 

“Unlawful entry happens when a private person enters the property of another without consent from the owner. The same shall be punished by…” 

Ayoung pauses her sentence midway as you open the door. “And does that count when said owner had long given such private person the passcode to her door, Attorney Shin Ayoung?” 

It’s Ayoung who fondly rolls her eyes this time. She raises her hands, fingers turning white as she clutches onto two bags full of food. Your face lights up at the sight.  Whoever said that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach was severely mistaken - that, or he or she hadn’t taken a woman’s true source of wellbeing into consideration.

“What’s on our menu today?” 

“Oh you know our go-to review food. Seori halmeoni’s jjajjangmyeon house special!” Your mouth falls agape, astounded at how she even managed to get those when halmeoni’s special dish always sold out in the middle of the day. 

“Please don’t tell you lined up for hours for these...” 

“What if I told you I didn’t have to?” Ayoung winks while she takes her shoes off.  You grab the food from her hands and start setting the table. “What do you mean you didn’t have to?” She chuckles at your creased forehead, knowing you’re talking about the minimum one-hour waiting time of halmeoni’s stall - and that’s on off-peak hours.

“I think the landlady might’ve mentioned me moving to a new apartment, so when I was coming home from school today, she called me over to her stall and handed me these care packages.” 

“Awh, that’s so sweet of her!” Your chest warms at the thought and the reminder that your lovely neighbor was going to move away. Not to mention Chohee has similar plans too. 

Ayoung lets Netflix pick out a random movie, adjusting the lighting of your room enough for you to eat your dinner while watching. “Right, speaking of, won’t the hospitals be sending out acceptances for your post-graduate internship?” 

Pushing your laptop to Ayoung’s side of the table, you show her the screen of your mail - the same page you have been refreshing for hours now. “Well, let’s just hope for the best then, shall we?” 

Forty-five minutes into Miss Congeniality, a notification from your mail app lights up your phone screen. You see the header display that it’s from Woocheon, and it’s as if your heart drops to the ground, and your fingers are simply glued to the side of your phone, leaving you staring at it until the screen turns black again. 

Ayoung notices your silence and pauses the movie. “You okay?” the sweet girl places a comforting hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently to wake you from your trance. Gulping, you look at her expectantly. “It’s an email from Woocheon.” Her eyes widen along with yours. “Well, aren’t you going to open it?” 

“What if I didn’t make it?” 

“Unnie, you wouldn’t know unless you do.” 

With one eye closed, you turn to your laptop and click on the new mail. “Besides, they’d be a fool if they didn't accept the application of the same woman who topped the exam now, wouldn’t they?”

Just then, Chohee’s caller ID lights up your phone. 

“_____________!!!!!!!!!” Your best friend’s voice rings in your ears, your barely comprehensible name loud and clear with Chohee’s shrieking.

“I’m already positive you got accepted to Woocheon because I had this gut feeling and you know my gut never lied to me - plus I had it confirmed by a fortune teller…” Chohee starts, then takes a breather, “BUT guess what? I also made it to Daegu Medical Center!! GAH _________ I’m literally crying right now!!” 

“I’m so proud of you Chee, I really am,” your voice wavers, and you bite on your lip to keep yourself from pouring out all your feelings. “Don’t go me emotional right now, young woman! I’ve got makeup on, and my parents and I are going out to dinner, and I can’t ruin my cute outfit with tear-stained cheeks now, can I?” 

Typical Chohee. You smile. “Of course, Chee. I know. We’re gonna be actual doctors! You go ahead and enjoy your family time. Young-ie has come over with jjajjangmyeon.” 

“It’s jjajjang-night and none of you even bothered to send me an invite?! So much for our so-called friendship huh!” 

“Well, if you’re willing to drive three hours all the way from Daegu after you have dinner with your parents, you’re free to come. Otherwise, we’ll have to finish halmeoni’s recipe all by ourselves.” 

Chohee sighs from the other end of the line, while Ayoung watches your conversation with your best friend with the fondest of smiles. Chohee doesn’t stay long after that, declaring that she has to go. As soon as you put down your phone, Ayoung asks about your best friend, “If you don’t mind me asking, why did she choose Daegu Medical Center? I thought Woocheon was like the most sought after hospital for internships?” 

