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minkyungseokie · 19 days

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Three’s A Crowd II | Pierre Gasly + Kika Gomes

synopsis; pierre and kika are still trying to get the oblivious and feeling denying y/n to realize just how in love they are with her, but y/n refuses to believe it

warnings; poly, gxg, throuple, homophobia, internalized homophobia, hateful family,

mentions of weaponizing religion, questioning someone’s faith, verbal and physical abuse, and disowning a minor

This is not meant to offend anyone. This is singing both me and a couple I know have experienced.

note; not requested

note2; bruh, I had so much trouble writing this and getting it out. I had so many ideas, but no way of excecuting any of it.

Sorry if this isn’t good enough. I tried to put this off until i could come up with something, but I didn’t want to leave ya hanging

Let's ignore the one in light mode. Also, I know people have lives, but the slug like rate F1 fics are being posted concerns me lol.

Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Pierre Masterlist

I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.

Y/n sighed. She had woken up due to the sensation of needing to go to the bathroom and the room being way too hot, only to find Pierre and Kika wrapped around her as if she were a tree and they were sloths. Well, more like Kika was holding onto her as if she was a sloth and Y/n was a tree, with her arms wrapped around Y/n's neck loosely and her leg thrown over her hips. Pierre was also clinging onto her, but he somehow ended up on top of her, which was why she was in her current predicament.

She desperately needed to pee, but she didn't want to wake them up. She needed the time before they woke up to fully think about how she felt.

She wanted to confess to the couple every minute she spent with them. Her heart told her to confess and finally get the love she had been yearning for, but her head told her no. Her head told her that she was disgusting for liking two people at once, her head told her that she is a homewrecker for liking both of them and possibly breaking them up,, her head told her to protect her heart from rejection and keep the friendship rather than sacrifice it for her selfish feelings.

She had so much going on inside her head that she needed to leave the room right them or else she'd break down and she would rather not have to explain why she's having a random breakdown in the bed.

Y/n managed to get Pierre off of her and wrapped around Kika instead before jumping out of bed and hightailing it to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet and wrapped her arms around herself. She couldn't get into a relationship even if she was willing to ruin her friendship. Despite her saying that she was confident and secure in her sexuality, she really wasn't.

Being raised in a highly homophobic environment where she was taught to be a submissive house wife and her brother was raised in the mindset of a toxic "alpha" male. Y/n may have been kicked out because she didn't take in the teachings her parents tried to force into her mind, but she was still raised in a household where being different was disgusting for twenty years of her life.

It was a hard mindset to get rid of without the correct help and, to be quite honest, she never talked to anyone about it other than Pascale Leclerc, who wanted to put Y/n into therapy. If Y/n didn't basically have a panic attack when the therapist tried to pry too far, too fast, things probably would've been different.

Y/n tried to swallow the lump in her throat and keep the tears from exiting her tear ducts. Y/n began to sniffles and furiously wipe her eyes as the tears fell down her face.

Kika stretched as Pierre got out of the bed and put on a shirt, "Where's Y/n?" Kika asked, scratching her head. "Not sure. She was gone when I woke up. Maybe the bathroom since the door is closed." Pierre shrugged, leaning over to kiss the model. Kika stood up and walked up to the bathroom door, "Hey, Minha linda. Are you okay in there?" Kika spoke, knocking on the thick wooden door.

Y/n didn't answer.

"Minha linda?" Kika called out, pressing her ear to the door to see if she could hear any movement or the shower. Kika's heart lurched when she heard labored breathing rather than the sound of water running, "Y/n?! Are you okay? Can I come in, please?" Kika asked worriedly, putting a hand on the doorknob.

Pierre looked over at the sound of his girlfriend's panicked voice. The French man dropped what was in his hand and marched over to his girlfriend's side, "What's wrong, mon cœur?" Pierre questioned worriedly. "I think something's wrong with Y/n. She seems to be in distress." Kika answered, turning back to the door and trying the doorknob.

It was locked just as she thought.

"Y/n? Please let us in. We just want to make sure that you're okay." Pierre spoke up, knocking on the door gently, but there was no answer. Kika put her ear to the door to see if she could hear more, only to hear hyperventilating, "She's hyperventilating. We have to get in there." Kika said, "There's a key right here just in case." Pierre explained, reaching up to grab a key off the doorframe. Kika snatched the key and fumbled trying to put it in the keyhole, "Stop, stop, stop. Kika, look at me. I need you to take a deep breath and calm down. Panicking will not help our Y/n." Pierre soothed.

Kika nodded, taking a few deep breaths. In, out, in, out.

Now calmed, Kika inserted the key into the keyhole and unlocked the door. Pierre grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open, "Oh, shit. She's having a panic attack." Pierre cursed. "I'm going to touch you, is that alright?" Pierre asked, hands hovering over Y/n's body, waiting until he got permission before sitting on the floor and pulling Y/n into his lap with Kika sitting right next to them looking up what to do when one is having a panic attack, "Okay, first step is to remain calm and ask them if they need anything." Kika instructed.

"Do you need anything, mon cœur?" Pierre muttered, holding Y/n to his chest. Y/n shook her head, but her panic attack ensued, "Can you raise up a hand for me?" Kika asked, hovering a hand over Y/n's back. Y/n shakily held up a hand and kept it there until Kika told her to put it back down. Kika had the girl repeat the action until her breathing calmed only a bit.

Pierre took Y/n's head and gently put it on his chest, "Can you hear me breathing?" Pierre inquired, earning a nod from Y/n. "Good, now I need you to try a breathe with me. Just try to copy my breathing." Pierre suggested. Pierre took Y/n's hand, Kika took the other one, and placed it on his chest.

Pierre began to take deep breaths until Y/n began to try and copy, "I'm proud of you. Good job." Kika praised, stroking Y/n's curls, "That's it, my girl. Concentrate on your breathing. Stay in the present." Pierre said. "You can get through this." Kika encouraged, placing a kiss on Y/n's forehead.

The couple continued to praise and say words of affirmation until she stopped hyperventilating, but she was still breathing hard and shaking, "Hey, gorgeous. Can you look at me?" Kika asked, placing her hands on Y/n's thighs, gently stroking them as a form of comfort. Y/n turned and looked Kika in the eyes, "That's my girl. Can you name three objects you see for me, hm?" Kika queried.

Y/n's eyes darted around frantically, "Hey, don't stress yourself out. It's okay. You don't need to search. Just name me the first three things you see." Kika gently ordered.

Y/n nodded and took a shaky breath, "Bru-brush, um, r-ring, and...and, um, shoes." Y/n stuttered, looking around.

"Good girl." Pierre praised, stroking Y/n's arm comfortingly, "That's perfect. You're doing amazing. Now, can you name me the things you can hear?" Kika asked. "Yo-you, the wind, a-and Pierre's breathing." Y/n let out a sigh, "Great, not move three body parts." Kika said. Y/n wiggles her toes, then her fingers, and then her ankle. "That's it. You did perfect, chérie." Pierre praised, "You did so amazing. I'm so proud of you." Kika joined the praising.

Y/n took a couple of more breaths and stood up, "Thank you. For helping." Y/n thanked in a dull voice. "Do you want to tell us what caused your panic attack?" Pierre asked, "It's just...I..." Y/n hesitated, Kika reached over and put a hand on Y/n's thigh again, "It's okay. You don't have to tell us if you aren't ready." Kika spoke, "We're here if you want to though." Pierre added.

"I just started thinking about...someone I really like and I began thinking about my family. They weren't the...they didn't like... they were homophobic and when I thought about them. I thought I was confident in my preferences, but I realized just how much my parents teachings affected me." Y/n explained, "Internalized homophobia, I guess."

Pierre and Kika shared a look, "You're...your parents didn't accept the fact that you liked more than men?" Kika asked, "Yeah, they said that the Bible is against same sex love. Just like all the other Christians who hate the LGBTQ, they use the Bible to "prove" their views. I asked my mother, who caught me kissing my best friend, where in the Bible did it say that loving someone of the same sex and she slapped me." Y/n chuckled.

As Y/n talked, she slid down until her head was in Pierre's lap and her bottom was in Kika's. Kika played with Y/n's shirt while Pierre ran his hand through her hair the best he could but since it was curly, he had to settle for scratching her head. "And then what happened?" Kika asked, urging Y/n to continue, "She allowed me to stay for a bit longer, in the house, but there was constant verbal and physical abuse." Y/n swallowed.

"She thought that if they treated me the way others in the world would treat me, it'd convert me. They tried sending me to conversion therapy, but we got into a fight and I got kicked out. Luckily, the Leclerc's took me in and raised me to be the way I am now. I owe them my life. They're the only family I have now and they've tried to help me, but I refused therapy. I thought I had the right mindset, but now I realize that...I'm not as tough as i thought and the family's tracings did, in fact, get to me." Y/n sighed before realizing she was ranting about problems that they weren't apart of.

Y/n didn't realize just how comfortable she felt around them until she was spilling her past to them. “I just realized I’m trauma dumping to you. I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to hear this.” Y/n started to sit up, but Pierre pulled her back down while Kika gently pushed her down. “Mon cœur, if we didn’t want to hear, we wouldn’t have asked. We care about you. We…we love you and we want to hear things about you.” Pierre said, “The good or the bad. We want to know whatever it is you want to tell us.” Kika added.

Y/n looked into Pierre’s ocean blue eyes before locking eyes with Kika. The couple stared at Y/n expectantly, “What?” Y/n asked, eyes darting between the two. Pierre groaned and Kika sighed, Pierre thought she would get what they meant when he said it, but maybe saying it constantly as friends didn’t help.

They would have to find a way to confess that couldn’t be confused as a friendly gesture.

After getting dressed for the day, the three set off to walk around town. They were planning on showing Y/n around Italy by taking her to their favorite spots. Making sure her hands never left theirs or a hand was on her body at all times, they showed her all their favorite places before stopping at a cafe for lunch.

“Ah, this place is so cool,” Y/n said, swinging their connected hands back and forth, “Yeah? Do you think you can make it home? I know you’ve been thinking about moving to Italy or are you staying in Monaco?” Kika questioned. “Maybe. I mean, my family’s in Monaco, but you and Pierre are in Italy. So far, I think that I’m team Italy.” Y/n said absentmindedly.

Kika and Pierre shared an excited look. “Tonight. We tell her tonight.” Pierre mouthed to Kika, who agreed. They’d be confessing their love to Y/n tonight during dinner.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Y/n sat on the beach while Kika and Pierre played in the water. She smiled and took some pictures for Instagram and Twitter later, knowing that Pierre would want some for the photo dump he posted sometimes before the next GP. The girl scrolled through Instagram, just looking at whatever her friends posted and looking at reels until she noticed one with her name in it.

Twitter/X when Y/n, Pierre, and Kika look so cute together, but they can't see it.

With the caption reading, 'I don't understand how they can be so obvious and oblivious at the same time.'

Y/n scrambled onto Twitter to find that she indeed was trending alongside Kika and Pierre. Pressing onto the hashtag with her name on it, she read the posts to see what people were saying

Y/n lowered her phone and stared ahead with wide eyes. Had she actually been missing the signs that Pierre and Kika had been throwing her? They were normally super close. Always touching and being super close, so it was hard for her to tell they wanted to be more than friends.

Y/n looked up at the blue sky, trying to think of anything that could've been seen as a hint as that they wanted to be more than friends with Y/n. Nothing came to mind until she started cycling through the things that they usually do with her throughout the years.

The kissing.

Y/n had never had that type of interaction between any of them before this year. She didn’t know when it started, but she knew it just happened one day and she never questioned it. Her forehead, her temple, her nose, her cheeks, her hands, and the top of her head. Now that she thought about it, there were times where they were close to kissing her lips and she just someone hadn’t noticed.

“What’s got you so concentrated?” Pierre’s voice spoke from behind her as he sat down so that she was between his legs, “Yeah, what’s got your attention like that?” Kika questioned, sitting in between Y/n’s legs.

“Ah, it’s nothing. I was just…thinking about stuff.” Y/n waved off their concern, wrapping her arms around the slightly older model while leaning against Pierre. “Are you sure? You looked deep in thought when we came up. We even called you, but you didn’t answer.” Kika said, “Everything is fine. Again, I was just thinking about something. Do you think we can get some gelato?” Y/n asked, quickly changing the subject.

Kika sat up excitedly, “Ooo, gelato sounds perfect. It’s a good idea. Let’s go!” Kika grabbed Y/n’s hand and ran to the nearest gelato shop, “Wait, Ki. What about Pierre?” Y/n asked, looking at the man who was still sitting on the beach with a confused look on his face. “We’ll get him some too. I just wanted to spend some time alone with you, even if it’s just a couple of minutes.” Kika flirted, batting her pretty little lashes at Y/n.

Y/n practically melted in her flip flops.

Now that she has been made aware that the two openly flirt with her, she was going to try and see it. She could now see that Kika tended to use her large brown eyes to her advantage and it always worked on her unknowingly.

“You’re adorable.” Y/n muttered, pinching Kika’s cheeks causing the girl to groan and slap her hands away, “Stop! You’re acting like my grandmother.” Kika whined. The girls walked up to the counter and ordered their gelatos with Pierre getting bacio, Kika getting stracciatella, and Y/n getting lampone.

“Pierre, we’ve got you gelato!” Y/n sung, playfully swaying hips in a weird dance as the two girls approached the man. “What did you get me?” Pierre asked, grabbing the gelato from Y/n’s hands, “Bacio.” Kika answered, “Mmm, lampone is so good. Do you two want to try?” Y/n asked, holding out a spoonful of her gelato out for Pierre.

Pierre stared into her eyes as he took the spoon in his mouth and licked his lips once she took the spoon back, “Cheeky.” Y/n whispered, turning to feed Kika some of it as well.

Y/n decided that if they were really into her, she’d openly flirt with them and let them make the first move. She wasn’t going to take the word of people online and possibly break up their perfect friendship or the couple’s relationship. If anything were to happen, she’d have to let them to do it to make sure that she doesn’t cross any boundaries and make them uncomfortable. “That real is good. Do you want some of mine?” Pierre asked. The trio kept feeding each other spoonful of gelato and making jokes.

Y/n began to feel uncomfortable with how bright the sun was. She reached into her bag and pulled it sunscreen, “We need to put this on. Tans are amazing, but possible skin cancer is not.” Y/n waved the bottle around. Y/n opened the bottle only to have it snatched out of her hand, “Hey!” Y/n gasped, looking at Pierre, “I’ll help you put it on.” Pierre offered. “I’d this and excuse to touch my ass?” Y/n teased, looking at Pierre through narrowed lids, “Who knows?” Pierre shrugged, smiling at the curly-haired girl.

Y/n lifted her hair up so that Pierre could get her neck, “Kika, sit in front of me. I’ll get you covered if you need sunscreen.” Y/n offered, pulling out another bottle of sunscreen. “Yes, please.” Kika crawled in between Y/n’s legs, putting her hair into a bun so none of the sunscreen got into it.

