#why do people do this why are they so cruel

[shakingparadigm]

Seeing all those analysis posts about how Till liked Mizi because she was gentle while not giving the same attention to Ivan because he wasn't... how Ivan might have made Till uncomfortable because he expressed his admiration for Till through violence because he liked how Till had the courage to fight back...

I was wandering if Ivan ever realized that the way he went about showing his feelings wasn't positive for Till and he fucking did. "I wish I had been kinder" he fucking regrets dude, fuck me man.

(This veered wildly off-topic I am so sorry.)

Coming back to this ask after the most recent R6 update is interesting.

I've always wondered why they chose the title Cure in particular. I was expecting a song title along the lines of Star or something abyssal. Then I thought about Till's affiliation with experiments and drugs and the various ways he was hurt. Cure... It also brings to mind how the content for Ivan highlights his "oddness", how he's framed as someone different, almost wrong in a sense. There's something that he lacks, something that he feels the need to fix, to cure.

In the recent ROUND 6 production post, the true meaning is revealed. You're right on a certain level, but as always, it's complicated.

Both Ivan and Till seek a certain type of "healing", maybe to compensate for their pain, their oddness and their loneliness. They wish to be cured of their suffering somehow and they seek the solution in other people.

QMENG states that Till desires a type of healing that Ivan cannot provide, and vice versa.

It goes without saying, pretty common knowledge at this point, but Till is a lot softer under his rebellious front. As someone who's been beat and abused his whole life, it makes sense that that type of love he'd want is something gentler, something stable. It's incredibly obvious in the way he acts towards Mizi. She's so genuine, so bright, untainted by the cruel reality of the world. Till softens around her, since she has only showed him kindness he in turn shows her the sweetest side of himself. He's had nothing stable to cling onto before, so he immediately becomes attached to this idealized version of Mizi. He believes she's the only person who can provide him with what he needs, the only one who can "heal" him.

It's outright stated that Ivan cannot provide that type of "healing" that Till is looking for. Ivan does try, of course. Unfortunately, he lacks something fundamental. Because of this he expresses himself in rather childish ways, which may involve a little cruelty and attention-seeking. A lot of Ivan's actions are muddled by his complicated feelings as well, as its stated that his true emotions and intentions are difficult to grasp. With Till, Ivan wants to save and be saved, hurt and heal him, keep him and set him free. Live for him and die for him. He criticizes Sua on the ethics of self-sacrifice and then goes on to do the same himself. With Ivan, everything contradicts.

He tries desperately to be the cure that Till needs, but due to his incredibly complex nature that "healing" will never be just healing. It may come with more pain and confusion despite his best efforts.

I don't think Till refused to give Ivan attention because he wasn't gentle enough, rather I think it's because everything was so complicated whenever Ivan was involved. Ivan is there for him in his times of need and causes a fair bit of trouble during the rest. He's strange and hard to grasp, but he's familiar. Calling each other "friends" seemed like such an inadequate label because they're simultaneously too close and not close enough. Ivan does wish he was kinder, though. Not only to Till, but to Sua and most likely a few other people as well. There's a lot of aspects in which Ivan wishes he were different, and it's tragic to hear how he deprecates himself in his final moments for it.

There's the second half of QMENG's statement as well, "vice versa". Till cannot provide what Ivan needs either, but Ivan desperately desires it anyway.

Ivan views Till as his cure. He wants to not only "heal" Till, but to be healed by him as well. This desire can be seen in the lyrics of Cure:

Notice my pain

And mend me right now

To quiet my fears

I'll drown in you

(The wish for "healing" is stated.)

In your gaze, where I’m seen

Consume me, yes, me, oh, oh

(Ivan urges Till to "consume" him like medicine, he wishes to be what Till needs.)

Ivan lacks something, and he believes that Till can make up for that lack which is why he's so fascinated by him. If Ivan is a black abyss, Till is a supernova, bringing life to an empty void. Unfortunately, Till is explosive and rather inept at handling his own extreme emotions, which causes him to either lash out violently or retreat further inward and push Ivan away. He's also a thoroughly destructive and hurt individual, seeking his own cure in another form. He cannot provide what Ivan needs.

Both Ivan and Till are incredibly volatile. That's not to say they don't have their gentler sides, but overall they've been doomed from the start. Ultimately it's no fault of theirs, they did what they could with their complicated feelings and fought through their own respective hells.

In the end, Ivan had to come to terms with the fact that he couldn't get the "healing" he needed and could never be what Till needed, either. That's why he finally acted on his impulses and let his complicated feelings win over, resulting in his death. Despite all the heartache, his final thoughts are a statement of gratitude. Truly a tragedy.

#eughh sorry for all that anon. thank you for the ask! #i dont even know if this is coherent anymore im sorry #alnst #alien stage #alien stage ivan #alien stage till #ivantill #alien stage round 6 #asks

[hootbon]

Okay, if this question bothers you, please ignore it, but I want to ask. Why is everyone so cruel to Ragatha? Then think about it like this:

Caine: By stitching her mouth shut and imprisoning her in the carriage, he caused the audience to kill her

Pomni:She let Kaufmo kill her (although it's not exactly Pomni's fault)

Kaufmo and Jax: do I need to tell you?

I think the only people who treat Ragatha well are Zooble and Gangle

Have you seen the canon show?

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #freakshow au #tadc freakshow #freakshow ragatha #I mean that in a light hearted way

[caughtthedarkness93]

Not to do more Furiosaposting (and SPOILERS AHEAD), but a couple more things I noticed on a second viewing:

• I think Dementus is being honest about how he lost his family when Furiosa confronts him about it, and that's a big point the film is making. Furiosa isn't like Dementus when she finally chases him down. But she recognizes that she could become like him - a vile, cruel warlord who uses his own pain as an excuse to run roughshod all over the wasteland, smashing everything in her path, using her pain as an excuse to take from others. By that point, she's already a part of Immortan Joe's war machine. She is already complicit. And he does say to her that killing him won't give her what she wants. She resists the idea, but ultimately, it sure seems like she realizes he's right. And ultimately, that leads to her big choice - make a positive change rather than simply trying to hurt the people who hurt you. Granted, she still does do plenty of hurting the people who hurt her (Nice face you got there, Joe, be a shame if something happened to it). But the big, real legacy she builds is taking the Citadel in the name of a greater cause than fueling Immortan's cult of cruelty.

• Praetorian Jack is also complicit, honestly. And it's something he seems to recognize. He outright says that he's looking for a righteous cause. There's a lot we don't know about this man. He tells us very little of his history, nor do we know why he chooses to ride for Immortan Joe. But we do know that after meeting Furiosa, he wants to do everything in his power to help her. She becomes his righteous cause. So the whole film, Furiosa is kind of pulled between those two directions - Dementus, and Jack. Do you defeat the pain you carry by throwing it back to the people who gave it to you? Or do you seek a righteous cause to build it into something positive?

• Perhaps one of my biggest takeaways is related to Jack's death. It's not until Dementus kills Jack that Furiosa gets really set on revenge. Like she clearly loathes Dementus before that. Her first time meeting him as an adult, she goes straight for her gun. The camera highlights their relationship a lot, and I'm pretty sure her vengeful drive towards him has its own musical motif - listen for that driving, distorted noise that you hear sometimes. But revenge doesn't become her biggest driver until after Jack dies. Even as she feels clear hate and rage towards this man, she's still set on getting home all that time. But when Jack dies, she goes out of her way to try to kill him. And, relatedly, when Jack dies, she loses the arm that has her star map tattoo on it. So to put it another way, when she chooses to commit to vengeance, she loses her way.

• We need to consider perspective and narrator here, as this isn't like Fury Road where it's from the point of view of Max, who was directly there. Because this film's opening shot isn't of Furiosa. It's of another character - it's of the History Man. The first line belongs to him - "As the world falls around us. How must we brave it's cruelties?" The closing narration is his as well. Something that sticks in my head more and more is Dementus' ultimate fate. What gets me about it is that it feels implausible. Not only for Furiosa as a character, but for the way the series usually handles injuries. So George Miller was a paramedic before he was a filmmaker. In fact, his work as a paramedic is what partly inspired the first Mad Max film and what funded it. And in these films, Miller has put his medical knowledge to use. The characters' injuries are usually handled in a realistic way, with a few flights of fancy for people to make it through frankly absurd car wrecks. You see this especially in Fury Road, which takes the time to establish that Max is a universal donor twice so it makes sense to have him give a blood transfusion to Furiosa at the end. It talks about the ultimate effects of her collapsed lung and how to treat it. The injuries in these films feel realistic in a way movie wounds often don't. Dementus' final fate does feel a little complicatedly cruel for someone as pragmatic as Furiosa, but what really gets me is how medically implausible it is. We're supposed to believe that Dementus has been stuck in the citadel with a peach tree growing out of him for five years without dying? I...kinda don't. Why does this matter? I think it signals that aspects of the story fall to unreliable narration. These films are campfire stories from a world that fell and rose again. Always have been. But this one has a more direct narrator. The History Man is telling this story. It is filtered through his perspective.

• And that adds another layer to things, considering Furiosa and the History Man's backgrounds. We see the History Man, we see a guy who is clearly horrified by Dementus' actions. When Furiosa's mom is getting executed, he cries. He tells Furiosa that she needs to make herself indispensable - likely because he feels that it's the best way to protect her. But he still does Dementus' bidding, often without question or argument. In a word, the thing that ultimately separates the History Man from Furiosa is that where he was complicit until the very end, Furiosa chose to rebel.

• And I guess if I had to boil it all down, I think there's a great big takeaway from this film. Don't seek hope. Become hope.

Man, I love this movie.

#mad max furiosa #furiosa #furiosa a mad max saga #mad max #george miller #mad max fury road #long post warning

[starlightshadowsworld]

Out of everyone I want to know why and how Hirotsu joined the Port Mafia. He's as far as we know it's longest serving member.

Mori wasn't in charge back than, nor the old Boss. And if we're following the pattern of teens joining the Port Mafia than the Agency wouldn't have been around back than.

The Port Mafia Hirotsu joined would be very different to how it is in the present.

And yet he thrives as one of its elite. He's seen so much blood shed and doesn't bat an eye at the darker parts of this life.

But Hirotsu remains kind. He deeply cares for his subordinates, past and present.

He held back the vampire transformation so Tachihara could get away. Dazai's a traitor and yet Hirotsu is right there when he needs him.

Just like he always had been.

This is what he says to 15 year old Chuuya when he's fighting him in Fifteen.

"Don't worry yourself young one. 'Victory is determined by whichever ability is the strongest' when I was younger I believed that too."

I love that like Chuuya might be the target, might be the King of the Sheep but he's still a kid.

And Hirotsu is fully aware of that, he's gonna do his job but he's not gonna be unnecessarily cruel about it.

He'll he's probably one of the few people who have ever recognised that Chuuya was just a kid.

The other part makes me wonder if that's why Hirotsu joined the Port Mafia. He thought his ability made him untouchable and learned the truth the hard way.

Maybe he decided to join the Port Mafia to discover what true strenght is.

Maybe, whatever it is I'd love to find out.

#hirotsu ryuurou #bsd hirotsu #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd fifteen

[tsams-confessions]

I see a lot of hate pouring in for the VAs right now, so a quick reminder that those are human beings! They are living breathing people with emotions! They are providing you with entertainment!

You can be upset with lore or character development just like any other movie, show, book, whatever. But actively going after, badmouthing, or generally being hostile towards creators is never okay.

How would you feel if you got harassed because you decided to take your character on a different route then originally planned? Accused of being some cruel, mean person because you decided to do something with your characters?

Not to mention many people are saying they have seen this blog, which I highly doubt. But if you think they're looking here, why are you actively being rude about them where they'll see it?

.

#sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #tsams #sams #tsams confession #< block this if you dont want to see these #mod 1blood

[arthursdolly]

“𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒊'𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔𝒆.”

