#but absolutely not a scene I can dwell on I need to be past it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

humornaut · 11 months

Note

Hey, @basil-daisy here.

I just wanted to drop by because there's something that has been eating my insides for a long time and I can't get it out of my head.

I wanna talk about the scenes in Black Space, more precisely the scenes in the Church of Something, both the Sunny route and Omori route, although the Omori route one was really the one that made me think.

Have you ever thought about how the scene where Omori finally finds and "saves" Basil in the Omori route feels strangely like... A wedding?

It's not only the bridal style way Omori catches Basil. It's the way Basil lightly complains about Omori being late, the way they stop as Omori gives Basil his flower crown back and how directly after the act is interrupted by Stranger, who objects the whole "thing". A spectacle a bunch of "guests" witness.

I was always really curious about the church symbolism. For example the way Basil is stuck at the top of the church. I've tried really hard not to think about what usually is in the same place in churches because that comparison is making me die inside, even if it weirdly makes sense (Basil died for your sins U^U).

Besides that we have Sunny's interesting relationship with religion. Mainly that he probably feels insanely guilty. He feels judged by all the religious statues, moreover the snow angels, which are also one of my favourites, don't need to have the game tell us Omori feels judged by them. You feel it just by looking at their eyes.

The fact that Basil is in a church of all places is so telling too. Besides masses churches are known for holding weddings and, well, funerals. And in case of Faraway town's church is has a graveyard right behind it, where Mari lies.

I wonder if the scene in the Omori route is supposed to feel like a wedding but also double as a funeral (considering it marks the end of Stranger and his admittance of defeat that is actually a premonition of Basil's death in real life). It's one of the few scenes between routes that changes drastically and what it represents is absolutely fascinating.

What is really interesting also is that in the Sunny route the scene feels is completely different. It no longer feels like wedding. If anything it is just Basil begging for forgiveness, which does of course ties well with religion. But he's not begging for God's forgiveness, no, he's begging for his best friend's forgiveness.

I imagine this might be another way of showing us that Basil idolises Sunny as well as telling us that Basil feels really bad (what an understatement).

I also question if the Omori route scene is there to mirror the Sweetheart marriage scene somewhat, but I think I would need to dwell a bit more on that to come reach a proper conclusion.

Anyway, I hope you're having a lovely day! 💜

Wow, this is a really good ask! I'm going to break it down into a few different parts.

The Symbolism of the Church of Something

I think you are right on the money in how things go down in the Church of Something in the Omori route. The entire scene does almost play out as a wedding! Not just as a marriage to Headspace Basil, but as a final marriage to Headspace in general. After Sunny moves, whether or not he ever finds out about the fate of the real Basil, he has wholly become Omori. Stranger's objection does represent the last vestige of Sunny's mind trying to stop him from doing this; after all, saving the real Basil is the only loose end that Sunny really feels a responsibility for in a way that he can fix. He may want to see his other friends again, but he doesn't feel guilty for not doing so, because he feels he doesn't deserve it. Basil's a different story, because he knows he did Basil wrong for the selfish reason of protecting himself from his past.

To deepen the significance of this "wedding to Headspace Basil, and with it, a marriage to the concept of Headspace itself", I also want to point out that there is an implication that the end of Black Space in the Sunny route is not an end to the loop of Headspace, which won't happen until Sunny decides to shatter the light bulb on the next night. There is Stranger dialogue in the hub area that makes clear that killing the Basil that has seen the truth in Red Space is something that usually happens, and when you go there, you can find multiple of Basil's bodies littering the area. Instead, it's the Omori route that "breaks the loop of Headspace", via Stranger choosing to attack Sunny for abandoning Basil and the others.

That's not even mentioning the things that happen after this in the Omori route.

The flower crown that Headspace Basil gives to Sunny in the last Headspace Night in the Omori route provides twice as much HEART as the next best charm in that department (with those charms being the the Pretty Bow, a charm tied to Aubrey, and the Tulip Hairstick, a charm tied to Omori). The use of the word "precious" is also used in the Sunny route, in the description for Basil's Photo Album:

All three of these charms are only accessible in the Omori route, as well. The Pretty Bow item is only receivable after defeating Abbi, and is explicitly described as "too flashy for your taste".

Finally, so long as we are talking about weddings in Headspace, there is another thing that we would be remiss not to talk about. To go along with your mention of the Snow Angels (who have another interesting connection that I will go over later), the charm that you get from completing this area is the Wedding Ring.

As I've mentioned before, there are three different charms that allow the wearer to start happy, and they generally have fairly romantic connotations. First is the daisy, which both you and I understand is likely tied to Basil, but also has a romantic connotation due to the context of being a reward for assisting a character acquire a gift for their crush.

The second is one that I would also tie to Basil.

The Heart String is such an interesting little item, and the way it is tied to Basil isn't as immediately obvious as the Daisy. First off, this item is really easy to miss. You have to grab it during the chase section within Humphrey, and you can't go back to grab it afterwards to get it. There is also another item in the same area: the Blender weapon for Hero. This item immediately sets off alarm bells in my head, because smoothies (the only snacks in the list that are made in a blender) are snacks that are pretty clearly tied to Basil. Why make these two items into two of the only completely miss-able items in the game? And it doesn't evade my notice that shortly before Humphrey, where you find these charms, you have the Branch Coral, who makes another connection to Basil using the romantic image of a string.

Finally, the wedding ring is tied to Basil in another way, and that is what's going on in the area that you find it. Obviously, there is a negative association between Headspace Basil and the cold/snow, but there's also the fact that the ascent up Snowglobe Mountain is reminiscent of the leadup to the Church of Something in general, with the stairs and the snow. And regarding the Snow Angels, aside from the religious connotations behind them, there is another neat association. Take a look:

this was pointed out by someone in a discord server that I am in, and I unfortunately do not remember who at this point. Let me know if you see this and want credit!

I would argue that this similarity was intentional, as an older version of the game had White Egret Orchids looking much different, though I can't find a beta picture of Basil's house at this exact moment. These Snow Angels serve much the same purpose as Stranger in this route: being embodiments of Sunny's guilt for abandoning Basil and refusing to take responsibility for his sins. This takes place on the final night before Sunny moves, the same night that the real Basil chooses to end his own life. These are his final thoughts following Sunny into his dreams (whether you take this as literal or figurative).

One last thought on Basil in the Omori route before moving on: the Basil Rush, and how it’s the most explicit the game ever gets about how Sunny imagines his Basil's closeness.

Like, oh my goodness. The TAG photos didn't even need to exist, but they were put in anyway! And a little detail that goes unnoticed a lot, is that the hand-holding TAG photo is one in which Omori has initiated it! I think part of the tragedy of the Omori route is that it is most player's second playthrough (if they ever play it at all) and it is when the idea of Sunny and Basil having romantic feelings for each other starts being implied way heavier than before. Congrats! You got some heavy romantic subtext between the two boys. One of them is dead in the real world because you didn't save him.

Moving on!

The Religious Connotations of Headspace Basil

You didn't want to go into it very heavily, but I will: among other things, Sunny's dreamworld has turned Headspace Basil into a Christ-like figure.

Of course, there is his position in the Church of Something, but that's not all. He constantly wears a Flower Crown (crown of thorns, anyone?). In fact, Omori has to give Basil the Flower Crown back in the very first Black Space area, the Watermelon Area, seemingly as a preface for what's going to be happening with Headspace Basil throughout that portion of the game.

Look at what he says during the hide and seek game:

There's also the fact that in the Sunny route, we are looking at a game that takes place over three days and three nights after Basil disappears from Headspace, which I'm sure I don't have to point out the significance of.

This is a connotation that Sunny is making himself. Basil did not choose to take on Sunny's sins in real life, he expected that they would always be together. It was Sunny that decided to throw the responsibility of both of their sins on Basil, by choosing to forget. Basil will literally die for Sunny's sins in the real world.

Which brings us to the Flower Crown that Basil gifts to Omori after being rescued. Whether Sunny knows it or not, Basil has decided to end his own suffering in the real world. By gifting the flower crown to Omori, Headspace Basil has symbolically indicated that the situation has been reversed. Basil is no longer suffering for Sunny's sins, but Sunny is about to start suffering for Basil's. We are told numerous times throughout the game that Headspace is on its last legs. It's running out of places to hide the truth. We see Black Space leaking through almost everywhere, and the Basil Rush ends in a direct reminder of the day of the incident.

All that is to say, Headspace is seemingly going to fail, and soon. Black Space has grown too strong. If you ask me, it's only a matter of time until news of the real Basil's death has reached Sunny in the real world, and that will be the tipping point. From there on, assuming Sunny even decides to go on after that point, he will be living with the same weight that Basil did for those four years after Sunny left him, and there won't be anyone to save him.

The Sunny Route and Sweetheart's Castle

Finally, you mentioned how the scene goes in the Sunny Route. It should be noted, right after Stranger merges with the version of Basil there is the first time in the entire game that a version of Basil in Sunny's head refers to Sunny exclusively as his best friend, and from that point on, we will see that repeated in Sunny's mind. The room that Omori and Basil fall into prior to Red Space is one that we will see during the truth sequence, but it also appears in the Omori route, in a manner that we should discuss, as it ties into what you said about Sweetheart's Castle being connected. After all, the room that Omori and Basil falls into is the same room that Sweetheart's Castle turns into once you accept the Keeper of the Castle's deal, as I noted in my post about Sweetheart's Castle previously.

Sweetheart herself represents Sunny; both in his quest for presenting a perfect version of himself and his broken understanding of love, both of others and himself. Spaceboy represents the more "Omori" part of him; someone claiming to be above his emotions, but ultimately ruled by them. He even changes his name while he is in a relationship with Sweetheart. From this interpretation, we can extrapolate that their wedding in the castle is a representation of the Omori route's ending, right down to ending up on Snowglobe Mountain.

I also want to point out what happens right after this. You don't immediately just jump on down to the Lost Library. You try to leave, but right before you exit the area, you get the cutscene showing Stranger on the stage, leading you into the hole, meaning you literally need to walk down the aisle of an area explicitly designed for a wedding to follow Stranger into the Lost Library.

Whether or not you interpret Sunny and Basil as having romantic feelings for each other, this seems very symbolic of the fact that accepting and following Stranger (who I have previously described as the individual in which Basil's love of Sunny resides, be it romantic or platonic) is how you get to the truth. It's as if Sweetheart and Spaceboy's wedding represented the ending of Black Space in the Omori route, while what happens right after represents the ending of Black Space in the Sunny route. And like most of the ways Sunny remembers aspects of his history, the library is tied to Basil. Where the real Basil would provide books for Sunny to read, Stranger leads him to an entire library filled with books depicting his memories, both good and bad.

I hope you found all this interesting! I haven't really gotten the chance to talk about these things before, since I haven't really found the motivation to talk about them in their own post before! I hope you have a wonderful day as well! Time to go back to packing for my flight tomorrow!

#omori #omori analysis #omori spoilers #omori basil #omori sunny #omori sunflower #sunnflower #sunflower omori #omori stranger #black space #church of something #sweetheart's castle #snowglobe mountain #snow angels #what's going on with headspace basil is so interesting and i could talk about it for ages

501 notes · View notes

jesslockwood · 11 months

Text

Detecting the Haunted Masterlist

Chapter One

Non Request / Request

@hufflepuff1619 : Hello!! Can I please get a request for Lockwood & Co. The reader is a detective (I been reading lots of mystery books lately lol) and one day, she stumbles into Lockwood while she is trying to solve a crime and his charm doesn’t work on her and one day, he saves her from a ghost. Thank you! Have a good day.

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing(s): Anthony Lockwood x Detective!Reader

Warnings: a bit of Swearing, Talk of Gore, Blood, Mentions of Death, Mentions of a past M*rder/S*icide (not a lot of detail but still there), and a bit of Angst towards the end.

A/n: AHHH it’s my first Lockwood and co writing! I have plenty more coming too!!! I apologize I kind of rushed the ending but I was too excited to get this out lol. I hope you like this! This is now also going to be a series.

You hated him. You absolutely loathed his smug self who thought he could charm his way out of being in the way of a DEPRAC investigation. Your investigation. He had gone on a tangent of giving you nicknames like you were his significant other and trying to flirt his way out of trouble for the past twenty minutes, wasting your time.

“So you mean to say that you just stumbled your way into a murder scene, which I might add is trespassing at the minimum, and that was a crime scene with literal yellow tape all over.”

“Yes, That’s exactly what I'm saying. And The death glow in there is brighter than the golden radiance you give off, Love.”

Your face was hot from fuming over the idiot that was Anthony bloody Lockwood.

“You do know, Mr. Lockwood, that although hired from an independent source, this is a DEPRAC case. And it is my case. And in this case, you’ve probably contaminated all the evidence now for us. Now you need to tell me who hired you?”

“Unfortunately I can’t say. Client privilege with our agency. I can tell you they're afraid of whoever was out there trying to get them and by the looks of it’s not only the body here, there’s definitely a haunting. Yes, the body may be a part of your investigation, but my Team was hired for the other problem in this house.” he says as smoothly as a snake.

“Well then perhaps you should be arrested for withholding information.”

He thinks for a moment, “Let's strike a deal. If we get to clear the house and make it safe, I’ll give you a name.”

“And why should I strike a deal with you? I last heard of your agency when you burned down Mrs. Hope’s house.”

“Well, you need a discreet agency, especially in what I’m assuming is a high-profile case like this, plus, I’ll even let you come in with us to make sure we don't burn it down.”

You couldn't think of a reason to say no. Especially if there was a haunting, your team wouldn't be safe.

“Fine. but if there isn't anything I’ll know.”

You both start walking towards the house with his associate Lucy in tow.

“Curious, how would you know? Some sort high tech of DEPRAC equipment, darling?” he inquires.

“No, I have talents.”

He looks almost slightly shocked that you said it.

“I have Touch and Sight mainly. Sights more of my strong suit.”

He nods smiling, “Same here. Guess it was meant to be.”

You roll your eyes at that.

“How’d you even get into detective work then? I'm assuming you never did agency work, as the only time I’ve heard of you was for your exemplary detective work, and you don't look older than myself,” he asks.

“Cut the charm, Lockwood.” you pause to take a deep breath before telling them, “Long story short, My father was a detective, and before he went undercover, He made me promise I wouldn't sign up for an agency. He knew the work all too well, having worked as one himself long ago. So I didn't. I still had the itch to do something with my talents, so I signed myself up to work for DEPRAC.”

“How’d he take it?”

“Not sure.” you stop at the door not wanting to dwell on his death, “What’s in your kit? I’m hoping for no Greek fire.”

You try to not snort when he slowly opens his long jacket proving he had some.

“If you use that, just know, I will have to arrest you.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” he mutters under his breath, before opening the duffle bag. You see what he has and give an approving nod.

The sun was starting to go down and it was nearing curfew.

“James, tell everyone to clear out. But everyone needs to come back at dawn, sharp.” You order your colleague.

He nods, looking skeptical, before getting everyone to pack up their things and leave.

You three enter the house, the draft was definitely there. And Lockwood was right, the death glow on the body was there, but fading as your team neutralized the body in the entryway, to make sure it wouldn't come back.

“I swear to god if you touch this body and ruin the evidence, I’ll make sure you never work again,” you say to the both of them.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of touching it.” Lucy grimaces looking at it.

“Right, Lucy, see if you can hear anything near, Y/n, you stay close to me and I’ll get you up to speed on the information we have on this case.”

You nod, as he starts filling you in about how the person who was living with the man here, was in an abusive relationship with him, and eventually, the woman sliced her significant other, before turning on herself with the blade. The home used to be an in-home business, a barber shop the man used to run. The house was renovated before the problem started, to be a glamorous home, until something started stirring.

You shudder only imagining what could’ve been lurking.

“Care to share about that death?” He asks, pointing to the body.

“The body you see is fresh. The neighbors called it in after hearing a gunshot this late afternoon, so it definitely isn't from the manifestation, and we still don’t have all the facts as to what happened, but we do know he’s a relic man.” You inform him.

“Gunshots overall are unheard of, and in this neighborhood? Very Odd.” he ponders, inquisitively looking you directly in your eyes. It caught

“Yeah, yeah, 'cause the only guns you think of are your non-exist ones.” you joke, trying to divert the burning in your cheeks, as it felt like his eyes were looking into your soul.

he put a hand over his heart, saying Ouch, but your focus was up the huge stairway. It was marbled tiled, all the way up, with a substantial curved staircase against the wall, with an old, detailed metal railing, that looked once to be gold.

You were now assuming they were getting paid a pretty penny for this job, whoever this was paying them. Something felt off up there. You couldn't pinpoint it, but it made your stomach churn.

“Shall we?” he points to the stairs.

“Shouldn’t we wait for-”

“Lucy? Trust me if something happens Lucy will hear it. She is the best listener or eavesdropper in London.”

“Heard that!” she yells across the room, “I’ll be right behind you, I just want to check that last room to see if the temperature drops, which I doubt it will” she reassures you.

Lockwood hands you a torch and your hands brush, giving you goosebumps, before you both start heading up, with him behind you slightly.

“Just remember to turn off the torch so it’s easier to see death glows, and if you see anything, don’t panic, just let me know since I have the rapier.” he winks, with his sly smirk. You couldn’t think of a good response to that, so you kept walking up, feeling colder by the minute.

Your breathing became heavier, due to the freezing nature of the stairway as you walked up, looking around for signs of anything.

As soon as you hit the landing, you touched the railing, feeling a sharp sensation on your palm.

You looked at your hand and nothing was wrong with it.

“Alright, love, turn off your torch, I see something at the end of the hall, you stay close to these first few rooms.”

You nod, agreeing but feeling weary of the idea of splitting up. You sigh turning off your torch.

He wanders closer to the death glow at the end of the huge hall before you look into a room near you, you feel something take over you, as you wander into the room. As you stepped into the room you start walking on broken glass and tears started coming out of your eyes as you felt sorrow run through you, like when your dad had died. But you couldn't control yourself at all.

You pick up a piece of glass, squeezing it so tight, your hand had started bleeding. You turned around, raising the glass up to yourself, but before anything could happen, you felt yourself being grabbed and tumbled into the wall where you could see Lockwood, holding your wrists, and you dropped the glass.

You look directly at him, shaken up a bit.

“Was I?”

“Yeah, you were ghost locked,” he says looking into your eyes, before wiping the tears from your face the proximity of his face was so close to yours as he examined you. That alone gave you goosebumps.

He notices the blood from your hand, moving his head and reaching up, and before he could do or say anything, you peered over his shoulder, to see the ghost of a woman coming straight for you.

“Look out!” you yell as you quickly shove yourself and Lockwood away from the wall, tumbling you both to the ground, out of her way and you fall on top of him. You're almost breathless as you quickly roll off of him, grabbing a salt bomb from his belt, before throwing it directly at her as she screams and disappears for the moment.