Y/n sat up so that she was on her knees with her legs in an “L” shape. Y/n opened the sunscreen bottle and began applying it to Kika when she felt Pierre’s hands brushing sand off her ass and then sunscreen being applied to her butt and thighs, “I feel like you’re having too much fun touching my ass, Mr. Gasly.” Y/n hummed, “Maybe I am.” Pierre played along, “You hear this, Kiki? We might have to run away together and leave Pierre behind.” Y/n joked as the model laid on her stomach to give Y/n better access to her body.

Y/n sighed, looking through her Instagram feed with a bored expression on her face. Kika and Pierre had gone out to do lord knows what while she stayed in the villa. Y/n groaned, throwing her phone on the bed. Maybe they were were on a date together and that's why they were taking so long to come back.

Y/n got off the bed and grabbed a towel, going to take a shower while waiting for the couple to come back from doing whatever it was that they were doing. Stepping out of the shower and wrapping the towel around her body, Y/n walked out into the bedroom and grabbed her lotion, deodorant, and stuff for her hair. Just as she was about to remove the towel, the door to the bedroom opened up.

“Merde, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were getting dressed.” Pierre cursed, turning so he wasn’t looking at her body anymore, “Shit, you scared me. You’re lucky that i didn’t take off my towel.” Y/n scolded. “Sorry!” Pierre apologized, but he didn’t make the move to leave the room. “Pierre, what’s taking so long?” Kika asked, pushing past him to see Y/n in nothing but a towel.

Kika pulled an outfit out of a bag and tossed it on the bed, “Here put that on and come out when you’re done.” Kika ordered, pulling Pierre out of the doorway and shut the door behind her. Y/n moisturized her body and held up the outfit that was tossed to her. She recognized that this was an outfit that she had bought when she and Kika went shopping together before the trip.

(If you don’t like the outfit, feel free to imagine your own. Just needs to be black)

She didn’t realize she had packed it.

Y/n put on a pair of boots, put her hair in twin buns, and (put on makeup or not. Your choice) walked out of the room to see that Kika and Pierre are also dolled up. Kika in a black mini dress and heels, and Pierre wearing black pants with thin white lines that crossed to male squares and a black button down.

“You guys look good!” Y/n spoke up, grabbing their attention. Pierre and Kika’s eyes scanned her body like they were staring and analyzing a piece of art, “You look amazing, minha vida.” Kika complimented, “So do you! My gosh, your legs are gorgeous.” Y/n said. Kika’s cheeks turned pink, “Oh, thank you. Pierre, didn’t she look good?” Kika asked, turning to Pierre, who was still staring at Y/n, but with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Pierre? Please stop staring.” Y/n said, looking away nervously, “Pierre.” Kika hissed, nudging her boyfriend. Pierre snapped back to attention and gave Y/n and wrapped an arm around Kika’s waist, “You look nice, chérie.” Pierre said, holding out his arm for Y/n to take.

Y/n looked at his arm and reluctantly took it. Even if the people on Twitter were right, Y/n still felt like she was home wrecking their relationship, which is why she decided to let them take control and comes if they really did like her. Y/n cleared her throat, “So, uh, where are we going?” Y/n asked as Pierre led the two of them to his car, opening the door and pushing the seat forward so Y/n could get into the back. “Out.” Pierre amswered cheekily, “But out where?” Y/n questioned as she put on her seatbelt, “We’re just going out for dinner. It’s the last day of our break together before Suzuka.” Kika explained.

Y/n nodded and looked out the window of the car. The only people who were talking were Kika and Pierre, who were mumbling low so she couldn’t hear what they were saying. Y/n was getting annoyed. After rubbing sunscreen on each others bodies, she thought they’d be more open and flirtatious with her, but it seemed like they were just pulling away more.

Maybe the people online were wrong. Maybe they were just seeing things and upon seeing something that wasn’t actually there, they convinced Y/n that the couple had wanted her the way she wanted them. Y/n sighed and looked down at her hands, maybe she was just being…what do the fans call it? Delulu?

Maybe she was being delulu when it came to her relationship with Kika and Pierre. She had an entire panic attack over being in love with another woman and possibly breaking up a relationship and it turns out it might’ve been justified. The woman’s mood soured right then and there. She didn’t want to go out anymore, but remained quiet because it wasn’t their fault she deluded herself into thinking that they’d love her the way she loved them.

“Y/n? We’re here.” Kika spoke, poking her with her mini Kelly, “Oh? Yeah, I’m coming.” Y/n said, trying not to let the emotion she was feeling bored into her voice. Y/n exited the car, ignoring the hand Pierre was offering to her and walked in the restaurant ahead of the couple, “Does she seem upset to you?” Kika asked, “Yeah, I don’t know. Are you sure we should do this tonight?” Pierre inquired. “We should. It might improve her mood.” Kika said.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It was well into the night and meals were halfway eaten by the time the two were ready to confess. Y/n was just ready to go home because she was tired and didn’t want to continue third wheeling. At the same time, she had no right to be upset when she was the one who deluded herself into thinking they genuinely were interested. Kika wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin before putting it down, "Y/n, there's something we have to--"

"Excuse me."

A new voice interrupted Kika's sentence causing all eyes to turn to the person who interrupted the said woman. It was a gorgeous man with red and black dyed hair, "Hello, can I help you?" Y/n asked politely, "I apologize if this straightforward, but I just thought you were beautiful and wanted to ask if you wanted to come hang out with me." The guy said. Y/n wasn't really interested in him the way he was with her, but she was kind of upset and tired of being the third wheel on this outing, so she didn't see why she couldn't get to know someone new.

The man held out a hand for her to take if she was interested. Y/n looked at the hand and put her hand into his, "Do you guys mind if I go with him? You can make this a date or something." Y/n said, standing up. "It is a date so you can't leave!" Kika blurted, "What do you mean by that, Kika?" Y/n asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Y/n, we just wanted to spend time with you before we all had to go back to our respective jobs. We don't want you blowing us off for some random ass-- person you just met." Pierre spoke, "Then it should be alright if he sits with us, right? And what were you going to say before you changed the word to person? " Y/n questioned. She wasn't trying to be difficult or break up the time they were spending together, but instead trying to take her mind off of the couple and maybe fall in love with someone available.

"Nothing. He was going to say nothing. Y/n, please sit down and let him go. We are just trying to have a nice evening with you." Kika said, "Kika, I understand that and I'm sorry for trying to invite some random dude out of the blue, but I was tired of being the third-wheel. I want to have someone to talk to while you're being all lovey dovey with each other." Y/n sighed, turning to the guy. "I'm sorry, but can we rain check?" Y/n asked

The man pulled a pen out of his pocket and grabbed a paper napkin nearby, bending down and using the table to write something on the napkin, "Don't worry about it. Finish hanging out with your friends and call me whenever. The name's Milo by the way." The guy said, gently placing the paper into her hands.

"It was lovely meeting you." Y/n said, waving as he left. Once Milo was gone, Y/n turned to the couple with a scowl before taking a deep breathe and sitting down. "Listen, Y/n. We didn't mean to ruin your chances at possibly meeting someone you could have a future connection with, but--" "It's fine. It's whatever. I was... never mind. I'm sorry. I'm just not feeling it tonight." Y/n sighed again.

"And that's fine. We are sorry as well. Right, Pierre?" Kika asked, turning to her boyfriend, "No." Pierre answered causing both girl's heads to shoot up, "What?" Kika gasped, "What do you mean by "no"?" Y/n asked. "I meant no. Listen, I'm sorry you feel like the third wheel and I'm sorry you felt like we weren't giving you enough attention..."

"Pierre, what are you..." Kika started

"We actually invited you to this trip because we had something we've been meaning ot tell you..." Pierre continued

"Pierre..." Kika warned.

"We both love you and before you say that you love us too, we love you. As in, we want you to be our girlfrien--" "Pierre!" Kika hissed, hoping to cut him off before Y/n could fully hear him, but it seemed like it was too late. Y/n sighed, "I know that this is a--''

"Finally. I thought I was being delusional." Y/n gave a sigh of relief. The couple shared a confused look before looking to Y/n, "What do you mean by that?" Pierre questioned, "You think I'd let you touch my ass if I didn't like you? I was oblivious for the first part, but something enlightened me and I saw that it was pretty obvious." Y/n shrugged.

"We were trying to make it obvious, but we didn't expect you to actually get the hints." Kika muttered, "I'm oblivious, not stupid." Y/n joked. "So that finally means I can do this." Pierre surged forward and kissed Y/n deeply, "Pierre, we're still the restaurant." Kika said, pulling him back until he let go of Y/n.

"Wow, I didn't expect that." Y/n said, "You guys go wait by the car while I pay." Pierre suggested. Kika grabbed Y/n's hand and lead her outside while Pierre called the waiter so he could pay the bill.

Pierre also ordered a bottle of wine to go before exiting the resturant to see his girlfriend cuddled up to Y/n. Both girls had dopey smiles on their faces and Y/n had Kika's lipstick smeared on her lips, which gave Pierre an idea of what went on while he was paying. "This means you'll take us as your lovers, no?" Pierre asked, "Yeah, of course." Y/n nodded.

Kika cheered, throwing her arms around the two taller people, bringing them into a group hug. "Ah! Amo-vos muito." Kika muttered, burying her head in Pierre's neck, "Je vous aime tous les deux beaucoup." Pierre spoke before Y/n said it in her own native language.

The trio then went home as a newly formed throuple.

I'm sorry I rushed the ending and at one point I had no idea where this was going. I might take this down and rewrite it, but for now, here's you part two

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ohtobeleah · 3 months

Text

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Ten: [The Potato Head Society & The Other Guy, Jarred?]

Summary: Jake helps you shave your head in hopes of keeping your power and control. Facing your own mortality makes you question your faith in a higher authority and Jensen and Jake met for the first, and what you hope, will be the last time.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion

Word Count: 4.2K

Author Note: It's no secret I've been having a little bit of a rough go on this hell-site as of late. But I'm still here, working on this series. Seeing your weblogs, comments and concepts truly mean the world to me. so please, don't be hesitant to share.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“My only real advice for this kind of thing is this.” Jensen sighed as he stood on the steps of his townhouse with you. Coffee in one hand, end of life brochure in the other. Things had taken a rather drastic turn for him in the last few days. After your birthday, his health started to drastically diminish–so much so that his doctors weren’t too sure how much time there was left to combat the cancerous cells spreading through his body. “Go right through it.” Jensen smiled, never once did you ever see his positivity falter. “Like right through it, feel it all, be in it, don't avoid it because the moment you start avoiding it is when it's truly won.”

Little Sammy held your hand as you stood next to Jensen–he was too young to understand that the man talking to you was dying, hell, you weren't even sure if you understood the significance of the pamphlet Jensen had picked up after your first CCA meeting. He’d told you it was for a friend, little did you know that friend was standing right in front of you.

The Cancer Counseling Association held biweekly meetings at the hospital. You hadn’t planned on attending when your oncologist, Doctor Morrison, had first mentioned it. But when Jensen said he’d been going almost religiously for three years? You thought, what's the harm?

The harm was it was depressing as fuck.

“You go completely in the tough times, feel everything and get out the other end of it all.” You’d asked Jensen something along the lines of how he’d managed to keep fighting all this time and still be so positive about life and all its underwhelming rewards. He was for the most part, a happy guy despite it all. But even the strongest of soldiers have an achilles heel.

Jensens just so happened to be the fact you were forbidden fruit, he wasn't about to tread on another man's toes. Especially when he was tiptoeing towards the sweet release of death's gentle hands. None of that stopped his heart from racing whenever you smiled though.

“Many of these things you don't have a choice in.” Jensen continued as his eyes lingered down to little two year old Sammy who stood holding your hand in his. If anything you needed the encouragement to fight this battle for your children. “You know, fuck, whats that expression?” Jensen mulled it over as you chuckled, still standing on the path right outside his street facing townhouse. “Uhh–oh yeah! It's not how well you walked through the fire, but how you walked through it regardless.”

“I think I'm just barely crawling through the flames right now–” You answered honestly. There wasn't a nice way to say he’d looked better than he did right now, with sunken eyes and skin that looked as if all the life had been drained from his soul.

So you never mentioned it.

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“So—“ The library wasn’t Jake Seresins favourite place to go, but there was someone who made the isles of hard covered literature easier to understand that always seemed to draw him in. Like a moth to a flame. “Did you have a good Christmas?” The silence that followed as you stared across the desk where you were processing returned textbooks had Jake's heart racing, he couldn’t read you and that fact made him all the more nervous. “Or not? If you’re Jewish maybe? Don’t celebrate Christmas that’s cool too I just thought—“ You had to giggle at the college football star standing across from the reception desk with his elbows leaning on the ledge. Your smile was pure happiness, it wasn’t hard to make Jake's heart melt inside his chest—a chest he once thought was hollow.

“I had a wonderful Christmas, I went home to visit my mum, she always says that if the Christians can steal Christmas from the pagans then us non-religious folk can celebrate too.” You shrugged your shoulders politely as you kept checking off the returned textbooks from students who’d taken them home over the summer.

“What do you mean when you say the Christians stole Christmas?” Jake Seresin grew up in an incredibly conservative, extremely religious household that attended church every Sunday rain hail or shine. Jake swore his mother nearly spontaneously combusted when he had to stay in hospital overnight after having his appendix removed. It was a Saturday afternoon when they’d presented to the emergency room—poor old Janeen nearly dropped dead at the mere thought of her ten year old missing church the next morning.

“Lord have mercy upon us, for we have sinned.” Jake could still remember his mother crying vividly when he woke after surgery. Even at ten he knew his mother was somewhat of an overly sensitive soul.

“Well technically, in order to convert the Germanic pagans who, like, celebrated the winter solstice and stuff—the Christians were like, fuck it, let’s just say that Jesus was born on this day and you can hang tinsel and stuff.” Again, you shrugged your shoulders like it was common knowledge, but as Jake stared down at you with confusion swirling in his emerald eyes, you thought for a split second that maybe this was actually news to the college athlete who’d been following you around for the better half of nine months. Respectfully.

“You can’t just change someone’s birthday like that? Can you?” Jake, in all his years of attending Sunday services, Sunday Schools, being forced to read the bible and knowing far too much about parting seas and burning bushes, he’d never once been told that Christmas was just a day.

“It’s kinda like how King James was rewriting the bible on one side of the castle and had witches trying to turn his pee into gold on the other.” Jake was speechless as you looked up at him from your chair, your eyes seemingly swirling with knowledge beyond your years. It made sense that you worked in the library on campus.

“How the hell do you know all this?” Jake asked through a sheepish smile he couldn’t hide, your intelligence intimated him in the best of ways. You made him want to do better, be better, strive for more in life. It wasn’t that Jake wasn’t smart, he was. But next to you? It was an unparalleled excellence.

“I uh—I tend to read a lot.” Jake caught the way you faded into yourself, never one to want to outshine others. “Just get lost in here sometimes, books are sometimes easier to understand than people.” Jake could sympathise with that sentiment, he knew what it was like to feel like everyone was watching, judging a book by its cover so to speak. Everyone knew him as the meathead footballer who’s weekends were spent racking up the body count.