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓓! creds to @lazypapers . inspo for this . low honor arthur morgan . arthur if he was an o'driscoll. usual rdr2 violence

parley. that's what pearson called it. hosea called it a trap, micah and dutch were happy going to talk to the o'driscolls to end this feud between the two gangs. finally.

the o'driscolls and the van der linde gang.

arthur was on watch, he was ready to shoot at any danger. he was a distance away, watching everything go down through his sniper from a higher point. just in case they tried anything, u could never trust an o'driscoll. and after all that, hosea was right.

this was a trap.

the bullet to the shoulder, his ears ringing, his mind blurred. he was weak and vulnerable. he wasn't a religious man, but he hoped to god that his gang would be alright without him, accepting that these were his last moments. he was practically on death's door.

all those days, all those days waiting for dutch to come and rescue him. to help him out, to save him like he always would say in his speeches... arthur's hopes of being rescued were dying each day as no one helped him. he was left. no dutch. no john. no hosea. no one. nobody came. and arthur held onto that as a grudge.

dutch van der linde was a leech. a snake. nothing but a parasite that infected people with his sickening charm of manipulation and other things used to get his own gain. he was one cunning man. and god, did he know it. he prided his self in that. he was proud of what he did, morally good or not.

days later, arthur woke up. his eyes adjusting to the sun as it was shining over what he didn't know was hanging dog ranch. he proped himself with a groan as he felt all the bruises and slight pain, which was... weird. he thought he'd be in a worse state, almost dead, even. “boss, he's awake.” he heard from an irish man.

arthur then knew where he was instantly, with the o'driscolls. goddamn. and then there he stood, colm o'driscoll. “looks like someone ain't such a showpony no more.” he says with a chuckle from him, arthur gave a slight nod as a greeting. “ain't surprisin' that dutch left ya to rot.” which earned a slight eyeroll from arthur. because why would he ever listen to an o'driscoll?

and then it began. using such words of gaslight and deceit, colm was working his way on arthur. with his snake tomgue, he knew what he was doing. with a man with slight on show from his injuries, what would be better than to manipulate van der linde's most trusted man?? and with his intimidating size... he could be better. a weapon.

he could be an o'driscoll.

and arthur's attention was grabbed, colm knew that he was thinking about his words even if the intense gaze on arthur's face said different. so colm continued. “wouldn't leave my boys like that, especially if I knew they're almost dead.” he continued in that condescending tone of his. he knew what he was doing, and he was going to get what he wanted.

“clearly he dont appreciate the way we do... ye would fit right in here. wouldn't have some betray that big man ye are.” he added with a slight chuckle, knowing that arthur took his words in carefully. colm was feeding into arthur's self-esteem, his self-confidence, and his ego. and that's when colm realised that he was thinking. about himself, about the gang, about dutch. dutch goddamn van der linde.

and then something snapped in arthur.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

arthur was even worse. it was like he had no sense of morals left with how ruthless, merciless and selfish he was now. hes never been so... cruel now. he was greedy and vengeful, in his head thats who he needed to be. he was a weapon of mass rage.

that's who he was now. after the o'driscolls got into his head.

he didn't have any empathy once he and the o'driscolls had caught john marston, arthur's "brother". they planned to have john in a way to lure them into their demise, and it should be easy since mr marston was the new showpony ever since arthur "died." either way, the plan worked because john was here. “arthur!? yer alive? dutch said ya died back there, i-” “marston, i knew ye were stupid but not this stupid, dutch lied.” arthur snapped.

nothing could prepare arthur for the amount of seething anger and resentment once they saw mr van der linde came to save john. why didn't he do the same and save arthur?? why did he abandon arthur like he meant nothing??

the sight of them two erupted something in him. especially once dutch looked up at arthur. “son? i thought you-” “oh, don't give me that, dutch. y'knew i was alive this whole damn time.” arthur barked back, giving them both a stern glare. arthur. god only knows how resentful he felt. he didn't understand why dutch left him for dead. he needed help, he needed the saviour and guidance that dutch always gave him. and them, he didn't. he saw him like a wounded wolf and left him.

only then arthur realised that colm o'driscoll was right. john was the golden boy. always has been. always will be. growing up, dutch made wrthur that he was important, that he meant something to him. but clearly not anymore.

the moment that arthur morgan became arthur o'driscoll.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan #o'driscolls #colm o'driscoll #o'driscoll arthur #red dead redemption #rdr

[lyrakanefanatic]

PART THREE OF MY GRANDEST GAME CHARACTER PREDICTIONS!!

——————————————————————————

3: knox landry (tw, sexual assault)

• closest to in the game: brady daniels

• love interest: im not too sure but im just gonna hc that he gets a boyfriend/girlfriend outside of the game

• person they dislike the most in the game: lyra kane

• personality traits: hardworking, reliable, selfless, trustworthy, creative, strong, intelligent, and independent

• negative personality traits: cruel, destructive at times, irritable, petty, hesitant to trusting people, good at keeping others away, and is mean as a coping mechanism (💔)

HIS CHARACTER OVERALL HEADCANONS:

• he’s bisexual

• does boxing as a hobby, as well as art

• his father died when he was just a few months old and he has a step dad and mom

• was sexually assaulted when he was 12 by his uncle 3 separate times. even now, he can still feel the ghosts of his uncles hands on him. 💔

• has trouble sleeping most nights because he wakes up from the memory of being touched

• he pushes others away because of it too. he’s never really had a lot of friends since the incident or could never keep a lot because he kept pushing them away and being mean as a coping mechanism

• he’s 5’10 and 23 years old with hair that looks black but is actually really dark brown, and hazel eyes

• is very harsh on himself with his art but can draw literally anyone or anything at any given time. he’s defo one of those people who can, in fact, draw zendaya (iykyk)

• tells everyone that his favourite artist is arctic monkeys, when in reality it’s laufey 💀

• he has a twin sister who is older by like 2 minutes but he’s always acted like the older brother

• very attractive and has a crazy good jawline (and an eyebrow slitttt)

• he has an irish accent that’s not too strong, but when he’s anxious or pissed out of his mind you can’t understand a word that’s coming out of his mouth

• the reason why his accent is more watered down is because he moved from ireland to texas with his mom, sister, and stepdad after the incident to avoid his family who gaslit him into believing that his uncle didn’t sa him

• although it’s been hard, his family has always been supportive, and immediately fought for him once they found out about his uncle touching him

HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH THE OTHER CONTESTANTS:

• lyra kane: lyra and knox are both people who can be cold and stubborn, so because of that they didn’t mix well when they first met. knox immediately saw her as an enemy and lyra was returning the favour. it wasn’t until hawthorne chutes and ladders where they really started seeing each other as people instead of just contestants that they were supposed to beat in the game. once they do get over their rivalry though, they end up being best friends and knox sees lyra as a little sister. he teaches her more efficient ways to fight and punch, and she helps the old grandpa with tech and computers. 💀 they’re very close and when grayson and her started dating, knox immediately went out of his way to piss him off just to be petty. 😪

• odette morales: knox honestly sees odette and lyra as a package deal, so whenever he hangs out with odette he has to bring along lyra too. at first odette was kind of unsure of knox because of how lyra felt towards him, but once they started warming up to each other knox and her became better friends. he loves how kind and soft spoken she is, and wishes that he was like that instead of being so “cold hearted” and “destructive” 💔 he defo taught her how to box too, (as she had no idea how to) and now she’s pretty good at it.

• brady daniels: brady and him became close immediately, and although knox would never and will never tell him, he had the teensiest crush on him when he came to the island. but once that crush dissolved into friendship and he got over it, they have the best banter and are constantly getting into dumb arguments over dumb things. although bradys way taller, knox can fight way better and has kicked his ass before.

• rohan: rohans british, so naturally, knox doesn’t like him. JKJK, but fr they get into so many arguments about the whole “british vs irish” thing, and their banter is a lot like michelle and james’ banter from derry girls. (if you’ve watched it, you know) knox sees him as a dumb cocky little brother, and finds his crush on savannah so cute. also, they definitely box together ALL. THE. TIME. like you CAN’T convince me otherwise.

• savannnah grayson: he was definitely cold to her once he found out about the whole “game master being her brother” thing, and held it against her. but he never tried to outright accuse her because he knew she was young and he was not about to start beefing with an 18 year old girl when he’s 5 years older 💀💀 they do warm up to each other eventually though, and although they don’t hang out a lot, when they do they have a lot of meaningful talks. also, like everybody else, he taught her how to box because “she should know how to defend herself in a situation where she’d need to”. (now savannah threatens grayson with the fact that she can fight whenever he pisses her off)

• gigi grayson: even though knox didn’t really trust her at first because of the same reason he didn’t like savannah (*cough cough* because she’s a nepo baby *cough cough* who said that?) he never tried to show it because he loves how bubbly and cheerful she is and doesn’t want to do anything to turn her sour. (because he knows what that’s like and wants to protect her) he definitely doesn’t like mattias and thinks he’s not good enough for her though 💀 gigi loves to paint with him even though her paintings are… not that great, and his are van gogh level good because they have a really good time. <3

——————————————————————————

THATS ALL!! 💗💗

i just KNOW knox is gonna be one of my favs <3

ALSO, I WAS EDITING THIS LAST NIGHT AND I FELL ASLEEP RIGHT AFTER I PUT MY PHONE DOWN, AND BECAUSE THE GRANDEST GAME WAS THE LAST THING I THOUGHT ABOUT, I DREAMT ABOUT IT 💀💀

BASICALLY I GOT A COPY REALLY EARLY (THE FAIRYLOOT VERSION) AND I DIDNT READ THE BOOK FOR SOME REASON, INSTEAD I WENT TO GO WATCH THE MOVIE??? EVERYBODY WAS JUST ON THE BEACH AND THEN I WAS LIKE, “man, i can’t wait to see lyra” AND THEN I WOKE UP 💀💀💀

i didnt get to see any of the contestants tho because they hadn’t arrived yet 😓 (i think??? i actually don’t know why they weren’t there)

#IT WAS SUCH A WEIRD DREAM LMFAOOO #“your dreams have meanings!’’ my dreams: #ANYWAYS WATCH KNOX BE THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF MY PREDICTION 💀💀💀 #knox landry #odette morales #brady daniels #lyra kane #rohan the brothers hawthorne #savannah grayson #gigi grayson #grayson hawthorne #the grandest game #the grandest game vault #the brothers hawthorne #the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #libby grambs #phone girl #maxine liu

[songbirdseung]

you flew right by, love / park sunghoon

synopsis: the only love you've ever known, says goodbye

pairing: sunghoon x reader

warnings: heartbreak, death, grief, angst, sorry in advance, i cried too

wc: 1.3k

The sky is a heavy gray, the kind that promises rain but never quite delivers, leaving the air thick and suffocating. You stand amidst a sea of black, the color of mourning, as the world seems to have lost its vibrancy. The sun is absent, hidden behind the oppressive clouds, as if it, too, is in mourning.

You find yourself at the edge of the crowd, your feet rooted to the ground, unable to move. The smell of damp earth fills your nostrils as you grip the single white lily in your hand, its petals trembling with the same grief that shakes your core. Each step you take towards the casket feels like walking through quicksand, pulling you further into despair.

As you reach the casket, you pause, looking down at Sunghoon's peaceful face. His eyes are closed, a stark contrast to the lively spark you had come to love. Tears blur your vision, spilling over and tracing silent paths down your cheeks. You wonder, what if it were you instead? What if you could trade places and lie in that wooden box, so he could continue living?

"I'd give anything to be in there instead of you," you whisper, your voice breaking. The lily slips from your fingers, landing softly on the polished wood.

A flashback hits you with the force of a tidal wave, pulling you back to a time when Sunghoon's arms wrapped around you on the couch, his warmth seeping into your bones. You can almost hear his laughter, feel the vibration of his chest as he speaks.

"I want to grow old with you," he had said, his voice a soothing melody. "We'll have a little house with a garden, and maybe a dog. We'll sit on the porch and watch the sunset every evening."