“Actually, DMC is being managed by Woocheon too. If I’m not mistaken, it’s also equally as hard to enter Woocheon. Plus her parents work there too, so DMC was the only hospital for her.” Ayoung nods her head in acknowledgment, then presses a button on the remote to continue the movie when an unknown number sends you a text.

Out of all people, you weren’t expecting Soomin to send you a text. You’d been meaning to hear from her so you excitedly send her a text back. 

Just the same as the last time you went here with Chohee, the tiny bell dings when you open the door to the cafe. Soomin instantly hears the sound and waves you over to her table. As you near, she rises from her seat with a big smile on her face. 

“________! Long time no see!” she exclaims, extending a hand outward to offer you the seat across hers. 

“Soomin! It’s been some time, hasn’t it? Would you believe it’s been months since we were reviewing our notes under strobe lights and loud music? Out of all the places to review though!” you laugh, setting your bag down. While Soomin goes through the menu, you take the opportunity to look for Jimin if he was around so you could introduce them to each other too. After all, there’s no harm casually meeting your workmates before meeting them formally as coworkers right? 

“You know, I was really looking forward to this day - especially when you had invited me to this lovely place for brunch…” A smile graces Soomin’s youthful features. “I actually know someone who world here...I’m not exactly sure if he’s working today though…” Once more, you glance over Soomin’s shoulders, hoping you’ll catch a glimpse of Jimin’s golden locks. Ah, yes. Speaking of goldilocks. 

“Wow! Just in time.... He’s actually here today! Jimin!” Your calling his name surprises him, immediately causing him to look for the source of the voice. He’s sporting a wide grin when he recognizes you from the counter, until he sees who you’re with then diverts his attention somewhere and walks away quickly. 

Absolutely taken aback by his reaction, you sit there for a moment with your mouth agape until Soomin clears her throat discreetly. “Um...o-okaayy, that was awfully strange...I’m sorry - he’s not usually like that.” You discreetly hide the disappointment in your voice, wondering if Jimin just literally pretended to not see you when you had even waved him over. 

“Oh really?” 

“Yeah...um...I’ll try to approach him later…” 

“Perhaps he’s uncomfortable meeting strangers?” 

Highly unlikely. Not when Jimin had no problem interacting with the other oath takers that he managed to get the whole group and your families away from the maze they called the convention center. Plus, he’s really good with the customers too who generously fill up the tip box after experiencing Jimin’s exemplary customer service. Jimin’s ability to handle social interactions is out of the question. 

“This Jimin guy,” Soomin starts, pointing a thumb towards the till, “how did you get to know him?” 

You pause for a moment, recalling your memories. “Honestly, I just realized it now, but I actually met him the same night I met you. He was in the same club we were dragged into, and when you convinced me to approach the cute guy at the bar, he actually saved me from a spiked drink - from the dude I was supposed to hit on. The next time I met Jimin was when Chohee and I went here for brunch too and we saw him working here, so I guess that’s how we all came to be friends…” Jimin’s cold-shoulder just moments ago appears in your thoughts. “....I guess...at least that’s what I thought.” 

You figure this apparent ‘friendship’ with Jimin wasn’t exactly as real as you thought it was.

It’s all the more surprising that Soomin seems to be the least interested in your meeting, or, that she already knew who Jimin was. She was simply nodding her head as you talked, occasionally sneaking a few glances at Jimin while he was serving orders to the other customers. 

You start patching things up, trying to put two and two together to see if it would all make sense. No way. Could it be? That these two had history? 

Just then, Soomin stands to excuse herself and heads over to the toilet. The moment she disappears from your sight, you hastily call Jimin over. “Are you okay? Was there a reason why you couldn’t come over earlier? I wanted to introduce two of my friends to each other, but one doesn’t seem to be so willing....” You cross your arms over your chest, murmuring your hurt feelings loud enough for Jimin to hear. 

“I’m sorry, ________. But your ‘friend’....she’s not really just someone uh…” 

“Was she your ex-girlfriend then?” Pursing your lips, you egg him to go on with a raise of your eyebrow. Jimin’s eyes widen and he shakes his head back and forth. “No! No...it’s not like that...she’s actually my boss.” 