But with you? Jake just felt like Jake. Because that’s who he was to you. Simply and forever Jake.

“Do you like, not believe in God or something Miss Y/l/n?” Jake asked cautiously. He didn’t want to offend you or come across as rude or anything—he was simply asking a question he thought he may need to know if he was ever going to introduce you to his mother.

“I find it hard to believe in a world full of stories about Gods and Goddesses from a plethora of different perspectives that there can only be one, if one exists they all have to right? Harmoniously and complacent with the way the universe has fallen to shit without their divine intervention.” Jake had to take a moment to take what you had just said in. He was almost rendered speechless, but not quite. Not Jake Seresin.

“Damn Honeybee, you’re fucking fearless aren’t you?“ Jake couldn’t help but to smirk as he tried to keep his voice down. “You’re just raw doggin’ life with no religious affiliations.” It was then your turn to laugh.

“Guess I am. What about you? Do you believe in a God? An all mighty man, or woman, that sits in the clouds and judges your every action?” You asked with a teasing smirk as Jake bit his bottom lip, mulling over your question:

Did he believe in God?

“My mother would probably prefer if I said yes, but, the more I look at life without the rose coloured glasses I tend to think perhaps the big guy in the sky is all just some story.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Did you know hair holds memories.” The sound of buzzing clippers echoed off the walls of the bathroom as you sat before the mirror. Jake stood behind you with those big emerald eyes you loved so dearly, looking at you with a sympathetic look of understanding and support. “In some cultures people don't even cut their hair because it would upset the gods.” Jake could see the tears in your eyes as you looked at him through the mirror, understandably rambling to somewhat buy yourself some more time. “Medusa's hair was alive, there's certain styles linked to different cultures and full hair cutting ceremonies in–” If Jake didn't interrupt now you would have gone on forever. You had a habit of information dropping in situations where nervousness got the better of you. Not that Jake ever minded, he just knew if he didn't get ahead of it, you wouldn't stop. That would ultimately lead to you sitting in silence when the information swirling around inside her head had all been said. Panic would begin to rise inside your chest, the air would soon get thin, the room would suddenly get a little hotter and before you could even realise you'd be in the midst of a full blown panic attack.

The last time Jake witnessed such a thing was when Sam had colic.

“Honey–” Jake cooed as he turned off the clippers he held in his hand, only to place them down on the countertop to rest his hands on your shoulders. “Noone is forcing you to do this, if you don’t wanna cut your hair we don't have to.”

“No–” You sighed. “No, I want to do this, it's just a lot.” You tried to explain. “It's probably one of the only things I still have control over.” Jake understood, it would be hard not to. After all, he wasn't heartless. If he could Jake would have taken this all away, he would have given anything, including his own life to take your pain away. “I just hope I don't have a weird shaped head.”

“I'm sure you have a really nice scalp dear.” Jake chuckled as he massaged your shoulder tenderly. “And look, if you want my professional opinion, I think you’ll make an awesome live action Mrs. Potato Head.”

“Jacob!” You tried to hide your smile as you felt your cheek heating with a hume so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “You’re cruel!”

“But I made you laugh.” Jake countered through a shit eating grin, that signature Seresin smile you loved so much. The very one all three of your children had inherited from their father. “That's all that matters, now–let me work my magic alright, I've got you.”

“You’re probably a worse hairdresser than you were a husband–” It was a low ball, but Jake took it like a champ as he reached out for the clippers. The buzzing was almost immediate as he used the pad of his thumbs to complete the electrical circuit. With the tool now in full gear, Jake chuckled as he looked at you with fake shock and horror casted across his face.

“Oh now who's being cruel huh?” Jake watched as your eyes followed his hand that held the clippers. “Technically we’re still married Honey, you still have my last name.” He mumbled under his breath but still loud enough for you to hear, seemingly trying to keep your attention on what he was saying rather than the clippers approaching your head.

But–you moved:

“Should we cut my hair with scissors first?”

“Y/n–” Jake sighed as he once again turned off the clippers and placed them back down on the side of the sink.

“No no no I'm not trying to stall, I just don't want you to accidentally scalp me when my hair gets caught up in the shaver.” Jake saw your point, for the hair you did have left it was pretty thick and full of life still. He held the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Not in frustration towards you, but in defiance of his new quest.

“I'll go ask the nurses station for some scissors.”

“Thankyou–” Was all you managed to say back before Jake stepped out of the bathroom attached to your hospital room. The Christmas lights still flickered in the dimly lit room, seemingly consuming the entire room in bright blues, greens, reds and yellows. Even in sickness you couldn't help but to lean into the christmas cheers.

It hit Jake in that moment as he rounded out of your hospital room that he should get you something small to open when you wake up from surgery. The hospital has a gift shop right? Perhaps some flowers and a small gift you could keep with you during chemo. Maybe a book or a– *Thud*

Caught up in his own train of thought as he made his way to the nurses station, Jake ran straight into someone coming out of the elevator. There were two very distinct things Jake noticed as he came back into the reality around him. Those distinct things being that the man he’d run into was carrying not only flowers, but a small gift. Huh, uncanny.

“Sorry man, my bad.” The man apologised almost immediately after the mild impact.

“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” Jake responded with a polite smile his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” Jake reached out to shake the guy's hand, in retrospect he should have kept walking. Jake really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions.

The most paranoid fantasy Jake could think of would never have prepared him for the name that the man spoke next as he took Jake's hand in his.

“Jensen–”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Okay, I'm ready.” Neither Jake nor Jensen knew if you had mentioned either one in conversation, so, respectfully, both men chose to play the fool. Neither one really wanted to ask. Neither Jake nor Jensen wanted to be the one to open that can of worms.

When Jake returned with the borrowed scissors in his grasp–he acted as if he hadn’t just met the man he assumed was the very Jensen in your contacts.

“Last chance Honeybee–” Jake cooed as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Are you positive?” He asked with a smile so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “I’m all in with you, just say the word and we do whatever you wanna do.”

There was a momentary pause in the conversation. Jake's questions lingered in the air around you, it was hard not to get caught in the moment, get lost in the emerald eyes looking at you through the mirror. Jake stared you down as you shifted in your chair to look at him. He saw no hesitation in your eyes as Jake followed your gaze, searching for any sign or signal that could indicate that the next few moments were about to be a mistake.

“Honey—“ Jake tried to heed the warning lights flashing before his very eyes as you closed the gap between the two of you. Jake stood leaning over your right shoulder, looking longingly at your lips. “Don’t do anything stupid now.”

“Loving you is stupidity—“ Was all you said before you let your lips softly connect with your husband’s. Jake kissed you back with enough love in his heart to knock the wind right out of your lungs. The fleeting moment was broken, however, when Jake pulled away. The idea of another man kissing you on his mind, what was this guy's deal? Jackson? Jason?

“Come on Mrs Potato Head, hand me those scissors—“ Jake chuckled, hiding his own insecurities about the man he’d unintentionally met in the hall. You took a second to keep up, but as you licked your lips to savour the taste of Jake's signature vanilla chapstick, you nodded and handed him the scissors.

“I’m ready.” You sighed, once again looking back at your own reflection. “Let’s get this over with.” Change is an inevitable part of life, but that fact didn't make the current circumstances any easy to process. “Do you think that there's gonna be a place for me despite my inability to believe in a higher being?” Jake understood what you were saying, but he didn't have the answers. “I'm starting to wonder more about if there could ever be a life after death.”

Clumps of hair in small sections fell to the tiled floor around you as Jake worked his hands through your hair. Cutting strands from your head like the local mower man cut grass. It felt like such a mundane task to complete, like this was an everyday run of the mill, average experience. But for you? This was a hard and confronting pill to have to swallow.

“I’ve spent my whole life not believing in religion, so who am I supposed to pray to to keep me alive Jake?” Jake saw the tears in your eyes as he cut your hair with caution and steady hands, he heard the small but audible sobs that escaped your lips as he switched from the scissors to the clippers. The buzzing all but silenced your cries but Jake knew this was hard on you. The tears that stained your cheeks clearly reflected your sadness, anger and the inner turmoil that had been engulfing your entire existence since your diagnosis.

“You don’t pray to anyone Honey, you’re stronger than this cancer could ever be.” Again, no one ever sits you down and prepares you for this. No one gives you the heads up about the possibility of one day having to shave your wife's hair off in the name of dignity and control. But as Jake ran the shavers across your scalp, leaving nothing but a small layer of fuzz in their wake, he saw just how much sorrow and pain was swirling in your eyes.

Jake thought to himself in that very moment: ‘I've been needing a haircut for a while now anyway.’

With one quick motion and in the blink of an eye, Jake was running the shavers right down the middle of his head. You really had to take a second to process what he’d just done, what your husband had just done right behind you.

“Jake!” The shrill that escaped your mouth was something unmatched to any emotion you had ever expressed before. “What are you doing?” The image of Jake shaving his head in solidarity would forever be burnt into your mind.

“You said it yourself–hair holds memories and we can make new ones together.” Jake cooed as he shaved off those golden boy locks you loved to run your fingers through. He suited the buzz cut a little more than you did if you were being perfectly honest.

With teary eyes and puffy cheeks you stood on weak legs. The simple gesture of a haircut meant the world to you, Jake knew that. He didn't want you going through this alone. If shaving his head with you brought you a sense of solace? He was more than happy to.

“Looks good–” You smiled as tears ran down your cheeks. Jake reached out to cup your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with the pads on his thumbs. “Mr. Potato head.”

“Consider us the founders of the Potato Head Society.” Jake chuckled as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. In order to cherish you the way you deserved, Jake had to be the bigger man here. He knew that a cloud of uncertainty loomed in the halls, one by the name of Jackson or fucking Jeremy for all Jake cared. But as he stood in the bathroom with you, surrounded in the locks of hair that had once been on your head, he knew damn well at the end of the day it was still his last name you chose to take. “Good thing you don't have an odd shaped head after all, it kinda suits you.”

“Would you still love me if I did?” You asked quietly, giving Jake an excuse to confess his love. Jake's lips were soon pressed softly and ever so tenderly against your once again in the blink of an eye as gentle hands still worked to soothe your stained cheeks.

It wasn’t a hard question to answer, nor an easy question to ask—but as Jake pulled away to rest his forehead on yours as he ran the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, you knew it was an easy concept to understand:

“I’ve never, and I will never, stop loving you Honey.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

For as much as Jensen hated all things hospital related, over his past few years of treatment, he’d come to know these halls better than he knew the back of his own hand.

From countless radiation treatments, to endless chemotherapy sessions. Hours upon hours of remedial therapies and acupuncture sessions to stimulate nerve endings, Jensen was a man who was just about ready to pull the plug and live out the remaining few months he had, or less, from the comfort of his back deck.

He’d been poked and prodded, sliced and diced, far too many times to count on both his hands and for what? A few extra months tacked on top of a few years spent battling pancreatic cancer. No thankyou. Jensen had always had an optimistic outlook on life, until his life started to become the same bland halls and the same bland rooms, with the same bland doctors and nurses who all shared the same look of medical sympathy.

Jesen, for all intents and purposes, was ready to give up his signature status of being the resistant ‘pin cushion’. The student nurses could learn how to change cannula sights on the lady, Paola, who sat in the same chair for every chemotherapy session.

The last few days hadnt been too hot for the six foot one, brown eyed, brown haired (allegedly) man. His prognosis had been diminishing ever since he got the news his treatment was no longer as effective as it once had been.

The day Jensen was told he only had a few short months to live before his organs would begin to fail, even with treatment, was the same day he saw you crying outside the local doctors office. The Hermitage centre as they called it.

The last thing Jensen ever wanted was for his life to be meaningless, before he knew what he was doing? His feet were padding against the concrete as the psalm of his hands began to sweat inside his jean pockets.

“You look like you’ve just been told you’re dying?” As the elevator counted up the floors of which Jensen had to take from the ground floor of the Rhode Island Hospital to the oncology unit, he could vividly remember asking you that question. He recognised the look on your face because not ten minutes prior he;d been told the very same thing.

“I'd start to get your affairs in order, Mr. Hughs “ It hadn't been just a regular check up with his local general practitioner. But it had been the almost final nail in a long awaited coffin.

As the elevator dinged, Jensen took a few steps out into the bustling hallways of the oncology ward. Within seconds, he was met with a force so muscular it damn near knocked him back a few paces. But the cancer ridden ex fireman squared his shoulders and kept easy on his feet.

“Sorry man, my bad.” Jensen almost immediately apologies after the mild impact. He assumed that it was him that had caused the slight collision. His special awareness was pretty shot these days. The flowers he carried were almost crushed on impact, however he managed to save the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies.

“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” The man responded with a polite smile Jensen could only assume his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” like a slow motion car wreck, Jake reached out to shake Jensens hand. In retrospect he should have kept walking. Jensen really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions.

The most paranoid fantasy Jensen could think of would never have prepared him for the look of utter betrayal that smeared itself across the blonde headed aviators face as Jensen shook your husbands hand:

“Jensen–”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog

@goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: cancer #jake seresin x female!reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #tgm cast #tgm imagine #jake seresin angst #jake hangman x reader #top gun maverick

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f1ghtsoftly · 10 months

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This is why I was against radfems trying to socially force women out of het relationships from the beginning.

You cannot force a woman to take that step nor do you understand the specific details of her personal life and relationships.

And this isn’t to say that the “facts” aren’t true. Many women are happier celibate from men even if they are OSA but that’s a journey that’s private and involves a lot of healing work from the grooming we all receive to be compliant sexual objects for men. I cannot overemphasize that patriarchal socialization is traumatic and many women drawn to feminism are drawn to it *because of, not in spite of* of serious sexual trauma that is complex, individualized and difficult to overcome not to mention, simply prioritizing yourself over men is a feminist act that takes serious work to achieve.

Many women also simply do not have access to real life feminist communities and the social worlds they do have access to are patriarchal and will punish a woman looking to “deny” males access to her. There is a reason I pay out of the ass to live in NYC, because the rad friends I have made here have been invaluable to my mental health. I haven’t tried to kill myself once since I’ve lived here, not the case for most of my adult life.

This is a journey where most women take slow steps over time, with the resources available to them and their ability in the moment. This is not a religion by which your salvation is determined by whether or not you adhere to popular separatist ideas on the internet and a feminist life in a patriarchal world is a risk not all women can take or should take the exact same way.

The woman who was shamed is a prostitution survivor, she is already on a positive journey for her health. She needs support and community to continue to heal-not villianization.

TLDR: treat other feminists with good faith or log off.

#feminists do you even like women challenge #radblr

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uthseikoashx-goingmyway · 2 months

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things in IWTV season 2 i'd lose my mind if it actually happens (or when. because some of those things will happen.). sorry for the mistakes btw

1. Claudeleine romantic relationship

Claudia finally having a vampire lover she can be herself with. the romantic & sexual tension. the heart to heart Louis and Claudia would have before changing Madeleine. the yearning. the tragic ending. the change of dynamics in the De Pointe du Lac family. the disruption of it all.