Lockwood grabs his rapier and unsheathes it, before quickly getting to his feet, as a precautionary

he helps you get up to your feet.

“Thanks for you know, saving me,” you say, as gently grabs your hand to examine it.

“Same to you. I think I’d be ghost touched if it wasn't for you.” he pauses before saying, “I think you should go home.” he says looking away, almost avoiding your gaze as if you could read his soul if you looked.

“Why? We do have an agreement, so where is this coming from?” You ask before he pulls out a handkerchief wrapping it around your hand.

Before he could say anything, Lucy interrupts, “Lockwood, I think I found the source’s area-”

she pauses almost looking like she was a deer caught in headlights, like just trespassed into a private moment.

“Do you two need a moment?”

“No, I was apparently going home,” you say harsher than you thought it would come out.

“Y/n I-”

“Just do your Job, and Report back to James tomorrow.”

“I'll Walk you out,” Lucy says, before following you down the stairs.

“I know Lockwood can seem harsh, but I think you should know it has more to do with himself than you. I think he likes you, a lot, and when he cares for someone, he wants them to be safe. Just try to remember that.” she tries to console you before giving you a hug as you leave.

You see James waiting in his car outside, and you roll your eyes, before getting in.

“You seriously couldn't leave?” you laugh.

“C’mon like I could. I can’t leave you in the company I don't know. Plus I did technically leave for a bit, to get this,” he gives you a brown bag with all your favourite goodies in it.

“Thanks, James, you’re the best.”

As you drive away, you couldn't help but worry about the boy that saved you. Not just physically but he brought back the spark in you that you thought was gone. The one that you thought had died with your father.

“Hey, James, maybe it’s time I looked at my Dad’s file.”

“You don’t mean?”

“I do. I need to know how he died undercover.”

You say, before looking down at the handkerchief on your hand that Anthony Lockwood gave you.

Taglist: @waitingforthesunrise

#anthony lockwood #Anthony Lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co #save lockwood and co #locknationscomediansday #locknaitons comedians day #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood fic #anthony lockwood fanfiction #anthony lockwood fanfic #anthony lockwood oneshot #renew lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #lw&co #lw&c

92 notes · View notes

ceruleanskiesss · 4 months

Text

Fuck it, I’m rewriting this to be more canon complainant. I like it though, so I’ll just rewrite the scenes to fit the new storyline. Yall can have this unfinished bit cause I really don’t have the heart to finish it knowing imma rewrite it rn, so be left in suspense.

CW/TW: Copious angst, Bhaalspawn typical violence, hurt with a little bit of comfort but mostly hurt, slight sh ig but it’s not like, a thing, feel like I should still warn yall tho. Fic ends REALLY ABRUPTLY, IM SORRY.😭😭😭

Enjoy lmfao

Today was not a good day. Rhyse had been lightly ignoring Gortash for weeks; it wasn’t his fault, this time. You see, the two had been allied for somewhere around 3 years, quite a significant amount of time for Rhyse. Gortash was the first person that his father, the god Bhaal, had allowed him to be this close too…. well.. allowed was a strong word. Bhaal tolerated the two, or, at least, he did.

Rhyse first noticed it weeks ago, his Urges getting stronger around the tyrant, even after he’s more than satisfied his kill quota, and his nightmares were worse, more… real, almost threatening for Gortash to end up like his long gone adopted family. He suspected his father was punishing him for getting nowhere with the heist, to steal the Crown of Karsus, in weeks. (A plan the two were not so subtly elongating. The truth was, the two quite enjoyed the comfort the added time together had brought them, though, neither would openly admit it.)

He got his confirmation around a week ago, plain as day, from Bhaal himself. ‘Gortash was no longer beneficial to the cult, kill him’. Rhyse, of course, tried to refute, pleaded, their plan for ‘The Absolute’ had only just begun. He spoke of the souls it would bring his father, he hadn’t forgotten about their grand plan, he promised. It would still be him alone in the end, and then none, but until then let him live.

Bhaal would hear none of it, and frankly, Rhyse was terrified. He knew his father would have to see reason eventually, he wanted Orin, his sister, gone too, before Rhyse found a use for her. No, Rhyse was afraid that by the time his father would even hear him out, his tyrant would be long gone.

It was killing Rhyse to ignore Gortash’s letters, delivered to his windowsill by his Crow, Carrion, or even into Rhyse’s head through the sending spell, and Gortash hated using sending spells, he was clearly growing more desperate, the letter’s contents were getting more sporadic.

Rhyse knew he needed to confront the man head on, he wasn’t sure how bad his urges would be affecting him, but from previous experience… well, Rhyse didn’t like dwelling on the past. No, best to meet with Gortash now, while he is still, mostly, in his right mind.

Rhyse takes no weapons with him, but he doubted it would matter, his bare claws would be more than enough to take care of Gortash, he just hoped the tyrant had enough sense to properly defend himself. Rhyse scratches his Direwolf, Marrow, as he leaves, but he would not dare bring the beast with him. A ranger’s companion has a unique bond with the ranger's soul, it can fein death as long as the ranger is alive, but in exchange, it also gets some of the bhaalspawn’s… quirks. He knows from experience the urges affect his precious companion too, and he wasn’t willing to risk Gortash’s life over it.

Rhyse arrived at Gortash’s estate not long before noon, as he misty stepped into Gortash’s office with no sound more than a click. It took the man a moment to even notice Rhyse was there, his deeply sleep deprived eyes scanning some legal scroll, it’s only until Rhyse flicks his tail against a metal candelabra that Gortash’s eyes shoot up.

“Rhyse!” the man's voice fills with equal amounts of relief and anger, and worry. Rhyse waited to get chewed out by the man, already knowing he definitely deserved most of it. “Where in the Hells have you been!? You haven’t given me so much as a note, a ‘hey by the way I’m not fucking dead’ In weeks! The only thing I had to go off of that you were even receiving anything I was sending was your damned pigeon!” He pauses finally to take a sharp inhale, clearly running out of energy to stay upset, “And- And now you just ‘appear in my office’? Like nothing happened? I expect a damn good explanation from you.” He sighs, and laces his fingers through his obsidian black disaster of a haircut.

“Good to see you too” Rhyse basically collapses in a chair, he sees Gortash’s eyes dart across Rhyse’s body, searching for any insight on the situation.

“Where. Were. You.” Gortash snarls, his eyes narrow on the tiefling.

Rhyse pauses, he can’t exactly tell Gortash ‘Oh hey, funny story, dear old dad wants you dead’ but he can’t bring himself to lie to him, not with the two so ragged, emotions raw and strained, even though lying would be so easy, so simple. They could pretend to be normal, if only for a moment. “I- It’s… It’s complicated, okay?” Rhyse pauses, unsure of what to say. “My urges have been… inconvenient as of late. It was easier this way.”

“Easier!? Rhyse I-” Gortash sighed, and forced himself to relax in his chair, “Gods you are a nightmare sometimes. Just… Just tell me all you can, it’s not good for either of us if you’re ignoring me, so just spit it out.”

Rhyse chuckles slightly, it would be better for both of them, actually. At the very least for the tyrant, and as long as he’s safe, well, Rhyse can deal. He thinks about how to broach the subject with the man, the fragile, horrible truth, that could mean losing him forever. “I- You know how my Father is. He’s… not seeing the bigger picture, currently. But I have a- GH!” Rhyse’s blood goes hot, mind clouded with the overwhelming urge to wrap his claws around Gortash’s throat. He forces his talons to meet his forearms instead, in a futile attempt to subside the rush, to drown it out with pain of his own. “Oh hells” he muttered through gritted teeth, and bowed his head down, squeezed his eyes closed. He could wait it out, he wasn’t going to let his urges get the better of him.

He felt Gortash’s hand lightly trace his bloodstained fingertips, felt some part of himself that wasn’t quite his own growl at the touch, he fought every urge to rip his calloused fingers from his hands. “You weren’t exaggerating.” He said, tone laced with concern, and placed his hand firmly on the Bhaalspawn’s, forcing it to loosen slightly. “Who does your father want dead? It’s not- Hells is it me?”

Rhyse shrinks into himself. “Look I- nothing’s going to happen to you. I can control myself.” He bit back through the bloodlust, the worst of it fading from his mind. Rhyse eased slightly, and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “I don’t know what I’m going to do” he chuckled grimly. Rhyse met Gortash’s eyes, far too calm for their current situation. It would be so much easier if Gortash hated him, feared him. Gortash was the first person he’d allowed himself to get close to since coming to the Bhaal temple, first person that was his, not his fathers. Part of himself agreed with his father, he had gotten soft, but maybe- maybe that wasn’t the worst thing.

“We.” Gortash reminded, “What are we going to do, because you are not going to ignore me like that again.” the man commanded, Rhyse wished he had that kind of confidence.

“Right, We.” He looked away, he wished so desperately the two could be we, be each other’s, but Rhyse belonged to Bhaal, and Gortash to Bane, they weren’t allowed to be any more. “We should work on that heist. It will be easier to convince him once I have concrete proof it’s possible.”

Gortash nodded. “Of course,” he got up from his chair to bring a stack of books and maps to his desk, Gortash grabbing a hefty tome detailing Mephistopilese’s layer, and Rhyse finished a chart of the journey. Neither could find a map of the archive’s insides, but they did find descriptions of hidden passageways, and traps.

Rhyse paused, and moved the map closer to Gortash “You think we could use a spell to get in through this window? Using an Interdimensional Gateway spell possibly?” He examined the map further, it should be old enough to have limited security, but from there they could find a passageway into the inner archives.

“Hm…” Gortash thought for a moment, “Maybe, but what if there’s spell detection? He is a wizard, it would be protected… wouldn’t it?”

“Hah! But that’s the thing!” Rhyse grinned, and he pulled out a tattered journal from the stack, and flipped to a sequence of stitched in notes detailing security protocols. “See here, there’s only portal detection to get into the archives, because over here-” he grabbed the man’s hand and traced it to a small clearing, nearby, separated physically, yes, but near enough that anti magic systems would be counterproductive. “Is where the Archivists mages train. Which means the radius can’t extend farther than about… here.” He uses Gortash’s finger to draw an arc, and points his free hand to a spot just outside of it, “This is where we get inside. I know, don’t thank me.” Rhyse chuckles, proud of his work.

Gortash stared at him, eyes wide “That’s- That’s what we’re missing. You’re Brilliant!”

“We’re brilliant.” He says, quoting the tyrant’s previous words. Neither could’ve gotten anywhere near this close without the other, but together, together they were unstoppable. The two continued like this, bouncing ideas back and forth, enjoying the others' company until nightfall.

“-Anyways, if we use this hidden passageway, this tome says there may be an exit leading right to- Is your tail wagging?” Gortash’s ramble stopped abruptly at the realization. Wait was it?- Gods it was, Rhyse willed his tail to stop.

“I- What are you talking about?” He lied, Gortash was never going to let him live this down, Rhyse knew it.

The man burst into cackling laughter, “Gods, it was! Are you embarrassed?” Gortash sneered.

“Shut the fuck up, not a word.” Rhyse huffed, feigning being upset, holding back his own laughter. For a moment, it felt like it was just the two of them in the world, no priorities, no responsibilities, no Orin, or Severok, or Bhaal-

A treacherous thought, immediately punished by a surge of bloodlust. He tried everything in his power to keep it down, keep it under control. “Dammitdammitdammitdammit Fuck!” He fell back from his chair to the cold hard stone, and pushed his back with force into the nearest wall. His vision went blurry and red, his hearing clouded by the rush of his own blood. Claws raked through his raven hair, his breathing grew unsteady, his muscles urged to gut the man open, to hold the heart in his hands and crush it, watch the blood and gore drip down. Stopitstopitstopitstopit, keep it under control, he had too.

“-yse, Rhyse! Rhyse gods damn it!” he heard the tyrant rush over to his side, wasn’t in control of himself when he felt his claws sink into the man's shoulder. “Hey, you’re alright, breathe.” But the Bhaalspawn wasn’t in control of himself. He ripped the coat from the tyrant, and immediately Rhyse saw Gortash’s eyes flash genuine fear. The Urge relished in the man's fright, but it only made Rhyse fight back harder. Rhyse heard the man’s voice waiver as he attempted to comment wittily, but couldn’t even manage that. “I-” The Urge growled and sunk Rhyse’s claws into Gortash’s neck.

Right as he was about to finish the man off, he regained control and stumbled back. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck oh Hells.” He tried to calm his own breathing, but all his immediate attention was on Gortash. Rhyse rushed forward slightly, preparing a cure wounds spell for Gortash, but stopped immediately when he saw the man flinch.

After a second, Gortash sat up and chuckled grimly, unable to meet the Bhaalspawn’s eyes. “Gods, for a moment, I thought I was really going to die.” Gortash allowed himself to be healed. Even without his coat, he was an expert at hiding his emotions, but Rhyse heard his voice elevate, the waver in his words.

“I shouldn’t have come.” Rhyse growled, mostly to himself, how could he have been so stupid, thinking he could fight his own father, his very blood. Once Gortash was healed Rhyse immediately got up to leave, but he felt a hand grab his wrist. “Gortash, let go.”

“You don’t plan on returning, do you? Is this really it? Our plan, everything we’ve built towards, is this really where you want it to end” The tyrant nearly pleaded, it’s unbecoming of a Chosen of Bane. His hidden words, his broken eyes, ask a different question, Is this where we end? Like they ever ‘began’ in the first place, but it nearly made Rhyse break. How could he still care about him? Rhyse nearly killed him.

“Let. Go.” Rhyse snarled. Let go of him, his memory, move on, it will hurt less. Rather cut their losses now, than watch the dagger twist through his ribcage, tears pouring down as the tyrant’s heart stops.

“When do you plan on returning? Because you will return.” He grips the Tieflings wrist tighter, Rhyse could rip that pretty hand off his wrist with no more than a well placed yank.

“Let go. I will not warn you again.” He tugs his arm, but makes no real effort to break free.

Oops, there’s the end :/ I have beef with tumblr for fucking up all my formatting but I’m on mobile so I can’t do anything about it.

#durge #durgetash #enver gortash #goretash #durge oc #bg3 #fanfic

13 notes · View notes

scoonsalicious · 20 days

Note

Mother Pookie has fed her kitties well🩷🩷. There’s so many emotions idk which one i should talk about first?😭😂

BUT DANG chap 2.2 is just HOT

I am actually speechless😂 I have nothing to say except I am satisfied.

ITS SO GOOD OMG POOKIE? WHAT R U DOING TO ME? WHATT?!!😫😫

Lemme say, It didn’t take me long to hate Lilian. Like I swear, the moment she fucking said that Major looks like a SKANK gurl, fuck u.

My first impression on Major was like how Bucky saw her, a hot pretty dame that made me giggle like a teenager, making heart eyes and singing the whole world to my dick (if i have a dick)

And then throughout the chp, oh my goodness, I would’ve slap Leah the moment she starts bitching up. Major has a dang ass patience. I couldn’t.

THE THINGS I WOULD DO TO VOTE FOR BUCKYBABY TO BREAK HER HEART IN THE WORST WAY POSSIBLE (so far she’s 35% in my ‘dead’ list, better fix ur attitude if u don wanna end up like cunthage — ITS JUST BEEN 2 CHP?!)

Lindsay rubs the ick on me more than Jade (ofc Jade is worse but she dead now) but cuntly is so so so so so so so so so irritating. The absolute pick me, so called ‘one of the guys’. Ew. Even half of the team is irked by her attitude. That just says a lot.

Glad that our queen Major put her in her place. She needs more. Like, absolute humiliation (disclaimer: i dont support bullying but LILIAN FUCKING NEEDS IT)

And can we appreciate Wanda simping over Thor?😂 (you are not alone, i also dream of licking his abs — mhmmm)

Bucky and Major are purrrfect for each other. Its giving love at first sight 👀. Bucky simps hard. Like so hard. I can wait for more Bucky X Major scene (fluff,sexay — mayyybeeeee angst? i just love hurt myself)

Also, iMajor and Tony r absolutely gonna be ‘rich business badass besties’ and then them + Sam (Wanda and Nat at the back) roasting Leah. Oh what a beautiful dream~

Anyways, beautiful beautiful writing indeed. Waiting to see Bucky sexay POV next😂 Unleash the power of your blue balls. Also I can’t wait to read what your master brain had planned🌚. Love you Pookie🩷🩷🩷

PS// these past few days I was scrolling tumblr, searching for new Bucky fics/updates and honestly… I MISSED YOUU!!! I CANNOT STRESSED THAT ENOUGH!!! 😭 seeing your username the first thing when i opened tumblr made my night! i was planning on listening to songs, dwelling on my loneliness and delulu but LOOK AT ME NOW, ITS 4AM GOSH. THANK U POOKIE LOVE U HAVE A GREAT DAY

POOKIE! <3

Actual footage of me coming up to love on your comments:

I'm so glad people are enjoying 2.2! I gotta be real, I usually don't get hot and bothered when it comes time write smut, but that section? Whoa, boy... that section had me like:

(Yes, this is my second favorite gif of all time, and I will use Blanche to express my hot and bothered-ness whenever I can, lol)

I gotta tell you right now, the phrase "making heart eyes and singing the whole world to my dick (if i have a dick)" is now the highlight of my week, so I thank you for this. It's pure literary magic <3

Major is used to taking shit from peons; she was a woman in the military, after all, lol, which is why she's able to not let Lily phase her too much. Her patience will be tested, though. Where Cunthrage was just flat out unhinged, Lizard is more... selfishly insidious? Just, you know, she's not going to be kidnapping people and snapping their arms or murderously rampaging through Hydra bases or anything. (The stakes here are much, much lower, lol. Which, I guess, is going to prep us for Unbroken, where the stakes will be... Thanos-sized, lol.) I think what makes Lily feel worse, to me, is that she's far more realistic than Jade was. Like, I know girls like Lily irl; thankfully, never met a Jade (phew!). Much like Killgrave, to me, is the scariest Marvel villain, because I've encountered so many men like him in the real world.

The things I dream of doing to Thor would probably get me put on a list if he was a real person and not a fictional character, lol. Unless I'm doing AUs, I tend to stick with canon-pairings, but there is something about the idea of Wanda/Thor that I currently find very appealing, so hopefully, we will see something happen between the two of them. I think they would be adorable. And for some reason known only to my maker, I love making Wanda a little bit horny, lol. In fact, an earlier draft of Unwanted had Pocket referring to her as the Sokovian Horndog after she made some comments about Bucky's body, lol.

Is it weird that I don't plan on having Tony be too involved in this fic, because I feel like giving him a friendship with Major is like him cheating on his friendship with Pocket? That makes no sense whatsoever, lol, but I'm so protective of my girl. I'm like "Yeah, Major, I'll let you fuck Pocket's boyfriend, Bucky, but YOU CANNOT BE FRIENDS WITH HER PSUEDO-BROTHER TONY BECAUSE HE IS HERS!"