You had snuggled closer, your heart swelling with love and the promise of forever. "I can't wait for that," you had replied, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. "Growing old with you sounds perfect."

The memory fades, and you're jolted back to the present, to the harsh reality of the funeral. The first clumps of dirt hit the casket with a dull thud, and you turn away, unable to bear the sound. It feels like each impact is driving a nail deeper into your heart. People around you try to offer comfort—soft words, gentle touches—but it all feels distant, unreal. All you can think about is the life stolen from you, the future that will never be.

"Why did you have to leave?" you mutter under your breath, anger and sorrow intertwining. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Another flashback overtakes you, a moment of pure happiness. You and Sunghoon are at the beach, the sun setting behind you, casting everything in a golden glow. He's chasing you through the surf, laughter bubbling up from both of you as the waves lap at your ankles. When he catches you, he lifts you up and spins you around, his joy infectious.

"Gotcha!" he exclaims, pulling you close for a kiss. "I love you more than anything, YN."

"I love you too, Sunghoon," you had replied, your heart bursting with happiness. "Forever and always."

The memory is like a dagger, a reminder of what you've lost. The sound of dirt hitting the casket continues, a cruel punctuation to your pain. You close your eyes, wishing you could hold onto those memories forever, wishing you could bring Sunghoon back, if only for a moment.

As the funeral comes to a close, you feel a hollow emptiness settle in your chest. The crowd begins to disperse, but you remain by the grave, your heart unwilling to let go. You take a deep breath, trying to summon the strength to move forward, knowing that Sunghoon would want you to find a way to live, even without him.

But for now, all you can do is grieve, and remember the love that was taken too soon.

The days that follow are a blur, filled with an endless parade of condolences and casseroles. Your apartment feels emptier than ever, every corner haunted by memories of Sunghoon. His things are everywhere—his favorite mug on the kitchen counter, the book he was reading on the nightstand, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air. Each object is a reminder of the life you were supposed to share.

You find yourself retreating into your mind, clinging to memories like a lifeline. It's in one of these moments, late at night, when you find yourself on the couch, clutching a pillow to your chest. The silence is deafening, and you close your eyes, willing a memory to take you away from the pain.

A new flashback emerges, vivid and clear. You're in your kitchen, and Sunghoon is attempting to cook dinner. He's wearing an apron that reads "Kiss the Cook," and you can't help but laugh at how serious he looks, concentrating on the recipe in front of him.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" you tease, leaning against the counter.

He looks up with a mock-offended expression. "Of course I do! I'm a master chef in disguise."

You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "Oh really? Prove it."

With a playful grin, he steps closer, pulling you into his arms. "How about I start with dessert?" he murmurs, before kissing you deeply.

The memory brings a bittersweet smile to your lips, but it's quickly overshadowed by the crushing reality of his absence. You open your eyes, the darkness of your apartment pressing in on you. The weight of your grief feels unbearable, a constant ache that doesn't seem to lessen.

One evening, unable to stand the quiet any longer, you decide to visit a nearby park, a place where you and Sunghoon spent many happy afternoons. The park is almost empty, the chill of the evening keeping most people indoors. You find the bench where you used to sit together, overlooking a small pond.

As you sit there, staring at the water, you hear footsteps approaching. You turn to see an elderly woman with kind eyes and a gentle smile. She sits down beside you, not saying a word for a long time. Finally, she speaks.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" she says softly.

You nod, unable to find your voice.

"I lost my husband many years ago," she continues, her voice filled with a quiet strength. "The pain never really goes away, but you learn to carry it. You find ways to honor their memory and keep them alive in your heart."

Her words resonate with you, and for the first time in days, you feel a small spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you can find a way to live with the pain. To remember Sunghoon not with overwhelming sorrow, but with the love and joy he brought into your life.

As the days turn into weeks, you begin to take small steps forward. You start journaling, writing letters to Sunghoon, pouring out your thoughts and feelings onto the pages. It becomes a way to feel connected to him, to keep his memory alive. You also reach out to friends and family, allowing them to support you, to share their own memories of Sunghoon.

One day, as you're sorting through Sunghoon's things, you come across a small, wrapped package with your name on it. Your hands tremble as you open it, revealing a beautiful locket inside. There's a note in Sunghoon's handwriting:

"YN, I saw this and thought of you. I hope it brings you as much joy as you bring me every day. Love, Sunghoon."

Tears stream down your face as you clasp the locket around your neck, feeling a sense of peace for the first time in a long while. Sunghoon's love is still with you, a guiding light in the darkness.

As you move forward, you hold onto the memories, the love, and the lessons Sunghoon taught you. Life without him is not what you had planned, but you find strength in knowing that he will always be a part of you, living on in your heart and in the life you continue to build.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #engene #enha #enhypen x reader #sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon au #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon x reader

[akazuki7]

Talk To Me

Gojo Satoru x Therapy

Contents: satoru being stupid, reader is a therapist, reader is sugurus sister, didn't adress it that much because my hands hurt and I'm lazy, mention of character death, I honestly don't think this is very romantic probably more platonic, I hate this actually for some reason, this is the longest shit I've written in a while

Note: Satoru doesn't know reader is sugurus sister because she has a different last name, and while she was studying at the same school suguru never knew he had an older sister reader knew she has a younger brother but she never approached him or said anything to him what she regrets the most

And do not attack me yall I don't know how therapy works okay? I've never been there even tho some people tell me I should go to therapy

"Suguru geto is dead."

Your hand froze, the pen you were holding punched a jagged hole through the paper, which became surrounded by a spreading pool of ink. You stared blankly at the damaged sheet, the room falling silent around you in a suffocating hush.

Your gaze slowly met the somber expression of the man seated across from you. "Why are you telling me this, Principal Yaga?" you asked, your voice laced with a veneer of mournful softness.

The man shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "He was your younger brother-"

"No," you interjected firmly, cutting him off. "I do not know such a man, so please do not speak of him to me here." The harshness in your tone was palpable as you released your grip on the pen, crumpling the ruined paper into an uneven ball and tossing it into the nearby wastebasket.

"You were always a terrible liar, you know," Yaga remarked, reaching a hand out to gently wipe the tears that had carved burning paths down your cheeks. "I would have believed you if your eyes weren't betraying so much grief."

"I'm not crying because of him," you protested desperately, though your futile attempts to stem the flow of tears proved fruitless.

"Child..." Yaga murmured, pulling you from your seat and enveloping you in a comforting embrace. You clung to him tightly, burying your face into the reassuring solidity of his chest as you surrendered to your sorrowful outpouring.

After some time, you finally managed to regain your composure. Yaga handed you a stack of files, and your eyes immediately fell upon a photograph of a white-haired man.

"There is someone I need you to help," the dark-haired man began. "Satoru Gojo." You uttered the name of the renowned child prodigy, staring at Yaga with a look of confusion.

"Satoru and Suguru were close friends, with a deep connection to one another..." Yaga trailed off, his expression heavy with concern. "The one who ended up killing Suguru... was Satoru himself. And he is not in a good mental state."

"I know I'm asking a great deal of you, to help the person who took your brother's life, but-"

"I'll help him," you interrupted, offering Yaga a weak, but resolute smile.

The man's eyes widened with surprise, but his gaze remained clouded with worry. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

You simply nodded in response, steeling your resolve to assist the one who had taken your beloved sibling from you.

___________________________________________

It's absolutely preposterous. No, wait - it's downright hilarious. Satoru Gojo, of all people, being forced into therapy? What a cruel twist of fate. He never wanted this, never needed this. Yet, for some unfathomable reason, he's been strongarmed into it, all thanks to Principal Yaga's meddling.

Surely, this has to be some sort of twisted joke. But alas, he has no choice in the matter. It's either submit to this ludicrous therapy session or risk losing his teaching position - a job he cherishes, as it allows him to continue molding his students, pushing them to heights greater than even his own.

And so, here he sits, in this cozy little room, across from a woman armed with a pad and pen, scrutinizing him through his thick black shades. How is he, a sorcerer tasked with the mastery of curses, supposed to confide in this simple human about the intricacies of his life? She likely doesn't even have the faintest idea what "cursed energy" is, let alone the trials and tribulations he faces on a daily basis.

But he can't ignore the neatly maintained amount of cursed energy emerging from her.

Of course, he has no intention of revealing anything of substance. If he so much as mentions the nature of his work, she'd probably have him committed to a mental institution faster than he can blink.

"So what brings you here today, Mr. Gojo?" the woman asks, her voice dripping with false sweetness, a saccharine smile plastered across her face.

Satoru huffs heavily, the irritation seeping into his tone. "I'm not here by choice. Principal Yaga forced me to come here."

"I know," she responds, and Gojo raises a brow, surprised by her candor. "And I can see that this is your first time here."

"I'm asking you why do you think you're here," the therapist probes, her brows furrowing as Satoru satoru shifts in his seat, crossing his legs defiantly.

"Because I was forced to be here-" he begins, only to be swiftly interrupted.

"Why?" she presses, her tone infuriatingly calm and measured.

Satoru falls silent, staring at her blankly, his irritation palpable. This is supposed to be his time to vent, and yet she keeps interjecting, undermining his attempts at explanation. He already finds her immensely grating.

"Mr. Gojo?" the therapist gingerly tilts her head, awaiting his answer. Satoru sighs heavily, the frustration clear in his voice.

"Because Principal Yaga thinks I'm in desperate need of therapy," he spits through gritted teeth, the mere recollection of that argument making his blood boil.

"What about you? What do you think?" she probes further, her expression maddeningly serene.

"That all of this is stupid. I'm not in need of therapy - I'm perfectly fucking fine," satoru retorts, turning his head away to gaze out the window, where the rain has now begun to fall. He's the strongest sorcerer, for God's sake - he doesn't require aid from anyone.

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't need it," she calmly asserts, and satoru can feel his nails digging into the flesh of his biceps through his clothes, crescent-shaped indentations surely imprinting his skin.

His gaze snaps back to her, a scowl etched upon his features. "The hell you mean?" he spits, his tone dripping with venom. "I just told you I was forced to be here. Why the hell don't you understand that?"

"If you were actually fine, Mr. Gojo, you wouldn't be here," the therapist repeats, her saccharine smile infuriating him to no end.

"Since it's your first time here, I'll explain to you how therapy works-" the therapist begins, only to be swiftly cut off by satoru's acerbic retort.

"I know how it works. I spill my guts out to you, you give me some useless advice, write some bullshit on your pad, diagnose that I'm somehow mentally ill - blah, blah, blah," he interjects mockingly, rolling his eyes with palpable annoyance.

The therapist pauses, staring at him for a moment before chuckling softly. "Therapists aren't actually supposed to give advice, as we know that it won't help our clients in any meaningful way or may even make them feel worse. So we avoid doing that. Rather than giving you advice, we guide you to see how your feelings, thoughts, choices, and actions affect one another. And we teach you about emotions, thoughts, coping skills, facing fears, and more."

Satoru scoffs in return, unimpressed. It doesn't matter to him what her job description entails. How the hell is he supposed to feel comfortable when he's paying a person to listen to him? She doesn't genuinely want to hear his problems (not that he has any, of course). And who knows, she'll probably gossip about the shit he says with her friends.

"Now, how about you start telling me about your day?" she inquires, switching the subject, having likely noticed his lingering irritation. Satoru scoffs, as though that were a mind-numbingly dull question.

"My day? Same as any other day," Satoru shrugs. "What do you want to know? The weather? I took a very interesting dump in the morning? Got myself some food, did whatever the hell teachers do - the usual."

The therapist sighs, seemingly ready to give up on that line of questioning, or perhaps regretting having asked it in the first place. Even so, she jots something down on her pad, and Satoru isn't sure if what he said was actually so worthy of being noted.

"Do you seriously have to take notes? What was so important in my answer to write down?" he questions, his tone mocking.

"Everything you say is important, Mr. Gojo," she replies with a hum.