2. an exploration of Armand's relationship to religion, faith and God

specially in 2022. past religious crisis. how he articulates his vampire nature, his faith and his despair. lots of hints of TVA. God and art. religion, Armand and Louis. his religion (conversion from being christian to being muslim in this universe? if so, why?). "i serve, a God," would you mind to develop?

3. dramatic irony about Daniel's past and Devil's Minion

the rent boy. Daniel actually realising he had been a dick about that. "oh." after understanding the irony of it all. Armand talking in riddles and hinting at something Daniel is totally ignorant of. young Daniel's life and messy, loving and weird relationship with Armand. some activism. 2022 Daniel getting old, sicker and sicker. laughs. angst. tension. yearning. longing stares. petty remarks. revelations.

4. Loumand complex relationship

the love and the suffering. how they are both deeply attached to each other. how they show their care. the place Lestat holds right in the middle. how they deal with Claudia's death. what Louis really thinks about it. the tension. the yearning. how their relationship actually developed. the extent of Louis' memory alteration and how it plays a role into their dynamics. the after: how Armand helped Louis. messy divorce vibes. petty moves. to what extent their relationship is doomed. how one person can love several persons and in different ways, and how complex and delicate it is.

5. The Groan™

what is that. a metaphor for sexual arousal? Lestat scratching the walls? Rashid trapped? some clues. what the fuck.

6. Antoinette alive and kicking

and coming back right on time for the trial, because it would be 1) so fucking funny 2) utterly tragic, considering Claudia would be killed for killing nobody.

7. amazing outfits

amazing outfits

8. lots of french

i'm french

9. Claudia and Armand's relationship

Claudia being protective of Louis. Armand dealing with it. some sort of bond rivalry. both of them aware that something's wrong with the other. Armand and Claudia's similarities being acknowledged (age, killing a human they loved — Charlie, Ricardo — and complex situation regarding their maker), even a possibility for some kind of understanding and compassion (making the end more tragic). Armand seeing a some of Lestat in Claudia. Claudia seeing Armand's love for Lestat. a common love for theater and spectacular shows. that awful experience before Claudia's death.

10. Louis and memories

the photos he takes (where are they in 2022? will they clash with Louis' tale?). the metatextual dimension of themes such as: unreliable narration, memories and perspective, autofiction. Daniel calling out Louis' avoiding strategies. Louis calling out Daniel's rudeness and biais. how Louis really sees his relationship with Claudia? the gap between Louis' and Armand's recalling. a deeper exploration of his superimposed identities (black, queer, american man; in 1940, 1973, 2022). learning how to trust someone new after being abused. the rain metaphors. Louis saying the most poetic and heartbreaking thing you'll ever heard. his relationship to vampirism as he joins Armand's coven. grief and loss of a family member. hallucinations and how they are filmed / manifesting. guilt. loving Claudia and Armand. loving Lestat, still. etc.

tysm for coming to my tedtalk. it was very self-indulgent but very much pleasant. i won't be mad if it doesn't happen (obviously!), or not like i imagine. still, it's fun to imagine and put that here on tumblr. no shame on lestat, i just have no special things i'm waiting for about him, and will be very happy indeed to see him again. salut

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frankcastleonlyfans · 2 years

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𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐀.𝐓

pairing: aemond targaryen x witch!reader

summary: queen alicent wants to exile her son's lover, who she thinks is a witch.

words: 3,1k

author's note: this came during a funny conversation with my friend lola @knifes0ldier and we got into the common sense that aemond definitely has a knife kink. also, the Bloody Lady is a goddess that i made up with, as i don't have that much knowledge on essosi religions.

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators 💓 please leave a comment if you like my work, and enjoy your reading.

18+ warning

warnings: the greens are their own warning, mentions of animal cruelty, descriptions of wounds, unprotected sex, knife kink, blood kink, iron throne sex, NOT MEANT FOR MINORS!!!

gif by @harwin-breakbones

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Honestly, you weren't surprised at all. Queen Alicent always made sure to make you know that she hated you, and your presence, even if most of the time she didn't had to say a word to do so. And you loved it. You loved to watch how uncomfortable she got with your presence. You would widely open your eyes and stare at her with a wicked grin in your lips, because you adored to observe how her body shivered. And that was probably the reason why Ser Criston would always grab a hold tight on his sword, every time you'd pass across the Queen on the hallways.

"But I don't get it, my Queen. What have I done to be exiled?" You frowned, biting back one of your creep smirks. This wasn't the right time to piss Alicent off.

"You think you're so smart, don't you, Y/N?" Alicent asked in a stern tone. You wanted to snort so badly, "I don't know what kind of sick spell you have on my son, but I am not letting this go forward. I want you out of King's Landing by tomorrow morning, otherwise, Ser Criston will take your heart out, just like you did to my horse. I know it was you!"

"I don't know what you mean, your Grace." You lied, faking a pout.

It wasn't your fault that her horse was the only one in the stable that gave you permission to kill him. It was his wish to be used as a sacrifice to the Bloody Lady. But of course you couldn't tell that to the westerosi Queen, a woman with very different beliefs. She would have your head right there if you said what you truly thought about the faith of the Seven.

"I don't think it's a coincidence that ever since my brother-in-law brought you here, the animals in the castle had reduced in quantity. I don't care for what you do in Essos, but I will not tolerate witchcraft under my roof!" She yelled at your face.

During one of your visits to Braavos, you had been kidnapped and sold to a lord in Pentos. The lord gave you as a gift to Daemon Targaryen, who brought you to Westeros after his lady wife died, and he gave you to his brother, the King Viserys Targaryen, who then gave you as toy to his son, Aemond Targaryen, whom you had a very intimate relationship with.

You were originally from Qarth, but you decided to become a peregrine, in search for your destiny and a purpose in life, and use your magical talents as a way of living. You could easily have runned away from your kidnapper, but something in you told you to trust the course. You never thought a valyrian-westerosi boy could be your destiny, but the spectro of the Bloody Lady inside of you told you that Aemond was the right one.

"I wish I could help you with some information, but unfortunately I know nothing about this, my Queen."

Alicent took a deep breath. They were at war, and she probably would regret not having a witch on her side, but she couldn't have you there anymore. It's been long since the Queen last felt safe, knowing that there was someone in the castle that could easily kill everyone without even using their hands. She needed you gone, even if her son would hate her for exiling you.

"I want you gone, Y/N. And don't bother saying your goodbyes to Aemond, I will tell him that the guards saw you running away. He will think that you played him just to have your freedom. There's a ship waiting for you in the harbor." She said, pointing to the door for you to leave.

But you weren't going anywhere. Aemond was yours, and not even his mother could take him from you. You thought about killing her to get her out of your way, but without Alicent, Aegon would run the seven kingdoms recklessly. You cared about Aemond too much to let his brother rule without someone there to control him.

During the middle of the night, you were supposed to be packing your stuff and leaving the castle while everyone was asleep. But you thought about being honest with Aemond and telling that his cunt of a mother had been picking on you. He would have your side, and wouldn't let you leave. You knew he cared about you just the same. He was your lover, and even though everyone at the Red Keep thought of you as an essosi wild animal, and made fun of your accent, Aemond never did. The prince loved your distinct accent while speaking the common tongue, the liked when you talked on low valyrian languages you spoke, and he liked when you say something in qartheen, your mother language.

You never told him about your gifts. He knew about your beliefs and your devotion to the Bloody Lady, but he had no idea about your powers. You liked to call it illusions, as they weren't really powers. You were no God, so therefore was no power in you. With a have of your hands water could turn into wine, in a blink of an eye a man could drop dead, and yet you were nothing but a simple maidservant to a prince, whom you were starting to fall in love with.

Aemond had no guards on his door. He liked to joke that he sleeps with his eye open, as the other one is always closed. It worried you about his safety, but he promised you that he could take care of himself.

As you opened and closed the the door behind you to an enormous and vast darkness, you felt the coldness from a sharp blade against you neck.

"How did you know I like knives?" You teased under your breath.

Aemond grunted in your ear and turned you around to his body. He had your neck on his hand, and kissed you passionately, pratically growling to your mouth. It killed you to break that kiss, but you two needed to talk.

"Wait– I need to talk to you." You whimpered when his hands found it's way to your backside, where he squeezed while kissing your neck.

"You don't come to a man's chambers in the middle of the night to talk, Y/N" Aemond purred, extending his trail of kisses until between your breasts.

"Unfortunately what I have to say is very serious, my prince." You used your finger to lift his chin to look at you, even if you hardly could see his face.

Aemond groaned in annoyance, "Fine. Who's bothering you? I hope I don't need to kill anyone important."

"Oh, hopefully it's not gonna come to that. I'd hate for you to commit matrecide, even if your mother fucking hates me." You hugged his body, resting your forehead in his chest. 'His scent is so vicious', you thought, 'I could get drunk to it.'

"What did mother do this time?" He asked, leaving soft kisses on the top of your head. He liked to play with your locks between his fingers.

"She wants to exile me. I'm supposed to be on board of ship heading to Pentos right now. I thought I should tell you that before I leave, even if she told me not to." You said. Aemond wasn't easy to manipulate, but you tried anyways.

"And why would she do that?" The prince cocked an eyebrow.

"She... doesn't like our relationship. She hates me Aemond, she thinks I'm a witch!" You tried using a sweet voice, that perhaps would make him believe you.

Aemond stayed a few seconds in silent. Then he took a deep breath, and held your head between his two hands, holding you still.

"How long will you keep lying to me?" The prince asked in a stern voice. You couldn't see, but he was so close to you that his warm breath touched your lips.

You gulped. You were not afraid of Aemond, as he was just as unhinged as you were, but sometimes he would make you nervous, and you were too afraid to disappoint him.

“’m not lyin'.” You murmured under your breath.

"Oh please, Y/N. It's not because I don't talk about it that I don't see it. And, I saw you eating the horse's heart. Mother really loved that horse, you know?"

You frowned your forehead, questioning your own cunning. You remembered that night very well, and you hadn't seen Aemond all day.

"You're probably wondering how I know about that. I was following you that day. All day." He said, too closer to your ear. It made you shiver, "I don't care what you do as long it doesn't hurt anyone I care about. And... I thought it was quite arousing seeing you all covered in blood."

It brought you comfort that you didn't needed to lie to him anymore. At least he knew the truth about you, and accepted you as you were.

"We can talk about it later. But your mother really wants me gone! She said she'll have Ser Criston to take my heart out just like I did to her horse!"

Aemond thought it was quite adorable. You really were a witch, and yet you were there, in front of him and asking for his help. A mere powerless, one-eyed prince. What could he do that you couldn't?

"I don't want to hurt her, but I can't live without you either." You confessed. "The Bloody Lady send me here to find my destiny. You know I was sold, and you now know I could have effortlessly escaped. I stayed for you. She told me we were meant to be with each other."

Aemond was devoted to his faith, just like his mother. But he liked to believe in something he'd seen with his own eye. None of the Seven had appeared to him, and there was you.

"Show it to me. Do something." He asked.

You wouldn't normally use your gifts in front someone who couldn't understand them, but you loved Aemond. You knew he needed a reason to have your back, and his feelings for you weren't enough.

So you did a basic illusion. With just a thought, all of the candles inside his chambers were alight. Now you could see his face, and how he looked around the room amused.

"If we are meant to be together, I'm not letting my mother take you away from me. I promise." The prince touched your chin with his fingers and pecked yours lips.

You noticed the dagger in his waist, the one that sooner he used to fright you and held it against your neck. Now that you weren't going anywhere, and had quite a free time...

"I wasn't kidding when I said I liked knives." You purred, touching his chest with your fingertips.

Aemond wore a white linen shirt, but the laces were untied, revealing his naked toned chest.

"I just happen to know a place with a lot of blades." The prince murmured, wearing a devilsh smile.

Aemond took your hand before you could protest, like he know you would. The outside of the throne room would be very well guarded at this time of the night, so he took one of the secret passages he had recently discovered. The passage took you to one of the hallways, where you took the stairs and another passage inside a wall, and lead you both to the place where he wanted to be.

The Great Hall was vast and empty. Without a warning, you used your magic again to alight the thousands of candles around the space, hoping to take Aemond by surprise. He didn't even flinch when one of the candles burned beside him.

He took your hand and leaded you to the stairs to the throne. All swords around it made it so intimidating, you felt like you were vandalizing a sacred place. In fact, you were. None of you were supposed to be there.

"We should get back." You said, "We can fuck in your bed, it's gonna be way more comfortable."

"Oh, but what would be the fun in that?" Aemond replied in a teasingly way.

He dramatically sat on the throne, staring at you with a darkened gaze. The prince opened his legs and patted his thigh, asking you to sit on him.

"Aemond, c'mon. Your brother sits there, it's disrespectful." You muttered.

He placed a finger in front of your lips and hushed you. The prince left small kisses and bites to your neck and collarbone. One of his hands caressed your belly and breasts, and the other went between your legs to open them apart. Your soft whimpers echoed through the hall, as your lover played with your covered hard nipples. Aemond whispered sweet things to your ear, letting his hands do all the work to your body. You slightly rocked your hips against his thigh to create friction between your legs, where you were desperately needy.

"Undress yourself." The prince demanded.

You took your clothes off and helped him to do the same. The room was freezing cold, and all the steel around and under your bodies weren't helping at all, so you decided to warm yourself in him. Aemond sat again, unbothred by the cold blades behind his back, and pulled you to be on top of him. His erection sprunged up and hit is stomach, still leaking pre cum. You felt his hard cock touching your inner thigh, and you rocked against it, trying to tease him. Aemond's lips immediately attached to your right nipple, and his left hand played with the other. Moans escaped from both of your throats.

"Look at you..." He breathed, sliding the smallest amount of his tip inside you. "I'm gonna fucking destroy you."

"Fuc– Aemond, please!" You moaned, trying to pull him closer.

"Say my name, my love." Aemond pushed further into you, your walls adjusting to his impressive size. He kept rubbing at your clit, making you wetter and wetter by the second.

"Oh, Aemond!" You cried out as he bottomed out inside you, fitting so deliciously perfect in your cunt. "I need you so bad, my prince. Please, fuck me!" You sounded desperate, but it made Aemond so aroused he couldn’t control himself anymore.

Aemond's hands grabbed your bottom tightly. He slapped the place, making you squirm on top of him. As your skin burned in pain, he guided your movements, leading you all the way up to his shaft and pounded deep into you. He quickly set a rough pace, pounding into your throbbing cunt with quick and profound thrusts.

You tried to hold on something other than him, and unconsciously grabbed one of the loose blades on the arm of the throne, accidentally cutting yourself. You moaned loudly to the pain, taking your wound to your sight. You brushed your bloodied hand to your lover's lips, and Aemond licked your blood, maintaining eye contact with you. He let out a growl when the taste of copper met his tongue.

"Do you feel how fucking deep I am?" The prince twisted your hair in his fist and pulled it, leaving you neck exposed, as he slammed his hips into you "You're doing so good for me, my good little whore."

Aemond bucked his hips at the feeling of your walls stretching around him, making your face contort in pleasure. You looked at him, digging your fingertips into his shoulders, lifting your hips ever so slightly as he thrusted up into you again.