His hesitant explanation doesn’t convince you one bit. Surely, there’s all the more reason for him not to blatantly ignore you when his boss was seated right in front of you the whole time, wasn’t it? 

Jimin sighs as he watches your reaction, knowing his clarification didn’t suffice. “Well she isn’t my boss, per se, but she is the daughter of the woman who owns this cafe. Wait, they own the whole building, really.” 

Oh. 

“And uh…” Jimin gulps. Hard. “....the other day…” He looks around warily. “...I might have spilled coffee all over her dress...which was white…” 

Oh. 

Shit. 

“Why didn’t you just quit? It would have been easier.” 

“I couldn’t. Not when Woocheon’s results weren’t out yet. I need my allowances too!” 

Just as if on a terrible cue, out of nowhere, Soomin appears beside Jimin. You weren’t about to abort from your original mission though. “Hah! Perfect timing! Um, Soomin, this is Jim…” Before you even finish your sentence, Jimin bows quickly, apologizes, then turns on his heel, declaring that he still had to get back to the kitchen to do stuff. 

Soomin remains silent, getting back to her seat quietly. You suddenly feel bad for her, seeing how Jimin makes every attempt to ignore her, and gets away with it every time. 

Unfortunately and unlike Chohee, you are unable to get out of an awkward situation in a snap of a finger, so you apologize in Jimin’s stead first. “I’m so sorry, uh, he can be really shy at first…” Hopefully that wasn’t a complete lie?

Much to your surprise, Soomin waves it off with a smile. “It’s no worry, really. He’s probably still bothered with him spilling coffee all over my dress but I assured him a couple of times that it wasn’t that big of a deal. And that I always have extra clothes stashed in my car.” 

Soomin shrugs as she takes a sip of her lemonade. “I told Jimin it was nothing afterwards, but he wouldn’t stop apologizing...and now he won’t look at me too.” You’re at a total loss, amazed at how she calmly and easily handled that situation like a true boss. 

“Besides, dwelling on such a small thing won’t be worth it. Not when we’ll be spending an entire year together…” 

You go over her statement again, partly confused. An entire year together? She meant the internship, probably? And above all that - she knew about Jimin too, even when the boy won’t even let himself get five meters close to Soomin?” 

“Ah yes, I’m sure Jimin has told you about Woocheon as well right?” 

Well, you were aware of that, but you weren’t so sure about how she knew about yours and Jimin’s applications. “Yeah...um, but….I’m sorry, was there a list online that mentioned all the chosen applicants for the internship program?” 

“Oh right - I sort of know some people from Woocheon who have told me about those who got accepted...It still feels like it was just yesterday when I was registering my classes for med school and now we're finally here!” 

The two of you toast the future, clinking your glasses of lemonade together. Nothing could get better than having your friends become your workmates too. Surely, it’s a sad fact that Chohee won’t be going to the same hospital as you would, but you’re beyond elated that she got into DMC where she’d always wanted to work at. 

At least you’ve got Jimin and Soomin by your side now, and hopefully, new friends you’ll meet along the way.

© joontier 2021

#jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #jeon jungkook #bts aus #bts fic #jungkook au #jungkook imagine #bts series #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff

[kijahslove]