"Really? Is it really that important that I took a dump this morning?" Satoru laughs derisively. Therapy is a joke, as far as he's concerned.

The therapist looks at him with those eerily calm eyes once more, her irritatingly artificial smile still plastered on her face. "You're a teacher - what did you teach your students today?"

What.

"Aren't you supposed to ask me what subjects I teach?" Satoru looked at her suspiciously, wondering if Yaga had somehow explained to her that he is a sorcerer.

"You're a jujutsu sorcerer. There's no need for me to ask what subjects you teach," she replied calmly.

Satoru leaned in, his elbow resting on his thigh as he held his chin in his palm. "You seem to know a lot about me, doc. Just who are you exactly?" A grin appeared on his face, as he considered the possibility that she might also be a sorcerer like him. Outside of the jujutsu domain, humans don't typically know who Gojo Satoru is.

"I'm your therapist," she simply replied, and his brow twitched slightly. "You know what I'm asking, miss."

"What do you think?" She tilted her head, smiling at him. Of course, she would turn the question back to him - it always has to be about his feelings and thoughts in therapy.

"You are a sorceress," he muttered, no longer doubting the amount of cursed energy he felt in the room. She must be a skilled sorceress, able to maintain her cursed energy at a small, unnoticed level surrounding her.

But why would Principal Yaga assign a sorceress to him? Was this some kind of trick? The woman before him is probably not even a real therapist. Still, he's never heard of her name before - perhaps she's a sorceress from another nation?

"Close. I was a sorceress," she revealed.

Satoru's brow furrowed. Why did she quit? And why did she become a therapist? Just who is she exactly?

"Now, why don't we get back on track?" she inquired, smoothly switching the subject and ending his train of thought.

The rest of the session was simply her attempting to get to know him better, or rather, analyze him. However, satoru did not give her that opportunity. Why should he? Yaga had only instructed him to attend therapy, not that it had to be effective. Honestly, satoru did not particularly care about this endeavor.

Why should he divulge information about himself to someone he barely even knows? Not to mention, she is being paid to listen to him - she is not doing this out of her own volition or good-hearted intentions.

She likely does not truly care about his problems (not that he has any, in his opinion). So why should his feelings and thoughts matter to her? She is merely performing her job, nothing more, nothing less.

Satoru has no intention of pouring his heart out to a complete stranger he knows little about. He understands that therapy is meant to provide him with a safe space to be vulnerable and open about everything. But he does not feel comfortable in this room.

___________________________________________

Satoru sighs, leaning his cheek against his fist as he relaxes in the chair in front of her.

"You worry too much," he says casually. "Why don't we ever talk about your feelings? We only ever talk about me."

Satoru is aware that she only wants the best for him. He simply does not care. He is here because it is mandatory, not because he wants to be. He does not believe he needs therapy, despite her claims otherwise. As his therapist, of course she would tell him he requires this treatment.

It has been a month since their therapy sessions began, and satoru has not been the least bit cooperative. The only aspect he has enjoyed is the freedom to freely criticize the higher-ups without anyone chastising him or telling him it is inappropriate.

She would always listen intently to every word that came out of his mouth, diligently noting things down in her little pad. Honestly, not even his own students gave him the same level of attention that she bestowed upon him. He couldn't help but appreciate the fact that his feelings mattered in this space, that what he said truly held significance. He liked that. And he couldn't deny that he enjoyed her undivided attention on him.

"Because I'm your therapist, and I'm supposed to listen to you. Not the other way around." She sighed softly, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "How many times do we have to go through this conversation?" She looked utterly exhausted, and he almost felt a tinge of guilt for making this so difficult for her. Keyword: almost.

He knew that she was simply doing her job. But he didn't care - he would make her tired of him until she gave up on him.

Yet, at the same time, the thought of her giving up on him left a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn't really want that.

He shrugged, smirking. "As many times as you want to," he said, with his ever-present sense of humor. "I can keep dodging questions all day, if you like. I'm perfectly fine just existing in this room while you try to wrangle me into being vulnerable."

"However, I can't say the same about you, doctor." He taunted.

"I am not trying to make you vulnerable, I'm trying to help you understand your feelings and maybe find solutions for your problems, Mr. Gojo," she said calmly, as she crossed her legs and leaned back into her chair.

Satoru rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," he said, waving his hand dismissively as he slumped against the back of his chair. "Help me understand my problems. Solve them. Figure out why I am the way I am. Heard it all before."

He knew he had to be here, in therapy, every week. However, that didn't mean he had to be vulnerable or cooperate with all this touchy-feely stuff. He simply didn't like that kind of thing.

"What makes you the happiest, Mr. Gojo?" She began asking him again. Seriously, how many questions did she prepare for him every time? He couldn't deny that he didn't dislike the fact that she worked so hard, just for him.

Hm.

It was a question he had genuinely considered. What made him the happiest?

"Fighting," he said after a pause. He gave a casual shrug. "I enjoy fights. They're fun. And when they get hard, it makes me want to try even harder. So... I guess that's what makes me the happiest - winning a difficult fight."

"The rush of adrenaline makes me feel... I don't know, excited? You know," he muttered, finding it somewhat challenging to articulate.

She scribbled some more notes in her pad. "Is there any fight that made you especially happy?" she then asked, her gaze shifting back to him from her pad.

"Mhm," he hummed, a small smirk forming on his face. This was a fun question for him. "Well... there was the time I got to fight a special grade," he said, the smile widening as he recalled the memory. "And that time I beat Toji. That's a really good memory."

"I would've died. But he didn't use a cursed tool, and didn't cut my head off," he chuckled, as if it were something to be happy about. "You should've seen the look on his face when he saw me, the one he supposedly killed, still alive and kicking."

"But I can't say I'm not grateful to him. Because I got to finally learn how reverse cursed technique works," he said with a wide grin on his face, and she followed suit by taking more notes in her pad.

He noticed her actions and stared at her with an exaggerated eyebrow raise. "Go ahead, make your notes about me being a sadist and liking to inflict pain or something. Then go back and analyze it with all your other therapist friends."

"I already said this before, whatever happens in this room will stay in this room, Mr. Gojo," she replied. "So be not afraid to spill anything to me."

"Yeah, yeah," he smirked, amused.

"What's my diagnosis, doc?" He tilted his head, staring at her as she lifted her head up from her pad to meet his gaze. "I'm a very bad person, don't you think? I love the pain I inflict on curses, I love the way they fear me, the fear in their eyes makes me feel so fucking excited," he laughed loudly.

"And when their blood taints my skin and clothes, it's such a disgusting texture yet it makes me want to be covered more with their blood. It feels so fucking amazing," he stared at her, awaiting a visible reaction, but he was met with nothing but an empty smile and empty eyes.

He hates this. He hates her. She's just an empty shell.

"You're just as crazy as I am, doc. Aren't ya?"

___________________________________________

But before she could say anything, the session had already ended, and Satoru was quick on his feet to get out of there.

Satoru rolls his eyes at her words and sighs. He leans back into the chair and spreads his legs, getting comfortable.

"This is such a pain," he mutters. "Do we really have to talk today? There's nothing to discuss. I'm peachy keen."

"Mr. Gojo, I need you to be a little more cooperative," she uttered gently.

"Do you, now?" Satoru's tone was dry, like sandpaper, his expression unchanging. He tilted his head slightly to the side. He could tell she was running out of patience, but that didn't stop him from being intentionally difficult. In fact, it made it more fun for him. "Yes, it's for your own good."

Satoru chuckles a little bit. "Aaaand here's the old 'it's for your own good' trope again, huh?" He shook his head, feigning mock disappointment. "I thought we were done with that by now, honestly."

"I do think that you really need this," she said seriously. "Look, Mr. Gojo, you might show your playful and cheerful side to everyone around you, but that is only a way to make them feel safe around you. I don't know what it's like to be the strongest, but I know that it can get pretty lonely standing on your own on top."

"You make it sound like I'm unhappy or something," he replied, shaking his head again. "Is it really so crazy for you to think that I'm perfectly fine being by myself? That I prefer being alone?" A small smile appeared on his face again. "I'm not lonely, doctor. I get more attention than I want, actually."

"That's not it," she sighed, shaking her head. "I know you have friends, you're a pretty talkative person and also a person who's approachable." She gave him a small smile. "Still, being surrounded by people doesn't mean that you feel the warmth of comfort. You keep them around you but still hold a certain distance between you and them that you never let them cross. You never let people get too close to you, which is a problem because you're isolating yourself from the world even if you think you're doing the opposite."

His small smile faded, and he rolled his eyes as he began to look agitated. He sat up, leaning forward towards her, his elbows on his knees. "What's with the armchair psychology? Where are you even getting all of this? You don't know me. You can't just assume these kinds of things based on just a few therapy sessions."

"I'm sorry if this is making you uncomfortable, and please do correct me if I'm wrong. But there are a lot of people who feel lonely even while being surrounded by people," she sighed.

"Regrettably, I struggle to forge meaningful connections with others," he murmured, running his fingers through his hair. "They fail to comprehend me. They do not know the true me. They would be unable to accept me as I truly am, so I ceased exerting the effort. I stopped attempting to force something that was simply never going to materialize. Therefore, I shall keep everyone at a distance, for that is what they deserve. I do not grapple with the kinds of issues you presume I do, so desist in your efforts to analyze me."

She replied softly, "They are unaware of your authentic self because that is the outcome you desire, Mr. Gojo. If you are unwilling to be truthful about your personality and emotions with another individual, can you genuinely call that a connection? A relationship? It is all constructed upon walls of deception, intended to keep them at bay."

Satoru's response was tinged with bitterness. "So you are asserting that the fault lies with me for people's rejection, correct?" He leaned forward, his arms crossed defensively over his knees. A sardonic smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I have made attempts to be honest with others. I have exerted the effort before, yet all I ever received in return was judgment and fear. I shall not place myself in that position again."

"The fault does not lie with you that they do not like you. However, the fault lies with you in presenting a false persona to them daily. Allow me to pose a question - from all the individuals surrounding you, can you name a single person who truly knows you?" she inquired.

Satoru's expression darkened at her words, the façade he maintained for others striking a chord. How could she discern this about him? It irritated him, albeit slightly. His gaze hardened with annoyance.

"No," he admitted in defeat. "I am surrounded by those I call friends, yet not a single soul among them truly knows me."

"Why not try opening up to them?" she suggested. "I will not ask you to confide in me, for I understand you do not particularly enjoy conversing with me, and that is perfectly acceptable. However, I am certain that at least one person would be willing to listen. Believe it or not, if they truly care for you, they will accept you with all your vulnerabilities and flaws."

A scoff escaped his lips at her proposal. "I'd rather not," he stated firmly. There was a sense of finality in his tone, and he was resolute in his decision. He had no desire to open up to anyone. That struck him as a waste of time.

"Even were I to open up to someone, there is a zero percent chance they would genuinely accept me for who I am. It is merely wishful thinking on your part, and you know it," he added.

"I would be truly delighted if you felt inclined to open up, Mr. Gojo. I sincerely implore you to believe me when I say I am fully attentive and receptive to whatever you wish to share," she sighed.

"Yeah, yeah..." he responded dismissively.

Satoru maintained his smirk, genuinely impressed by her unwavering conviction. He leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin pensively. "Why are you being so uncharacteristically kind?" he inquired. "Most therapists I've encountered are arrogant, know-it-all types. You, on the other hand, seem far too amiable. I'm not entirely convinced."

His expression suddenly hardened as he leaned forward, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "You're deceiving me," he declared. "You must have some ulterior motive. Therapists do not pose those ostensibly benevolent questions out of pure kindness. You must be attempting to extract something from me - perhaps a salacious story to sell to the press, or you may have a reporter willing to pay handsomely for such information. Or, it could be that you are merely trying to bolster your own image, and I am the unfortunate individual you intend to 'utilize.' Well, let me inform you of something, my dear."