"Fuck, you feel so good." You moaned, bouncing up and down slowly.

Aemond took one of your hands in his, and pressed it against the loose blade again, opening another cut on your skin. You hissed in pain, while he felt your walls tightening around him.

"You gonna cum for me? You gonna make a mess on my cock, princess?" Aemond teased, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth.

You pushed his shoulders down on the backrest of the throne, resting your hands against his chest to give yourself more leverage to bounce up and down his cock. Aemond howled to the feeling of the blades lacerating his back. You cried out as he thrusted up into you at a relentless place, hitting your g-spot with every thrust, making you bite down on your lip to keep from screaming. He could feel your walls pulsing, begging to squeeze his cock as you hit your ultimate high, pulling his own orgasm along with him.

You whined, looking at him with a predatory look in your eyes, roughly pressing your lips against his to stifle the moans. He held your body close to his as he thrusted into you.

"I'm cumming Aemond–" You moaned against his lips, a white hot burning sensation flashing through every nerve in your body, making you cum right then and there. Your walls clenched around him, covering his cock with your fluid while he shoots ribbons of his hot seed inside you.

"I'm marrying her!" The one-eyed prince yelled, slamming his hand on the table. "I will fucking marrying her, and none of you can stop me! You can let me marry her and we'll live here, or I am taking her, and my dragon, to Essos, where we can live happily ever after, and you all can fuck yourselves with this war, and the Iron Throne!"

"You really want to marry that freak?" King Aegon frowned.

Aemond grabbed a hold on his sword and looked at his brother, with his scaring and darkened gaze;

"Raise your tongue to talk about my betrothed again and you shall discover why they call me kinslayer, brother." Aemond threatened, and Alicent quickly placed herself between her children.

"Stop! Aemond, all I'm asking is for you to reconsider–"

"I don't want to reconsider anything! I'm warning you, mother. I own the biggest weapon in the entire kingdom, and without Vhagar you know you are going to lose the war." The whole council stared at the prince like he was crazy, going against his rules, his family and his beliefs, all for a woman there was supposed to be nothing but his servent.

Queen Alicent accepted her son's conditions, and, eventually you married Prince Aemond Targaryen. With your help, the Greens won the war against the Blacks. Rhaenyra had six dragons on her side, but Alicent had a witch.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon

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mellowsaturns · 1 year

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religion’s in your lips

JOEL MILLER X FEM!READER

summary: after a quick brush with death, you start to see your life in a new light

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, angst, established relationship, love as a religion, religion talk, corruptification of reader if you squint, fingering, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), past traumatic experience, smut takes place in jackson

wc: 1k

— — —

It was silly, you think. How you used to pray for the world. How you made bargains with God for small slices of normalcy, for the virus to stop, to just make it through the night alive. All blind faith when you truly think about it.

Because where was he when you were inches away from death, begging with your last breath?

God didn’t help you. Not the God you knew, anyways.

With the amount of blood spilling out of your wound, you should’ve died. Would have just been another body count for the assholes who attacked you, but to your surprise, a hand rolled your body over. There were gasps and subtle arguing before someone lifted you off the cold pavement. With your head lolled to the side, you managed to take a peak from the corner of your eyes. All you saw were brown curls and a patchy beard before you blacked out.

Days later, you woke in a haze to find that same person looking over you.

All those nights of praying were utterly useless, you realized. Now, you know better because it wasn’t God who saved you. This man did.

Now, Joel Miller was the only person you’d go on your knees for.

Looking up from your position, Joel’s head is pulled back in bliss as your mouth works his length. You hum in satisfaction when he lets out those guttural groans. It was like melodies to your ears.

“Fuck, darlin’ you’re doing so good for me,” he praises, looking down at you. He tugs onto your hair and pushes you deeper. “Just like that,” he moans. “Just a little more,” he says as he starts to fuck himself into your mouth, an indication that he was nearing his climax. “You gon’ take me like a good girl?”

You struggle to nod with his cock deep down your throat. He chuckles before wiping away your tears and finishes in your mouth, spilling that sweet salty taste of him into you.

Pulling back, you smile when you see the pleasure in his eyes and swallow every last drop of him like it was the sweetest wine.

It takes no time for him to lay you on the bed, peeling off every single piece of clothing that touched your skin.

Running his large rough hands over your body, you shutter against his touch. He makes his way up, gently kissing the spot where your thighs and hip meet before scattering more kisses across your stomach and breasts—especially on that old jagged scar where every single kiss of his felt like your revival.

You audibly gasp when he cups your sex, pressing onto it with just enough pressure to tease you. “Joel,” you whisper with steadying breaths. “Joel, please.”

“Hmm?” he mumbles against your neck.

“Want you,” you beg, eyes pleading. “I want to feel you.”

At that, he dips a finger into your core and you let out a desperate whimper. “So wet already,” he teases. “This what you needed, darlin’?” he asks, adding another digit.

It was pathetic how quickly you succumbed to his touches.

You nod. “Feels so good,” you breathe out. “Want you so bad.”

Joel groans, cock hardening once again against your body. When he enters you all the way with a grunt, your eyes roll to the back of your head. No matter how wet you are or how much he preps you, you always feel the stretch because he was so fucking big.

“Keep your pretty eyes on me,” he gruffs, and you slowly steer your eyes back to his. “Good girl,” he says, voice low before picking up his pace and fucking you senseless. “Don’t cover your mouth, wanna hear you.”

His name on your tongue sounds holy, almost like a prayer echoed throughout the empty house. Joel. Joel. Joel.

“I know, darlin’, I know,” he murmurs. “Fuck. Love it when you say my name like that.”

“I can’t,” you breathe out, feeling like you were about to rip in half with the way he’s rutting into you. “Joel,” you whimper, “I can’t tak—”

“You can,” he rasps, “I know you can. Said you’d do anything for me, right? Be good for me. I’ll make you feel good, promise.”

You do what he says and take all of him. And just like he said, it was good. So good that it only takes a few minutes before you’re blinded by your own orgasm. He comes shortly after, filling you up with his essence before resting his forehead against yours while he fucks his spend into you.

Taking your mouth with his, he pulls you into a deep kiss. “Did so well for me, sweet girl.”

Your arms find their way around his torso as the two of you lay there coming off your high. Sometime after, Joel gets up and comes back with a wet towel to help you clean up. You couldn’t help but admire him from your spot on the bed as the warm light from the lamp illuminates him from behind.

Grabbing onto his arm, you pull him back to you, not caring about the mess you made on the mattress because right now, nothing matters. All you wanted was him.

He smirks at your neediness. “What would you do without me?” he jests.

But it’s true, you think. You wouldn’t be here without him. After recovering from your injury, you had nowhere to go, you didn’t even know where you were so he let you tag along with him and Ellie all the way back to Jackson which ended up giving you the normalcy you had always wanted.

Then came the first touch. The way his fingers played between your thighs and the feeling of him against you for the first time beneath tangled sheets showing you what true heaven felt like. And it was something akin to being reborn again.

Joel saved you in more ways than one.

You already knew it then. Knew it the moment you woke up after your mere brush with death and saw those beautiful brown eyes staring back at you. Knew it then that he had become your purpose.

That you’d devote your entire life to him.

Joel had become your God.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

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posletsvet · 8 months

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A Somewhat Messy Exploration of the Concepts of Purity and Impurity in Satosugu, and perhaps some more

The yin and yang symbolism in Satosugu (here I'm using 'Satosugu' as a short way to refer to the relationship between these characters, not necessarily a ship dynamic) has been brought up and discussed a lot in fan analyses lately, and by those who have mental capacity to express it far better than I ever could. However, there is one more thing I would like to talk about in relation to Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo's dichotomy, and perhaps some more.

As much influence as Chinese philosophical concepts (such as already mentioned yin-yang) have on Japanese cosmology, religious views of the people of Japan are actually an intricate and complex amalgamation of various teachings and beliefs, with Shinto being numerically the most prominent faith of the country. I was curious as to how the ideas found in Shinto could be applied to Gojo and Geto's relationship, and I guess I've stumbled upon some inkling of a thought in this regard -- so please bear with me while I rant.

Before this gets too long, I'm putting my rambling below the cut.

To begin with and give a little bit of context, the core teaching of Shinto is to have profound respect and reverence for nature. As a polytheistic and animistic religion, Shinto is defined by its belief in the kami, who are stated to inhabit all things, including objects of the surrounding landscape and various natural forces. Due to such elemental qualities of the faith, purification takes place as one of its central aspects and a widely followed practice, as well. There is a great emphasis laid on spiritual and physical purity and cleanliness. That being so, the moral categories of good and evil (or virtue and sin), so important in the western worldview, give way to a different outlook on things: the world is perceived in terms of 'clean' and 'dirty' rather than 'good' and 'bad'.

This concept finds a reflection in Gege's writing primarily through Tsumiki as someone who's essentially an embodiment of the virtue of being innocent and pure at heart. When she's brought up in the narrative, the image is frequently accompanied by flowers -- and more often than not, especially when it comes to Megumi's perspective, those flowers are white lilies. And those are one of the most common and prominent symbols of purity. When Tsumiki's innocence is symbolically destroyed with Yorozu taking over her body, white blossoms are depicted as thrashed and stained in the background. Her purity is further defiled by her death as everything related to death and decay is considered foul as it desecrates the world's natural state of cleanliness, fertility and life.

I'm only bringing this up to show how Gege incorporates this religious framework into the body of symbolism in his story. And the further you search with these concepts in mind, the more you are able to uncover.

Satoru Gojo as purity and perfection

Satoru Gojo is a character whom you can't help but read as a perfection within the context of the world he exists in. He's the absolute strongest, wielding the power to bring all the knowledge of the universe and the forces which shape it under his control, he's repeatedly elevated by the narrative as someone unreachable and untouchable whereas nothing seems to be beyond his reach. He also has an extraordinary appearance, matching vibrant aquamarine eyes with fair hair, so rarely found among full-blooded Japanese people. He embodies an ideal for his society.

Satoru is associated with white and sky blue -- the colours most widely believed to represent purity, innocence, perfection, serenity and safety. Those are lofty, noble, airy and spacious hues which also bring in mind vast open spaces and immeasurable and unreachable heights and depths, symbolizing Gojo's detachment from the mundane world where corruption and putrefaction take deep root. Not to mention Satoru's noble background as an heir of one of the Big Three Sorcerer Families.

Actually no, forget this, I do want to mention it and expand a little on my thoughts regarding Satoru's family and upbringing. It's highly likely he was overprotected and sheltered as a child, and along with a teenage-years rebellion on his part which such a childhhod brought about, it also thwarted his ability to make connections with people around him as he basically lacks common experiences and/or interests with them. He's somewhat sterile when it comes to displaying empathy and emotional intelligence, which results in a peculiar sense of innocence about him. For the lack of any better way to articulate this idea, I'd say he's pure in this regard: clean and untouchable and spotless, devoid of nearly everything that comprises a regular person's experience.

This shows even in the way Gojo chooses to cope with his trauma in the aftermath of the Star Plasma Vessel Incident. That traumatic experience seemingly barely leaves a mark on him because he opts for pushing it aside and moving forward, while going out of his way to make sure there's a safe distance between him and the source of his vulnerability by improving his technique. He fixates on bringing his Infinity technique to perfection, and as a result it leaves no opportunity for anything to touch him if he himself does not want it to. Yet again, it leaves him stainless.

Not only that: he becomes emotionally detached from the cruelty and filth of the jujutsu world, becomes numb to it, with little to no emotion ever reaching his core to shake it. He's neither angry nor vengeful on Amanai's behalf after her death. He does not allow for hatred and spite to poison his mind, neither does he feel any doubt. He stays clean from all the negativity at the cost of coming off as cynical and unsympathetic.

He masks this by putting up a front of an emotionally immature individual with childlike mannerisms and an attitude resembling that of a teenager rather than a fully grown man. He also nurtures a somewhat naive belief that Suguru still can be trusted, that there's some hope for him turning away from the path he's chosen. In this regard, he still bears the innocence of a child.

Last but not least, shedding away the more humanly parts of himself, Gojo instead becomes more attuned to the natural world through his ascension -- the main source of purity, as Shinto has it. Moreover, he basically rejects death by coming back from the dead after finally grasping how Reversed Cursed Energy works. And I've already explained the importance of something like this when talking about Tsumiki's passing.

Gojo Satoru's mind is free from resentment and hate, his body unstained by death. He's a character who represents complete spiritual and physical purity.

Suguru Geto as impurity and corruption

Where Gojo's character exhibits perfection, Geto shows abruptly stunted growth and degradation gnawing away at him bit by bit; where Gojo stands to symbolize cleanliness and purity, Geto presents desolation and decay and that filth which is left in their wake. Geto is a character whom the narrative treats as a symbolic foil to Gojo, starting from him being expelled from Jujutsu High and ending with his death being described in the light novel as a curse purged from existence. If Gojo serves as an example of a perfectly fit cog in jujutsu society and sets up a desirable ideal, Geto, named the worst of all known curse users, represents everything that the very same society fears and despises.

Starting with colour symbolism again, such colours as black, dark brown, warm beige and mustard yellow are the most common colours to be associated with dirt and a filthy, dingy appearance. And while I'm not saying Suguru himself has such an appearance (although he does forsake taking care of himself at some point), those all are the colours found in his palette. Black is also considered to be the hardest colour to keep clean, even more so than white, as it shows all the stains and grime so well. Which is quite interesting if you consider that Suguru's downfall and defection ultimately bring out, both to the audience and to Satoru, everything not only malfunctioning, but straightforward cruel, vile and despicable in the existing system.

Geto's deeply empathetic personality is the basis for his own corruption, his inability to set boundaries between his own emotions and the suffering of others leaves him extremely vulnerable in a society which actively punishes people for being unable to extract emotion from their duty and caring too much. The thing is, Suguru is elbow-deep in emotion. For instance, if Satoru managed to shove his feelings aside in order to put together a plan of action when Kuroi got abducted, Suguru immeadiately plunged into self-blame. His own empathy is what's clouding his vision, his feelings pile up within him without any healthy outlet until they start rotting him from the inside.

Geto lets the rot in by caring too deeply, vile emotions that he feels on behalf of others festering in his mind. He can't stand the sight of atrocities commited by Jujutsu society and finds them nauseating, while the rest of the world he exists in treats those abominations as a norm. And even so, he dives deeper into all this by trying to make a difference and save ordinary people.

This is symbolically represented by Geto's Curse Manipulation, with him consuming curses which are basically a corporeal manifestation of all the negative emotions people vent into the world in their daily lives. The more curses he absorbs, the more doubt and resentment he lets inside and the more they consequently stain his once pure ideals and aspirations with bile building up inside of him. His very sense of self is twisted by the weight of the unsightly hideous reality, and while he stays true to his strict set of ideals he is forced to adapt by the trauma of his experience as a sorcerer and the 'realisation' which it brings. Because if one endures such severely traumatic events, one must sooner or later come to the conclusion that there's something inherently wrong and malfunctioning -- either with you or the world you live in. Geto chooses to stay true to himself by assuming it's the latter, and this choice results in his corruption in the eyes of those who run that very world.