No cause I really noticed that sudden switch up. Every week y’all come on here with this new hot take with your dislike for Gabby and I’ve come to realize, y’all are not singing the same tune y’all were singing a few months ago and it’s weird. Like I’ve been realized it and mentioned it but I never thought back longer to a couple of months ago and now I can go deeper into detail with it. Just a few months ago when season 3 was announced and even months before that, I used to see people constantly make post about how Emily doesn’t deserve hate and how the fandom shouldn’t hate her for being manipulative, selfish, useless, annoying, and using people for her personal gain because the men did the same. And the first word y’all threw out was misogyny. Y’all would constantly victimize and coddle her when people said they didn’t like her for those reason and also because they felt like her role shouldn’t have been played by a white woman because she was written as an white prize and how she doesn’t truly understand the culture and she seemed to look down on others that did not share the same status for her and how the role could’ve easily gone to a Latina. She was written to have a victim complex and someone who need saving because she was always the fucking damsel in distress while the other woman on the show literally had to fight and struggle. We would talk about how she seemed to always complain about Miguel’s choices. Even though she is the same woman who had harassed that woman who was involved with the project and black mailed her, then got Ez to do her dirty work a couple of times with no complaint, which is exactly what something Miguel would do. But the moment Ez needed her to do something, she questioned him and didn’t like what he was doing and got angry with him. BUT the moment Gabby came into the picture, that tune changed. Now the same people who used to come on here defending Emily every day, are the same damn people who are calling Gabby emotional manipulative, annoying, useless, and selfish. And that was before season 3 had already started. Y’all were never trying to get to like her from the jump. Y’all had your mind set on disliking her. And the reason were because she was too nice, she was naive, she is bland because she isn’t purposely creating unnecessary drama, she was to positive, she was too quick to try to get involved with the Reyes family and how she wanted Ez to be more open with her (yea I can admit it was a bit soon and she could be overbearing at points but who wouldn’t want to get to know more the family of the man and the man himself you’re dating), she had hope that she wouldn’t be involved with violence. She specifically told Ez that those were promises he couldn’t keep but he continued to make those promises to her so I don’t see how that’s her fault. I’m sure she knows her life will not be 100% perfect with Ez. Obviously she know what’s she is getting into with Ez. She has referred back to her past many times about how she has been through shit and she is not someone who needs saving so I don’t see how she is naive. And she never exactly made Ez choose between her or his life. She told him if he loves her to let her go. That’s was something Ez did on his own. But Emily can be with a man she knows who world is surrounded with violence, but still think she is exempt from ever being killed or harmed by him in anyway. Which was exactly the point Erin was trying to get across. That ring was not finna save her. But what did Emily do, start digging at Erin and throwing all her trauma back in her face showing how naive she is. And then with the shit that’s been going on between her and Miguel, y’all want everyone to feel bad for her. The only part that I can say I disagree with his him trying to kill her. I can admit that’s not right. She mentioned in the first season how she believed Miguel could keep his two worlds separated but then that did not happen cause his world got involved with hers. Which means she’s been in some fantasy land this whole time while knowing what he does.

#mayans mc #gabriela castillo

[cherrysung]

highway to heaven

pairing: husband!mark x reader

genre: fluff / smut

warnings: unprotected sex (stay safe!), love making, slight marking, oral (f. receiving), grinding, soft sex

prompts: none

summary: with slightly tipsy eyes, and in a sweetness engulfing the night you two share, the love of your life chooses to convey just how big his love actually is for you. unimaginable heights of loving and caring.

requested by anon.

word count: 1.7k

note: me is crying :(, anonnie this was such a wholesome request! I truly hope you enjoy this!

cherrysung’s nagivation

The air smelled like scented candles and red wine, along with a faint tint of light beer. The twilight skies that managed to seep through the small framed windows were painted pink and purple paired with the softest shade of blue, and the bedroom you currently resided in was very dimly lit due to the golden fire that the tiny candles emitted.

Next to you laid your husband. A glass of wine was held nicely in his grip, a grasp you were oftentimes used to see letting things accidentally drop, or break, or ruin, or even burn. Today, it was elegant and relaxed, much like he rested peacefully on the fluffy mattress.

Though his gaze was usually clumsy, today it was also different.

Or so, you thought.

Although your husband’s eyes and hold appeared to be different from the usual, his personality still remained the same. Add in the amount of alcohol he had already consumed—he was absolutely reckless, and a huge clown. A clown you love.

His giggles echoed throughout the entire bedroom as you sat at the edge of the bed, a glass of the burgundy substance also in your hand. There was the biggest grin on his face, pearly whites showing shamelessly as they quite literally resembled ebullience itself. You could only smile to yourself, gently swirling the liquid in your glass before taking another sip. You were surprised he hadn’t spilled his own drink on the white sheets, yet.

“Mark, you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk, I’m Mark!”

You failed to hold in a snort, the sound leaving along with a roll of your eyes, but a loving smile nonetheless.