He seized the arms of her chair, pulling it forcefully towards him until their faces were mere inches apart. Satoru could hear the subtle hitch in her breath, a sign of her surprise at his sudden, assertive action. Maintaining unwavering eye contact, he leaned in closer, a smirk playing on his lips.

"You should understand," he whispered, "that I am no stranger to individuals who believe they have me all figured out. So no matter how genuine you may seem, my dear, I am not so easily cracked." With that, he reclined back in his chair, releasing his grip on her seat. "You'll have to try something else."

For a moment, she remained silent, before letting out a soft sigh and offering him a gentle smile. "Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Gojo." Her words, rather than indignant, carried a sense of empathy.

Satoru's eyes widened in surprise. He had expected her to refute his accusations, to insist that she harbored no ulterior motives. But instead, she had responded with gratitude for his candor.

He stared at her, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her facade of kindness to crumble. Yet, it never did. This woman, it seemed, was genuine in her compassion.

"If you feel uncomfortable in my presence, please do not hesitate to request a different therapist," she suggested, her tone measured and understanding. "I would be more than happy to make the necessary arrangements."

Satoru's expression darkened at her offer. "No," he said, his voice harsher than he had intended. He paused, taking a breath to regain his composure. "No, I want you," he stated firmly. "I'm cooperating, aren't I? If I wanted someone else, I would have requested a change long ago."

Satoru took a deep breath, his expression softening slightly at her gentle suggestion.

"You were more cooperative than before. And I appreciate that," she said, offering him a warm smile.

Satoru blinked in surprise. He had not expected such a genuine acknowledgment of his progress.

"So... what?" he asked, tilting his head as he considered her words. "You're saying you're proud of me?"

"I am. You're doing great," she hummed softly.

To both her and his own surprise, Satoru suddenly burst out laughing – a loud, unrestrained sound that filled the small space as he leaned back in his chair, clutching his stomach in an attempt to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he managed after a moment, taking a deep breath as he looked at her. "That... that just took me by surprise."

"No, please don't apologize," she quickly reassured him. "I must say, this is the most expressive I've seen you in this room." She chuckled lightly.

Satoru couldn't deny the truth in her words. His laughter finally subsiding, he smirked, crossing his arms. "Expressive? I guess if you count 'laughing like a maniac' as being expressive, I can agree."

He paused, a touch of amusement still in his tone. "I guess I'm improving, if I'm entertaining you."

"So, got something else to ask me, doc?" he inquired, a hint of challenge in his voice.

"Tell me, do you know who you are, Mr. Gojo?" she asked, her gaze steady and her tone sincere.

Satoru's features twisted into an expression of annoyance at the question. "Of course I know who I am," he retorted, the defensiveness evident in his tone. "What is this, a therapy session?"

"I'm not asking you about the position you've been forced into, and definitely not the personality made up," she said, shaking her head. "I'm asking you – do you really know who you are?"

He let out a dry laugh, the irritation seeping through. "Who I really am? What kind of question is that? Are you seriously going to ask me to define my entire existence right now? Are you expecting me to have some groundbreaking revelation or something? Because I hate to break it to you, doctor, but I'm tired of all this self-reflecting nonsense."

"Tell me the first thing that comes to mind when you think about yourself," she sighed, her patience unwavering.

Satoru tilted his head back with a sigh, closing his eyes. He was doing this not because he genuinely wanted to, but to get her off his back.

After a few moments of contemplation, he responded, "The strongest. I'm unreachable, untouchable."

"If you ask someone else the same question," she trailed off, "what's the first thing that comes to mind when they think of Gojo Satoru? They'll reply with the same thing. But is it really what you want?"

He opened his eyes, looking at her with a furrowed brow. "What I want?" he said, his voice filled with disbelief. "What I want is for you to not ask me weird questions that have no point or answer. I'm perfectly fine with being unreachable and untouchable. That's how I's always been. It's the natural order of things."

"Is strength really what defines you?" she asked. He raised a brow. "What's your point?"

"Do you know who you are?"

"Tell me, will you be Gojo Satoru without your powers?"

This question - it struck a chord within him. He remembers the day Suguru left, and the question that had remained unanswered until now. He had chosen to ignore it, but now it was haunting him once more.

Without his powers? His powers had been such a central focus in his life; he'd never truly considered his life without them. He... didn't even know who he would be. He was Gojo Satoru, the strongest of the strong. Take that away, and who was left?

He couldn't answer that. He simply remained silent, looking down at his hands, his grip tightening on his knees as he felt a sense of defensiveness.

But then, he stopped himself, his grip loosening as he looked at her, still frowning but with slightly less irritation in his expression.

"The therapy session is over," she said softly. "I want you to think about this question and try to find an answer to it."

Satoru let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness, the session was finally over. Despite being overjoyed that he no longer had to continue, his expression darkened a little, his brow furrowing in thought. He knew he would be thinking about this, whether he wanted to or not. She didn't even have to ask.

He stood up from the chair and left the room without giving her a last glance. He heard her say something about how he should take care of himself.

The drive back to the Gojo Clan's compound was spent in relative silence. Ijichi kept a watchful eye on Satoru, who remained uncharacteristically quiet. His thoughts were consumed by the question posed to him during the therapy session.

As the car pulled up to the gates of the compound, Satoru suddenly spoke. "Ijichi," he said, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty, "if I weren't the strongest, would I still be Gojo Satoru?"

Ijichi's gaze shifted to Satoru, surprise flickering across his features at the unexpected question.

"Of course," he replied without hesitation. "Your strength is a significant aspect of who you are, but it is not the essence of your identity." He watched Satoru for a moment, noting the expression on his face. "May I ask why you're asking this, Gojo?"

"Just something that I thought about," he said dismissively.

The rest of the evening was spent in a haze of thought for Satoru, tossing and turning in bed as he wrestled with his questions, doubts, and insecurities. They swirled in his mind, keeping him from finding respite. He had never felt so uncertain, so lost before. Who was he without the mantle of the strongest? What did he even have left?

He tried to shake off these thoughts, to push them to the back of his mind, but the questions persisted, gnawing at him like a relentless ache.

Gojo's thoughts returned to the question she had asked, "Do you know who you are?" He couldn't help but scowl at the recollection. He had taken offense to the question then, but now, alone with his thoughts in the quiet of the night, he found himself truly grappling with the magnitude of that question.

Who was he? This question had never posed a challenge before. He had always known who he was - the strongest. That had been his identity for as long as he could remember.

___________________________________________

The days that followed were restless, as her questions flooded his mind at all times - while teaching, on a mission, or at home. Her question occupied his mind constantly.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. There was no point in lying here, unable to sleep. He needed air.

Satoru grabbed his jacket and threw it over his shoulders before quietly making his way out of the room, the floor creaking under his feet in the otherwise silent compound.

As he walked, the echoes of his footsteps reverberating down the hallway, he couldn't shake off the persistent questions that had been plaguing his mind all night.

He reached the entrance of the compound and stepped outside into the cool night air. The stars twinkled above him, a blanket of sparkling lights against the inky sky. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the quiet and the solitude.

But even in the silence of the night, the questions stayed with him, refusing to give him peace. He found himself facing an identity crisis that gnawed at him like never before.

Satoru walked, the snow crunching beneath every step his feet took. He walked with no destination in mind, hoping that maybe the movement and the fresh air would help clear his mind. Yet, no matter how far he walked, he couldn't escape the questions that haunted him.

Suddenly, the thought struck him - perhaps he needed guidance. But who could he turn to? His mind flitted through the people in his life - Nanamin, Ieiri, Ijichi, but ultimately he dismissed each one. They would never understand what he was going through.

But the thought persisted. He couldn't shake off the idea of her help. She had already managed to get under his skin, planting this seed of doubt that had grown into this existential crisis. Perhaps she was exactly the person he needed right now.

Satoru clenched his fists, silently cursing to himself. He had always prided himself on being in control, but now, here he was, considering seeking help from the very person who had caused his turmoil in the first place.

But it was late at night, would she even help him if he called her right now? Would she help him without getting paid, without being in that stuffy room?

As the dial tone rang through the line, anxiety began to creep into his mind. What if she didn't answer? What if she hung up once she realized it was him? He had never called her outside of their sessions before. Why would she answer now?

After what felt like an eternity, the line clicked open, breaking the silence. Satoru's heart pounded in his chest. She had actually answered.

"Hello? How may I help you?" Her voice was sleepy and confused at the late call.

Satoru hesitated for a moment, the sound of her tired, confused voice sending prickles of guilt through him. Should he really be doing this? But he had already come this far; he couldn't back down now.

"It's me," he finally said, his voice low and a little apologetic. "Gojo Satoru. I - I need help."

"Mr. Gojo?" She was suddenly wide awake, she didn't expect him of all people to call. "Of course, where are you right now?"

"I'm... I'm outside," he replied, a hint of shame in his voice. He didn't know how to explain where he was or what he was doing out so late. "I was walking. But I can't stop thinking about that question you asked me in the session that day. And it's driving me insane. I - I need answers."

"Can you be more specific? I'm on my way— ah, shit!" She cursed as she hit her foot with something she wasn't able to see in the dark, she quickly put on her jacket and her scarf and went downstairs.

Gojo heard the clatter and curse from her end of the line, making him flinch slightly. He felt oddly guilty for waking her and even making her come out at this late hour.

"Be more specific?" he repeated, his irritation seeping into his voice. "Isn't it enough that you threw my whole world off-balance? Now you need more specifics...?" But his tone softened as he mumbled, "I guess it'd be better if you were here."

"No. Where are you right now exactly?" She asked, putting her shoes on and finally going outside as it had begun snowing. She quickly got into her car.

Gojo huffed out a sigh, glancing around to get his bearings, "I'm about three miles north of Jujutsu High."

He was still outside the compound, which meant he had walked a considerable distance in his thoughts. The snowflakes were slowly falling from the sky, each one descending gently to the ground. Gojo stood there, watching them fall, waiting for her to arrive and, hopefully, provide some clarity to his chaotic thoughts.

"Okay, stay where you are. I'll be there in 10 minutes." She said as she started driving. "Tell me how you've been feeling today?"

Satoru rolled his eyes slightly as he heard her questioning. This woman just didn't know when to quit. But he was here for an answer, so he might as well satisfy her with some small talk beforehand.

"I've been feeling lost," he admitted after a moment, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "Like everything I've ever known about myself has been turned upside down." He paused, a hint of resentment in his voice. "All because of what you said during the session."

"I see. It's good that you've thought about it, Mr. Gojo," she muttered softly.

"Is it?" he snapped. "Because right now, I feel like you've thrown my whole world off-balance. And for what? Because you wanted me to 'think about it'?" Satoru let out a bitter chuckle. "You're cruel, you know that? Or perhaps you just find pleasure in messing with my mind."

"A person needs to know themselves before trying to help themselves." She said. "You don't know who you are."

"And whose fault is that?" He muttered under his breath, his frustration growing. "I had this issue before, but I had somehow gotten rid of it. But now that you've planted this seed of doubt again, all I can think about is questioning who I am. It's maddening!"

He let out a bitter chuckle again. "Are you happy now, that I'm having this crisis?"

"Thank you for sharing your feelings." She said, as if trying to comfort him.

"Don't act so sweet, like you actually care about how I feel," he snapped. He was tired, irritated, and at the end of his rope. "You have no idea what this revelation is doing to me. My whole identity was built upon being the strongest. If you take that away, what's left of me? Who am I without that identity?"

She parked near Jujutsu High, getting outside of her car. "I do know what you're feeling right now, believe it or not I was in the same state that you were in." The snow crunched beneath her shoes as she started searching for him.

Satoru scoffed slightly, disbelief clear in his voice. "You know what it's like to have your entire identity shattered like this? Please. As if you could ever understand my struggle. I've dedicated my whole life, my very existence to be the strongest."

He shook his head, his expression a mix of bitterness and desperation. "But now, all I have are questions. Why am I here? Who am I, if not the strongest? It's like a never-ending abyss of uncertainty."