There's also something to be said about the intimacy of the act of consumpton: you let the thing you consume nurture you and become a part of you. Cursed spirits taste absolutely foul, and what that means to put this despicable thing in your mouth and swallow it is unimaginable. Geto's absorbtion of curses is supposed to represent how he basically desacrates himself by letting himself experience everything at such a deep emotional level, inevitably tying himself to putrefaction of the world.

And of course, the last thing that plays its role in the defilement of Geto's character is his death.

Brief wrap-up thoughts

I could honestly ramble on and on about this for ages, but I guess it all just boils down to my admiration for Gege's ability to break the mold with his writing. He takes a trait which is largely associated with protagonists of their stories and shapes his villain's whole personality around it -- and vice versa, with Gojo and his seemingly egotistic tendencies.

Once again, Japanese religious beliefs organically encompass so many elements originating from so many cultures with no coherent systematization existing up untill late 19th centuary, and I find it absolutely fascinating how Gege's story reflects that. It leaves us with such an interesting controversy of an emotionally detached hero dwelling in a morally grey area alongside with a deeply empathetic antagonist whom both other characters and the audience find deserving of sympathy and pity.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk analysis #geto suguru #gojo satoru #satosugu #tsumiki fushiguro #she gets mentioned as well #and i still do not know how to tag properly #jjk meta #for some reason it took me so so long to finish this #are words exhausting sometimes #it seems the more i think the more scatterbrained I get #i am once again telling you #i'm sorry for how messy it is #and also #welcome to a new episode of how i'm so not normal about the religious symbolism in fiction

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givemearmstopraywith · 26 days

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My mom keeps asking me why I stopped going to confession (I'm catholic, but it's complicated) and one of the reasons why is that it feels stupid and pointless to me. But is there like good reasons why I maybe should give it a try? Is confession even biblical? Or am I right for staying away from it? (side note: I've not been to confession for about 6 years now (I think), but before that I've been going to confession pretty much regularly for maybe 10 years. So it's not something I've just "tried" once and never again.)

there is no biblical precedent for confession as it exists in the catholic church. in 1 john 1:9, we're told that if we confess our sins to one another, God is faithful to us and forgives us. number 5:7 lays out the historical jewish practice of publicly confessing sins and making restitution. confessing to a priest means that you are confessing to a mediator between yourself and God, and that mediator gives you your restitution for those sins- these are works, since in catholicism we are justified through faith and works and not by faith alone, as in the protestant tradition. there's a lot of strength and depth to justification through faith and works, rather than just justification through faith: but i think you, like many christians, probably crave "works" that are a bit more comprehensive, more humane, than what is typically utilized in confession.

on the other side of this issue, hebrews 3:1 and 7-22-27 tells us that jesus is the high priest of our confession, the one mediator between God and men. on christ can forgive sins: but importantly the priest does not forgive your sin himself, he simply acts as a mediator on your behalf- a descendent of prophets, you might say. part of what i like about the anglican church is that the confession of sins is built into the liturgy, said as a congregation before partaking of the eucharist. this to me seems pithy and practical. but i am also someone who suffers from scruples: i never feel quite good enough, i am oppressed by the knowledge of my own fallenness and base nature (but i am getting better at not feeling this way all the time- nobody should, God does not want us to be crippled by guilt).

it is neither right nor wrong to stay away from confession. what it comes down to is your calling. everyone is called, but we are called in different directions. some are called to partake fully in the life of the catholic church, with its rites, rituals, sacramentalism, and tradition: all of these things are beautiful and meaningful in their own way, but they will be neither of those things to anyone who is not called to it. some are called to have a personal, private relationship with God. others are called to not have one at all. whether we conceive God in an inherent manifestation of "thinginess" or not, we are all called somewhere. it is the nature of being human, because to be human means to be woven into the universe and all it contains. the other thing is that we all do require confession on some level, because we all commit acts that are devoid of goodness- whether accidentally or with purpose.

my personal belief about sin is that it does not exist the way goodness exists, with form: sin is simply an emptiness, created by my own wrongdoing, waiting to be filled with goodness. part of how i feel that emptiness and try to fill it again is through public confession in the anglican church, by private prayerfulness, and by a concerted effort to minimize the harms i commit in my life as much as i can, which means restitution, reconciliation, and sitting with my guilt. but i have never felt personally called to the act of confessing my wrongdoing to a priest, although i have felt called to seek advice and clarification from them.

i am also someone who has a complicated relationship with catholicism and religion in general: i also had a mom who got on me for not performing my religiosity the way she expected me to, or the way i was taught or raised. my advice is ultimately, that this issue is between you and God. if its something you feel comfortable with, talk to God (or the universe, or Spirit, or whatever you conceive a higher power to be). wait. listen. pay attention. if your spirit does not feel called to confession, listen to it. in the practical side, i might suggest tell your mom that you are in a process of discerning God's call for you. if you are comfortable with it, you may want to talk to a priest or another member of clergy on this topic- you may also want to try attending a different denomination, or another faith tradition altogether. read the bible. read torah. read the qur'ran. pray. i spent a long time discerning what God wanted from me, went through a period of agnosticism, atheism, and other, more pearl-clutchy things, and ended up more involved in my faith than anyone, including my mom, ever expected- but i needed to walk away from it first. i needed find my way home. God does not mind if we wander. he made a whole world for us to wander in. God's story with humanity is full of people walking away and finding their way back where they started again: or they are taken to places they could have never imagined. either way, he is there. either way, you'll know. but lean into this place you're in now: it, like everything, has something to teach you.

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gojos-thot-patrol · 1 year

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Sukuna was a long forgotten God, one with only one true devotee left. And he would do anything to keep his high priestess safe.

NSFW God!Sukuna x HighPriestess!Reader. lots of religous refences and symbolism, heads up. also full of Mahito slander. an attempted (and failed) assult attempt. Blood kink if you squint. I believe thats it for TWs. 18+ only minors DNI, reader is AFAB and uses she/her. i wrote this while very very drunk. no beta reader, we die as men. no editor we die as fools.

On the edge of the village, deep in the woods, across the river and past the graveyard, there stands a long forgotten temple. Though, “stands” is pretty generous these days if you were being honest with yourself. The temple had fallen into your family's care you don't even know how long ago. That record had long since been lost to time, as well as any record of the temple even standing, thanks to your 7 times great grandfather. Your family had at one point taken great pride in maintaining the temple, but, since sorcery came to your extremely small village and took over as the dominant religion, running a temple of any sort could have gotten you killed.

And your family just so happened to worship Sukuna, a god deemed the worst of the worst by the sorcerers. It made maintaining the temple almost impossible. And with the death of your father, you were left as the last of your bloodline. The last person that would ever care for that holy ground. These are the thoughts that plagued your mind as you made the hike to what you genuinely considered to be your safe space. The place that your mind summoned when you closed your eyes and envisioned home. You grunted as you opened the door, noticing that it was starting to stick again. Yea, the winter was coming. That checked.

The only thing that stood truly tall in this church for a heretic was a 7ft tall marble statue, representing the visage of your god. At least you think it did. You’d never met the man (being?) personally. “I’m sorry I’m late my lord,” you muttered softly to the marble as you knelt by the altar in front of it. You’d taken to talking more casually to Sukuna these days. Despite being a literal God, he was the only being (entity?) you had ever felt comfortable talking to. “Mandatory worship ran late today, though, I suppose there's nothing new there.”

Despite the relationship a priestess should have with her deity, you had taken to almost considering Sukuna to be a friend of yours. Should you do that? Probably not. But, as far as you knew, you were the last person in the world that worshiped this God, and as far as you were concerned, that met you got to decide how best to honor him.

You spoke freely with the god as you placed the offerings on his altar, a long ornate table with a plush velvety cloth running along its length. The offerings were nothing special. Some roses from your garden, a few gold you were able to spare, and some coffee. You had brought enough for 2 cups, enough to share. As you placed the offerings, you swore the statue behind the table warmed, the energy in it changing from cold stone to something with more life in it, as if Sukuna himself had awoken to spend yet another evening listening to you.

Of course, you had no way of knowing that was literally what was happening. It had become how Sukuna kept track of the days, marking each one with a visit from his high priestess. He watched from the statue's eyes as you curled up at its base with your coffee and a book. He noticed a cup next to him.

“Oh, how cute.” he thought to himself, “We’re sharing coffee now…I used to kill people.” he groaned to no one, rolling his eyes inside the stone. It annoyed Sukuna to no end how long it had been since he’d been summoned. It wouldn’t take much, her unshakeable faith in him had kept him relatively strong. A blood sacrifice was all he was asking. Any trivial reason would do, any excuse to escape this miserable marble. He resented your however many great grandfathers for burning the information on how to properly worship him.

“Mahito came to ask for my hand in marriage again today.” you told your god as you sipped your coffee.

“Oh, this fucking guy again.” Sukuna growled. That failed science experiment of a man had been harassing you for months now. “I’ll slaughter him for you. Just let me out of this marble hell.”

“He said I couldn’t keep denying him forever.”

“Yes you can.”

“I told him I very well could.”

“Good.”

“Then he told me that no one else in the village wanted me. And that if I keep this up I’d just die an old hag.” you sighed into your cup.

“I’d rather you die a hag than touch him.” Sukuna scoffed. He couldn’t imagine his last priestess being violated by that unloved rag doll.

“I said better a hag than his wife. I’d rather cut my hand off than touch that breathing corpse.”

“Atta girl.” Sukuna smiled. He didn’t know if you felt his influence that strongly or if you were just inherently on the same wavelength as him. Whatever the case was, He couldn’t remember liking any of his other followers quite as much as he liked you. Not that he’d ever admit it. For him, an immortal god of war and death, to care for a mortal was disgraceful at best and a sin unto itself at worst. Still, he knew a part of him would mourn you when your inevitable last breath escaped you.

“Honestly my lord, every day I come just a little bit closer to faking my death and running to live the rest of my life here, away from the village.” you announced, agitation lacing your voice. Honestly, Sukuna wasn’t against the idea. At least then he’d always have you near. “I know it’s my duty to bear children so your worship continues after I'm gone, but the men in this village are truly insufferable my Lord! Couldn’t you send me just a half decent one? I’ll settle for one that showers!”

Yeaa, that wasn’t really in Sukuna’s wheelhouse. Besides, He’d given up long ago on his worship being continued after you were gone anyway. He wished he would find a way to tell you that. That he’d rather have no followers than a follower that came from any of those filthy fucks touching you. He thought for a moment, then summoned what he hoped was a sign.

“Oh! A spider friend!” you laughed as you noticed a garden spider crawling up your leg. You took it in your hand, knowing Sukuna was historically considered the father of spiders due to his many arms and eyes. “I must have said something you liked, hmm?” you purred, gently placing the friend at the statue's base. “Does this mean you will send me someone?”

Sukuna decided that signs were utterly ineffective against humans, because everytime he sent one they fucked it up. He’d have to just spell it out for her. And he would! If she would just SUMMON HIS CORPOREAL FORM, FOR FUCKS SA-

“Oh dear, it’s getting late isn’t it? “ you muttered, packing up your things. “I should return home…” you never wanted to. As far as you were concerned, this was home. Here, in the woods you grew up in, hidden by the walls you had entered every day since you came to age, next to possibly the last idol of your god left in the world. But, sadly, if you choose to just up and leave, people would look for you. And you couldn’t risk them coming here.

“Goodbye, my lord.” you muttered, moving around the altar, stretching on your tip toes and still only managing to kiss his sculpted robes. You chuckled to yourself. The sculpture was so nice, even all these years later you still expect the cloth to give at your touch.