Bucky's got some sexy POV in the next sextion (see what I did there? lol) but there's going to be so much more smut in this one than Unwanted. It just feels right, lol.

8 notes · View notes

0perfectimperfections0 · 1 year

Note

I think it would be interesting if you'd made an au where the dolls see that they have also wronged Lou and should of given him a 2nd chance. So they now try to earn his trust. From styling his hair to how it originally was and giving him more comfortable clothing to trying to talk to him more. But it's very hard to do so because the former leader is now depressed, anxious, and jumpy. He closes himself off and vows to never trust any doll ever again.

And maybe another au where Lou is very smart and manipulative and everything goes his way.

Btw I love your fics, I've searched everywhere to find good Lou angst and you make my day. Thank you for keeping the fandom alive.

Awww, you're so sweet! I'm glad you enjoy the stories! I've also heard you've found my friend @natalie-the-writer 's account. Her stories are absolutely AMAZING! She has such amazing attention to detail and can make any scene feel so real in your imagination. If you haven't already, I HIGHLY recommend reading through all of her stories on her profile. They're awesome!

And since I've gotten an ask similar to the latter portion of your ask, this one will revolve around the former prompt. Brace yourself, this will be longer (for the first time in forever XD).

<><><><><><>

The dolls prided themselves in how fluidly everything seemed to be running at the Institute. It was like Ox had said: they didn't need Lou. From an outside perspective, everything seemed to be going about splendidly. More importantly, everyone was happy.

Moxy hummed a made-up tune to herself as she walked down the winding sidewalks of the villa. Dolls -- with happy smiles, she was pleased to note -- waved and offered their own greetings as they swept by each other. She found her best friend, Mandy, and hopped in front of the doll's path with an enlightened expression. "Hey, Mandy!"

"Hi," the female offered a small smile of her own. "Have you seen Nolan anywhere? I haven't been able to find him."

Nolan. Did she know a Nolan? There were so many dolls that it was difficult to remember all of their names. Mandy must have caught on to her perplexed face because she soon elaborated. "Has the sign around his neck? Brown hair? Green and purple eyes? Kinda tall?"

For such a specific description, Moxy would've thought herself to be quick with a revelation. Unfortunately, that description didn't fit any of the dolls she had grown to be close friends with in the past few months. "Mmm, sorry. I don't think I know a Nolan." She admitted guiltily. "But!" She swung a short leg out to proceed in the direction Mandy had been going in, "I can help you find him!" Then she would know who Nolan was and all would be splendid again.

Mandy accepted the offer silently and walked in what seemed to be an aimless direction. However, she had a specific destination in mind. Nolan had mentioned a few times in conversation about a certain doll that she'd rather not bring up in front of...well, anyone else. So, unbeknownst to Moxy, Mandy had them set toward the old wooden shed near the back of the Institute. Now that she dwelled on it, they hadn't seen Lou in quite some time.

Her theory proved fruitful when she recognized the brunette outside of the abandoned shed. Abandoned to others, not to Lou. Moxy's pace slowed down to a stop even as Mandy proceeded on. "The shed? Why would Nolan be here?" Her question wasn't answered. Mandy didn't really have a sound answer to it either.

Nolan had made his vigil just outside the closed door. He sat on the ground, knees drawn to his chest to rest his head on, and back pressed against the door. There was a plate of food set beside him. Mandy's footsteps caught his attention before he could say anything. Quickly, he put a finger to his mouth to warn her to be quiet. His eyes went to Moxy as she finally walked closer. "What are you guys doing here?" He asked, keeping his voice just above a whisper.

"Looking for you," Mandy answered. "What are you doing here?"

Nolan cast a short glance at the plate of food beside him. It had grown cold, now. "No reason. Maybe I like the peace and quiet." Mandy shook her head and sat down on the other side of the plate. She tapped a piece of bacon experimentally.

"I'm guessing this wasn't for you." Nolan didn't respond. "How many days has it been?"

"Five. Six, if you count today." Nolan sighed.

"What are we counting?" Moxy tilted her head at them.

The Pretty Dolls exchanged glances. Mandy spoke. "How many days it's been since Lou came out of the shed."

"He hasn't been cleaning?" Moxy looked taken aback.

"You haven't noticed he hasn't been around?" Nolan's eyes went a little hard at that. It was the closest to a glare Mandy had seen him pull off. Moxy stuttered out an excuse of some sort, but he brushed it off. "You two can go. He doesn't like having so many people around. It's just been me for the past week."

"How did you know he was locked up in the shed?" Moxy asked. Had she missed a sign or something? Were the other dolls talking about him? She hadn't heard a single mention of the blond since his downfall.

Nolan visibly refrained from rolling his eyes. Instead, he flicked at an imaginary piece of lint on his knee. "Well, he doesn't exactly have the looks to blend into the background. He stands out pretty well on his own." There was an audible bite to his tone that Mandy silently acknowledged and Moxy took no note of. "I came here the first day I noticed he was missing. The door's been locked and he put a tarp over the window to keep from anyone looking inside."

"Maybe he's plotting something," Moxy brought a hand to her chin in thought.

The brunette tried not to bristle at that comment. He closed his eyes, eyebrow raised indignantly. "Like I said, you two can leave. I've managed to get him to unlock the door and I don't need anyone undoing all that progress."

"If the door is unlocked, why don't you just go in?" Mandy blinked up at the potential entryway.

"Because I want him to be the one to open the door. This is the only place he can go without being pushed around by the other dolls -- in case you haven't noticed that either." Nolan sent a look over to Moxy. She shrunk a bit under the tone. "This is his safe place now, and I don't want to intrude on it. If I'm going to make any progress, I need him to be the one to let me in."

Moxy drummed her fingers against her side, eyeing the door that could easily be walked through. "You make it sound like he's scared or something. I'm sure he's just sitting in there pouting and refusing to carry out his punishment." Nolan's jaw clenched, but he kept his mouth shut lest any harsh words are said by him. "Let's just go in there and tell him to get back to work." She stepped up and turned the knob before Nolan or Mandy could stop her.

A concentrated form of light entered the dark room. It revealed the particles of dust floating aimlessly in the air. She waved off a few visible ones and noticed the small figure hunched in the corner of the room near the door. She had been about to say something but stopped short when she realized something was off.

Lou didn't move at all from his position despite her bombarding him. He had been seated similarly to Nolan: legs were drawn up to his chest tightly, feet angled inward, arms wrapped around them, and head resting on his knees. She couldn't see his face with the mess of tangled, blond hair draping over his arm. He seemed to have his head laying to the side, facing away from her.

Before Moxy could take a step toward him, Nolan startled her by appearing in front of her path. "You need to get out. He doesn't want to be around anyone. Especially you."

Moxy was taken aback. "Wh--What did I do?"

"Is that a serious question?" Nolan finally let himself bristle as he glared down at her.

Mandy pulled on the pink doll's arm. "Moxy, let's leave. Nolan can handle it from here."

"Handle what?" A new voice sounded behind them. Ox tilted his head at the group from outside the shed. "What are ya'll doin' here? And where's Lou been? I ain't seen 'im in almost a week."

"Huh," Nolan couldn't help but comment wryly as he looked down at Moxy again, "even Ox noticed." Moxy merely shrunk in more guilt. Perhaps she had been a little too blinded by all the smiles and positivity of the other dolls that she neglected to check in on Lou.

Ox ignored the two and stepped inside, seeing the ex-leader curled up in the corner. "Lou? What's wrong?" Nolan couldn't get a word out to tell him to step back before the bunny was in front of the doll. Ox put a paw on Lou's head to try and brush away the hair, but Lou flinched away. "Lou, talk to me."

"He doesn't want to talk," Nolan clarified sharply. "And you guys are making it worse by invading his space."

"I agree," Mandy tugged harder on Moxy's arm. "So, let's give Lou some space, Moxy." The pink doll finally relented and walked out with the Pretty Doll.

Ox didn't move from his spot. He watched Lou's hands clutch at his pants tighter. Was...he really upsetting Lou just by being here? The thought sent a sharp pain through his chest. Nolan's gaze prompted him to finally stand and part ways. He sent one last look to the doll in the corner before walking out of the shed. Nolan made a step toward the doorway until he heard rhythmic tapping from where Lou was. He paused and listened.

Tap-Tap-Tap...Tap...Tap-Tap...Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap

Nolan abandoned the doorway and kneeled in front of Lou. His hand was leaning against the side of the building, tapping. Lou still didn't look up. Nolan pulled out his phone and hit the record. "One more time, Lou, please?"

Tap-Tap-Tap...Tap...Tap-Tap...Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap

The message was translated on the phone. Nolan had first heard the organized tapping a few days ago when Lou was aware of his vigil. It initially sounded like a song that Lou was tapping to the beat of, but the repetition of the taps didn't follow along to a song. It was morse code. Nolan didn't know how or when Lou had learned the cryptic language, but the translator on his phone helped them communicate. Nolan read the result:

Stay.

Just to be sure. "You want me to stay?"

A second of silence.

Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap...Tap...Tap-Tap-Tap

Nolan knew that one due to their limited "conversations" between the door. It was 'yes'.

"Okay," Nolan kept his voice soft. "Give me a minute to get them to leave." He stood and leaned out of the doorway. The others were waiting for him. "You guys go on. He wants me to stay."

"He talked to you?" Ox's ears perked up in hope.

"Sorta kinda," Nolan teetered his head with a short glance to Lou in the corner. "I'll text when I'm headed back into town. It might be a while, though, so don't wait up on me."

They hesitated to move, especially Ox. It took some coaxing from Mandy to get him to relent and walk away. Nolan didn't move from the doorway until they had walked far enough from the shed. Satisfied, he closed the door and immersed the shed back into an opaque darkness. He silently sat next to Lou in the same position he'd been in outside. No words were spoken.

#this is gonna have to be a series-#oops #uglydolls #lou #fanfiction #writing #ox #moxy #nolan #short story #mandy #ask #part 1

28 notes · View notes

sinistercall · 4 months

Note

Leave it to the rest of their eclectic little group of tadpole-inflicted comrades to ruin a PERFECTLY radiant afternoon— something in the planets must have aligned for the entire party to be in such a disgustingly good mood, even Lae-zel and Shadowheart are behaving civilly, for once. Even more APPALLING was the scene before him, everyone's favorite warlock doing his honest best to try to lead Ithuriel through he proper steps of a waltz. It'd ALMOST be endearing if Astarion could stomach the sickly sweet sight without wanting to vomit. Wyll's hands holding her's too softly, their bodies too close, their smiles too bright— he's had ENOUGH.

The sad excuse for a novel he'd been reading is slammed shut ABRUPTLY, a dull thud as it's tossed to the side so the vampire can make his way over to the pair.

An IRRITATED click of his teeth is the only sound offered before he oh, so politely shoulders his way into Wyll's place. "Gods above, you're both so clumsy. You'll let me handle this, won't you...?" Whatever the warlock answers is INCONSEQUENCIAL, the spawn already spinning them so their friend is out of eyesight ( the real view is in front of her already, isn't it? ). ❝ My apologies, darling. I just couldn't bear to sit idly by and watch the two of you embarrass yourselves in the middle of the entire camp any longer. ❞

He realizes too late that he's made the grave error of placing himself front-and-center to something that may read more intimate and genuine than it really is— a MISTAKE he won't make twice, though he'll do his best to relish this moment while it lasts. It'd be a shame to waste the good weather, after all. And the paladin just looks so, so STUNNING in the sunlight ( what a shame their most delicious moments under the cover of night ).

❝ I absolutely refuse to believe you've never done this before, not even you can be that uncivilized. ❞ The tiefling's movements are CLUMSY and UNSURE, but not the steps of someone ignorant to the motions— she seems to need little guidance, effortlessly following the sway and flow of his body, pressing herself closer with the delicious kind of confidence he normally has to TEASE out of her. Perhaps, like most things, this is just something else she's lost— forgotten with the rest of the mysteries of her past. Though he's certain there's a little more BLOOD on her hands than either of them know, he silently hopes she's at least had moments like this before, small moments to enjoy herself, to be HAPPY.

A rather UNBECOMING thought, and he catches himself smiling much too casually. He's certainly gotten sloppy. Well, he thinks, no choice but to do what he does best—

❝ You know, there really was no need to try to make me jealous. If you wanted to be close to me, all your sweet little self had to do was ask. ❞ Always one with a flair for the DRAMATIC, he takes it upon himself to pull the paladin impossibly closer, swiftly pressing her flush to him before lowering her into a exagurated dip just so he can press his lips closer to her ADORABLY pointed ears. ❝ Or perhaps, ❞ he hums, ❝ it was me who wanted to hold you just. Like. This. ❞

He pulls her up before he has a chance to dwell on how UNSETTINGLY easy it was for that last part to slip out— the taunt hitting too close to the truth for his comfort. Sloppy indeed....

|| @sanguisstella (o:

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍'𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊'𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐀 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓.

Horrifically the topic of her request had come up within one of those novels 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 had lent to her - his insistence of getting her books was ... endearing to say the least - and she wished to know all she could about the novels presented to her, but there were many things she'd forgotten after the tadpole had burrowed into her mind. There was a strange innocence in the way she approached him, Ithuriel had always known Wyll to be a 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 and noble man - a protector she felt safe with, someone easy to 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓. Revealing her secret to him was inconsequential, at least at first when the Warlock had promised to teach her - she was unaware that the lesson would begin immediately, and terribly, in front of their many companions. A few chuckles and smiles surround the pair, the warmth of Wyll’s hands allows the crimson shade of embarrassment budding upon the apples of her cheeks was soon to fade into a soft hue of joy - she even lowers her gaze to part his in order to stare down at her feet, observing the 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍 of movement between them. Ithuriel savors it. She feels akin to a ray of light dappling through the lush green canopy framing their camp, an air of 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄 curiosity bounces her skirts and hair as they dance; it is moments like this, when she is drenched in sunshine, that she can feel Lathander cupping her heart and murmuring in her ear.

Her sense of wonder at each step is delightfully sweet, a simplicity and an openness that was almost child - like; within this moment she had found how to be at 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 in the middle of her stormy life. For a few minutes in time she was free of every shackle that had ever been placed upon her, she was her own person able to decide what she wanted for herself. Her canines bite softly into her lower lip, pushing the plush in while the vision of one of her companions comes to the forefront of her thoughts. A melody plucks itself within the echoing recesses of her mind, she doesn't remember where it is from but it lends itself well to the situation before her; her feet do not succumb to her usual clumsiness. Even when he seems to trip she catches their footing and keeps pace; although her brow quirks up when she notices that his shoes are 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 - but her lips were already moving and her head was already lifting to see ... 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍. No no - stop!

"Oh W-Wyll, I feel like a princess - "

But its too late, the words had spilled most of the way from her tongue, Ithuriel only able to catch the last few - and suddenly her face feels 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆. Her breath catches, she hadn't expected Astarion to prance his way into her personal space; let alone start crooning about his jealousy, she only imagine how he would mock her later about revealing such girlish whimsies. A princess. 𝐇𝐀! Worse still is the way she's unable to turn away from him, did a part of her hope that he'd mosey his way into this waltz? The vampire’s presence invades every corner of her perception, his cool hands against her waist and palm, the teasing scent of his cologne. He’s everywhere and she’s unable to deny how eagerly she 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 in his visage. 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 is reflected in the clarity of her wide eyes - the pale rays of light igniting his curls into a halo; she hates the way her heart flutters and a nervous giggle leaves her. As though she is a young 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 again looking up at some fae prince and ... 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘺; 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘰? She finds herself allowing it at the gentle teasing and genuine grin curling his petaled lips; it suddenly feels safe to open this softer, ethereal side of her soul to him. She shines with the light he provides and he was the brightest shade of gold she’d ever seen, one she wanted to 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐊 herself in.

"Ah - Astarion - ! Wait!"

Another swell of laughter leaves her once their bodies are 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 and he is expertly tilting her back to see a new angle of the world, palm holding the small of her back with a strength hidden by his lovely form. Ithuriel pulls her focus from the touches across her body to focus on the mass of birch trees behind them; waves of black and white - a never ending ocean with a bright leafy abyss dappled with brilliant gold patches. Her hair brushes the dirt when she’s suddenly descending even further. Ithuriel instinctively coils her arms around his back and shoulder to cling into the fabric of his shirt; perhaps she was frightened he would drop her? Hot breath tickles her ears, causing them to flutter like flustered 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐘 wings - she feels light as a feather on a spring breeze; floating over the lily ponds and catching the blossoming hue of their flowers and her face. It pains her that she cannot pick up the rush of his blood - the soft 𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐒 in his chest were silent … and she cups the back of his head. Her mind opens to him once they begin to straighten out again, although her arms do not shift from their embrace - her heels lift and her fingers card through his hair ... It is time for 𝐇𝐄𝐑 to whisper lilting croons into his pointy ear, or rather, for sweet words of adoration to caress across the loathed scars upon his throat.

"Then I'll be sure to ask you everyday, I know how embarrassed you get over this - Don't worry, it will be our little secret."

Ithuriel doesn't wait for Astarion to catch up, she cannot 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐊 his defenses to come back when she finally has him so vulnerable and moldable - maybe right now he will finally 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑 her words. I care for you. Let me in ... please. She hugs him firmly. Implacably - the warmth pouring from her soul a confirmation that she would do this as long as he needed. All 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. All 𝐃𝐀𝐘 - until their bodies settle into place and become intertwined trees, she would be there to sink her roots with his. She doesn't fail to note how easily their bodies mold and move to fit the other, and their forms pressed so intimately together seems to slow her racing heart. No longer does her skin produce electric shocks but instead melts into a pleasant enduring sense of 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 that pulls a sigh from her lips.

𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 - 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.

However time stalled for no man and soon she's remiss to find herself lowering down onto the flats of her feet, connecting fully with the earth once more. Already she misses the scent of his perfume. What had felt like an eternity to her is but a few minutes of time as they continue their waltz throughout camp. Thankfully none of their companions notice the 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 way she leans into him, it is easier to feel free when he is with her; it is easier to be 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇 enough to grasp what she wants. To allow her scarred fingers to 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 the 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 of his soul. As much as she yearns to stay in this sanctuary the paladin decides to take it upon herself to bring them both down from that whimsical little ... moment they had just shared. She opts to take hold of his hands again and spin their steps closer towards the edge of camp. She senses a fleeting chance to tease him back within his stunned state, an opportunity she was not above taking - not when he looked so ...

𝘏𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦?

Her words follow the sway of their bodies and she begs her voice to not betray her, he would laugh at the depth of feeling within her chest. Ithuriel is unsure if he would ever be able to accept it. "I was actually speaking to Wyll to show me this dance so I could better understand the movements of the characters in the book you lent me. Although there were many other things I did not know about either, would you like to be the one to teach me all of them, Darlin - Ah - !"