Here is the expanded version of the dialogue with more descriptive language:

She strode towards him, her eyes finally landing on his familiar form. "Turn around," she instructed gently.

Satoru's brow furrowed slightly, confusion etching across his features at her sudden command. After a moment's hesitation, he slowly pivoted to face her, his expression guarded, eyes wary.

"Where's your blindfold?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

He blinked, surprised by her question. In the whirlwind of emotions, he had nearly forgotten about the blindfold when he left the compound. But what did his lack of the customary covering have to do with anything?

"I don't have it," he responded slowly, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't want you to have a headache." She spoke softly, aware of his unique situation - the six eyes that made him perceive the world differently, often leading to painful migraines. Reaching up, she untied her own scarf. "Here, put this on."

Satoru stared at her, a mix of surprise and wariness evident in his gaze. He was unaccustomed to anyone showing him such genuine concern. She had already managed to see through his carefully crafted bravado and delve into the depths of his mind, and now she was extending this empathy? It was unsettling.

Still, he hesitated for a moment, torn between his reluctance and the throbbing ache pulsing at his temples. Finally, he reached out and gently took the scarf from her outstretched hand.

Satoru carefully wrapped the soft fabric around his eyes, tying it securely in place. It felt unusual, a stark contrast to his familiar blindfold, yet it offered a surprising sense of relief. The gentle pressure against his eyes was soothing, and the plush material was a comforting contrast to the chill of the night air.

He took a shallow breath, feeling a slight easing of the headache. He couldn't deny the scarf was helping, but it felt peculiar to be seen and cared for in this way.

"I want you to think about the moments in your life that didn't involve your powers," she said gently, her words a gentle nudge.

Satoru's expression darkened slightly at her prompting. His life had always revolved around his abilities, especially after discovering the rarity of his Six Eyes.

But the thought did pose an intriguing question. He had never truly considered the times when he wasn't constantly using or contemplating his powers.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice laced with a rare vulnerability. "What if there are no such moments?"

"Right now, right here. You aren't using your powers," she pointed out. "I'm sure there have been many instances in your life where your abilities weren't the primary focus - going out with your students, spending time with friends, studying, taking walks, even just everyday tasks like eating or running errands."

Satoru's frown deepened slightly as her words sank in. She was right. In that very moment, he wasn't relying on his Six Eyes to protect himself or perceive the world around him.

He couldn't deny the existence of those more mundane, seemingly insignificant moments in his life that didn't revolve around his powers. Simple joys like laughing with his students, or the solace he found in the company of his friends - times when his abilities weren't at the forefront of his mind.

"You're human, Mr. Gojo," she said, her tone gentle yet firm. "So, please, don't treat yourself as if you're not. Your power is a part of your identity, but is it really everything about you? That's the question you need to ask yourself."

Satoru's breath caught slightly as her words sank in. He had spent so many years defining himself by his power, by his role as the strongest, that it was difficult to imagine there was anything else to him.

But she was correct. His abilities were a part of him, but they did not encompass his entire existence. He was more than just his powers. He was a jujutsu sorcerer, a teacher, a friend, a human with emotions and a complex inner world.

"Now let me ask you again," she trailed off. "Do you know who you are, Mr. Gojo?"

Satoru exhaled slowly, feeling a sense of clarity wash over him. He understood now what she was trying to convey. His identity was not solely tied to his powers. There was so much more to him than that.

He lifted his head, the scarf over his eyes lifting slightly. His voice was quiet but sure.

"I am Satoru Gojo. Jujutsu sorcerer. Teacher. Friend. Human. And so much more."

"Exactly." She chuckled. "I'm proud of you."

Satoru felt a flicker of something unfamiliar stir within him at her words. He had never heard someone express pride in him, at least not on an emotional level. Usually, it was about his prowess or his accomplishments in battle.

He gave a small snort, trying to downplay how her praise affected him. "You make me sound like a child, Miss Therapist," he muttered, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oh..sorry, I didn't mean to come across that way," She quickly apologized.

Satoru waved her apology away with a dismissive hand gesture. "No, no. I wasn't offended or anything like that," he reassured her. "It's just..a little surprising, that's all."

He gave a small laugh, shaking his head slightly. "People usually praise me for being the strongest, not for being...human. But it's not a bad feeling, to know that someone is proud of me as a person. So thank you."

"No. Thank you for being truthful with me, Mr. Gojo," She hummed softly.

A small chuckle escaped Gojo's lips, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You know, I'm not sure why you're thanking me for doing the bare minimum," he teased. "Being truthful should be expected, shouldn't it?"

"I'm thanking you because I know how difficult it is to be truthful about yourself with someone and to be truthful with yourself," She chuckled.

Satoru's smile widened slightly. Her words carried a sincerity that resonated deeply within him.

"You're right," he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's not easy. In fact, it's damn near impossible sometimes." He took a deep breath, letting out a small sigh.

"Being honest with yourself, and with others...it requires a certain level of vulnerability and courage, and frankly, I'm not always very good at it."

Here is the response with more detailed and descriptive wording:

"That's perfectly understandable, you are only human and thus not impervious to imperfections. We all have our flaws, fears, and moments of fallibility at times. But that is what makes us distinctly human, what sets us apart from the animal kingdom. We have the capacity to learn and grow from our mistakes, to confront and overcome our fears, and to refine our shortcomings. " She spoke softly, her voice tinged with a gentle empathy. "You should never forget that you are just as human as anyone else—" Her words were suddenly interrupted by a delicate sneeze.

Satoru flinched slightly as the unexpected sound pierced the crisp, cold night air. On some level, he was somewhat relieved that her soothing words had been cut short, as they had started to hit a little too close to home for his comfort.

"Bless you," he murmured, his tone a curious blend of playful teasing and genuine concern. "It seems the frigid weather has gotten the better of you."

"Sorry about that...I'm just not terribly well-suited for cold climates," she admitted, rubbing her hands together in a futile attempt to generate warmth.

Satoru couldn't resist the temptation of a mischievous smirk. Here he had been feeling vulnerable and exposed, and now the tables had turned, with her appearing to be the one struggling against the biting chill.

"That's not something one usually hears from someone who was living in the northern regions," he teased, unable to resist the opportunity to poke a bit of fun. "I thought the hardy folk up there were practically immune to the cold."

"Well, you see, I wasn't actually born and raised in these parts, i just lived some years there." she chuckled.

"Ah, I see," satoru nodded, a playful glint sparkling in his eyes. "So you're not a true northerner. That certainly explains a lot."

He paused for a moment, a mischievous thought crossing his mind. "But you'll never truly adapt if you don't embrace the cold," he declared dramatically. "And what better way to do that than by engaging in a good old-fashioned snowball fight?"

Without warning, she hurled a tightly packed snowball directly at him, the frozen projectile striking him with surprising force.

"You should be more careful!" She laughed as she scurried away.

Satoru was momentarily caught off-guard by her sudden attack. He blinked, stunned for a moment, before a wide grin spread across his face.

"Oh, it's on now," he declared, his eyes twinkling with competitive delight.

He swiftly leaned down, scooping up a handful of snow and shaping it into a compact, aerodynamic ball, before launching it towards her with remarkable precision.

"Agh!" She groaned as the snowball hit its mark, but her laughter quickly followed. "Cheater!"

Satoru chuckled, not holding back a hint of smug satisfaction. "Cheat? Perish the thought, my dear," he declared, his tone dripping with feigned innocence. "I'm merely making use of my natural talents."

He quickly formed another snowball, his movements quick and elegant, and with a flick of his wrist, he released it, aiming straight for her. "I am, after all, the reigning champion of snowball warfare," he boasted.

"Hey! Go easy on me!" She laughed again, retaliating with a well-aimed snowball of her own.

"Easy? What is this, a snowball fight for beginners?" Satoru teased, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. He dodged her projectile with effortless grace, his steps light and fleeting like a shadow.

He swiftly countered with his own snowball, a perfect shot that struck its target, causing her to stumble slightly. "Come on, you can do better than that," he taunted, reveling in the adrenaline of their playful conflict.

"No fair!" She whined as she threw another snowball, this time finally hitting him squarely. "Ha!"

Satoru let out a theatrical groan, pretending to be wounded by her snowball. "Oh, the agony," he clutched at his heart dramatically, a grin betraying his amusement. "I've been hit! What a catastrophic defeat this is."

Not one to be outdone, he swiftly retaliated, launching a flurry of snowballs in her direction with deadly accuracy. "You can't stop the king of snowballs!"

She deftly dodged his barrage of snowballs, her movements agile and nimble. "The rightful queen of snowballs will reclaim her throne!" She chuckled as she threw another well-aimed projectile.

Satoru raised an eyebrow at her declaration, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Oh, is that so? The rightful queen of snowballs, you claim to be?"

He evaded her snowball easily, his laughter echoing through the night. "Well, let's see how rightful you truly are!" He retaliated with a series of perfectly aimed snowballs, each one a testament to his skill and precision.

Some snowballs found their mark, but she quickly retreated behind the shelter of a nearby tree, emerging to launch her own volley of icy projectiles in his direction. "You're cheating!" She accused playfully.

Satoru laughed heartily, his eyes glinting with a competitive spark. "Cheating? Or simply better at this than you?" he teased.

He ducked, weaved, and dodged her snowballs with a casual ease that made it appear as though he were dancing rather than engaging in a fierce snowball battle. "Admit it, darling. I'm just naturally gifted at the art of snowy warfare!"

"Nuh uh!" She laughed, her voice filled with playful defiance as the relentless snowball fight continued.

As the intense battle of wits and wintry wonders wore on, their laughter filled the night air, echoing through the trees. Satoru's competitive spirit was fully ignited, and he wasn't holding back. His movements were swift and precise, each snowball hitting its mark with remarkable accuracy.

"Admit it, admit it!" he called out, his voice teeming with playful taunting. "You can't defeat the Snowball King!"

"The queen will reclaim her rightful place!" She said playfully as she suddenly ran up to him and tackled him, sending them both tumbling into the soft, powdery snow. "The king has fallen!" She laughed triumphantly.

Satoru's eyes widened in surprise as he felt himself falling, his balance thrown off by her unexpected attack. He landed on his back with a thump, sinking slightly into the snow, a look of mock indignation on his face.

"Oh, so that's how it's going to be, queen?" he chuckled, his tone filled with playful defiance. "You really think you can take down the king with a sneak attack like that?"

"Yeah!" She laughed as she straddled him, triumphantly launching a handful of snow directly into his face. "Payback!"

Satoru sputtered and spluttered as the cold, powdery snow landed on his face, momentarily obscuring his vision. But the unexpected sensation of her sitting atop him, coupled with the icy touch of the snow, sent a shiver of exhilaration down his spine.

He blinked, his eyes glinting with a mischievous sparkle as he grinned up at her. "Oh, you think that's payback? That won't do. I have a reputation to uphold, you know."

And in a sudden, swift motion, he flipped them over, now pinning her down to the snow, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face. He took a handful of the icy powder and gently placed it in her mouth before she could react. "How does snow taste, my queen?"

She quickly spat out the snow, coughing and sputtering, but he merely laughed in response as he collapsed down beside her, both of them lying in the snow, their breathing heavy from the exertion of their playful battle.

After a moment of catching their breath, satoru turned his head towards her, taking in the sight of her flushed cheeks, a result of the cold. He couldn't help but find her endearing in that moment.

"I would like to know more about you, miss therapist," Satoru murmured, his curiosity piqued. She was silent for a moment, contemplating his request. "What would you like to know?"

"I don't know... perhaps you could start by telling me why you decided to quit being a sorcerer?" Satoru's expression sobered slightly.

Here is the response with more detailed wording:

She paused for a moment before speaking. "I was previously involved in a perilous mission and perished back then, but I still clung desperately to life. So I made a binding vow, offering my cursed technique in exchange for the preservation of my life, I suppose." She shrugged, as if the matter was trivial. "I'm sorry to hear about your experience," I responded sympathetically.