Amidst both your busy schedules whether it be jobs or visiting your nosy families, the two of you finally found a time where you could spend alone in each other’s embrace. Upon an anniversary that arrived during your break, your lover decided to celebrate one year of being husband and wife, with a thoughtful dinner, and now; this.

It was only meant to be a few drinks, not two bottles of expensive grape wine and four cans of beer. Not only did the two of you have too much to drink, Mark could barely keep up with even the lightest alcohol.

But, he was still conscious. So, it was fine.

A deeper dip on the mattress formed closer to you, followed by a pair of arms that snaked around your waist. “Baby…”

“Yes, Mark?” You giggled at his breath, smelling of sweet grapes.

“I love you.” He whispered simply, but you could hear the sincerity in his short words. His hands rested innocently under your—or much like his—t-shirt, kneading the skin there gently as they ran up and down your sides.

You placed your glass of wine on the coffee table before you, turning around only to be met with sparkling eyes, in which endless care and love swirled chaotically greater than any effects of tipsiness present. His stare immediately landed on your slightly red lips, gaze locking with yours once again in an attempt to wordlessly ask. “You’re my husband now, Mark. You can kiss me whenever you want.”

His pink lips locked with your own, moulding perfectly as he set a sweet pace. You could taste the alcohol on the tip of his tongue as he ran it across your bottom lip, but you could also taste all the love he had to give you. It dawned upon you that Mark absolutely loved you, and it was an understatement to say you were only head over heels for him. The love you two shared was impossibly more than that.

He carried on caressing your sides, body slowly lowering the two of you and swiftly changing positions. Hovering above you with his hands pressed next to your head onto the sheets, admiring the way your hair lightly sprawled around you and the way your eyes shined when they looked at him, he leaned in again. The kiss grew with more ardour by every passing second, conveying more emotions than you could keep up with.

Your arms rose up to touch his torso, one of your hands softly tugging at the little hairs on the back of his neck, eliciting tiny groans and whines that rumbled all the way from his chest. Soon enough his clothed length was grinding against your core, the bulge growing in size every time your heat chased after him.

Mark’s lips pulled away from your own, with a string of saliva still connecting the two of you before trailing down your jawline and to your collarbones, occasionally biting harshly and sucking into the sensitive skin. In record time, multiple spots ranging from purple, red, yellow and blue were adorning your neck like a fresh masterpiece, your husband’s giggles following soon after when he realized how mad you’d be getting at him later on. For now, he’d take advantage of your submissiveness.

“Can I take this off?” He whispered, hips still driving into yours in search of friction as he tugged impatiently at the shirt that still covered you up.

“We’re literally married, stop asking.”

“Even if we’re married I still always want to make sure you’re comfortable, Mrs. Lee.”

Your heart felt like it was melting at his words, bursting with appreciation while doing leaps out of excitement and gratefulness. You allowed him to take off the t-shirt, lips immediately returning to the skin of your tummy and down towards your most protected gift. To save him from asking for permission yet again, you quickly unclasped your bra, and pulled off your shorts along with your lace parties afterwards.

His breath hitched at the heat pooling between your legs, juices adding a beautiful shimmer to your pussy under the soft lights. “You’re so wet.”

“Do something about it.” Pleads escaped you, hands gently pushing his head closer until his lips were pressed directly against your folds.

Sparing you of any teasing, not only because you were impatient but also because he felt the same way, he dived right in, tongue shifting between sucking on your clit or driving into your dripping hole. Your legs were thrashing around at the feeling of his warm, wet muscle, his hands holding your hips down against the bed to restrain you of any movements.

“Mark!” You whimpered, hands gripping his hair before yanking roughly.

“Princess.” He moaned, the vibrations making your legs tremble more.

“Stop, stop,” you stuttered, bringing his face up to yours as you kissed him passionately, “I want you to cum inside of me.”

“I want to make love to you. I want to show you how much I love you.”

A smile formed on your face as Mark returned the gesture ever so slightly. The alcohol had almost all completely worn off, but the hint of the substance still remained on both your tastebuds. “Do it.”