The edge of a root snags under her ankle and little can be done before she stumbles just enough for gravity to take them both tumbling down the hill’s curve, angled just enough that there is no hope of stopping the descent into the valley below. Verdant ribbons lick against her camp clothes, painting the pale linen strokes of lush green and bright yellow as she rolled through the foliage. Her laughter echoes through the valley they find themselves collapsing into, a glimpse into an 𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 version of her soul; free of Bhaal, of duty, of rules - and the world's wonder reflects in her starry cerise eyes. Ithuriel lifts her face towards the sky once the momentum stops and her flailing form is brought to a halt, the clouds are beautifully swept across the endless azure of the sky - and the burning yolk of the sun seems to smile down at her. Soon that happiness is directed towards the 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 as she observes his messy tresses - unable to help herself but to pluck some of the grass from them. Gods above he looks perfectly 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 and she knows she looks just as messy - the snorts and gasps for air don't stop and only after using all of her will to relax does she speak:

"Y - You look like a potted plant!"

Her chest jumps when she finally settles back down, laughter relaxing into low giggles, having moved closer towards the vampire once more; it seems she was interested in the heat he managed to bring to her cheeks. Soon those plucky slim fingers are carefully 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 through the pale curls framing around the angle of his temple, each thread alight with the brilliant luminescent 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐎 behind her silhouette. She's curious in how being around him manages to stretch time - their ticking bombs meant little to her right now; somehow as long as he is beside her she knows her heart will still find a way to 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐏. Ithuriel slips a few flowers by his ear, followed by a gentle caress to the beautifully carved face under her, “There … some daisies and dandelions, you do make a rather pretty vase, Astarion, like you were made to only exist in the sun.” Her own hair had become unraveled with their tumble - and it creates a curtain around their heads when she gazes at him, a waterfall of Lathander's light. The fire behind her eyes, usually intense enough to sear flesh and bone, had simmered down into crackling 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒 while she regarded him. Part of her longs to curl her fingers around the back of his head to have him rest against her. Instead she lowers into the sea of grass beside him, both of them hidden away from the rest of the world's judgemental 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒; she felt safe interlocking their fingers and pressing their foreheads close. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩. It's quiet away from camp and it feels almost wrong to break it.

"Let's stay here for a while longer, I'm sure the others will come in due time - but I wouldn't mind having some alone time with you. Will that help cure you of your jealousy?"

━━ @sanguisstella

#── 𝐎' 𝐒𝐔𝐍 ; 𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇! ... 【 ɪᴄ 】#── 𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐅 … 【 ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙʜᴀᴀʟ ʙᴀʙᴇ 】#── 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐅 … 【 ꜱᴀɴɢᴜɪꜱꜱᴛᴇʟʟᴀ 】#── 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 #I wrote a little too much #i blacked out and woke up to this #crying weeping throwing up #idk idk #cyn help me

5 notes · View notes

insufferable-talkstuck · 9 months

Text

Dave and Dirk ; Relationship analysis

[ Candy route ]

a post dedicated to the strider father-son brother bond as portrayed within the dubious canonical writing of the candy route

a peek into the past ๑

the candy timeline is the one in which our protagonist John egbert decides to stay on earth C and not go back to fight Lord English, this makes candy the "less relevant" and more off putting timeline. however he does have to retcon back into canon once to retrieve the fridge Gamzee dwells in, per the request of Calliope

when John retcons back we are met with the emotional scene of Dave and Dirk hugging it out on the rooftop, you really can't discredit how wholesomely this is written

CANDY CHAPTER TWO ;

` At the other end of the roof are Dirk and Dave, doing something he never thought he’d see: they’re... hugging. Not just regular, noncommittal hugging. They are emphatically hugging the shit out of each other. Dave’s face is buried in Dirk’s side, and Dirk’s got both arms around him in a way that looks like he’s never actually hugged another human being before. `

` The moment John’s palms hit the fridge, Dirk turns to look at him. His head only moves an inch. Slowly, he lowers one eyebrow and returns to his poignant and deeply personal business with Dave, as if he hasn’t observed anything worth acknowledging at all. `

END QUOTE

im not saying im *disappointed* with this hug is canon, i am just so fond of how this scene is described within the epilogues. now allow me to overthink it.

not only is this moment described more intensely and emotionally than in HS canon, but Dirk sees a boy appear out of nowhere to stroke then *steal* a fridge; and does not think it is even worth acknowledging. he quite literally does not bat an eye. dirk is so occupied with his brother he doesn't care about anything around him, he knows dave is in his arms and that's all he needs to know.

a peak into the past : end ๑

out of the past now, into the new things that took place in Candy. ==>

Candy is the timeline in which dirk takes his life. Dirk can't take becoming irrelevant and prefers his own death, ( and Reforming later on. shout out to Ult dirk ) a Just death as arranged very carefully.

Dave was looking for Dirk for advice, he needed help with his love life and he needed his brother to tell him what to do.

when Dave is met with the news of Dirks passing he is in shambles to say the least, however this does not take him over; Ultimate dirk is still semi-writting everything. he has control and wants the best of his brother he would not let him fall into a depression.

Dirks funeral was sad, a very upsetting scene [ ignore gamzee for the entirety of it ] the first day Earth C sees rain, and a rare occurrence in which Dave takes off his shades while giving a speech about dirk

[ worthy mention; Dave carries dirks head at the funeral ]

Dave knows he CAN go back in time to save Dirk but won't on purpose, he doesn't ONLY love his brother he understands him, he understands him to be a difficult guy, and wouldn't wanna worsen the situation.

the writing goes out of its way to show you just how much the striders care for each other

the Davebot situation

robots are a very common thing in homestuck, they're pretty much everywhere maybe it was a 2009 thing. But many among the fandom seem to believe a character *becoming* a robot is equal to the character dying. that is absolutely not the case especially not when DIRK is the robot maker

[ my opinions and theories incoming ]

Dirk does not view robots as "less than" humans, he grew up around them they were his only company so much so he prefers them to humans in many instances, i think the REASON he made Davebot happen ( we all know it was the prince's doing. ) was to keep him somewhat relevant, Dirk cares about the Meat timeline cause he believes it to be more important, but he wouldn't want his brother thrown into irrelevance! he cares about him, ergo turning him into a robot, it's the best he can do for his poor sonbro doomed to being "forgotten" [ dirk makes his robots with care especially when housing family. he puts a lot of work into them and it shows just how important they are to him. Davebot is shown to be strong as shit, slicing fruit thrown at him with his katana like he's playing fruit ninja, meat!Dave wouldn't do this by choice, its dirk trying to make him stronger. I won't even touch of how RAD rosebot is. just look at what she can do and TELL me becoming a robot is equal to death. ]

๑ end ๑

if i were to cover dave and dirks ENTIRE relationship in both timelines and HS^2 I would reach a character limit or my phone would explode. i have so many thoughts on it all and they're so precious, anyway in sum; Candy!Dave and Dirk should have hugged more. oh and deeply care for each other

#homestuck #the epilogues #[ candy route 🍭 ]#dave strider #dirk strider #striders #relationship analysis

8 notes · View notes

repentarium · 1 year

Text

the truth is I've been dreaming of this tired, tranquil place tag 7/?

ao3

They don't get to hang out in a big group as much anymore, between working more hours and the kids having more school work and even part time jobs, which make Steve and Eddie feel more stressed and also older than they'd like to admit because 'those are children, actually, and they're… working the grill at a fast food place? Uncanny.' Eddie felt especially freaked about it and spent a nice long rant about it during dinner one night after Mike had handed him their takeout with what Eddie was calling his ‘asshole face’ on his face.

If Steve didn’t have Eddie around so much, the lack of Robin and now the kids too would hurt a lot worse, he thinks. It’s harder to sink into the loneliness when Eddie is loud and present enough most days to make up for it, playing around on his acoustic guitar or muttering under his breath as he writes dragon notes into his little books or arguing passionately about the music Steve has rolled his eyes out. It’s enough that when he does get hold of Robin she makes jealous (and loving) little comments about being replaced.

He assures her that there is no replacing Robin, and there absolutely isn’t, but between Family Video and Eddie he doesn’t have to dwell on missing her so much is all. He’s sure that part of it is just that compared to how alone he was in his parents house all the time having Eddie there every night, a sure thing, feels so safe.

The Party does manage movie nights all together though, sometimes, overcrowded into the apartment's small living room.

They're rewatching the Star Wars movies, again, because they couldn't decide on anything and really it's just background noise for catching up most of the time anyway, to Dustin's mild chagrin.

Steve, Eddie, Dustin, and Will are all crammed onto the couch, and the rest of the Party is sprawled out on the floor, only space left for the coffee table full of pizza and glasses.

'This is just such a cool fight scene because - I mean look at it!!' Dustin is yelling as he's shoveling chips into his mouth.

'It's so impractical though, man, it'd never work in real life, like-' Steve gestures at the screen.

'No but it's cool, Steve!'

'The physics are stupid. You can see the wires and it totally takes you out of it-'

'Oh are you gonna talk to me about physics, Steve?'

He doesn't mean anything by it, but he doesn't have his big obvious I'm teasing you voice on and for some reason it makes Steve feel like shit. He'd had a long day at work, had to rush home to leave again and pick up the kids and the pizza, and he hadn't slept properly last night, that probably had a lot to do with it, but he feels himself shrink a little into the corner of the couch anyway, gritting his teeth a little and refocusing on the tv and planning to just ignore Dustin until he gets over it which in the past has had a less-than-stellar success rate if he’s honest.

'Stop being a jerk, kid.' Steve can feel Eddie elbow Dustin beside him, even though he’s still looking at the tv too when he checks.

'I'm not being a jerk, Steve's being a moron.'

'You can make jokes about people if they're funny but you're not being funny, you're being mean.'

Steve feels his face get warm, and he stares wide-eyed at the screen. He can feel Eddie looking at him, the way he nudges him a little, and when he does it again to get him to look at him he mouths 'You good?' and Steve swallows and nods.

He thinks it's over and they've moved on, but when he asks a question about the timeline in the movie, trying to patch it up, it makes Dustin mutter 'see, a moron’ quietly enough that Steve can barely hear it.

Eddie shoves him, whole-body but not roughly, off of the couch, and when Dustin starts complaining he interrupts him with a snipped and decisive 'shut up'.

'I don't know what your deal is today, man, if you wanna talk about it we can, but you don't need to be an asshole to your friends.' Then he turns his head to Steve, ignoring Dustin's muttering as he gets up and goes to the restroom and the rest of the party watching awkwardly, and explains his answer to Steve's question quietly to him.

Steve's looking at Eddie as he speaks, in the glow of the tv screen, and it's like the actual words he's saying fade out for a minute and all he can really think about is the way the whites of his eyes and the shine of his teeth look in the blue of the television.

Then he's saying 'Does that make sense?' and his face is a little scrunched up, so Steve nods back at him. Eddie claps his hand on Steve's knee and stands up, gestures to the hallway and the bathroom, whispers 'I'm gonna go check on him'.

Steve tries to pay attention to the screen, or even just to Lucas and Max's bickering from the floor, but he can't stop thinking about the way Eddie basically stood up for him. He's had people fighting at his side and saving his life, but for some reason Eddie's ability to see that he was upset about something and fix it before it even spiraled into a real problem (like maybe one that would have him hiding in his room for a while day and forgetting to eat or drink water or talk to anyone) felt… monumental. Like he shined a bright light into the weird little cracks and alleys inside of him and just said 'oh, we can patch this up actually' and then he just did it, easy as you please.

Will leaves the couch, and when he does he takes his and Steve's empty glass in; when he picks his way back through the crowd he has two full glasses of water, and he sits one in front of Steve. He doesn't say anything but he does a little 'cheers' gesture with his own glass and waits for Steve to pick it up before he matches him taking a drink.

Steve thinks 'this is the way a family could be, actually' as he takes a long drink and sets the glass down, says 'thanks' to Will. Like maybe for all his fussing and taking care of people, they also want to fuss over him and take care of him sometimes actually, not just Robin and certainly not his parents. Like they were all leaning on each other, maybe, like it's not weak to ask for a little help.

When Dustin comes back in, Eddie's arm around his shoulder, his eyes are a little red and puffy. The two of them squeeze back into their positions on the couch, and Eddie's arm is flush against his as they watch the rest of the movie. It feels grounding.

After the last movie, the kids (teenagers, nearly adults, god, but never not kids) start cleaning up and putting things where they belong so Eddie can get them all home like he volunteered to. While they’re bustling around, Dustin asks if he can talk to Steve alone and pulls him into his own bedroom. Eddie catches his eye on the way and gives him a questioning thumbs up, so he shrugs and nods and closes the door behind him.

Almost immediately Dustin’s eyes are watering and he’s pulling Steve into a tight hug and saying ‘I am so sorry Steve I was being a dick and I don’t even know why, you’re not a moron at all you’re smarter than any of us a lot of the time actually and-’

‘Whoa, hey, Dustin, it’s okay.’ Steve pushes him away to hang onto his arms and look him in the eye.

‘It’s not okay, man, I didn’t want to hurt you, I wasn’t even thinking.’

‘It’s really alright, okay? I’m kind of a moron, it’s fine.’

‘No you’re not, Steve, and you even saying that is messed up.’

‘I was… joking.’

‘You were half-joking.’

‘Well-’

‘You’re not an idiot, Steve. And I know we joke about it sometimes but it’s not cool, especially because your poor brain is mostly mush anymore from all the fights and the monsters and stuff.’

‘Gee, thanks…’

‘I mean it. If you forget what happened in Star Wars it’s probably because of the head injuries and stuff and anyways it’s not really without plot holes, you know, and it’s just a movie.’

That is maybe the kindest thing that Dustin has ever said to him, denouncing Star Wars, even if it was surrounded by honestly offensive insights.

Steve pulls him back into another hug, kind of just to keep him from accidentally insulting him anymore. When he wiggles his way out of the hug again, he says ‘I really am sorry. You’re the best babysitter, and I mean that. I’m really glad you keep us all around, even if we don’t say it much we all love you.’

And that, coming from dork of a teenager who he loves back with everything he is, is enough to bring tears prickling to his eyes.

‘I know, man. I love you too.’

‘Don’t be a baby, okay?’ Dustin claps his hand on his shoulder like he’s the parental figure.

Steve rolls his eyes and knocks the hat off of Dustin’s head on his way out of the room again, and things feel light again, back to normal or maybe better.

When Steve thinks about it later, after Eddie has whisked everyone off in the van, he realizes that Dustin is right. Maybe the multitude of concussions did more than wiggle his eyes around and give him migraines, like the fogginess and the way he forgets words and lyrics sometimes isn’t because he’s not thinking or whatever. A brain wasn’t supposed to be jostled around so much, by shitty dads or racist older brothers or Russians or what amount to literal demons.

It’s not Dustin’s fault for teasing him. If Steve himself didn’t connect the dots there’s no reason for the kids to.

He hadn’t really given it a lot of thought beyond the immediacy of the migraines and his suddenly shitty vision, but he makes a note to ask Robin what her thoughts are about the whole brain injury thing the next time they talk, maybe to schedule something with another government neurologist or whatever in addition to the eye doctor.

Eddie had though. Eddie had given it enough thought and realized it and told Dustin he was being an asshole and explained it to him, why it would hurt Steve’s feelings to say things like that, why he should maybe cool it. He knows that’s what they were talking about in the restroom, doesn’t even have to ask.

He’s washing the glasses in the sink and thinking about how good Eddie is, to him and to the kids and in general, when he comes back (‘honey, I’m home’). He comes in and sits on the counter next to the sink, watches quietly as Steve finishes up.

‘How are you doing?’

‘Good. Good.’

‘Dustin said he apologized, but I wanted to tell you from him again he’s sorry, just in case he fucked it up somehow. I don’t think he realized what a shit he was being, you know, teenagers. He was still kind of shook up on the ride home.’

Steve nods, dries his hands and puts the towel back on the oven handle. He leans against the stove next to Eddie, who pushes his knee against his side.

‘I know. It shouldn’t have even bothered me, it’s not like he was wrong, I’m not smart enough to be arguing about physics with the nerds, but-’

‘Shut up, man, you’re a million times smarter than me. Do you think I’m stupid?’

‘Well no.’ Steve means it honestly. He knows that tests at school don’t measure all the kinds of smart you can be. ‘I don’t think I’m smarter than you.’

‘We can agree to disagree. Maybe both of us are kind of smart.’

‘You are smart. You’re like the smartest guy I know, when it comes to people especially. I don’t know how you can always tell something’s wrong with someone, or that I’m getting a migraine, or when I don’t want to cook or whatever.’

‘It’s the trauma I think. Or maybe magic.’

But he can tell Eddie’s laughing it off, pushing the compliment aside. ‘I mean it.’ He looks at Eddie, tries to make him understand how sincere he’s being by sheer force of will. It must at least kind of work, because Eddie smiles and blushes a little, drops his head and bumps his knee against Steve again.

‘Dustin said something though, kind of got me thinking, about how all the concussions probably fucked with the way my brain works sometimes, like maybe it’s not that there’s something, you know, wrong with me, but it’s like an injury.’

‘Concussions plural?’

‘Don’t get me started. A lot of them. And I didn’t even connect it, you know? I just thought between everyone else saying so, even Nancy and the kids and everything, I just wasn’t so smart.’

‘Stevie, pal, even if you weren’t as smart as the super-geniuses you wouldn’t be wrong. You’re still an amazing friend and babysitter and you know way more about sports and cars than I can ever learn, even with the less-than-legal history.’

Steve is just looking down at his crossed arms, Eddie’s leg still pressed against his elbow.

‘I think I’m gonna take the government bozos up on that check up, see if they can poke my brain at all. Get the eye doctor penciled in too.’

‘Good. You gotta take care of that big old head you have.’

Steve looks up at Eddie, finally, again, sees the way his eyes are faking sincerity but so clearly goofing around, sparking in the streetlights filtering in through the windows and the light that stays on over the stove (light enough to soothe the shadows but dim enough not to trigger a migraine), and he thinks maybe he’s not replacing Robin but he’s carving his own little space out. He elbows him in the shin, and Eddie jumps off of the counter, laughing loudly as he goes to get ready for bed.

#tranquil place #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #ficlet #fanfic #fic #mine

20 notes · View notes

thefudge · 2 years

Text

a few (okay, maybe quite a few) scattered HOTD thoughts now that i’ve finally caught up:

yay for having a sick day in bed to catch up

the good:

1. definitely a better written show than GOT even in its heyday, and that’s because a lot of the character moments are about showing vulnerability and conflict, not about seeing who gets to say the cleverest line. hotd falls into that sometimes too, but it pays more attention to character

2. the battle/action sequences - i rarely ever enjoyed them on GOT but they’re sparse and well done here, at least for now. the dragon scenes have also been pretty good

3. love the fact that we have so many unsettling/creepy/indefinable dynamics and that hotd dwells on them and doesn’t let you forget lol. i also think this show is doing a better job at depicting the “shades of grey” for every character in terms of morality.