"It's alright, the practice of sorcery simply was not meant for me. Instead, I have decided to become a therapist, helping people who are part of the jujutsu community, as I understand the daily realities they face as sorcerers."

He hummed thoughtfully as he looked back up at the sky. "That explains why I have never heard of you before," he mused. "Do you have any surviving family members?" he inquired.

"They have all passed away," she replied solemnly.

"I see," he said quietly.

"I apologize for-" he began.

"No need to apologize," she assured him. "I understand your curiosity."

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #not canon #jjk suguru #jjk satoru #geto suguru #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk geto #reader insert #therapy #sad thoughts #depressing shit #artists on tumblr #digital art #art #my post #my artwork #my art <3 #heavy themes #character death #im crying #i hate this #i hate everything #jjk 0 spoilers #gojo x reader #snow

[sonamytrash]

People may relate to and find comfort in a character for a plethora of reasons that they don't necessarily feel comfortable sharing.

Just because you perceive their fondness for a character as shallow is your own opinion. I've seen so much negativity directed at Levi fans and self shippers recently, which is a real shame when for some of us the tag is a safe little space for us to enjoy our fics and headcanons. I see a lot of content I don't like or agree with related to characters I'm a fan of, but I just leave people well alone to enjoy what they enjoy. I don't know, maybe that comes with age and maturity.

People (commonly anons) may assume self shippers only like a character like Levi as an example because we see him as a sex object. Which is entirely false for so many reasons and not true for many of us. I couldn't tell you how much money and time I've invested into the AOT franchise over the past 14 years. I've also never seen so much love and appreciation for a character as I have within the Levi fanbase and particularly from self shippers.

Just because I (or someone) may write 18+ content doesn't mean that's all they associate with a character. Personally, I just enjoy writing it, and I want to create something for others to enjoy and visualise. It's statistically proven that women, for example, may find reading more stimulating compared to visual p×rnography. I started writing for myself as a creative outlet and was thrilled to see people enjoying it. Even if Levi or any character is just an object for someone to sexualise, who cares? He's fictional.

On a personal note, I had a very lonely and abusive childhood. For the longest time, many fandoms and characters have been a source of comfort and escape for me. I very quickly relate to many characters who have experienced hardship and pain. But I've been fortunate enough to come through the other end and build a life for myself. It just so happens that my writing strengths are of a more mature content. But it doesn't take away from my love and appreciation of complex characters. You can't assume you know everything about a person based on this small segment of their lives on a blog or social media platform. Judging people who self ship, especially some of us more placid ones that people want to attack, belittle and slut shame is just getting a bit stale.

Enjoy your characters and your ships, and heck, keep coming at us with your false assumptions because it isn't going to stop us, and you're only making yourselves look petty, cruel, and immature. You don't know a single thing about why people choose the characters that they do to enjoy.

And to all of the self shippers, keep posting your fantastic content. Your fics, your bots, your artwork. Keep enjoying what makes you happy. There's so many more of us who want to be supportive and create safe spaces and communities than there are negative individuals.

#personal rant #levi attack on titan #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi x y/n #captain levi x reader #levi smut #levi ackerman x reader #aot smut #fanfiction smut #self ship #self shipping #self shipper

[east-polaris]

Some thoughts on the last few Magnus Protocol episodes as I’ve just now gotten caught up

SPOILERS!! Obvi

- feels rather cruel to have Alice be shaken up by her experience with The Horrors and worried that she’s going to get hurt by interacting with them and then give her a statement about someone who was shaken up by their experience with The Horrors and then died because of their interaction with them

- also return and voice of Ink5oul! Hey girlie!

- the fact that Madame E’s last video was just titled “help” made me giggle at first but then o thought about it more and. This is a person who uses excessive words on everything she says. Her vocabulary is loaded with filler and slang, so for this video to just have a one word title? Yeah you know shits about to go down

-Gwen girlie I hate to agree with Lena but they are Calle externals for a reason

- I am so curious about what’s going on with Celia. Like did she just wake up on a railroad track like an old times super villain put her there?

- And where does Celia keep disappearing to? She missed her date with Sam, she had to run out on her child, what’s going on?

- The statement in 17 is wild I was so confused at the beginning and I’ll be honest I’m still not sure what was happening there

- I know for a fact that people have pointed this out already but Jon and Martin?? In the therapy waiting room? Little Jon and Martin as a treat?? I hope it was them god knows they need the therapy

- MAGNUS INSTITUTE MENTION 🚨‼️🚨‼️

- this statement reminds me of when Jon said man I wish we had that guy who could take peoples bones out and Melanie said you’ll never guess who were keeping in the basement

- shout out to that housekeeper for getting the hell out of there I respect her for that

- making eye contact while falling down the stairs and breaking all your bones sounds very impressive and also hilarious someone please animate that

- CELIA HELLO??? Is this conformation that she’s from the other dimension??

- haha jmj error

- also WHAT JMJ ERROR

- I like to imagine that a jmj error happens when Jon Martin and Jonah are arguing about which case to give them

- “no Jonah you can’t give her that one that’s way too similar to what she went through she’ll freak out” “exactly we can watch her fear” “no you elitist prick that’s so rude cut it out or I’ll kill you again”

- why is Celia saying she’s seen Colin?

- Teddy is being so suspicious why is he saying everything like he’s looking from side to side shiftily the whole time

- Lena you can’t call a child an it that’s rude

- unless she knows something that we don’t…

- can’t believe they started to open up to each other and it went horribly wrong

- I don’t think we’ve ever heard Sam like that before, like I couldn’t tell who it was for a second

- actually, i couldn’t confidently tell you that we’ve ever heard someone laugh that hard in the entire podcast

- can you really blame him though? “Monsters are working for our government organization and one of them is Barney.” Wild.

-I do hope he apologizes though cause that wasn’t really cool of him

- Also is that our first f-bomb of the season?

- GEORGIE WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

- I think that Georgie might also be from the other dimension. Why else would she be so concerned about the government stalking her? That does beg the question, where is Melanie?

Thank you for listening to me ramble I had a lot on my brain

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp 16 #tmagp 17 #tmagp 18 #alice dyer #samama khalid #tmagp spoilers

[marshmallowprotection]

Any hcs of Saeyoung and his days trained by the agency? I saw some pretty messed up ones and it made me tear up a bit remembering that he was just a KID

Saeyoung's time in the agency is far from joyful. It is the worst experience of his life because he sold his autonomy away for the chance to keep his brother safe, and it was for nothing in the end because Rika and V didn't keep their promise.

There isn't a lot of concrete evidence as to everything he went through during his time in the agency, and due to how much he pointedly jokes about his experiences to cope, it's hard to tell the truth from the lie he put in to make you doubt the validity of what actually happened.

So, if anything, I think it's important to point out that the agency did send him to California to study computer science. He went by a solid alias during his time there, Chilyoung Choi, and this is revealed in the diary Rika wrote for the Special Believer box. He went missing before the graduation ceremony, and the newspaper clipping Rika had was proof the agency wiped all the data of him being there which made a lot of students question if he was even there or not.

It seemed like his existence was a question meant for a scary story online about how someone never existed at your school but you all collectively remember this person for some reason. So, imagine that, Saeyoung is no older than fourteen or fifteen, and he's in America, no choice but to learn English and other languages as fast as possible to acclimate and not be suspicious, and he has to remain out of sight at all times as not to make a lasting impression on others, but be good enough to ace all his classes without fail.

He doesn't even get to enjoy the experience of being in school or making friends in school. Sure, it's implied he did speak to others sometimes, but that... that isn't a fun experience. I think that had to be hard on him, because Saeyoung loves to learn and if his life wasn't cruel, he would stayed in college to learn as much as he could for as long as he could. It was another slap in the face that he couldn't live a free life, but maybe, just maybe, Saeran would be able to experience a life like that.

It's a note of contention between Seven and Vanderwood when Seven slacks off. He procrastinates doing much of his work, and I think he does that for a reason. Most of the work he's doing is dirty work that wealthy people want to pay off the agency to take care of so they don't have to worry about getting their hands filthy. That means the work he's doing in the field and through cyberspace aren’t things he’s morally okay with.

After all, if you're going to pay an agency to take care of something for you, you are not a good person, and even if you are, what you're asking for from the agency is more likely than not illegal and would be considered taboo or unforgivable in the public world 9/10 times. For a long time, I always theorized that Saejoong Choi was amongst those who paid the agency, and hot damn, I was proven correct in the RAE. That goes to show how dirty and underhanded the agency is when it comes to work.

Anything for the bottom dollar.

Anything for greed.

Part of the reason why he avoids doing his work until the last minute has to do with the kind of work he's doing. I feel like if his target is innocent and he doesn't want to do what the agency wants him to do, he puts it off as much as humanly possible and tries to find other ways to take care of the problem first.

If that doesn't work, the only reason why he procrastinates is because he doesn't want to go through with doing what he has to do. In the end, he doesn't have a choice, and neither does Vanderwood, they’ve got guns at their heads and that’s why Vanderwood doesn’t fucking ever mince his words and tells him to get over himself and DO IT. He does it, and he long lost the reasoning to tell himself to think about the morality of the situation.

It'll happen to Saeyoung eventually, too.

But, as much as Vanderwood thinks of saving his own ass first, we all know that he covers for Seven, too. As much as he reasonably can in a situation, anyway, doesn't make Vanderwood the best person, but I do think his soft spot for Seven is important because it shows a good reason why some people soften to Vanderwood in the end. He has a good heart underneath everything, and even if he has methods to do things that most people don't agree with, he still wants to look after his brat.

Seven doesn't want to hurt other people who don't deserve it. But, he doesn't have much of a choice given the fact he sold his life away for his brother. He doesn't regret that choice, but he has to live with it in ways he never imagined when he made that deal as a kid. Ways that haunt him every day, even after the agency is dismantled from every angle imaginable.

Now, I think most people are well aware of the fact that Seven has had missions where he has to dress up to get close to his target. There are a multitude of reasons why an agent would have to dress up, and sure, not all of those reasons are horrible, sometimes you need to wear a tuxedo to get into a party. You have to look the part otherwise you're going to stick out like a sore thumb.

But, I don’t think most people who see him dress up think about the implication of his words. This is a snippet from his Diary that you can look at in the RFA box. Saeyoung has been a member of the agency since he was a teenager, and it doesn't blow past me for a second to think about the fact that they'd have him dress up to fill a role to get their targets to drop their guard long enough for the kill.

Saeyoung dressed up as a maid because there was a "maid fanatic." I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't like the phrasing of those words and I never have. There is some creep at the event he attended and the only way he could get close to this creep was by dressing up as a maid to get this guy to look at him. They used the fact that he's a scrawny teenager / young adult to their benefit, knowing that if he is there playing a helpless damsel, their targets will eat it up.

The amount of sexual harassment and WORSE that Saeyoung has experienced is something I don't think he's even begun to unravel. I do think as well that the agency giving him the opportunity to don a new persona on missions also helped him explore his gender identity and fluidity. He feels comfortable as a woman when he's the one who has a say in his look, and while no Saeyoung fan agrees on what label he's comfortable with, nonbinary, genderfluid, trans, or a cis guy who simply loves to crossdress or do drag—it's an interesting to see how we all view his exploration of gender.

I personally think he's genderfluid, and he doesn’t mind whatever pronouns you use for him, but if you deviate from using he/him as your default, God there’s a look of euphoria on his face the likes of which you have never seen before. “Pretty girl” and “Good boy” hit the same for him but the former really makes his eyes sparkle. My headcanon, of course.

Though, I think sometimes he has a complicated relationship with his identity because his self-discovery happened not because he decided to dress up and learn more about himself, but because the agency told him he had no choice but to dress up. He doesn't want his experience in the agency to taint what he sees when he dresses up, which is why I think he does what he does in the chat room to receive compliments now and again from the other members. He ends up fishing for compliments because he wants them to come from a genuine place, not from some creep he has to get rid of for work. 