Only now had you realized your lover was still fully clothed, and due to the consumption of two wine bottles, his clumsy fingers were struggling to unbutton his pants. You tenderly helped him out of the fabric, getting him rid of his dress shirt and underwear, cock springing up while precum ran down its veiny length.

You slowly stroked him, his head flying back in bliss at the feeling of your warm hand wrapped around him. Softly, you guided him into your entrance, moans and groans leaving the both of you as he continued to push his dick into your velvety walls, that welcomed him with a tight hug.

“You can move,” you mumbled against his lips, hands cupping his cheeks lovingly while your eyes locked in together.

Suddenly, it felt like your entire world was Mark and only him. The candles, the faint taste of red grapes on your tongue, or the dark night sky were no longer present in your thoughts. Mark thrusted into you at a decent pace; not rough, but also not too slow. His hands roamed all through your body, unable to stay still at a specific location before they felt like they had not paid enough attention to a different part of you. Sometimes, his fingers ran through your hair, or maybe they played with your perked up nipples.

In spite of everything he did, his mouth was always right by your ear while his teeth gently nibbled on your earlobe, whispering sweet nothings and love confessions that had your heart beating faster than normal.

His hips had considerably sped up; regardless, you could understand how much he loved you, connecting the two of you into one piece as he let you in into the deepest of his thoughts and emotions without having to utter out a single word. His actions were enough.

“Mark, I’m getting close.” You whined, arms pulling him flush against your hot body as you kissed at his neck, sucking purple marks into his skin like he had previously done on yours.

“Baby, I love you so much,” he smiled, “I’m so proud to call you my wife, there’s nobody else who I would’ve wanted to take that spot. I love you, you will never understand how much.”

You were unable to answer him back, but he knew you felt the same way too. His length slid through your walls perfectly, like a puzzle piece put together, caressing your insides as the tip of his member kissed at your sweet spot. Your whines got louder, and his groans also heightened in pitch when his climax threatened to arrive.

“Are you going to cum, baby?” He pecked your lips, hand reaching down to rapidly rub at your clit, enough to trigger your release.

“I’m coming!” Incoherent cries spilled from your lips, hips grinding up and down as Mark reached his height, the familiar white substance filling your walls satisfyingly.

He rode the both of you down from your climaxes, eventually coming to a stop as he laid on top of you, chests heaving and searching for breath. He held you in his embrace, where it felt like the world and its threats could not hurt you.

“I love you, too, Mark.” You gave him a short kiss, hugging him with appreciation as he nuzzled his face into your neck. “I love you, but tomorrow, I will beat the heck out of you, for leaving so many hickeys in the most visible places ever!”

“You weren’t complaining while I was making them!”

“Shut up.”

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[linkspooky]

A Mafia Member Who Doesn’t Kill

Bungou Stray Dogs chapter 88 has made it clear to me just how strong the Akutagawa and Odasaku parallels are. They are both orphans, raised to kill and taught their only value is the strength of their abilities that they use for killing, only to slowly unlearn that behavior over time. They are both characters who value life above everything else. I’m going to explore the connection more in depth, under the cut.

1. Origins

The temptation might be to parallel Oda to Atsushi, and Akutagawa to Dazai. Not only is Akutagawa Dazai’s first and direct disciple, and currently wearing his coat, but Atsushi has always been “the good one” of the pairing. The one obsessed with being good, and saving people in the way Oda was. Oda is also the closest thing Bungou Stray Dogs has to an example of living the life of “a good man” that all the main characters are currently striving for. However, I would say that it’s Akutagawa who parallels Oda’s life far more than Atsushi. 

Of course Akutagawa parallels Dazai’s life quite a lot as well.He was recruited by Dazai the same way Dazai was recruited by Mori,wears Dazai’s jacket as his most precious possession, but he shares so much in common with Oda too including his origin. 

In their youth they’re both referred to as killers who kill without showing any emotion. They start out completely empty and dead to all feelings inside, because neither of them have experienced anything to give them a reason to value life. 