4. the acting is pretty solid all around

the bad (up to this point):

1. that whole wedding sequence in episode 5. started out promising. loved alicent’s bad bitch entrance. and then...??? ser criston cole just went nuts??? and it was so chaotic and confusing and unconvincing. i assume that we will return to that whole mess at some point? because it was not explained or fleshed out and it makes no sense why they just let criston get away with it. sure, we could argue that the two houses might’ve been relieved to see laenor’s paramour die....but they’d never do that to poor laenor and they wouldn’t have left the culprit go unpunished. was that whole sequence meant to be confusing and dissatisfying? maybe i’m just dumb and didn’t get it

2. ser criston cole. is just. a cartoonish 2-dimensional villain now? i don’t get it. they’ve shown they can write characters with enough complexity and deftness that we both understand where they’re coming from and condemn some of their actions. but i guess they just gave up for ser criston? and decided to turn him into a weird incel. and how is he not dead or exiled after what he did??? what sorcery did alicent pull.

3. laena’s death. how did a pregnant woman manage to run past everyone, including daemon, and get down to the shore? why did no one stop her? what a waste of a character. i looked up her death in the book....and the changes they made are strange. i like the idea of her choosing to die like a dragon-rider, but everyone’s absolute negligence of her, and her sudden desire to die felt out of left field. laena struck me as someone who wanted to keep fighting, not give up.

ship stuff:

- daemon/rhaenyra is solid and have plenty of chemistry, but maaaan, she should’ve been way more angry with him after episode 4. i feel like he got off far too easy (which i guess is a running theme with all his pretend exiles). he struck me as pretty callous and calculating, even if he was also conflicted and drawn to her. i’m srsly waiting for her to put him in his place when they’re married. i need that to be a “rhaenyra is boss” family. in general, daemon is fun but also...kind of obnoxious. i think we’re maybe making too much of him, but matt smith does play the asshole type well, what can i say. i guess what i am trying to say is that i see them less as romantic soulmates and more as "we love each other and use each other” kind of targaryen flavor. which frankly makes them more appealing to me

- harwin strong/rhaenyra - very sad and cute and wholesome. would definitely read smut

- alicent/larys strong - deliciously creepy vibes, but more in the vein of cersei and qyburn. on board.

- alicent/otto - god, i love the fraught & repressed father/daughter relationship. we had too few scenes with them!! love the toxicity, love the devotion, love how otto pretends not to see alicent’s misery, love everything about them

- alicent/rhaenyra - liked them better as youngins, i feel like the tension between them as older women is somehow...less interesting? idk. i still hope they have more interactions in the future. (i loved that montage in ep 4 where rhaenyra was having a blast and alicent was staring at the ceiling in boredom and agony as viserys did his business. the queer longing alone!)

- alicent/daemon - that one rarepair/crackship i’m probably going to obsess over. i already have an elaborate oneshot in mind. i love ppl who almost never interact but who would have such interesting one-on-one conversations. also the fraughtness of daemon/viserys, and how much daemon probably resents alicent for “taking” his brother. anyway!

- alicent/criston - i could be down for this in the scenario where alicent just steps on him repeatedly and he thanks her for it. ugh. really bleh about ser criston.

- alicent’s targ kids have interesting sibling dynamics.....i assume more incest is coming from that corner too lol

(sorry yall, most of my ships are alicent ships because olivia cooke <3333)

- laena’s girls! baela and rhaena! i want them to have ridiculously complicated subplots & romances, i want them to take center-stage! least they can do after wasting laena/daemon

i think that’s everything for now. i’m kind of wondering why we’re doing all these time jumps and why we’re not taking our time. have we not learned anything from GOT? anyway, i’ll probably share my final thoughts after all episodes air.

#hotd #my thoughts

20 notes · View notes

daydadahlias · 1 year

Note

How do you feel about MiM's success? did you expect it?🤓

oh boy i sure am gonna say some words!

this is an interesting ask bc I don't really perceive MiM as being very successful personally.

I mean, I'm so immensely happy with the reaction it's getting and the interaction it's getting (bc any interaction on writing is literally the best thing in the world) and I absolutely love having the opportunity to share it more than anything!!!

but it's hard to think of it as being successful because I am, of course, comparing to every other fic I've ever posted on the same platform. and, in comparison to the reaction Scene 14 and Take Notes were actively getting as I was posting them live in the same manner I'm currently posting MiM, this is a considerably smaller reaction.

for context, a chapter of MiM usually gets somewhere between 2-5 comments (and maybe around 5 asks let's say). In contrast, Scene 14 was probably getting a consistent 5-7 comments every update (and, if I'm remembering correctly, probably around 10 asks, which is insane to think about in retrospect). Take Notes, in addition, would be getting around 7-10 comments a chapter (and probably ~10 asks as well but I don't really know that number; i'm just making shit up).

Also, I do think it's worth briefly noting that Bite Marks (another chaptered fic I tried to post on a schedule; rip my baby) has about double the amount of subscriptions that MiM has and (what I consider to be) considerably more kudos while also being significantly shorter.

So, when you're looking at the actual "statistics" of fics I've posted, I don't see MiM as being all that successful.

this is of course not to give the impression that I think MiM should have more comments/interaction or anything because I'm not a little greedy monster yknow and I really would be happy and content if only one person read it.

but I just don't think it would be accurate of me to say I think the fic is successful within the scope of how fics of mine have done in the past.

however, this statistical drop off is simply because our fandom is significantly smaller now than it was when I was posting Scene 14 and Take Notes. I could post either of those fics right now and I simply do not think they would do nearly as well as they did in 2021.

But, since those are the posting experiences I have to compare to for all my work in the future, I am well aware that no fics I post following them will ever get the same level of interaction and - therefore - I will never be able to perceive them as being successful. which,, sounds depressing dfghjk but i swear it's not!! it's not something i let myself dwell on (especially bc it's something ALL the writers in our fandom are experiencing). I write fics for me and whoever wants to read them can. it's a blessing to get to be able to share stuff at all!! and all i need is just one reader to keep posting <3

in terms of expecting it, I would say maybe that I never really have any expectations of how people will respond to fics. i'm never right when i make predictions anyway. I just never really know, so I think I'm always a little surprised by how people respond. even after 3 years of posting in the same fandom, i dont think i'll ever get over the "omg people read my stuff and like it" feeling.

so, TL;DR, i feel really good about MiM bc anyone is reading it at all :)

hope that kind of answers this, sorry for the tangent

#we're in a state of decline slash writing wise to be honest. so MiM realistically is kind of tanking. like for this era it's doing GREAT but #in general. compared to how it used to be. it's just not what it was. and like that's something all the writers in the fandom feel rn #it feels very. barren. im not just being melodramatic haha. we're in a ghost town.#and so that being said #i will consider myself extremely lucky for how people are interacting with MiM #bc there's just not a lot of people reading rn #i will say tho that... and this might get a little depressing dfghjk that there are certain people who i was friends w/ last year #when i started writing this fic who i expected to read this story when i posted it #and they've since moved to other fandoms so they will obviously not be reading this lol #which is fine ofc!! people r allowed to change interests #but it can be a little sad for me as a writer #to be so excited to share smthn w/ my friends and for them to outgrow me #like this posting experience is unique in the way that #most of the people reading MiM are people im meeting now for the first time! hi guys ily #whereas w/ scene 14 and take notes i literally *knew* everyone that was reading it. they were all people i was already friends with #so that's kind of another difference that i didn't necessarily expect w/ this one. and was really intimidating when posting.#MiM's the kind of fic i feel like katt would have loved #i hate talking abt fandom friends like they're dead lol but yknow. u fall out of touch w/ some people and that sucks but it's the way it is #so i will be honest that. that is a part of the MiM's writing experience that makes me a little sad #bc there's stuff in this fic for people who will never read it #uhm me when i make myself tear up at midnight hello???? loser behavior #anyway i hope that kind of answered that!!#thank u for the ask !! sorry for being weirdly clinical and emo abt it #love the emoji choice very fun #pigeon #anon

2 notes · View notes

aqqleshiqqing-archive · 2 years

Note

but yeah! i’m so excited to hear more abt hero from you! i haven’t been able to check any moots blogs recently so tell me about hero and you! i think it’s in a /p way? info dump to me abt it :00 also just tell me abt your hyperfixation on omori anyways! i love talking abt the game

you mentioning aksel and august being very similar to hero and irl, omg they are i don’t know how i never realized this!! but yeah i think they’d identify with the characters a lot. especially since i may or may not give aksel a crush character for ooo story 👀. either way, i love expanding fankid stories past like my s/i and f/o! so aksels gonna have his own dumb adventures (where he babysits everyone else /j)

yup!! it's very and super /p ive been feeling very attached to hero lately hehe but bestie along with hero being my comfort/platonic i accidentally picked up the crush card and looked at captain sp.aceboy SBDBDJSJJSNSKDJDKDKKS HAHA <33333333

oh the pleasure to talk about hero even more is ALL MINE AHAHSBSBSHSHSHSHSH HEHEEHE

I honestly don't know how to put this into words!!! I just knew I was gonna like him!! also how is the fandom telling me he's the most underrated WHAT

hero is actually, uhm. like my first actual comfort character!! I never really considered any comfort charas because a lot of them would be my romantics, so I couldn't really classify them without being ALWAYS romantic (im just being picky don't correct me/lh) so hero being like, this new character that I enjoy so much without feeling the romantic aspect makes me so!!! 🥺 akakdkakkea I LITERALLY MADE EVERYONE IN MY DISCORD SERVER HAVE A PHOTO OF HERO IN A "take this, it's too dangerous" MEME AHSBEJDJRJJSKE

dude I swear I keep saying this exact line everytime, it's either in here or in discord LMAO but I've always liked characters who are loser romantics/charmers. applicable in /r and /p!! I just think it's a funny character design, ONLY IN FICTION do not go flirt irl it's very weird SHDVFHDJDHDJJS but when I saw hero, he works in the charmer aspect YET he's the most polite and gentlemanly type and it's a very new concept to me and I love it very much!!

though I feel like a lot of omori's perspectives of them in the headspace is greatly exaggerated

(like kel being so stupid but he's really a wonderful silly guy in the real world; or how sunny has a crush on aubrey and that has been emphasized in headspace in which aubrey is evidently showing her puppy crush on him)

so I feel like hero being literally loved by the whole world of headspace is just sunny's perception of him and I guess I dwell a little more on headspace hero (but that's not to say I don't care about real world hero; ABSOLUTELY NOT. MY BOY HAS GROWN UP LOOK AT HIM) oh I need to mention his dynamic with mari is what really sold me into liking him. he can be such a flirt to mari but is the one to get flustered instead because we all know mari is girlboss SBSBDHSJDJKEKS

there's just so many tidbits about hero I can keep going on about, but I bet there wouldn't be enough room to respond to other topics 🤧 okay but last thing, I want to have a friend like hero, someone who can tell me everything is okay, and I in return can be the one to make him feel confident about himself. he's gone through a lot and.... yeah. that piano scene with hero all by himself got me really bad /pos

ANYWAYS LOOKIE LOOKIE ITS HIIIIIIMMMMMMM

MOVING ON!!! it's definitely my recent and newfound love for hero is what made me wanted to mention how similar aksel is to hero AHBSBSHDHSJDHS LIKE rmbr that drawing you did for me where he's carrying susan??? I FR THOUGHT OF HERO AND AUBREY THERE LIKE 😭😭😭 THEN I WAS LIKE WAIT ISNT AUGUST AND AKSEL LIKE HERO AND KEL AJSHHSJEJEJEKE

BY ALL MEANS DO TELL ME WHAT U HAVE IN STORE FOR THEM HEHEHE 🥺🥺🥺 I MISS THEM <3

#casually treading the line of spoiler-y and non spoilers in this reply 😇 PDOFJFJFJRJOSKFOFPR #🍀 inbox #avery tag #gush post? gush post.#🍀 gush post #{p}: 🍳

7 notes · View notes

wily-one24 · 6 months

Note

fic writers: 2, 5, 6, 12, 46

Here we go!

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

-> Angst (Ha!)

-> Smut (Well, yeah).

-> Tumblr Prompt (haven't gotten one of those for a while).

Angst. Smut. Tumblr Prompts. Yep... absolutely reflect my writing style. (For reference, the rest of them were 'Alternate Universe'/ 'Alternate Universe: Stripper/Exotic Dancer'/ Dubious Consent/ Plot What Plot/ Humor).

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [insert fic]? Answer it now!

You didn't specify which fic you're asking about. So... uh... I don't know. Like, I'm always ready and willing to discuss my fics. People just need to ask away. Send me an ask on tumblr. Comment on the fic itself. Send me an email. Message me... whatever. I am the easiest person to approach, honestly.

6. What’s one fact about the universe of [insert fic] that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself?

Again, you never specified a fic.

Imma gonna go D5 (Deep Deep Down Where the Darkness Dwells, but honestly, who's gonna type that out all the time? D5 it is. I really wanted to find a place to explore a scene that I want to add, but there just hasn't been room/ a time/ a place for it. It would disrupt the flow of it. But I can picture the scene. It would be more of a flashback regarding Elliot's past... but the flashbacks belong to Olivia's trauma.

I am planning to bring it up, more in conversation style, it's just... I can PICTURE IT, it's a very strong scene in my head.

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

Not that I am aware? I'm actually fairly open to writing things and have explored a lot of things outside my comfort zone when prompted, but I don't have any strong dislikes for tropes... at least not that I have changed my mind about.

I don't really read cheating fics. I don't tend to read pregnancy/baby fics (which are different from fics which HAVE pregnancy and babies in them, but really revolve around other things), or alpha/omega, or like... twee AUs like "they're all in high school and every character no matter where and how their ages lie in canon are all in the same year level"... or "basically the same, but the character defining bad thing didn't happen, so they're all happy and fluffy". I don't enjoy things that erase canon.

I take my fics to weird/extreme places, but I start them in canon and cleave to the canon closely. At least what is canon up to that point.

None of these have really changed, tbh.

In the opposite direction, I guess, I used to be a fan of, like, teacher/student fics when I was much younger, but I have really gone off that trope the more I have learned about it and the older that I get.

46. Do you prefer writing on your phone or on a computer (or something else)? Do you think where you write affects the way you write?

I used to handwrite my fics. I have pages and pages of handwritten stuff in old notebooks from my uni days. It flowed so well from ink to paper, it helped my brain I think. Maybe I should try and start doing that again?

But right now I pretty much exclusively type on my computer. I need a keyboard and a screen (and a word processor type program).

A phone? Which psycho is out there writing fic on their phone? omg.

I mean, maybe somebody could... but not me. I could never write an 18,000 word chapter on a fuckingi phone screen. That's insane.

Because I use my laptop, I mostly write fic in my house, in my loungeroom, on my work desk, sometimes on the beanbag. Rarely watching TV, usually with music on. Although, sometimes I can half watch/ half write. But if I really need to concentrate, then it's music.

When I was handwriting, I used to write on the train all the time... or even at work when I had a spare moment. Wherever I could, really. I can't say whether or not if affected my fic, but I was awfully more prolific. I could update in a matter of days, rather than weeks. Same amount of words per chapter, too.

To be fair, let's not blame the handwriting/typing, train/work/home ambience 100%. It's been a decade and a half, lots of things have changed, including my mental health and physical health.

Cool quesitons, @dahllaz.

#dahllaz #look ma i got an ask #gosh you ramble a lot jacqui

1 note · View note

latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

Church (Choi San) Rated

Pairing: Choi San × Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, College AU, Friends to Enemies(?), Enemies to Lovers (?)

Summary: He used to be her best friend until he abandoned not only his childhood beliefs, but her in the process. One night, he decides to show her a glimpse of what she's been missing out on. Inspired by Chase Atlantic's Church .

Word Count: 6.3+K

Warnings: Mentions of religious beliefs, brazen college parties, allusions to alcohol/nicotine intake, body insecurity (reader has small breasts), oral (female receiving), fingering, nipple play, body worship/praise, slight cumplay, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (always use protection), slight corruption kink, inexperienced reader, experienced San. (Probably forgot something)

Taglist: @little-precious-baby @yunhoiseyecandy @yunhofingers @galaxteez @brie02 @deja-vux @a-soft-hornytiny @multidreams-and-desires @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie

╬╬═════════════╬╬

The infamous rebel let out a pernicious snicker when he saw the serene and usually proper former acquaintance walk in his direction.

"Are my eyes deceiving me or is that really the pastor's prissy little daughter out past her bedtime in a college party?" He found the situation much too amusing that he just had to point it out.

"I have a name you know." The female he was referring to halted in her steps to turn her head and give him an unkind and unfriendly look.

"You have several, actually. There's goody two shoes, priss, prude, prig-"

"Oh shut the fuck up Choi San." She scoffed as she began walking away from him, already feeling annoyed by his presence.

The man trailed after her, his face donning a shocked expression as he flailed his arms around in a dramatic way.

"Guys it's happening! The apocalypse is really here if L/N Y/N has not only attended a wild party full of debauchery, but her mouth has actually uttered out cursed words!" He shouted out, the other attendants either joining in laughing at her or ignoring him in favor of the bottles or sticks in their fingers.

"I'm surprised you even know what that word means." She turned to look at him with a mocking smile, arms crossed over her chest.

"Please, I know a lot more than you have ever pretended to know." He clicked his tongue, elbow coming up to rest on the wall next to him.

"Is that why you turnt corrupt and abandoned everything you believe in?" She couldn't help but spat back at him.

"Hey at least I was honest and didn't hide it like you people who lead double lives. Preaching one thing but living the total opposite. You're all nothing but a bunch of hypocrites." The venom in his voice was unmistakable, nose scrunching up in disgust as he remembered gross sins he had more often than not had witnessed from people who claimed to be pure and holy.

"I do not lead a double life." She remarked.

"Oh really? Then why the hell are you here in a college party? Full of alcohol, drugs and walking STDs? Riddle me that princess." His foot tapped against the floor, patiently awaiting an answer from her.

Y/N swallowed the non existent lump in her throat and turned her gaze to the floor in embarrassment.

"I just wanted to see what it was like. Just once." She admitted begrudgingly, the man in front of her chuckling lowly.

"Well you sure are going to have a lot to confess on Sunday to your dad. Silly girl, walking into the lion's pit like this." He jeered at her.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Just because I came here doesn't mean I've done anything morally wrong." She counteracted his words to which he only snorted.

"Yet."

Tired of his overly obnoxious attitude, Y/N spun on her heel to get away from him, but she spun so carelessly and fast that she ended up bumping into another classmate who unfortunately was holding a full cup of beer that ended up being doused all over her white blouse.

"Oops! Sorry, my bad." He excused himself, looking completely unapologetic about the situation.

Meanwhile Y/N looked absolutely horrified as she took in the drenched state of her shirt that now had the stench of alcohol on it. The fact San was bursting out in giggles only served to make her even more mad.

"Now tell me how do you plan on explaining that to dear old-"

"Can it San or I swear I'll gauge your eyes out." She threatened him as she stormed out the building, not caring that she bumped into a few figures on her way out.