“Goodbye Y/n.” Sukuna sighed as he watched you ready yourself to leave. So ends another day. You gathered your things and made your way back to your little cottage at the edge of your village.

~~~~~~

The walk back to your place was as uneventful as ever. It was peaceful even. The moon was full and bright, lighting your way easily through the dark woods, and you didn’t even feel a little spooked when you passed through the graveyard. But, that wasn’t really anything new. You always felt more confident after visiting Sukunas altar. It may have sounded crazy to others (I mean, it sounded a little crazy to you,) but you swore you could feel your Gods protection as you walked home.

That was until your cottage came into view. You didn’t know why at first, but when it came into view your blood turned to ice. Your body instinctively stopped, knowing the danger before your brain did. Why were you so scared? Then it hit you. The lights were on inside. You never leave the lights on when you leave your home. Hell, you barely had the lights on when you were home, they were far too bright and you could think of nothing more opposed to your soul than sitting with them on when they didn’t need to be. That's what candles and table lamps were for, not the main light.

So then why the fuck was the main light on? Your body went into defense mode, which..was honestly just the symptoms of a panic attack coming on. Your mouth became a desert, your stomach threatened a violent revolt, and your heart decided to run a marathon. You could feel spiders crawling up your spine, as if they were telling you to walk away. Don't go in there, return to the safety of your shrine. But when you touched your spine, you found nothing there.

Your entire being was shouting at you to turn around, That that house held something dangerous inside. But you had never been one to listen to your instincts. And you had contraband in there. Journals filled with your day to day activities. Including your worship habits. Confessional after confessional sat on a bookshelf in your living room. How could you have been so foolish? You mentally apologized to your ancestors for being angry at them with burning ancient texts, and ran to your demise.

You honestly should have been less surprised by what you found. “Oh, Y/n. You're home.” Mahito greeted you, looking up from one of your many journals as you walked into your living room. Your eyes didn’t meet his though. You were more focused on the knife shining in his free hand. That didn’t come from your kitchen. Why did he have it? Mahito was more than annoyed now. He was standing in your home and yet you still had the audacity to ignore him? He closed the book with a soft thud and stood up from your couch, walking over to you.

Suddenly, you were forced to make eye contact with his cold mismatched eyes. He had grabbed you by your cheeks and forced you to look at him, his grip tightening as you struggled to move away. “My my Y/n…look at the mess you’ve gotten yourself into now.” he sighed.

“Let me go!” you demanded. He pulled you closer.

“But I can't do that dollface. You’ve been practicing curse worship! I should report you to the church, you know that right?” he faked a sigh, his voice dripping with pity, but his eyes enjoying your pain a little too much.

“No! You wouldn’t do that! You hate the church as much as I do!” you gasped as he brought the knife to your face.

“No, you’re right. I wouldn’t, and I do. It would be much more efficient to just kill you myself, then show your diaries to the church as a defense.” you hated the fact that he’d get away with your murder by showing the church leaders some bound paper, but..it was still a fact that he would.

“Mahito, please..” you whimpered.

“Please what doll? Make a deal with you?” he asked, pulling your body unwillingly closer to his. He nestled the cool steel of his hunting blade into your cheek, and became all too preoccupied with your chest. “We could do that..but of course, I’m going to want something for my silence..”

Oh, fuck that! If you were going to die anyway, you were gonna die fighting. You Violently shook your head, freeing your face from his grasp and cutting your cheek in the process. You reached up and grabbed his knife by the blade, not even feeling it slice your hand open as you rammed your forehead into his nose. The pain that pulsed through Mahitos skull in electric waves forced him to stumble back.

“You fucking cunt!” he roared, regaining his balance. But, you were already out the door, running for your life to the woods. When nowhere else was safe, your shrine was. You could hear Mahito stumbling after you, determined to finish what he started. You began to pray with everything you had that you’d at least survive the night. Not that you needed to. The moment you had felt you were in danger, Sukuna had been hyper aware of you.

In his current state though? His hands were all but tied. All he could do was will you to his side, and hope the temple would scare him off. He watched as you burst through the temple door, almost knocking it off of its old hinges in your desperation. His outlook on the situation greatly approved as he saw the crimson dripping from you.

“My lord!” you yelled despite yourself, running to the shrine.

“Look at you, you pathetic wench! Calling out for a god that doesn't even exist!” Mahito yelled as he entered the temple behind you. You fell onto the table, your bleeding face and hand in the offering altar. “And now, you’re going to die here, screaming for help that won’t come!”

“Sukuna!” you yelled, not entirely sure why. It seemed to work though. While normally there was supposed to be more showmanship and bravado involved with summoning Sukunas corporeal form, he’d make an exception all things considered. The candles in the temple all went out as an ice cold wind blew through the thin walls, and lighting cracked the sky, so violently even Mahito had to pause to take notice.

The very foundation of your small temple began to shake, causing the roof to rain down spackle. You covered your head with your arms, blocking the view. “What the, who the fuck are you!?” you heard Mahito yell in confusion as the smell of pine and iron filled the room,

“I’m the God that doesn’t even exist.” a rough unknown yet familiar voice said. It was like a poisonous honey, sweet with the promise of death. “And you're in my temple. Harassing my high priestess. And I can not let that slide.” No fucking way. You thought to yourself. You opened your eyes to see the back of an impossibly tall, muscular man. He was covered in tattoos, with too pretty to be on him pink hair. Oh, and he had four arms. Is that?..

“Oh, are you now?” Mahito asked, ever the incredulous one. “Well then, what are you going to do about it?!”

“I’m going to kill you.” Sukuna said, deciding that sugar coating it would be a disservice to both of them. I guess Mahito didn’t see that the man in front of him was seven feet tall, or that he had four arms. Or maybe Mahito forgot this was a Sukuna fic, and he was the villain. We don’t know what went through his head. What we do know is he ran at Sukuna, knife up ready to kill. He didn’t get very far though. Sukuna grabbed him by the throat the moment he was in arms reach.

“You don’t listen very well, do you punk?” Sukuna asked as the small man struggled for air in his hands. “I didn’t expect you to. My priestess has told me all about your refusal to take no for an answer.” Sukuna pulled Mahito close to him, getting a good look at his face. He was far less than impressed. “I don’t like it when others try to play with things that are mine. And you’re notorious for that.”

His claws dug deeper, drawing blood. Sukuna watched as horror filled the blue haired man’s eyes, and it sent a rush of blood straight to his head. He grinned. Gods, he missed this. “Not only that, but after harassing my girl, you come to my temple and disrespect me. I was going to make this quick at first,” no, he wasn't. “But now? I think I’ll take my time.”

You covered your eyes again as your God got to work, not wanting to see his bloody creative process. Mahitos screams were unlike anything you had ever heard before or would ever hear since. The sounds of someone begging for mercy, then for help, then for death is a sound that becomes etched into the human soul. You wanted to feel bad for him, but you couldn’t help but feel like he deserved it.

It felt like hours before the man had finally fallen silent. In the quiet aftermath, you heard footsteps coming toward you. “Are you hurt?” the man (being? entity?..deity?) from before asked, noticeably less edge in his voice. You felt a heavy hand rest on your shoulder, and you finally opened your eyes. “It’s..it’s really you.” you muttered softly. Sukuna gave a sly grin.

“In the flesh,” he confirmed. You quickly remembered your place under him, and scrambled to your knees to pray. You..should have taken worship waaayyy more seriously than you had.

“Oh, don’t do that.” Sukuna scoffed. You had been far too casual with him in the past to start doing shit like that now. It felt unnatural. “Look at me Y/n.” he demanded. You were not one to refuse an order when given to you by a god. You looked up at him with giant doe eyes that would have pulled on his heartstrings if he had one. He inspected your cheek, brushing the blood away with his thumb. Disgust filled his blood as he realized someone else had left their mark on his shrine maiden. But, at least they did a shit job of it. It wouldn’t scar.

“Hand” he said, extending his own. You placed your injured hand palm up in his clawed one. He inspected the cut, maybe a little longer than he really needed too. It always fascinated him the way humans bleed and how easily they did so. That liquid crimson gave them life, and yet they were always so quick to lose it. He brought your palm to his surprisingly soft lips, kissing the wound gently. And bringing you to your feet. Your blood tasted sweet to him. He wondered what else tasted sweet.

For the first time you got a good look at the deity you had been worshiping. He looked at you with four maroon eyes, burning into yours. Your heart skipped a beat and you couldn’t help but mentally compare him to a puppy. Ok, well, maybe not a puppy. More like a fighting dog. All of his features held the pain of war, his clenched jaw, his muscular body, the way his very presence demanded and commanded fear, the cold steel he held in his eyes. Even so, beyond all that cold steel and rage, his eyes held a softness you had no way of knowing was reserved for you.

“Thank you.” you whispered, finally finding your breath. You forced yourself to look away from Sukuna.

“For what?” he asked, though he already knew your answer.

“For, well..I mean..” you vaguely gestured over to the pile of red goo formerly known as Mahito.

“Killing him?” Sukuna asked, raising a sculpted eyebrow at you.

“Yea..” you gulped, looking over at the massacre, then down. They were gonna need a sponge to get him into his funeral… “You took care of a major problem for me..”

“I know.” It was like you had forgotten all those conversations you had with him. Or you didn’t realize he heard them all, even through the thick barrier of the marble. “Don’t be confused mortal, I didn’t do this just for you. He was a problem for me too.” you suddenly felt embarrassment explode in your chest.

“O-oh, of course! How silly of me to think that a divine being would sully their hands just for me, I think I must forget myse-”

“Stop that.” Sukuna tsked, shutting you up instantly. “Were you not listening earlier mortal? He was a problem for me because he wanted to possess you. And I don’t like it when entitled fucks try to touch what’s mine.”

Oh. He considered you to be his property. You supposed that checked out. You had dedicated your life to him after all. “I just..I can’t believe you're real.” You muttered despite yourself. That almost offended Sukuna.

“That so? So tell me then, do all humans make a habit of bringing their imaginary friends offerings, or are you just the odd one out here Y/n?”

“Oh, come on, you’re a God! You know that's not what I meant!” you argued, forgetting that it wasn’t your friend you were arguing with, but a literal god of death, destruction, ruin and war. Someone that could tear you asunder with just a flick of their wrist. “I ment like…I can’t believe you're here and well…real! In the flesh! Something corporeal that I can touch and not just a distant entity..”

Sukuna was smirking at your little outburst. This is how he loved you. When you forgot where you stood before him. “I assure you darling, I’m real.” he promised, amusement leaking into his voice.

“But you shouldn’t be.” You reminded him, “So, It’s hard to believe..” your body froze as you realized Sukuna was walking closer to you. He stood mere centimeters away from you. You felt suddenly overwhelmed with his presence, he was suffocating, filling your senses with nothing but him. A divine sense of warmth and a blood chilling sense of dread and danger. He leaned down, his face so close you could feel his hot breath wash over you.

“Do you want me to prove to you just how real I am?” he asked. Your brain couldn't register the question. You were too focused on mentally tracing the lines on his face.

“I-I..” you mutter, looking for words other than may I please see your cock my lord, I want to see if it’s tattooed as well.

“I-I-I,” Sukunas mocking forced you back into focus, “What’s wrong pet? Deity got your tongue? What happened to all that tough talk from earlier?” Sukuna cooed mockingly.

“Would it be sacrilegious if I touched you, my Lord?..” you muttered softly, your mouth spitting out words your brain gave it no permission too. Sukuna grinned, your words going straight to his dick.

“Oh, most definitely.” He promised, closing the gap between you two. His hands found your hips, rubbing circles into them with his thumbs as he pulled you closer to him. His touch sent static to your core. “I'm no fertility God, fucking isn’t typically allowed in my temple.” fucking. He said it as an insult. “In fact, the very act of you lusting for me like this is considered sacrilegious.”

You felt dirty. You should have known better. Fantasizing about a supreme being in their own temple, how shameless were you? Not to mention self absorbed, thinking a God would be intimate with a lowly mortal like you. You suddenly become hyper aware of his every touch.

“But, I’ll make an exception for my favorite shrine maiden.” he purred into your ear, his head dipping down to kiss your neck, one of his unoccupied hands coming up to move your head to give him more room to work with. If his touch was static, then his kiss was pure lighting. Any thoughts that you shouldn’t be doing this melted from your mind as you relaxed into his arms. A soft purr escaped your lips, bringing a grin to his face.

His last free hand moved in between the two of you, finding the waistband of your skirt. A small gasp left your mouth as he slipped his clawed hand under it, using said claw to cut a slit in your underwear right where your folds are. You felt your heart race with anxiety and excitement as he ran his long fingers along your slit.

“So needy, aren't you pet?” he groaned softly. “I’ve barely even touched you and you're already dripping for me. So cute.” He mocked, his finger brushing against your nub. You whimpered softly, trying to move your hips for more friction, but his hands held you still. Curse him for having four arms, and curse your monsterfucking heart for being so into it.

“All for you..” you muttered softly, “Please...I-I need your touch my Lord..” Embarrassment burned you as you spoke. “I beg..” Your words went straight to Sukunas already hardening cock. The way you whined for him, like a desperate sinner begging for forgiveness. As if his touch and his touch alone could save you from damnation, when in reality, it was your one way ticket to hell.

Sukuna moved your head so he could get a better look at your still bleeding cheek, licking the blood away as he finally began to massage your swollen clit. Ecstasy pulsed through you as you moaned out your god's name. “You like that, don't you Heathen?” Sukuna taunted you, adjusting to slip his finger inside you, rubbing his thumb against your nub. You nodded dumbly, focusing on how he seemingly instantly found your G spot. “It’s so good..” you muttered.

Sukuna held back a laugh. Of course it was good. He knew your body better than any mortal man ever would, before he even touched you. He slipped another digit into your weeping pussy, forcing a moan from you. “Look at me Y/n.” He demanded. You forced your eyes open, unsure when you even closed them. You stared into his molten crimson eyes, an intensity drilling into your soul that forced you into submission.

Sukuna licked his lips as he stared into your tear pricked eyes, watching you desperately try to keep it together while he pumped his fingers into you. You looked even better than he ever could have imagined. And you we’re only going to look prettier the more fucked out you got. He caught your lips in a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth before you could even register what was happening.

You moaned softly into his kiss, losing yourself in him. He was all consuming. His lips were soft and plump, his fingers moved with expert skill, between the electric storm forcing your toes to curl and the fiery passion that filled your head with smoke, you forgot everything that wasn’t Sukuna. You could feel a knot forming in your stomach, threatening to break. His thumb focused on your clit, switching from lazy half circles to massaging with precision and purpose. A moan ripped out of your lungs and you felt your breathing become more labored.

“Sukuna, I-I’m,”

“I know you are.” Sukuna growled, focused on bringing you over the edge. He could feel the way your walls clenched around him, the way you gushed around his claws. The sound was obscene. “Cum for me darling,” he ordered, his mouth latching onto your neck to leave evidence of his ownership there.

It was as if your body didn’t know how not to follow the deity's command. The knot inside you snapped, waves of pleasure crashing into you and pulling you under as your cunt convulsed around his fingers. His name ripped its way out of your lungs as ecstasy shot through you, your vision turning white hot. Sukuna finger fucked you through your high, feeling his dick ache for you as he watched your blissed out face contour with pleasure.

“That's it slut,” he purred, “Cum all over your god.” you whimpered as your body finally relented, letting you look up at him. You’d never cum that hard on your life. Was this what it was like to be intimate with divinity? He removed his fingers from your dripping pussy and sucked them clean, humming in satisfaction. “You taste just as good as I thought you would.” he praised.

“Thank you my lord..” You muttered, unsure what else to do here.

“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, Pet.” Sukuna laughed. “I've waited for centuries to be summoned into my physical form, and I’ve waited far too long to fuck you to let you tap out now.” He chuckled darkly. He should be more embarrassed, frankly, That he was a God, a being of pure divinity and holy spite, that was desperately lusting for a human. But he was also the last of his kind. Who the hell was there for him to be embarrassed for? “On your knees, slut.” He growled.

You feel to your knees without having to even think about it. It was honestly your natural position in this holy temple. Sukuna looked down at you, on your knees, your head bowed before him, as if in the middle of prayer. It made his already impossibly hard cock twitch, desperate to sully you even further. It was times like these Sukuna wondered if he was really a god or just a demon parading around like one.

Doesn't matter. He rid himself of his robe, finally freeing his straining cock. “Look up.” He commanded you. You did so, your eyes filling with shock as you came face to face with the cock that was going to ruin you. Your innocent eyes widened as you forced yourself to look away from his dick and make eye contact with the devilish deity. He looked down at you with dark eyes.

“Don’t be so frightened. You can handle this.” He assured you, grabbing the back of your head and urging you to take him in. you licked your lips and wrapped your mouth around him, determined to please your god. Sukuna had a pretty cock, long and far thicker than you would have expected. And yes by the way, it was tattooed, just like the rest of his body. You sucked on his leaking pink tip, your hands moving to massage the prominent vein on his shaft. You moved to take as much of him in your mouth as possible, your hand handling (ha) everything that wouldn't fit.