Fukuzawa suddenly recalled a rumor he had heard about a young redheaded hit man who wielded two pistols, and killed his targets while never showing any emotions. - BSD LN 3

They both kill because they’re strong, and that’s all they’re seen as. Both boys, orphans with nothing else to live for have been gifted with incredibly strong abilities. They kill, they don’t relish in it, they don’t gain anything from it unlike men in positions of power like Mori Ougai because they are ultimately tools, but they kill nonetheless. 

“I’ve been working alone as an assassin for as long as I can remember,” he began. “I’ve never wanted friends or a boss... but seeing a martial artist like you compromise your principles to save one of your men... It makes me kinda jealous. He must be the happiest guy in the world to have you as a boss.” - BSD LN 3

They both start killing as a means of survival, because they are both orphans who have no one to care for them and look out for them. However, they also slowly over time begin to kill as a way to demonstrate their worth. Akutagawa was an orphan who lost the small amount of friends he was protecting, Oda had no organization he was working for, no connections their lives are utterly empty except for their strength so they come to understand killing as something that gives their life meaning and value. If only because there is nothing else for them. 

However, for both of them killing isn’t enough. It’s merely surviving not living. Which is why no matter how strong they become they both remain empty, and they both feel insufficient, and even jealous of others. Oda is jealous of Fuzukawa’s connection to his subordinate, Akutagawa is jealous of Atsushi who is valued and connected to everyone around him and treated better by Dazai. This jealousy is also a realization that they are missing something in themselves but they don’t know what. 

Most skilled hitmen looked down on others as if they were insects. Their eyes were cold and lacked compassion. But this boy’s were different. They weren’t cold or any temperature. They were just empty. Not only was there no compassion or kindness, there was no hate or passion to kill. His eyes were those of a person who had given up on hope and despair - the eyes of a person who had removed himself from emotional things. - BSD LN 3

Both Akutagawa and Oda start at a point where they are killing, not because they enjoy it, or they’re particularly sadistic, or think they are just or right. They kill because it’s the only thing they’re good at. They kill to demonstrate worth. 

This kid’s different from the old me. Perhaps he never felt any joy from killing others. He was probably only killing because he had nothing to do. - BSD LN3

This also plays into a fundamental misunderstanding that Atsushi has of Akutagawa. He basically views Akutagawa as a bully who kills people to flaunt his strength in front of others. 

He doesn’t realize that Akutagawa is strong yes, but that’s all he is. He clings to that strength, because he’s been given no other alternative. He hasn’t been given nearly the opportunities that Atsushi has. If there is a difference between Oda and Akutagawa, Akutagawa is noticably angrier, more resentful, but that’s because anger is the first emotion he ever definitely felt. 

I feel hatred.  I am no longer a dog. I have become a human being with feelings of my own. -’A Heartless Dog’

Akutagawa and Oda are both boys who lived considerably empty lives, that is until they meet somebody who shows them an alternative and changes their lives forever. Oda and Akutagawa meet someone and from then on they want to find meaning in their lives. 

2. An Assassin Who Doesn’t Kill

Akutagawa kills without hesitance, and yet I would say he’s the only character in the manga who values life as much as Oda does. This might seem like a paradox but both of their characters are built around this paradox. That’s why they become mafia members who do not kill. 

Akutagawa’s response to the old man in the latest chapter seems sassy, but Akutagawa’s never sassy, he’s overly serious and sincere about everything. He’s saying what he really thinks. All people are equally alive. Akutagawa is someone especially aware of the value of life, because in the past his life was treated as something so worthless. 

He was not afraid to die. He was thinking perhaps even hell would be a better place to live then here. JJust continuing to live in this state was suffering, after all. 

[...]

What’s the point of our lives? He had once asked travelers in their place this equestion. Why Must I go on living?

It’s because they have both lived through the absolute worst circumstances, that they value life more, and go on searching for these answers. Akutagawa equally treats life as worthless (kills people without hesitation) and also values life (tries to give people a reason to live, tries to justify his own life, tries to fight against the idea that someone from the slums lives a meaningless life). 

When Kyouka finds a reason to live even though he’s not the one that gave it to her, he’s genuinely happy for her. Because Akutagawa values life, and wants people to find a meaning in life even though he kills. 

Akutagawa is currently on the same path Oda is on. The lines in this scene are vague because they’re meant to apply to both Dazai and Akutagawa. He met a certain person, joined a certain organization, and the hope for death in his eyes vanished. 