Feeling just a bit of empathy for his old friend, San sighed softly before following after her. Upon catching up to her, he took hold of her wrist and started dragging her in the opposite direction.

"Hey! Get your filthy hands off me! I will not hesitate to scream!" She tried tugging her arm away.

"Calm down I'm not planning on kidnapping or anything like that sweetheart. I'm taking you back to my car."

She let out a dry laugh at that.

"But that's not kidnapping?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I have a spare shirt in the backseat that you can change into. Unless you wanna go home smelling like PBR." He looked back to see the mess one more time, lips curling up into a smirk.

Against her better judgment, she allowed him to take her all the way where his car was parked, standing there quietly as San rummaged through the backseat before taking out a clean plain white tshirt and held it out to her.

"Here. Put it on."

She looked at him with a face that asked if he was stupid.

"Well what?" He asked.

"Oh yes..I'm totally going to strip in a middle of the street and let anyone passing by see." She rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh for fuck's sake, there's nobody here, nobody is going to see and frankly I don't think anyone cares about seeing your non existent boobs." He scorned at her as he gestured to her chest.

"Ok rude and uncalled for." She felt slightly hurt by his comment, having always been somewhat insecure about the size of her chest.

"Don't look." She warned him.

"Not like I want to." He jeered at her as he turned away to not only give her privacy, but to also serve as a lookout for anyone that might accidentally show up and see the scene. He could hear her behind him tearing off her clothes and then slipping it back on.

"Ok there. I'm done." Y/N announced as she stuffed the soiled shirt into her bag.

"Not even a thank you?" San pouted slightly, to which Y/N gave a feigned smile.

"Thanks."

With that said and done, she brushed past him and started walking away, absolutely done with the night.

"Careful not to get caught sneaking back inside your house." She heard San say from behind.

"For your information I'm not living with them anymore. I moved into the dorms 2 months ago." She stated in a matter of factly, a proud look on her face.

"Well in that case....want to ride back with me?" He offered.

"Yeah no, I'd rather take my chances at being kidnapped and then butchered up. Besides, I wouldn't want to cut your wild night short." She declined the offer.

"Stop being so negative Nancy and accept my generosity. Geez."

Running over to her, he quickly snatched her up and threw her over his shoulder, ignoring her shocked exclaims and protests.

"Now this is really kidnapping!" She declared.

"Yeah I know, now shut up before I duct tape that bratty mouth of yours." San grinned mischievously as he tossed her into the backseat and shut the door before striding over to get on the driver's seat.

"Oh come on. Stop looking at me like I'm a criminal. Just because I indulge in a few sins every now and then, doesn't make me into a bad person." He stated when he saw the dirty look she gave him.

"Whatever." She muttered as she locked in her seatbelt.

San opted for just driving back to the dorms and get Y/N tucked in her bed since it was clear to him she needed it.

╬╬═════════════╬╬

"You're lucky my roommate is on vacation, otherwise I would have left your ass back there." Y/N spewed out as she threw her keys onto her dresser.

"Thanks Y/N, I always said you were the nicest and most giving person in the planet." San complimented her as he felt he should given she was letting him stay the night in her dorm after a little tiny incident with his keys dropping inside one of the manholes surrounding the university. And the administration office wouldn't be open til the morning, meaning he was screwed unless his roommate showed up to let him in, but that was a definite no since San knew Seonghwa would definitely end up in someone else's bed and come back til the next day, hickeys plastered all over his neck and chest.

"No, you always said I was the most stuck up-"

San shushed her by pressing a hand over her mouth.

"You dwell so much on the present image of me you drew up in your head that you completely erased the friend you had all those years ago." He slid his hand off her mouth, shoulders slumping down as he turned away from her to crouch on the floor.

"That friend doesn't exist anymore, that is if he even existed in the first place. If I recall, my friend wasn't into parties, booze, vaping, tattoos, piercings and fucking around with every whore in the school."

San didn't say anything as he heard her ramble, he just let her talk away as she started pulling out spare blankets and pillows for him to use.

"My Sannie was sweet, cute, adorable, always ready to lend people help and respectful to others." She reminisced with a sad look. Pulling her expression straight, she laid out the blankets and started arranging them neatly on the floor.

"I still am."

San's voice was so quiet that she barely registered that he even opened his mouth in the first place, but she heard him.

"Maybe if you weren't so puffed up with pride and didn't cut me off after I cut ties with the church, you'd see that I'm still the way I was. You think I changed completely because of ink and metal on my body? Because I wanted to try certain substances and yes, satisfy some perfectly normal and humane needs?"

Y/N averted her gaze from him and continued the task she was in. San let out a despondent scoff.

"Of course you do. And yet didn't I just demonstrate to you back there that I haven't changed? Giving you my shirt, giving you a ride, yeah I know, it's not much and no big deal, but wasn't those the types of things I'd do even back then?"

Y/N's tongue poked against her cheek as she knew she couldn't deny that was San said was absolutely true. He did nothing different back at the party as he used to do years ago. Helping old ladies with grocery bags, giving away some of his clothes to less fortunate kids, he was always known as being such a giving and kind person.....

No wonder so many were devastated when it was announced he had resigned as a member of the church. Y/N herself was hurt and even indignated by his decision. And after that she adamantly refused to see him or talk to him, and of course San respected her decision and avoided contacting her so as to not make her uncomfortable. He understood that their friendship was broken and he wasn't going to overstep boundaries just to try and fix it when the other party didn't want it. So he just decided to live his life as he thought was right without his conscience bothering him. And he was much happier now, he felt free, something that he had never felt before. Perhaps he was so chained down by formality, discipline, strict regulations and even fear that he didn't realize that he was miserable all that time until his eyes were fully open and he found he didn't like what he saw, especially after seeing the dark and ugly side of what was supposed to be a safe and pure sanctuary. He was let down severely and he suffered in the process. But now that was behind him and he had no regrets......

Except Y/N. He truly missed her and her company. As he laid on the makeshift bed on the floor, he found himself unable to sleep as he recalled all those fond times spent with her. The trips to the lake, hiking, first day of school, their first accident after he had gotten his driver's license. He let out an involuntary smile at that memory. Unbeknownst to him, the girl on her bed was equally reminiscing on the old days filled with her best friend. She had been so alone ever since she distanced herself from him, the world now feeling empty and cold without him. Shifting around in her bed, she whined into her pillow as she desperate tried to sleep.

"What's the worst thing you've ever done?" Her question startled San momentarily.

"Are you that sleep deprived that you're suddenly asking me to confess my worst sins?" He chuckled amusedly.

"Maybe it'll help me get actual sleep, I don't know. And.... I'm just curious." She clutched one of her plushies and started messing around with it.

"Curiosity killed the cat and I don't think your virgin mind will be able to handle my confession." He asserted confidently.

"I'm not a virgin, but oh well. Just tell me, what's the worst?" Her casual response made San flip out. He sat upright and kneeled at the front of her bed with an incredulous look.

"What do you mean you're not a virgin? When did you-?" He was so flabbergasted he wouldn't even finish his sentence.

Rolling over to where he was, Y/N smirked at him.

"Uh uh. I asked you a question first and you have to answer it before I can answer any you want."

Knowing he had no alternative, San placed his chin on the top of her mattress.

"Had a threesome with 2 of our professors." He laughed when he saw how shocked Y/N looked.

"What?! No way!" She refused to believe him.

"It's true. I won't tell you who they were since you won't be able to look at them the same way if I did...... I'll just dish this: they both got really huge tits and it's a shame they're married." He admitted with a smug expression.

"I can't believe you." She fanned her face which she was sure was now a deep crimson color.

"Ok now your turn. When did this happen? Who was it with?"

Y/N didn't even mind that San got up and crawled into her bed to lay down next to her. His face was rested on his hands as he looked at her with intense inquisitiveness. Knowing she'd have to talk about it sooner or later, she thought it would be best if San was the one to know since he would never tell anyone else and he'd understand since he was tainted as well.

"Remember when that group of missionaries came to stay over at our city for a while back in high school?"

San nodded, vividly remembering everything. Y/N blushed and smiled shyly.

"Do you remember that there was a family with a son our age? Chase?"

San widened his eyes and flopped over on his back as his hands came to hide his face.

"Oh dear lord, please don't tell me it was that Canadian boy." He groaned in pain.

"Yeah....yeah it was."

San couldn't stop cringing at the thought of his friend doing such a thing.

"How even did that happen?" He was so lost.

"I don't know! It just did ok? It happened while we were out in that camping trip. Somewhere there, we were left alone and we started talking about everything and nothing til it spiraled into talking about sex and us being virgins decided to see what was the big deal....." She bit her lower lip as the memory flashed in her mind. Looking over at San, she knew he was judging her as she expected. A tiny snort escaped his lips.

"That must have been the worst 45 seconds of your life." He joked, earning him a slap on his chest by Y/N's hand.

"It was not 45 seconds!............. it was 2 minutes."

San only laughed harder at that, nearly crying from how funny it was to him. He composed himself though when he saw how embarrassed Y/N looked about it. Feeling bad for laughing at her expense, he cleared his throat and patted her head.

"It's ok. First times are always awkward and uncomfortable. The problem was you weren't prepared and you were both inexperienced. He just didn't know how to please you."

Y/N couldn't help herself as she asked:

"And I suppose you can?"

Flipping onto his stomach, San cupped her chin with his hand and ran his thumb across her lower lip.

"Don't tread on dangerous territory little angel lest you want an evil demon to corrupt you." He warned her, and although he wouldn't actually follow through on it, he did want to tease her a little. But he wasn't expecting for Y/N to play along to his teasing, only she was not joking at all as she brought her face closer to his.

"Maybe I want you to corrupt me, show me what I've been missing out on." She brushed her lips against his, tongue daring to poke out and press on his slit briefly, leaving him stunned.

"You have no idea what you're asking for princess." San mused as he held himself back from touching her.

"I know what I'm asking for Choi San and what I'm asking for....is you." She responded with confidence.

Escaping from underneath the blanket that covered her, Y/N reclined back on the mattress, her head laying on her soft pillow as she gestured for San to come over to her, which he promptly did. Parting her legs so he could fit his body between them, he smirked softly down at her eagerness, fingers brushing against the soft skin on her thighs.

"You're serious about this?" He wanted to make sure it wouldn't be something she'd regret.

"I already messed up once, what's one more time gonna do?" She pulled him down against her, not caring when he lost balance and accidentally crushed her under him with his muscular body.

"Besides...." Wanting to further entice him, Y/N brushed her lips against his ear.

"Look at me and tell me you don't want to fuck me. That you don't want to stuff that hard cock of yours into my tight and inexperienced pussy. Bet you're itching to tear into me until I'm crying under you. Don't you want that?"

San let out a moan at hearing such filthy and depraved talk from her. It only fueled his appetite and hunger for indulging in carnal desires.

"Yes... I want that.... I want you."

Closing space between them, San molded his lips over hers, encasing them in a sloppy and wet kiss. Y/N could faintly make out the leftover scent of alcohol and nicotine as she let him taste her mouth, but she didn't mind or felt grossed out by it. She just kept her lips parted and allowed him to move his tongue freely inside her. Cupping her cheeks, San continued to roll his tongue over hers, massaging it gently with both deep yet gentle strokes. When he pulled away, he made sure to tuck her bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it towards him as Y/N let out a moan that was like music to his ears. Pausing briefly, their lips were barely touching as they breathed in each other's air. San was the first one to break into a smile, the one that had Y/N melting since it displayed his dimples to the fullest.

"Never thought I'd hear that sound come out of your pretty mouth." He teased her.

"S-shut up." She frowned, hand reaching up to smack his chest.

"It's not a bad thing. I like it. Now let's see if I can make sure you keep them up."

Stuffing his face into her neck, San ghosted his lips across her skin, tongue subtly poking out solely to hear her breath hitch slightly. Dipping his tongue into her collarbone, his lips opened up so they could firmly latch and spread wet kisses across her neck. Y/N gasped when she felt teeth sink down, head tilting back to give San more room which he took advantage of. Focusing on particular spots that he knew she was sensitive in, he sucked her skin into his mouth. Each time he pulled away, he reveled when he saw the finished mark that was now painted on her skin.

"I would love to see your parent's reaction to my love bites." He brushed a fingers across the newest spot he just embedded in her body, hand then reaching up to suddenly clasp around her neck. Y/N shuddered when his grip got tighter, her oxygen intake getting cut and making her feel hazy, but it was nonetheless enjoyable. Snaking a hand under her shirt, or more like his shirt, San swiped his tongue over his bottom lip as he started to pull the material up.

"How about I make some matching ones all across your pretty chest?"

Before he could lift the shirt any further, Y/N's hand clasped around his wrist, preventing him from moving any further.

"Don't." She begged him.

San retracted his hands away from her, fearing he made her uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry." He immediately apologized and began to move away from her, but Y/N's hands raked against his thighs to keep him in place.

"No, it's not you. It's just..... if we're going to do this, can I keep the shirt on? I don't...." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she admitted an insecurity of hers.

"I don't like my chest. My boobs are too small, it's unflattering and I'd rather you not see them." She slowly opened her eyes to see his reaction. San had a sad look on his face, bottom lip poking out as his fingers came up to brush against her cheek. Remembering what he had previously said back in the parking loyal, he felt terrible for saying that ill intended joke about her body. He probably hurt her and he didn't realize it.

"Y/N don't say that. Your chest size doesn't matter. You're beautiful the way you are and I bet underneath that layer is clothing there is the cutest and most adorable set of boobs in the world." She let out an involuntary giggle at his words, letting him run his hand down her clothed sternum.

"But if that's what you want, I'll respect it. Either way, my tshirt looks amazing on you." He acknowledged rather cockily.

Shifting further back, San took hold of the top of her shorts, making sure to look at her.

"Are you ok with these coming off?"

Y/N resisted the temptation to slap the top of his head.

"If you don't take them off, how are you going to fuck me genius?" She retorted.

"You'd be surprised at what I've learned." He uttered, mostly to himself than at her.

Like an expert, he practically tore her shorts down her legs, panties falling to the floor along with them. Y/N let out a soft squeal when he took hold of her thighs and brought her down so his face was at eye level with her most intimate part. San took a few seconds to admire her bare mound, lips parted and threatening to start drooling all over her thighs. Pressing both thumbs against each one is her lips, San pried her folds open, staring intently as he now clearly saw all of her.

"Oh fuck. I'm gonna need to prep you real good. I can tell you're going to be really tight."

She wanted to ask him what he meant by prep, but her words got caught in her throat when she felt his tongue delve into her core. She had never felt someone's mouth anywhere near her folds and she regretted not having experienced it before. Her eyes shut tight as she marveled at the sensation of San's tongue lapping at her bud, his lips making sure to enclose all around the flesh surrounding it before giving it gentle suckles. Shaky breaths blew out from her mouth, her legs wanting to close themselves around San's head but his firm grip on her thighs kept it from happening. He kept her knees pinned to the bed as his mouth continued to ravish at her taste, sloppily consuming her heat fervently. Her mind was so occupied in what he was doing that she didn't register the hand that slowly crept away from her thigh until she felt something poke at her entrance.

"Oh-" She gasped, opening her eyes to see what was going on.

"Relax princess. It's just my finger.....for now." He momentarily pulled off her heat to let her know what was happening before diving back in to continue his task of eating her out.

His finger inside her felt a little weird at first, sliding in slowly before pulling out only to plunge itself back into her. During one of those times where she expected him to slide back in, she was surprised when she felt herself being stretched out as San curled a second finger inside her. Keeping them lodged there, he began scissoring them alternatively so he could further spread her walls apart. During one of those movements, his fingertips brushed along her hood, making her hips slightly jolt up into San's face, who smiled against her folds as he now knew exactly where to angle his hips for later. Using this new knowledge, that was probably unbeknownst to Y/N, he slipped his fingers deeper into her, knuckles deep as he moved his tips rhythmically on the the spot he found. Y/N's mouth fell wide open into an 'O' as whiny gasps and airy moans poured out of it. San's mouth latched to her clit and his fingers working deep in her hole was producing a stirring in the lower pit of her stomach that she couldn't quite make out. But it felt good, especially since it continued to grow more and more, almost as if it was a cord about to snap.

"San- wait. I feel, I feel-" She couldn't finish her sentence as her body trembled slightly, a flood of overwhelming pleasure washing over her that was prolonged by San drinking up the juices that spilled forth out of her body. He didn't pull away until he made sure to swallow every drop she had to give.

"Aren't you grossed out?" She asked him, always having wondered about that.

"Nope. I love licking girl's pussies, especially if they're as sweet as yours." He affirmed while pulling his shirt off his body.

Y/N turned her flustered face away from him, keeping her gaze locked on the wall to her right, which was decorated with several polaroids of her with her family, friends and members of her church, some of them even had San in them, back when they were inseparable. Before she could become nostalgic, a strong set of hands clutched her chin and teared her gaze away from the pictures, forcing her to stare at the now naked man in front of her.

"Forget about that for now. Right now I want your full attention on me and what we're about to do. After we're done, that image of a good girl you have will gone." His words seemed to almost taunt her.

Although she tried not to look, Y/N's eyes fell in between San's legs, filled with astonishment when she glimpsed for the very first time at her former friend's member, fully erect and leaking at the tip as it awaited to be hugged by her warm walls.

"Like it? Maybe later I'll let you play with it." San giggled when her eyes shot up at him in surprise.

Placing himself to hover above her, he hummed lowly as he slowly stuffed himself inside her, working her open until he was fully nestled inside her warmth. Although she felt a light burn scraping against her inner walls, it wasn't unpleasant or painful like her first time. She could tell San knew exactly what he was doing as he began rolling his hips. Perfectly recalling exactly where to aim at, he made sure to angle his thrusts accordingly so each time he pushed back in, he'd hit her pleasure spot.

"Oh God-" Y/N exclaimed when he continued to brushed against the hood of her core.

"Really think it's a good idea to call out the good lord's name when I'm balls deep inside your pussy?" He asked with a malicious smirk plastered across his face.

"No baby. Tonight your only lord is me."

Pinning her wrists above her head, San continued pushing his cock deeper into her. The harsh pounding of his hips against hers was becoming louder, their bodies starting to get heated and producing sweat. Y/N couldn't do anything but whimper and wrap her legs around San's waist, keeping him firmly locked to her body. She closed her eyes once more as she felt the same familiar feeling from before start piling up, only it felt more intense and stronger probably due to the fact that she was getting railed to her bed by her ex best friend, whom she still cared about deeply. She was definitely not planning on making up with him this way, but holy hell, she couldn't deny that he was making her feel so many emotions at once. Pleasure, lust, satisfaction, happiness, euphoria, love? Perhaps that last one was definitely a stretch, but she blamed her confused thoughts on how well his cock was abusing her hole. She felt unable to focus on anything except him.

"Clenching so hard around me babygirl. Are you gonna cum all over my cock?"