Sukuna tangled his clawed hands into your hair, his hips rutting into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. You gagged around him, pulling a satisfied moan from Sukunas lips. You could feel the intensity of his eyes drilling down into you. You imagined this is what a bunny felt like when spotted by a wolf. You willed your eyes to look up at him, and felt ice run down your spine and straight to your soaking cunt. All four of his eyes were blown to hell with lust, a burning need to touch you in ways no mortal ever had before. If he had it his way, you’d be addicted to ‘worship’ before the night was over.

“That's right pet, just like that.” he praised you, before very abruptly slamming his entire length into you, forcing you to gag around him. “Your mouth feels so good princess,” He cooed, looking down as tears began to stream from your face. You’d think that may have slowed him down, but in reality it had the very opposite effect. Sukuna had never seen anything sexier. It set an explosion off in his blood and mind. He was suddenly done playing.

He pulled you off his cock, groaning at the sight. You looked up at him with a tear stained face, confusion in your red eyes, a string of spit connecting your puffy lips to his cock. He wanted to paint a picture of the scene and hang it in a museum. Wanted to frame the work of art and hang it in every temple that had ever been dedicated to him. He pulled you off the floor and into his arms, carrying you to the sturdiest wall his temple had left.

“M-my lord?..” you asked weakly. His touch burned your body in all the most exquisite ways. The feeling of being touched and desired by that was untouchable was forever engraved into your mortal flesh. He pushed you up against the wall, two arms holding you up and two arms ripping off your blouse. “M-my lord,” you tried again, “Should we really-”

You were cut off by an absolutely sinful moan ripping from your throat as Sukuna's mouth wrapped around your hardening nipple. His now free hands we’re bunching your skirt around your hips, finishing the job from earlier and ripping your panties in 2. Anxiety and excitement exploded in your chest as you felt the tip of his cock glide along your folds. Two hands continued to hold you up, one finding your exposed breast and massaging it while the final hand intertwined itself with your injured palm. Salt from sweat filled your open wound, stinging it and spilling blood into his own hand.

“Beg for me Princess.” He demanded, teasing your entrance with the head of his dick.

“Please! Please fuck me Sukuna!” you panted out, trying to grind your hips down onto him, desperate for any friction. A desire unlike any you had ever known overtook you. “Please! Fuck me, I need it. Leave your mark on me, fill me, do whatever you want to me, but please I need your cock inside me.”

Sukuna would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little taken aback by just how vulgar his little shrine maiden could get. He’d also be lying if he said he wasn’t beyond into it. “Look at me.” He demanded, holding your gaze as he finally lowered you onto his throbbing cock, pulling you down to his hilt. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he split you open in the most delicious way. Your head back as you savored the burn he sent through you.

“You’re so fucking tight.” Sukuna groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he lost himself in your warm velvety walls. He would have cum right then and there if he was any closer to mortality than he already was. “I’m going to mold this cunt to my cock.” He said, pulling back just to slam you right back down onto him. He set a ruthless pace, slow yet hard. He wanted to take every moment of you that he could. You moaned out his name as a broken prayer, dragging your nails down his back to try and ground yourself in reality. Nothing was real about this.

“‘So good…” you moaned, unable to form words.

“I know.” He chuckled darkly, quickly deciding his favorite version of you was the fucked out one. “What kind of god would I be if I couldn't please my priestess?” he hummed, littering marks wherever he could on your neck. He squeezed your thighs tight enough to leave bruises, and made sure to brush your g spot with every stroke of his cock. An unholy symphony of your sounds filled the once holy temple.

You could feel your skin heating up as electricity coursed through your blood. You lost sight of everything that wasn’t the divine cock punishing your pussy for every sin you had ever committed. You tangled your free hand into his hair. Trying and failing to catch your breath as a now familiar knot formed inside your abdomen.

“Fuck, Y/n,” Sukuna moaned, catching your lips with his. “You’re taking me so well, it’s almost like this cunt was made for me. What do you think Pet?” He asked with a particularly hard thrust to your cervix. You nodded without thinking.

“Yes! Yes, lord, yes!” you moaned breathlessly. Sukuna grinned, looking down at you through half lidded eyes.

“I was hoping you’d agree.” he moaned, his hand slitting itself in between the two of you and rubbing calculated circles into your clit. You screamed out his name at the added stimulation, so close to the edge it hurt.

“Oh God, I- fuck..” You spoke through broken moans.

“Look at you, calling for me like a whore when I'm right here.” Sukuna mocked, “Still doubting if Im real or not?” if you could have formed a thought, you would have said ‘no my lord, not any more.’ but at that moment, your brain only had one thought.

“I’m gonna cum! Gonna cum, please, let me cum-” you begged for him.

“Cum for me darling.” He moaned, basking in the way you came undone around him. The way your pussy squeezed him was divine, your legs locking him in place as he rocked into you, helping you ride out your right. He was lost in the way you felt, your pleasure the greatest offering he’d been given. Euphoria and ecstasy washed over you in intense waves, so much so you thought you might suffocate. It was overwhelming in all the best ways.

Sukuna felt you gushing around him and couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He came undone, spilling his divinity into you in white hot spurts. Your fluids mixing together as Sukuna fucked his holy seed back inside you, riding out both of your highs.

You went limp in his arms, his head rested on your shoulder as you both struggled to catch your breath. “My god..” you muttered softly.

“Yes?” Sukuna asked with a light chuckle. You softly hit his shoulder, as if that was going to do anything. He pulled out of you, letting the warm fluids drip down your legs. He adjusted your position in his arms. Holding you bridal style as he walked you over to his altar, arguably the most comfortable place in his table. He laid you down as if you were an offering to him, holy and sacred in your own right.

He chuckled when he saw you reach out for him. He was going to ignore you, but cuddled up beside you on the table despite himself. He couldn’t get enough of your mortal warmth. It was comfortable having you in his arms. He could get used to this. How bad could fucking your last devotee be anyway? He liked this.

“The townspeople are going to surely ask about Mahito.” you muttered. You had to ruin it, didn’t you?

“Don’t worry about them darling.” Sukuna muttered, pulling you closer to him in hopes of lulling you to sleep.

“How can I not, my lord?” you asked with those innocent eyes Sukuna was growing to love and loath.

“Because in the morning I’m going to burn your village to the ground with everyone in it.” Sukuna didn’t mince words. You were his follower, you knew what he was about.

“Oh, I see.” you nodded, not bothering to talk him out of it. You didn’t want to talk him out of it.

“Yes. so get some sleep Darling. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.” he said, pulling you into his chest, keeping you more than warm while you slept.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #trueform!sukuna #size kink #blood kink #sacriligious #sacreligious #possessive sukuna #mahito slander #soft sukuna #maybe?#almost soft sukuna #dom sukuna #bottom reader

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sehodreams · 3 months

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RIIZE AS TAYLOR SWIFT SONGS

Hey guys, so I saw @///gyuvision doing this and I thought it was the cutest thing ever, she did it so well I couldn't stop thinking about them when I heard music, to be honest I wanted to assign an era to each one but I couldn't decide (except Shotaro, he's definitely 1989, and Anton, he's Lover), so if you like it I’ll try to do that one.

These are songs that make me think about each member when I listen to them, I had so much fun doing this, hope you all enjoy it too!

TW and tags: fluff (?), a bit of toxic!Eunseok, a touch of angst, mentions of first time with Anton but nothing explicit (by the way they’re 18/19), fwb(?)!Wonbin.

WC: 2.1K

Note: This is not dark at all, if you don’t like that kind of content, I don’t recommend you visit my blog.

SEUNGHAN - The Archer

He's been so hurt, and it's even more painful because the people who have been trying to sabotage him are mostly friends, ‘cause all of my enemies started as friends, this song always makes me think of him, and how vulnerable he must feel seeing pictures of his past all around the internet, ‘cause they see right through me, can you see right through me? I see right through me, also, how much he must have felt responsible for the group's reputation, scared of being an obstacle to all the boys and regretting his past, I never grew up, it's getting so old, I'm sure he'll always remember these hard times, I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost, the room is on fire, on invisible smoke, but I hope he learns how to be stronger from this and comes back safely to the group with the same, or a better, energy, combat, I'm ready for combat.

EUNSEOK - False God

Eunseok would give you the most intense love story of your life, with an energy that makes you forget about anything else that isn't him and you two together, I know heaven's a thing, I go there when you touch me, honey hell is when I fight with you, however, I don’t think it’s a love that would last forever, you know it, he knows it, everyone knows it, they all warned us about times like this, they say the roads get hard and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith, and it doesn’t necessarily ends because you two don’t love each other anymore, but because of life circumstances and personalities, and I can’t talk to you when you’re like this, staring out the window like I’m not your favorite town, still, a love like the one you two had was impossible to get over, it doesn’t matter how much you two have tried it, you want to be together again, but we can patch it up good, make confessions and we’re begging for forgiveness, got the wine for you, but you're not good for each other anymore, and you can’t talk to me when I’m like this, daring you to leave me just so I can try and scare you, so it becomes unstable, hard to maintain, a secret embarrassing to say out loud to others, but we might just get away with it, religion’s in your lips even if it’s a false god, at least, you two feel satisfied with what you have, because the thought of not being together is more painful than proudly living alone, we’d still worship this love, still worship this love, even if it’s a false god.

SUNGCHAN - You Belong With Me

Sungchan makes me think of friends-to-lovers and mutual pinning, knowing each other all life, you two had to be friends first to start having feelings for each other, I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're 'bout to cry, and I know your favorite songs, and you tell me 'bout your dreams, but not daring to ruin your friendship, you try to forget it being with other people, hurting each other in the process, If you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along, so why can't you see?, both of you have unfulfilling relationships with people you don’t love and that do not love you, and you've got a smile that can light up this whole town, I haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down, you say you're fine, I know you better than that, you two know it’s not going to work out because you two need each other to feel really happy, I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be, laughing on a park bench thinking to myself ‘’Hey, isn't this easy?’’, so after much time, none of you can deny what you feel anymore, have you ever thought, just maybe, you belong with me?

SHOTARO - Shake It Off

My sweet boy reminds me of this song because he always brings positivity to whenever he is, But I keep cruising, can’t stop, won’t stop grooving, it’s like I got this music in my mind sayin’, ‘’It’s gonna be alright’’, his pretty smile makes you smile too, and even when the others say he can be scary while dancing, he works hard because he wants to give people the best out of him, and his skills are not just from talent, but from effort and passion, I never miss a beat, I’m lightnin’ on my feet, and that’s what they don’t see, he’s actually a pretty brave boy, grabbing every opportunity that appeared in front of him, following his love for dance and moving alone to Korea, I’m dancin’ on my own, I make the moves up as I go, and that’s what they don’t know, he got to work with NCT to then go to Riize, a risky decision that maybe wasn’t a choice to start, just think, while you’ve been getting’ down and out about the liars, and the dirty dirty cheats of the world, you could’ve been getting’ down to this sick beat, he's a strong boy, and doesn’t matter the obstacles that he sees, he’ll always overcome them and appreciate the process, ‘cause the players gonna play, and the haters gonna hate, baby I’m just gonna shake, shake it off, I shake it off.

Extra: And to the fella over there with the hella good hair, won’t you come on over, baby? We can shake, shake, shake, is Shotaro calling Wonbin to dance together, lol.

SOHEE – Fearless

We all know the comments about Sohee growing up in a family that wasn’t as well positioned economically as the other members, I don’t want to confirm it, but taking that into mind, it makes me think that he comes from a place that, if he hadn’t worked so hard, would have made his dream stay just like that, a dream, there’s something about the way the street looks when it’s just rained, there’s a glow off the pavement, and that, apart from liking to sing, his dream of being a start was pushed by himself with the goal of helping his family get a better life, we’re drivin down the road, I wonder if you know I’m trying so hard not to get caught up now, but you’re so cool, run your hands through your hair, absentmindedly making me want you, always remembering where he comes from and all the support he had, he has values not many do, in this one-horse town, I wanna stay right here, in this passenger’s seat, you put your eyes on me, in this moment now, capture it, remember it, he already met his first goal, debuting, and he’s slowly getting used to a different lifestyle, you pull me in and I’m a little more brave, it’s the first kiss, it’s flawless, really something, it’s fearless, he took a hard decision for anyone in his circumstances and he’s finally seeing results, but he doesn’t take it for granted and continues working hard every day, ‘cause I don’t know how it gets better than this, you take my hand and drag me head first, fearless, showing how courageous he is and how he’ll never stop improving, because fear is not an impediment for him, and I don’t know why but with you, I’d dance, in a storm in my best dress, fearless.

ANTON - Cruel Summer

Anton is summer love, seeing each other again after many years, you two can’t remember how you used to look when you were younger, enjoying meeting as if it was the first time again, but this time, you can’t just be friends anymore, killing me slow, out the window, I’m always waiting for you to be waiting below, doing new things, things you never imagined before, you enjoy exploring a different side of yourself, devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes, tanned skin, friendship bracelets, the ocean and ice creams in the middle of the night, everything is pure pleasure around you two, what doesn’t kill me makes me want you more, everyone tells you to be careful, because summer will have an end, and you know it, so you decide to get the best out of it, sneaking out and having as many experiences together as possible, It’s cool, that’s what I tell ‘em, no rules, in breakable heaven, stealing cheap beers and whisky from your parents to then get sick because you two are too young to know how to hold your liquor, I’m drunk in the back of the car, and I cried like a baby coming home from the bar, you don’t want to admit it, but you think you’re the one who is more in love between you two, which hurts, said, ‘’I’m fine’’, but it wasn’t true, I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you, you believe you’re the one who is making most of the effort, risking things you never thought you’d before, and I snuck in through the garden gate, every night that summer just to seal my fate, and you thought he didn’t know about your feelings, but of course he did, who else would give as many things as you did? and I screamed for whatever is worth, ‘’I love you’’, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?, however, to your surprise, you find out you weren’t the one who was more in love, he looks up grinning like a devil, and, even if it ends, you two give each other all the first times anyone could ever wish, and It’s new, the shape of your body, so it’s cruel, but it’s the best summer, it’s blue, the feeling I’ve got, and it’s ooh, whoa, oh it’s a cruel summer.

WONBIN - I Think He Knows

Falling for Wonbin is easy, he draws people to him without even trying, so of course you’re one of his victims too, his footprints on the sidewalk lead to where I can’t stop, go there every night, just to have him near you was enough to enchant you, following him with your eyes all night, you can’t help but go to him, his hands around a cold glass make me wanna know that body like it’s mine, you’re the one who has to start the interaction, and even if you weren’t used to it, you did it, pushing the fear of rejection aside, seeing a man like him was unusual, and you had to shoot your shot, he got that boyish look that I like in a man, it wasn’t as hard as you thought, with confidence, and a weak strategy, you caught his attention too, I am an architect, I’m drawing up the plans, a bit awkward at first, you being the one getting close first made you feel like a young kid running behind her crush again, it’s like I’m 17, nobody understands, no one understands, but you liked it, the nervous eyes, the heart beating, the hands sweating, it was something exciting that reminded you of good times, he got my heartbeat skipping down 16th avenue, but you weren’t a child anymore, that interaction wouldn’t end with you two holding hands, and with him reciprocating the energy, you felt it coming, got that, ah, I mean, wanna see what’s under that attitude, like, I want you, bless my soul, and I ain’t gotta tell him, I think he knows, and unlike the meeting, the touches weren’t awkward at all, both of you perfectly knowing what to do to satisfy each other, when we get all alone, I’ll make myself at home, and he’ll want me to stay, but you knew his type, and he knew yours, or so he thought, because after a couple of meetings and getting to know the real you, I think he knows he’d better lock it down or I won’t stick around, ‘cause good ones never wait, he didn’t want to let you go anymore, he’s so obsessed with me and boy I understand, boy I understand, he was new to approaching someone, always being the approached one, but again, with a bit of your help, everything was possible, lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh, we could follow the sparks, I’ll drive, and just like falling for him, being with him was easy too, because after you showed him the path, he knew what to do, ‘’So where we gonna go?’’ I whisper in the dark, ‘’Where we gonna go?’’ I think he knows.

#riize x plus size reader #riize x reader #riize smut #sehodreams thoughts #anton x reader #eunseok x reader #wonbin x reader #sungchan x reader #sohee x reader #shotaro x reader #seunghan x reader #riize imagines #riize scenarios #kpop scenarios #riize fluff

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