Oda gave Dazai reason. Dazai gave Akutagawa reason. Oda was also given reason when he met Natsume. All three continue on with a life of empty killing until an outside force intervenes and teaches them there could be something more to life. 

They both come across someone who tells them that there is more to life than just killing. That they are capable of more than that, and they actually follow through and stop killing. Because, Akutagawa, and Oda deep down respect life. As cruel and heartless as they can be, Akutagawa is also one of the most heartfelt and respectful characters in the series when he opens up. 

Akutagawa and Oda are people who understand other people on a level deep down, because they’re genuinely interested in the lives of others. Akutagawa is the only person who thinks about Atushi in a deep way, in ways Atusshi doesn’t even really want to understand himself. Oda is the first person to treat Dazai like a person, behind the genius. They understand, even the ugly parts of people because they don’t really look away from the dark parts of the world, of life, because no one’s experienced life’s cruelty like they have. Oda sees Dazai for who he is, and tells him that helping people probably won’t make him feel good, and that he’ll never feel good, but he should help people anyway because he’s capable of doing good. 

Oda is the one who started the journey in an assassin trying to find meaning in life, but he didn’t finish it. In the end Oda’s character arc ends tragically, and his path is half finished. Because, Oda eventually chooses death. 

I think a lot of people don’t realize this character flaw of Oda, because he’s usually such a good example, but he chose to kill again, chose to become a martyr to Dazai because he genuinely gave up on living when it became too hard for him again. 

“Odasaku...” Dazai said softly. “Forgive me for the absurd wording, but - don’t go. Find something to rely on. Expect good things to happen from here on out. There’s gotta be something...” - BSD, Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era

Oda died because of tragic circumstances yes, but Oda also dies because he chose death. He chose the escape. He chose the easier path. There were still people that needed him even after he lost the orphans, people like Dazai, and Akutagawa who were orphans in need of help as well and Oda chose to let go of them. 

Oda gave up on his attempt to find meaning in life, because the best way to find meaning in life is simply by living it. 

‘People live to say themselves, it’s something they realize right before they die, eh?’ - BSD, Osasmu Dazai and the Dark Era

Oda chooses to die for the sake of someone else, rather than living for himself. While that’s a tragic choice it’s also a bad choice with consequences, because now there’s nobody around to help Dazai and Akutagawa who also appeared in light novel two and who both needed him to some extent. 

In that sense Akutagawa can be stronger than Oda. Their lives are parallels but they’re also exact opposites. Akutagawa starts out by losing every orphan he was trying to take care of. Oda finishes his life when he loses the orphans who he was trying to raise and protect. 

The choice they make in those moemnts is the opposite ones. Akutagawa tries to choose simply revenge at first the exact same way as Oda did, but when he meets Dazai he realizes there was something he wanted even more than revenge. 

The question resounded in Akutagawa’s heart, and a single answer floated to the surface. Something he qished for. His heart’s desire.  The lowest of the low. In a world that was the lowest of the low, it was a wih that could never possibly be granted.  Akuagawa had to force the words out of his dry, trembling throat. “I want to find a reason... a meaning to my life.” - SHORT STORY A HEARTLESS DOG

Akutagawa wants to live for himself, stronger than even Oda did. Whereas, Oda stops wanting everything. 

Dazai paused before continuing. “I would be able to find something - a reason to live.” 

I looked at him; he looked back at me. 

“I wanted to be a novelist.” I said. “I thought I wouldn’t deserve such a life if I killed someone during a mission. That’s why I never killed anyone. But that’s all in the past. There’s only one thing I want now.” - BSD VOLUME 2, Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era

Oda’s words to Dazai to conitnue to live are meaningful, but he’s also a hypocrite to those words. He tells Dazai to live on, when he made the choice to go off and die. While, Akutagawa as dirty, and arduous as his path is, is the one who keeps struggling to live no matter what like a stray dog starving in the streets.

Which is why Akutagawa is the one who is going to finish what Oda started so long ago, and be the true inheritor to his will. Utlimately, I predict, that’s the path his character development and arc are going to take him. 

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