Slipping one hand in between their bodies, San pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing it back and forth so it would serve as an extra push to tip her over the edge. Y/N splayed her hands on San's lower back, nails raking against his skin, causing him to hiss.

"Fuck- am I seriously making you feel that good babygirl?" He knew for a fact he was feeling absolutely amazing, her tight warmth gripping along his shaft, making it hard for him to hold back much longer.

"Mmm yeah." She shamelessly moaned.

"Am I better than your first?" Although he already knew the answer, he still wanted to feed his ego and hear her say it.

"So much better! It feels so fucking good." She inhaled sharply when that she began to feel the sensation from before. With even louder cries from before, her body shook underneath San's, blood rushing to her head as an even greater orgasm coursed through her body. She was left speechless, a full on panting mess even after San had pulled out of her after helping her ride out her high.

"Oh geez. Shit." San's voice rasped out as he jerked himself off, his cum painting her thighs white, not stopping until he had finished coating them with everything he had to give.

Looking down at the mess, Y/N couldn't suppress a tiny giggle, one of her hands clasping over her mouth while the other picked up some of his cum and spread it between her fingers.

"Having fun there?" San grinned, finding her fascinated gaze to be completely adorable to him.

"Yeah.." She said as sat up to get a better look at the cum around her thighs.

"Well I was going to clean it off you, but seeing as you're so entertained by it, I'll just leave you with it."

Not forgetting that he was merely a guest, San slid himself off her bed and plopped his tired body onto the blankets on the floor. Closing his eyes, he was thinking he would finally be able to sleep, but he found his plans thwarted when he felt a pair of hands graze across his chest. Looking up, he found Y/N straddling his lap, biting down on her lower lip as she grinded her wet folds along his softened dick which was now becoming hard again thanks to her.

"What in the world are you doing you crazy girl?" He sucked in a breath, not expecting her to suddenly pounce on him.

"I wanna try that again." She pleaded, grinding her hips harder on him.

"Oh my- did I accidentally turn you into a nymphomaniac?" She chuckled at his joke and although he groaned as if he was frustrated, he obliged to her wishes and sat up.

Clasping her waist with his hands, he lifted her up and guided her so she could easily sink herself down on his length. Not letting go, he slowly rolled his hips up, burying himself deep in her body once more. Since they were both still riled up from their previous session, it didn't take long for both of them to start spewing out a clutter of moans and grunts as they once again get lost in a mist of lust that clouded their minds. San drunk up every expression on Y/N's face. Every twitch of her facial muscles, every shuddering breath she exhaled, each time her eyelids shut close, he marveled at seeing her enjoy the experience. He loved seeing her indulge in such an intimate practice with him, more so given how special she was to him, one of the most important people in his life aside from his family. Looking down at her torso, his fingers brushed along the hem of her shirt.

"Please...." His urging caught her attention.

"Please let me see all of you. I want to admire every inch of you and your beautiful body. I promise I won't laugh or judge. I just want to worship you."

Y/N hesitated briefly, still afraid to let him see what was hidden under the shirt.

"It's ok if you don't want to. I won't force you." He shot a kind smile at her as he focused back on making sure to drive his cock up into her.

Feeling safe and knowing she could trust her lifelong friend whom she thought of as a soulmate at one point, Y/N reached for the bottom of her shirt and peeled it off her body. Coming face to face with her bare chest, San groaned in ecstasy as he slid his hands up her body.

"Just as I predicted, you have very cute breasts."

Pulling her chest to his face, he opened his mouth and took one of her nipples in it, swirling his tongue around it before sucking on it. Y/N's fingers raked themselves through his hair, harshly tugging them when she felt his teeth sink themselves into her flesh.

"Aren't they too small?" She inquired.

Letting go of her breast with an audible pop, San cupped her chin.

"No baby, they're absolutely perfect. They're gorgeous, just like every other part of your body. You're gorgeous, absolutely stunning and holy fuck, you're driving me insane honestly." He confessed, his mouth diving into her other breast so it wouldn't feel left out from being tenderly kissed and sucked on.

His words sunk deep in Y/N's heart. He really did found her beautiful, attractive and it spurred something in her. Feeling a newfound passion, Y/N unconsciously began taking over their movements. Pushing against his thrusts, she began to set her own pace, rutting herself on top of his dick. San of course took notice and was happy about it.

"Oh wanna take over now baby? Well go ahead."

Laying back down on the floor, his eyes stared up at her with lust.

"Fuck yourself on me darling."

Encouraged by him, Y/N began bouncing herself on his cock. Finding an angle that she liked, she sunk down on his length over and over, her head thrown back as she used his body to push her down another spiral of immense pleasure. San just relaxed and admired the way she lost herself and gave into her deepest desires. He loved the way she rode his cock, and he loved feeling her walls tighten once more around his shaft.

"Oh shit- Sannie." She cried out his name as she quivered on top of him, her juices spilling out onto his cock once more.

Knowing fully well she was probably aching between her thighs, San gripped her hips and helped her ride out her climax so the feeling she was going through wouldn't go away just yet. He made sure to be gentle, easing her up and down his cock with absolute tenderness. Once he knew she was satisfied, he pulled her of him and set her down on the floor before sitting up above her body. Just like before, he took hold of his cock and began pumping his cum out of his body, plastering it all across her inner thighs and even splattering some on her stomach. Looking up, Y/N had the same giggly expression as before.

"Does my cum really make you burst into a fit of giggles?" He questioned her.

"I can't help it. It's just... I don't know. Maybe it's the fact it's so dirty and wrong, and then to have you spread it all over my body." She explained, which made San chuckle.

"Maybe I should baptize your thighs with my cum more often." Although he was joking, Y/N was more than willing to take him up on that offer.

"Will you?" She looked up at him with puppy eyes.

San studied her for a moment, before a wicked idea popped in his brain.

"How about you let me baptize and stain that pretty face of yours?"

Getting a hint of what he meant, Y/N got up on her knees while San stood up right in front of her, cock in hand as he brought it up to her lips.

"I hope you weren't planning on going to morning services tomorrow because I'm going to keep you up til morning until your knees hurt."

805 notes · View notes

the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Everybody Talks Too Much (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Mute!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence Summary: Whenever Cassandra gets angry, no one wants to deal with her. Well, no one but you, that is. Thankfully, the middle child appreciates your company... not that she'd ever admit it. Notes: Another self-indulgent fic with a selectively mute reader. This one's a lil different. Sections in italic are mostly indications that the reader is miming actions in order to communicate, though there are a few internal thoughts that are marked as such. Unlike the past two I've done, this takes place pre-relationship, so there's some mutual pining of sorts. I think that's the word.

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

Among the many servants of Castle Dimitrescu, there were a number of secret rules to be followed. Guidelines that were never written down, only spoken in hushed whispers, for specific (and dangerous) circumstances. Most could be divided into one of two categories: 1, how to reduce the chances of a Lady of the house killing someone. 2, how to make sure that if they kill someone, it will not be you. Of these rules, there was one that you knew best of all, despite never having been told it. Why? Because you have observed it time and time again. After all, the rule revolved around you. To put it plainly… If Cassandra Dimitrescu was in an awful mood, but had yet to draw blood, send in the mute.

Even now, as you rushed down a corridor, you did not know why this rule was in place. You simply knew that you had been summoned countless times by frantic maidens, to go serve their volatile mistress. Admittedly you did understand their eagerness to thrust the task upon someone else. Cassandra was often considered the deadliest of the Dimitrescu daughters, for she was the quickest to anger, the one with the deepest bloodlust, and took the longest to calm down. Personally, you disagreed, believing that it wasn’t terribly hard to know what she did and did not like. All it took was some observation. It was Daniela who scared you, seeing as she was unpredictable. She didn’t even need to be in a bad mood to want to kill you.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that you saw no danger in working with Cassandra. In fact, you saw a fair bit, such as now: Right as you round the corner, a shiny object hurls past your head, embedding itself into the wall. Had you been walking ever so slightly faster… Well, you preferred not to dwell on such things, especially not when the one who threw the thing was still nearby. Based on the howling laughter and swarm of insects that moves around you, the intended target was Lady Daniela. Across the room is the markswoman herself; Cassandra stood tall, huffing in anger, staring at the spot her sister had just vacated from.

“Damn it!” She yelled, stomping her foot as if the resulting shockwave might do what her weapon had not. Oddly amused, you’re quick to remove the sickle from the wall, careful as to not damage it. It’s a tad dirty, but nothing you can’t fix with your handy pocket cloth. Cleaning as you walk, you slowly move towards your employer, not even bothering to spare her a glance. After all, you had your own rules for dealing with her.

(1: Avoid eye contact for at least one minute after an outburst.)

By the time you make it to Cassandra, the minute has come and gone, allowing you to ever-so politely look her in the eyes when you return her blade. She scoffs, then practically rips the sickle from your hands. This was your job, however, so you made no complaints. Not that you could, at least not verbally. Instead, you gave a short bow of acknowledgement. Afterwards you stood still, awaiting either instructions or a dismissal. Neither came.

“I can’t believe that little shit tried to take my favorite dagger and thought she could get away with it! Agh, the nerve of her! Can you believe this?” Cassandra snapped, turning to you as if you might agree with her. Nod, simple yet effective. “At least you know how to handle a blade. Damn Daniela is lucky she didn’t get any scratches on mine.” Then she pulls the knife in question from its place on her belt, letting it gleam in the light. A soft exhale, head tipping to the side, wow is it pretty. So is the one holding it. Your mind wanders but your gaze does not. Always polite, always ready to serve.

(2: Do not get distracted; she is no patient lover, rather a demanding boss.)

“Cassandra! What was all that noise a minute ago?” Someone called, interrupting your ‘conversation’. The speaker soon appears, being none other than Lady Bela, the most reasonable of the castle residents. Though that meant little, considering the nature of her family. As if to prove your point, Cassandra merely rolls her eyes in reply, refusing to divulge the truth. And so Bela turned her gaze to you, perking a brow. “Feeling up to talking today?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Of course, your hands are already moving, not even waiting for her to finish speaking. This is a game you know intimately.

A hand goes to your belt, moving to pull a nonexistent blade from its sheath. Raising it, moving it forward then back several times, launching it towards the wall- towards the hole left behind. Then shifting, waving your hand in front of your face while exhaling a sharp breath. Flinching. An exaggerated gulp, pretending to check if your nose is still attached, sighing in relief. Lastly, an inclination of your head towards the culprit. Cassandra.

“I was aiming for Daniela. Not that it matters, nobody got hurt,” she stated, confident. Both hands clasped together, then tapping the palms together, mimicking a heartbeat at a reasonable pace. Suddenly a stomp. The beating stops, and you hold your hands next to your ear, as if listening for signs of life. Pause. Three seconds. Worried expression, eyes wide. Finally, fast as a gunshot, the heart beats again, wildly. At this, Bela shoots her sister a look of doubt, as well as judgement. Hoping to change the subject, Cassandra looks to you. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Rubbing your chin, thinking. Squinting for effect. Ah, got it! Both hands go to your sides, lifting the imaginary hem of a dress you aren’t wearing. Waltzing forward, yet in place, with the poise expected of a professional maid. Then the focus shifts to your face. Fear. A silent scream, a hand at your forehead, feeling like you… might… faint. Falling backwards, making a step at the very last second to prevent a real collapse. End scene.

“Someone was scared?” Bela asked, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of herself. When you nod, she does as well, considering the implications. “Why would they send you?”

“I hardly care why, I just want to know who so I can kick their ass,” Cassandra interjects, taking a step closer to you. All you do in response is shrug. Unsurprisingly this is not enough to please her, and before you know it she’s wrapped a hand around your throat. “Give. Me. A. Name. Now.” A perked brow. Thoughts practically telegraphed. ‘What do you expect?’ Opening your mouth, slightly, then wide, back to almost closed. No sound comes out. Obviously. It’s not like you wanted to break your own rule, but in this case you had no choice.

(3: Give her whatever she wants, consequences be damned.)

Luckily for you, Bela acts as a foil to Cassandra, there to smooth the seas. Moving behind you, she reaches into your back pocket and retrieves the notepad you keep there. Then she’s handing it to you while making eye contact with her sister. Cassandra promptly releases you, though she’s clearly not pleased, going so far as to push you away in one last act of anger. Internally you roll your eyes. On the outside, however, you quickly write down everything you know… which isn’t much.

“I don’t remember who it was. A lot of people have asked. This happens a lot.” Then you hand the paper to Bela, who soon looks back up at you in confusion. Too antsy to wait for her own turn, Cassandra yoinks the notepad from her sister’s hands, reading it over several times before reacting.

“What the fuck? Why would they send you to me because somebody pissed their pants in fear? I’m going to kill someone. Ugh, I don’t- this doesn’t make any goddamn sense,” Cassandra ranted, pacing back and forth, looking like she wanted to destroy something immediately. To your surprise, Bela doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned. If anything, she looks amused, and smiles when the two of you make eye contact. Something tells you that she knows something that you don’t. Before you can react, she quietly retrieves your notepad and returns it to you. Then she pauses, thinking, eying you with curiosity.

“Why don’t you go for now? See if anyone thanks you for stepping in, hmm?” She suggested, tone implying that this was absolutely about something else entirely. Still, you don’t care to disobey, and so you bid the two of them farewell with a deep bow. As you leave, you can almost make out part of what they say next. But you’re certain that you must have heard incorrectly. “Showing your favoritism a little too much, sister? If even the servants can see it-” the rest of the sentence is cut off by angry muttering from Cassandra. After that you’re too far away to hear anymore. What a strange day...

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

“Hey, you know where Lady Cassandra’s room is, right?” Ygritte asked, casually, definitely not having just been told by someone else that you were the solution to her problem. Pretending that you were unaware of this, you give her a smile and a nod. Later, behind her back, you will mentally add her to your list of people to watch out for. Maybe even decide to refuse to share your biscuits with her. In the meantime, you pretend that you don’t mind whatever task she’s about to dump on you. “Can you bring these books to her? I really have to get back to the kitchen soon, and that’s in the opposite direction…”

Technically true. Something told you that the real problem was that Cassandra had been extra loud the past few days. Regardless, you accept the books from her, leaving before she even finishes thanking you. Why do people do this? I don’t get it, you think. It’s like they think I’m immune to her rage. If that were true, I’d gladly throw myself between her and others. But no, that’s not the case. Hmmph, if only they saw my scars. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you keep walking, subconsciously rubbing the spot on your arm where Cassandra had cut you. Well, the worst spot. Being pain tolerant had made her take interest in you, during your first few weeks, but it’s what allowed you to learn her rules. Your rules, really.

Knock. Knock. A pause… three more, much softer. The door swings open, revealing your Lady, whose eyes widen at the sight of you. Tipping your hat (which you are not wearing), you greet her, forcing another smile. Then you present the books, free hand gesturing with a spiral motion towards them. She doesn’t respond. No, wait, she glances at the door hinges, considering closing the door in your face. Now both of you are staring at each other, daring the other to move.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she finally said. There’s a gruffness to her voice that you hadn’t expected. It’s unlike her usual tone, less angry, more tired. Were those bags under her eyes?... No, just smudged makeup. “Don’t just stand there- tell me why you’re here.” Again, you gesture to the books, extending your hands further towards her. This time she takes a half-step backwards to avoid you. Peculiar. “Someone else was supposed to bring them, dipshit. Fucking hell, why can’t anyone around here do their damn jobs?” At last, she takes the books from you, carrying them deeper into your room. Though she does not close the door, you assume that your job is done. Or maybe you simply do not wish to deal with a Cassandra who’s frustrated by your specific presence. Either way, it breaks one of your rules, though you do not remember until it is too late.

(4: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family.)

“Where the hell are you going?” The sound of buzzing flies, a blur of motion around you, then the form of Cassandra solidifying in front of you. One of her hands is raised, pressing against the center of your chest. She pushes you, hard, making you stumble backwards into her room. Next thing you know you’ve crashed onto her floor. A tad stunned, you bring a hand up to hold your head, blinking rapidly for a few seconds. There’s the sound of a door closing, and then someone’s trying to help you stand. “I didn’t say you could leave yet. Now c’mon, I’ve got stuff for you to do.” Then she’s guiding you to her bed, making you sit down on the end. Panicked thoughts race through your mind one after another. What exactly was she intending? Thankfully you don’t have to wait long to find out. “Read through these, and-” a pause, like she hadn’t known what she was going to say until she was already speaking- “take notes. Make a summary of the bookmarked sections, or whatever.” Handing you a couple books (neither of which being ones you had just brought to her), she sits on the other side of the bed, refusing to look at you. She does, however, say one last thing, voice barely above a whisper. “Just stay for a while, okay?”

Inside your head, you make a mental note to amend your list of rules.

(4.b: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family. If Cassandra asks you to stay, you stay, no matter what. It’s worth it.)

#cassandra dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #stayed up to write this #totes worth it

310 notes · View notes

seiijohhh · 3 years

Text

the slow demise [1/?]

summary: He’d found you coated in blood, surrounded by death, and decided then and there, you were perfect. pairing: megumi fushiguro x f!gojo!reader a/n: this has been reposted from my original account @justauthoring -- so, if you recognize it, that’s why. im also tagging those who originally requested to be tagged in it, so they know where to find future parts. tags: @thatprofessionalfangirl - @sugarandsoft - @honeyy-honeyy-sweets - @strawberryflavoredjeans - @flowersbloominthedark - @juliajempire - @princess-bumblebee - @sageandberries-png - @yue-caelum - @a–nonymousse - @aryksworld - @godsentkita - @kat-su-ki

part one - part two - part three - part four

“This is a hundred percent your fault.”

Deadpanned, Fushiguro glowers down at you. “How is this my fault.”

“Dunno,” you shrug, stretching your arms above your head with an exaggerated sigh, making sure to keep your eyes trained on Fushiguro. Your intent is to make him feel guilty (even if he is right, it isn’t his fault) but that’s far easier said then done. The boy’s as stoic as ever. “Just is.”

“It was about time you came back to the school anyway,” Fushiguro huffs, and you blink slightly at the somewhat distressed tone of his voice – that was definitely off.

He doesn’t let you dwell on it very long before he’s walking off ahead of you, glancing around the rugby field the both of you found yourselves on. Purely because of curse power that basically reeked from it.

“I never was part of Jujutsu High School,” you cut in, rushing to catch up with him. “So I wouldn’t be returning. I’m not returning.” He turns to look at you, to which you glare at him, hoping that’ll make it perfectly clear. But he merely shrugs, not even bothering to respond to you, turning back to the field.

Huffing, you cross your arms over your chest, glancing down just as a curse pops beneath the veil, gurgling and groaning, before disappearing from sight once more. “What’s with this rugby field anyway?” You call out, turning to look over your shoulder at Fushiguro whose gone off the other direction. “Is there a dead body buried here or something?”

“Even if there is,” Fushiguro mumbles, and you turn to see the same curse from before climbing up a pole, “I’m surprised to see one this high-leveled. It’s probably a grade two curse.” Then, meeting your eyes, he frowns. “Must be that cursed objects influence.”

Shuffling on your feet slightly, you glance up at it; “should we exorcise it?”

“Nah,” Fushiguro shrugs, walking past you and up the steps from the field.

Frowning, you glance back at the curse before moving to catch up with Fushiguro. “Why not? It could hurt somebody, the schools littered with stupid teenagers all day.”

“Nobodies walking on this field,” he gestures to the sign in front of him. “Not for a long time anyway.”

Eyeing the sign the blocks off the entrance to the rugby field, reading the words ‘No Unauthorized Entry’, you shrug. You were just tagging along because he forced you to, no need to put in anymore effort then necessary if Fushiguro wasn’t going to.

“Still, it’s presence is too strong to pin down. It feels like it’s close by, but it could still be far away, too. This special-grade curse is really a pain.”

Glancing over the boys shoulder at the photo of the curse he’d been provided, you raise a brow; “it’s been moved, right?” Fushiguro nods, “who could’ve been stupid enough to move it? And where is it now?”

“I have–”

“Over here! Coach Takagi is taking on Itadori from West Middle.”

“Woah, what are they competing for?”

Blinking at the new, bolstering voices, your head turns in the direction before your eyes gleam with excitement. Now, this is what you called exciting. Tugging on the sleeve of Fushiguro’s shirt, you turn to him with a gleam in his eyes; “we have to watch, Megumi!”

“We should really look for the–”

But you’re already pulling him along by the wrist, barely giving him any time to argue further, making it just in time to see what you assume is the coach previously mentioned lugging a weighted ball across the field. He throws it a respective distance, eyes lighting up with excitement as he cheers himself on in celebration.

“Fourteen meters!”

“Oooh,” you sing, clasping your hands in front of you.

Fushiguro eyes you, “what’s so exciting about track and field?”

Turning to him, you laugh; “it’s so…. simple!”

“Simple?”

“Yeah!” You nod eagerly. “I mean, we train every day, exercise curses every other day, but everyone here,” you gesture around you to the kids the exact same age as you, “has no idea and is living a perfectly normal teenage kid’s life. It’s… It’s amazing.”

You’re back to the scene before you, eyes caught by a shade of bright pink, that you don’t notice Fushiguro’s wandering gaze. You’d said it all with a smile on your face, but Fushiguro couldn’t help but notice the absolute longing in your gaze as you watched.

His attention, however, is caught by the growing volume of the crowd as they all cheer on ‘Itadori’ – the boy with pink hair and lanky arms that nearly topples over when the weighted ball is dropped into his hands. However, he swings it with ease and your jaw all but drops when it tosses it as if it weighed nothing, soaring through the air.

“Uh, roughly thirty meters.”

You turn to Fushiguro with a blank expression; “that wasn’t simple.”

All Fushiguro can do is nod.

“Or normal.”

Tugging you forward, Fushiguro and you come to a stop in front of the boy and who can assume is his friends. Knowing Fushiguro is doing the same, you pause, eyeing the boy.

“No curse energy.”

You nod, “pretty amazing.”

“I wonder if he’s like Zen’in-senpai.”

You shrug; “maybe.”

“Well, c’mon,” he sets a hand against your back, gently guiding you forward, “we should start looking for the–”

“Megumi!”

Pulling him back and out of the way from the approaching steps, your head turns in time just to see the boy from before, Itadori, racing past the both of you, with incredible speed. However, it’s the sharp shock of cursed energy you feel the second he runs past and the pair of eyes that seem to stare deep within your sole that have you gasping for air, blinking in surprise.

“Hey! You!” Fushiguro calls, obviously having sensed the same thing, but it’s hopeless – the boys too quick.

“Y/N,” Fushiguro calls, setting a hand on your back as you press your own against your chest. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, shaking your head. “I’m fine.” Then, meeting his eyes, you glance in the direction Itadori had run off. “Are you going to follow him?”

“Try to, at least,” he huffs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You felt it too, yeah?”

“Nearly took my breath away,” you sigh, “but I think I should stay here.”

His brows furrow; “why?”

“I can still sense it here.”

Fushiguro frowns, glancing in the direction of the boy before back at you, lips pursed and worry clear in his gaze. He may pretend not to care, but it’s moments like these the truth bleeds through.

Shaking your head, you huff; “go.” You nod at him, “I’ll be fine. It’s not like I have been sitting on my ass these past months,” you tease lightly, sending him a wink but Fushiguro continues to just stare down at you, causing you to sigh.

“I’ll call you the second something shows up.”

He nods, content, moving to walk off.

“But Megumi?”

He glances back at you, brow raised.

“You call too, okay?” And at the look he sends you, you keep your face impassive, nodding; “the second something happens.”

With a simple nod, he’s off.

You really should’ve trained more.

“Fuck!”

Ignoring the pang that radiates throughout your entire body, and the blood that fades into your vision, you push yourself up, pressed against the wall. Originally, you’d thought that you’d be able to control the curse for just long enough that it’d let go of the two students it was trying to swallow and then you’d focus on getting the curse.

Fushiguro would scold you – tell you that getting the curse was the first priority, but you could stomach the thought of sacrificing lives just for a single finger. Even if that finger was one part of a whole to an incredibly strong, the strongest of all, King of Curses, Sukuna…

None of it really matter however – the finger was making the curse stronger, and you could barely control it for a second before you’d been flung back by your own power. Now, both kids and the finger were about to be swallowed, and you had no idea what to do.

And your phone had been crushed long ago that you had no way of contacting Fushiguro. You had no idea where he was or if he’d be coming back; which meant you were utterly and completely alone.

Ducking from a hit made directly for your head, you slipped past, sliding your hand along the body of the curse, infusing it with your curse power. You used speed you didn’t know you could still have with a pounding head and blurring vision, pointing your left point finger up, the right down, thumbs connection; “Cursed Technique; Domination: The Imprisonment Of One!” before flipping your hands.

The curse stops, your heart thumping and chest panging, but you can barely focus on that when you need to move fast. Rushing forward, you slide to your hip, moving to strike your hand up. And you land a good hit, moving to grab the girl first, before something wraps around your ankle, and pulls you up and away before flinging you across the hall.

You smack into the ground, rolling, your chest seizing as the wind is knocked out of you. Your vision darkens for a moment, and you think you’re going to pass out, but the pain is all too conscious and you realize with a huff that your ankle has been sprained with how it had thrown you.

“Fuck!” You call again, putting all strength in your hands to sit up.

“Y/N!”

Relief floods you almost instantly. You may be half awake, but you’d recognize that voice from anywhere. Hands land on you, and a small smile curls onto your lips almost subconsciously when you find Fushiguro staring down at you. His eyes flicker across your entire body taking in the blood and wounds, before meeting your eyes.

“It’s strong,” you huff, voice raspy, “I can’t hold it and fight.”

Glancing back, Fushiguro growls; “it’s trying to swallow her along with the cursed object?”

“I can hold it,” you call, grabbing his arm and squeezing, pulling his eyes back on you.

“Y/N, you can barely–”

“Just go! I can do it,” you interrupt, voice sharp, “you just have to–”

You’re interrupted by the sound of glass shattering, and before you know it a blur of familiar pink is flickering across your eyes once more. Your eyes widen when you realize it’s the boy from before, Itadori. What the hell was he doing here?

“Itadori!” Fushiguro calls, just as stunned as you. He moves to a stand in front of you, blocking you from sight, and huffing, you lean forward, trying to find the strength to stand.

He grabs the two students, pulling them from the curses grasp, making your eyes bulge in surprise – how did he…?

“So, this is a cruse? Not what I was expecting.”

Pushing yourself to a stand, ignoring the way your ankle throbs, you grab Fushiguro firm around the arm; “Megumi, what the hell is he doing here?”

Sighing, Fushiguro shakes his head; “it’s a long story.” And with a final glance forward, he steps towards the curse, exorcising with one more simple hit since it no longer has the finger so close in it’s grasp, before he moves towards Itadori.

“Honestly,” you huff quietly to yourself, “I leave him alone for a few hours and he’s already dragging an innocent kid into this.”

“I want to ask you what you’re doing here,” Fushiguro calls to him, his demon dogs snacking on the curse behind him, “but good job.”

“Not good job,” you growl, leaning on the wall for support as you glare at the two boys, specifically Itadori; “you could’ve gotten seriously injured,” you ignore the pointed look Fushiguro sends you, “or worse, killed.”

“Why so haughty?” The boy tilts his head; “by the way, what’s that munching on the curse?”

“My shikagami,” Fushiguro answers, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You can see them, then? Normally a curse can’t be seen. Not unless you’re on the verge of death or in special places like this.”

“Oh,” Itadori’s lips part in understanding; “I’ve never seen a ghost or anything before tonight.”

Lips parted, you eye the boy; “you’re not scared?”

“Well, I was scared for a bit,” he answers honestly, still holding his classmate in his arms. “But did you know? People really can die.”

“Y/N, help me!”

“Please. Y/N, stop…!”

“I… I–I can’t–I don’t–!”

Blinking, you force the memory away, shaking your head.

“Huh?”

“So I at least want the people I know to have proper deaths.”

“You’re killing us!”

Pressing your hand against the wall, your breath hitches, Fushiguro turning to you in concern briefly before turning back to Itadori as moves to stand; “not that I really get it myself.” And as he does, the curse slips from his classmate’s skirt pocket, catching it with ease reflexes; “this it?”

“Yeah,” Fushiguro nods, “that’s the special-grade cursed object, Ryomen Sukuna’s finger. It’s a miracle it didn’t get swallowed, though, I think that’s mainly thanks to Y/N,” both eyes fall on you, to which you offer a half-smile.

“Why would anything eat it?” Is the first question that leaves Itadori’s lips, “is it tasty?”

“Don’t be stupid,” you cut in, shaking your head, “you’d do it to gain stronger cursed energy.”

“It’s dangerous,” Fushiguro adds, holding his palm out; “so hand it over already.”

“Sure, sure.”

You notice it a second too late, the curse from above.

“Megumi–!”

You move to pull him back, just as he pushed Itadori out of the way, but the sudden weight on your ankle causes you to lose balance and instead, the hand from above crashes directly onto Megumi. Dust and debris make everything blurry for a moment, but the huge curse holding Megumi is easy to spot as your eyes widen in panic.

“Megumi!”

“Fushiguro!”

It pulls Megumi to it’s mouth, but Fushiguro makes quick hand signs, calling for another one of his shikagami; Nue. However, before he can, a burst of lightening flashes from the curse and he’s slammed against the wall, blood splurting from his lips. Heart racing, you move to stand once more, cursing the way your ankle throbs and throws you off balance once more.

Before you know it, the curse is breaking a hole through the concrete and sending Fushiguro flying through it.

“No…” Teeth clenching, you turn to Itadori who looks torn between helping you and rushing after Fushiguro.

“Go!” You call, shaking your head and ignoring the worry in your chest; you were the one to scold Fushiguro for bring an innocent kid into this fight and now you were sending him off to save your comrade. But this was the only option. Fushiguro wouldn’t last on his own, so, if Itadori could just hold off the curse long enough for you to get your bearings, it’d be okay. “Help him! Please!”

Itadori doesn’t need another word otherwise.

“Get up!” You call to yourself, the bangs and commotion from outside causing your heart soar. “No one else dies because of you, remember? That was your promise!”

Forcing yourself to your feet, you ignore the pang and force the other foot to step in front of you the other. It takes you a minute, but when you look out the gaping hole in the wall and get a good look at what’s happened; you can tell you’d made a severe error in judgement.

“There is a way to save everyone!”

He can’t be serious…

“I just need some cursed energy, right, Fushiguro?”

He really is.

He just… ate Sukuna’s finger…

You just cost a boy his life…

Then, a flash of cursed energy burst from him, ripping the curses hands to shreds, and your eyes widen. It couldn’t be possible. That was rare, incredibly rare…

But the markings that start to cover his skin and the cursed energy pooling around him tell you otherwise.

Itadori… no, Sukuna destroys the curse in one hit.

His laugh echoes, even from where you’re stood, his claws clear as day to your eyes, you’re unable to look away. “I knew it!” He laughs, his voice more deep, twisted then Itadori’s; “the light feels best in the flesh!” Shredding his hoody into pieces without any effort, Sukuna races towards the edge of the roof, glancing at the open area. “A cursed spirit’s flesh is so boring. Where are the people? The women?!

“What a wonderful era to be in. Women and children are crawling everywhere like maggots. Wonderful! It’ll be a massacre!”

But then he’s pulled back, a hand gripping his own jaw, feet stammering backwards; “what do you think you’re doing with my body? Give it back.”

It’s Itadori’s voice.

“How are you able to move?” Sukuna.

“I mean, it’s my body.” Itadori.

“Don’t move,” Fushiguro calls out, voice sharp; “you’re no longer human.” And he crouches, hands moving to make the necessary signs. “Under Jujutsu regulations, Itadori Yuji, I will exorcise you as a curse!”

“Wait, Megumi–!”

You’re suddenly picked up in a pair of arms, a flash of white and purple, before, somehow, you’re behind Fushiguro.

“What’s the situation?”

Turning to the person carrying you, you glower when you realize it’s him.

“Gojo-sensei?! Why are you here?”

Setting you down carefully, he smiles at Fushiguro; “hey! I wasn’t planning on coming, but man,” his eyes drift from you to Fushiguro, “you’re both roughed up. I should show the second years.” He starts to take pictures, specifically of Fushiguro, to which you slap him sharply on the arm.

Huffing, you glare up at him; “never mind that, I’ve told you to stop doing that with me!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he waves you off, “but you looked a little stuck.”

Flushing, you turn away from him.

“The higher-ups wouldn’t shut up with a special-grade cursed object gone missing,” he moves to explain, “so I stopped by while doing some sightseeing. So, did you find it?”

“Um,” Itadori slowly speaks up, raising his hand as Gojo turns to him; “sorry, but I ate it.”

There’s a pause, then; “for real.”

And all at once, all three of you answer; “for real.”

Gently letting go of you, Gojo sets you against the rock the Fushiguro’s leaning on, and you notice the way your vision blurs in response, dark peering in around the edges, before blinking it away and focusing on Gojo. He’s stepped towards Itadori, leaning forward with his head in his hands, eyeing him closely.

After a moment, he lets out a laugh; “damn, it really did combine with you. That’s hilarious.” He steps back, as nonchalant as ever. “Anything off with your body?”

Looking at his arm, Itadori shrugs; “not particularly.”

“Can you swap out with Sukuna?”

Your eyes widen.

“Sukuna?”

“The curse you ate.”

“Oh,” Itadori shuffles on his feet, “yeah, I think I can do that.”

You really, at this point, shouldn’t be surprise.

Moving away for more room, Gojo lowers into a crouch, stretching out; “then, give us ten seconds. Once ten seconds are up, come back to us.”

“But…” Itadori tries to argue.

“Don’t worry,” Gojo calls out with a smug grin, “I’m the strongest.”

“Megumi,” he calls out, “hold this.”

He tosses the bag that’s been in his hands this entire time, and, falling to a seat next Fushiguro, you curiously peek in.

“What is it?”

“Kikifuki from Kikusuian,” he explains, still stretching, and your eyes dull. “It’s Sendai’s specialty, and it’s super good. I recommend the zunda and cream flavour.”

“You went out and bought mochi while people nearly died!” You call, glaring at him.

“It’s not a souvenir, and it’s not just mochi,” he turns to grin at you and Fushiguro, “I’m going to eat it on the bullet train home.”

Yeah, and I think I’m going to throw up.

“Behind you!”

Gojo is barely phased by Fushiguro’s call, and even as Sukuna gains on him he continues to explain; “Kikufuku’s not like other souvenirs…” Before there’s a crash, dust flooding your already wobbling vision. Fushiguro pushes you behind him, arm outstretched as you both prepare for impact, only for you to open your eyes and see Sukuna directly before you, Gojo sitting on him.

“And the whipped cream inside is simply exquisite…”

You can’t focus on the fight. Things start to fade and the sounds of a fight almost seem like it’s miles away. Your skin feels hot, sweat beading on it, and the edges of your vision is turning black; except this time it isn’t fading away. You feel tired, extremely so, all strength fading. You don’t hear Fushiguro call for you, nor do you feel your body falling.

It’s okay though, right?

After all, despite how annoying he can be, you know you can trust Gojo…

He really is the strongest.

A little girl covered in red, coated in it.

Bodies surround her. Torn, ripped apart, limbs apart from bodies, heads apart from bodies.

Everything is silent except for the sound of wailing.

Loud, screaming wailing. Sobs retching, coughs echoing, but the girl doesn’t move, even as she sobs.

She’s frozen in place.

Terrifed.

“I can help you, don’t you trust me?”

“What’s this? Who are you?”

“So little to be covered in so much blood.”

“How about I train you, huh?”

“I’ll help you control them.”

“All of them.”

Eyes blinking open, you frown at the familiar ceiling above you.

You were home. Or at least, your room. It didn’t feel like home to you, but the soft cushion beneath you was definitely comforting with the lasting panging in your head.

Raising your arm, you glance at yourself, the faint bruises, before pushing yourself up so you’re sitting. A small groan leaves your lips, but you ignore the pain, pulling back the sheets to glance at your ankle; it’s been wrapped and treated, but you’re sure that if you were to try and walk on it, it’d still hurt.

You were alive, but you hated being stuck bedridden.

Head falling, you sigh; you wonder what happened with Itadori and Sukuna–

“I’m visiting Y/N.”

“Oooh! I want to say hi, I never properly introduced myself.”

Clearly, he was still alive.

Eyes flickering over to your bedroom door, you simply smile as Fushiguro pops his head in, making sure you’re awake before inviting himself further inside. Itadori bops in after him excitedly, a happy grin on his face despite his scenario which you could only imagine, and of course; Gojo behind the two, smiling down at you.

“Glad to see you both okay,” you smile softly at the two, eyes lingering on Fushiguro’s a little longer.

“You gave us a quite a scare,” Gojo comments, leaning against the frame of your door. “Passing out like that.”

Rubbing the back of your neck abashedly, you let out a small laugh, flushing slightly at the intense look Fushiguro regards you with. “Guess I hit my head harder then I thought,” you mumble, “sorry…”

There’s an echo of silence, and hating it, you hurriedly turn to Itadori.

Sticking your hand out, you grin; “Y/N Gojo,” you laugh at the wide look in his eyes, “it looks like you and me are classmates.”

But honestly, the widened looks on both Satoru and Fushiguro are way better.

“What?” You call to Fushiguro who hasn’t stopped staring at you; “I’d miss all the fun if I didn’t come back to school now.”

And at that, Fushiguro lets a small smile curl onto his lips, Gojo clapping his hands like a small child as he calls out cheerfully “I knew you’d change your mind!” all while Itadori continues to stare at you blankly.

“Gojo?”

137 notes · View notes