I think it'll be better for him once he's out of the agency and he can explore his identity comfortably, and his MC can play a role in helping him feel validated in his sense of self, regardless of how you headcanon him. Because, more than anything, I think he deserves to have an experience that makes him feel good when he dresses up, allowing him to overcome the damage the agency did to him and embracing that he can identify and express himself anyway he wants to and nobody can take that from him. 

Most people are aware of the warehouse phone call. He spent days in a warehouse behind enemy fire and the only consolation he won out of that pain was the Honey Buddha Chips they paid him off with for the "trouble". He spent those days thinking he was going to die within an instant, one wrong move and he's dead, and that's one of the hard traumatic events he's gone through that he hasn't unraveled the way he needs to. 

I cannot even begin to imagine how agonizing it was to sit there, no food or water, knowing that if he made a single sound, they would kill him without remorse. 

He isn't just a desk agent who hacks his way into what they tell him to. If they tell him to go out into the field, he has to and that's that. He doesn't have a say in the matter.

He's mentioned visiting Antarctica and I believe a few island nations before. Again, you can't tell for certain just how much he's joking and how much of the truth he's telling you, so you have to take it with the smallest grain of salt and work out the realism. But, it's clear to me in my mind that he's had to travel to places just to take care of a mission and those missions put his life at risk.

He's trained not to defend himself but to attack first. He doesn't keep guns in his bunker but he knows how to use one. He knows best how to defend himself in a fight, considering that the car he used to take you with him was bullet proof, and that's not something you do in the average life. You don't just get a bulletproof car for no reason. You get it because you're scared for your life.

I make it abundantly clear in most of the posts I write about him to remind people just how paranoid of a person he is. It's not healthy, not in the slightest, but if you understand where he's coming from, it makes sense why he reacts the way he does. Saeyoung is afraid of dying and he’s right to be afraid. Not only does he need to be scared of his father and how fast he could be erased, he has to be afraid of all of the people he has pissed off during his time in the agency. He is not short on enemies.

Plenty of people don't like him and that's one of the reasons why he was afraid to let anybody get close to him. It's not that he's afraid of letting himself be loved, although, that is something he does have to learn how to accept, it's more so he's afraid of people being tortured because they love him. Bad people will exploit your weaknesses and if you own those weaknesses close to your heart where anyone can see it, they will know how to hurt you. 

Honestly, there are a lot of things he went through during his time in the agency, things that I don't think will ever be able to account for because it's going to take him a long time to open up about what happened to him. He always puts the needs of others before himself. He's going to get better about that in the future, but you're going to have to be gentle with him as he begins to unravel all of the things they made him do to survive. He's not out of the water yet but at least he's willing to trust his partner with his heavy heart. 

#mod kait #ask #mystic messenger #anon #mysme #mysticmessenger #mm #saeyoung choi #choi saeyoung #luciel choi #choi luciel #707 #seven #character analysis

[judy--21]

Few questions after binge watch of Bridgerton.

Why are most people mean to Penelope?

I have only just watched the show so I dont know if there is more info in the books but I havent seen a reason for all the hate.

I assume she started writing the gossip column because of no one listening/paying attention to her.

Why did Marina suddenly become cruel to Penelope when she was the only one that seemed to be kind to her?

Also what was wrong with Colin helping her find a husband?

Why was Lord Debling looking for a wife when he was about to leave for 3 years?

Do the men get sex education?

As they seem to know what to do and the women are clueless.

That's all for now.

I was a bit silly really as I watched it to soon now the long wait for pt2. It would be the series that I find most relatable but it is what it is and I will just enjoy the madness with everyone else.

One last thing I love Muma Bridgerton she is brilliant.

#bridgerton #polin #penelope featherington #colin x penelope

[bitethedevil]

Living with The Devil You Know (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 8

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight

Read this fic on AO3 (Link)

Fic Summary: Tav broke their agreement by handing the Crown of Karsus to Mystra instead of Raphael. Not only that, but she also robbed his house and killed his incubus. Raphael is patient and he is determined to get his revenge.

…Tav isn't too bothered. She will figure something out eventually. Until then she just has to find a way to live peacefully with a devil.

Chapter Summary: Tav snaps. Her determination to get out becomes stronger than ever and she decides to change her tactics when it comes to dealing with Raphael.

AN: This turned super horny, idk what to tell ya. Also, I found it really difficult to write Hope because she just acts and speaks in such a specific way that's really hard to capture.

TW: Mentions of Abuse

WARNING: NSFW

Tav sat up in the bed and looked at him. Raphael so blatantly admitting to what he had done had made something snap in her head. It was as she was finally resurfacing back to reality and back to the person she had been before Raphael had gotten his claws in her. For the first time since she got to the House of Hope, she saw him for what he was.

“I thought you said that your plan was to kill my friends and then me,” Tav said with a calmness that surprised even herself.

“And I am a man of my word,” Raphael said, still lying in bed. He was studying her face for a reaction. “I never specified when. I will one day take your soul, which is my property by right, and should your friends decide to pay us a visit I will kill them. Though I have removed any motivation they might have to come knocking on my door, for which you are very welcome, by the way.”

He ran his fingers over the metal cuffs around her wrists.

“So, you are not even trying to lure my friends here. You intend to keep me here…indefinitely...” Tav said.

“Yes,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because I want to,” he answered. “I made it clear from the beginning that you would never leave, did I not? Death would have been all to easy for such a fearless little thing like you. It has been much more fascinating to see you trying deal with all those wonderful conflicting feelings of yours.”

She could see it in his eyes and his widening smile that he was expecting a reaction from her by saying this. He wanted her to get angry, to cry, to be scared. Something in his eyes reminded her of her father. The way he would look at her after he had beat her or said something cruel to her to get a reaction out of her during her childhood. That gleeful anticipation as they waited for her to either explode or break.

She looked at him and was quiet for a moment. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears out of anger, but her expression remained unreadable.

Then a smile spread across her face, and she leaned forward to brush a hand over his hair. She kissed him sweetly on the lips and he froze.

She wished that she could bottle up the look of genuine confusion she saw on his face.

She did not say anything. She just laid back down on the bed beside him. She pulled his arm around herself and got comfortable.

Raphael had made a misstep in his eagerness to piss her off: he had admitted that it was not his plan to kill her anytime soon.

Tav was not going to let herself be a passive player in his little game anymore. She would play and she would win. Not by giving him the resistance that he seemed to be thriving on, but by giving him exactly what he wanted.

He had told her the first day they met that he liked when people put up a fight. She would not. She would shower him with affection, heed his every whim, be his adoring little mouse, and when she finally found that damn hammer, she would watch him burn, just as she had watched her father do all those years ago.

As always, he was gone when she woke up. She got dressed. Instead of searching for the least provocative piece of clothing she could find as she usually would have, she grabbed a rather revealing dress from the wardrobe.

It was a tight-fitting dress with a plunging neckline in a burnt orange color that complimented her red hair. There was a matching gold choker with yellow stones that she also put on.

It looked completely foreign on her who had mostly dressed in thick robes for the majority of her life. It felt more like a costume, she thought as she looked herself in the mirror. Then again, she was definitely playing a part with what she had planned, so perhaps it was fitting.

She left the boudoir. She reached the entrance to the main area where she usually ate her breakfast when she stopped in her tracks and her eyes widened.

With her back turned to Tav, she was looking out over the balcony: it was Hope.

Hope! How could she had forgotten Hope? Tav felt terrible but she had not as much as given a thought to the odd Dwarven woman she had met back when she had broken into Raphael’s home. Tav had even promised to free her, she remembered with a knot in her stomach.

It had been too risky to free her. She even remembered selfishly thinking to herself that it was not her problem before they left. What Raphael did in his privacy was not her business. Neither her nor her companions ever spoke about her after they had left.

How fitting that Tav herself should end up in the very same position as her. She really did deserve it in a way, she thought to herself. She completely understood why Hope had stayed away from her during her time there. She had every right to hate her.

“Hope…?” Tav called out softly.

The projection of Hope turned around and a wide cheery smile spread across her face.

“There you areee! And without my sister or his new one at your heels!” she said in a cheerful tone. “He has barely had time to torture me since you got here, you know? Maybe if he leaves me long enough, I’ll be in one piece for the first time in years!”

The sad and pitying look in Tav’s eyes strongly contrasted Hope’s cheerful demeanor.

“What is it? Are you hurt?” Hope asked, looking her up and down. “Hurt, but you still look like you are in one piece…Hm…Oh! Oh! Did he drown you? Suffocate you? Was it the Omuan dreamcatcher? Oh, he loves that one.”

“I’m fine, Hope…” Tav said quietly as she tried to hold back the ocean of emotions that was building up inside herself by seeing Hope again.

She could not even begin to imagine the things Hope had endured. Her heart had sunk to the floor. Who knows how long Hope had resisted Raphael’s persistence? And Tav had brushed her off back then instead of saving her while she still had a chance…

“Oooh, no one’s fine here for long,” Hope said with the same manic intensity. “He prods and pokes and slices and cuts and then he puts you back together to do it all over again!”

Tav took a deep breath. The guilt she was feeling was crushing her.

“I’m so sorry, Hope,” Tav managed to say. “For not saving you back then…”

Hope went quiet for a moment.

“And I’m sorry that you are here…” Hope said in a sad tone, though it quickly turned hopeful again. “But…your friends will come with the hammer and save you! Maybe they will smash my chains as well. Oh, please don’t leave me here after you kill him…”

Tav sighed. She almost did not have the heart to tell her.

“My friends can’t get to it right now…Raphael took it back,” Tav said in a defeated voice. “But I’m determined to find out where he is hiding it. When I do, I will free both of us.”

Hope's smile returned even bigger than before.

“This is great news!” Hope said. “It means it’s here. It will be, it has to be, it is! It’s hidden, but it’s here.”

Tav’s brow furrowed.

“How are you so sure?” she asked.

“It’s what he does…” Hope said, still smiling but with a sad tone in her voice again. “He dangles things right in front of your nose. Freedom, riches, everything you could ever want! Always so close that you can smell it and always just out of reach.”

The projection of Hope froze after they both heard a noise. A servant was walking down the corridor towards them.

“Oh! I have to go,” Hope whispered.

“No, wait—” Tav said, but Hope had already disappeared.

Tav was looking at the spot where she had just stood. If Hope was right, there was a chance that she could find the Orphic Hammer and escape on her own without the help of her friends, which would be ideal.

Her meeting with Hope reaffirmed her plan. Resisting him was not the way to go. Hope was the living example of that. Perhaps, there was a chance that he would even grow bored with her if she simply gave him what he wanted.

She would keep the peace. She would keep him happy and distracted for as long as it would take her to figure out how to escape and then she would strike.

She had been scouring the parts of the house that she could access without servants or debtors watching her for where Raphael might be hiding the hammer. There were a couple of options for where it could be that she knew of: the archive or the vault.

It was obviously not on display in the archive, but she knew that there were more to the archive than what met the eye. She had heard that more artifacts were hidden in the bowels of the house underneath the archive. How she would access it or even find the entrance, she was not sure, but perhaps Hope knew if she could find her again.

Then there was the vault. Her and Gale had tried to break into it back when they had broken into his house, but without any luck. The lock was heavily protected with magic, but if she could get to it without any debtors or servants watching, she might be able to crack it with enough time on her hands.

She had given up for the day, but at least she now had some leads as to where to look. She knew that it would not be long until Raphael arrived home again, so she sat down in the archive to read and prepare herself for her role as his adoring prisoner.

For once he sought out her and not the other way around. He entered the archive and smiled when he saw her. He was in human form. She looked up from her book and smiled back warmly, without showing as much as a trace of bitterness in her expression. She saw him narrow his eyes at that, but his smile did not falter.

It was clear that he was still waiting for a reaction. For her to either explode or break down crying. It was delicious to see him treading so carefully, because he was not sure what to do next. She was not following the script that he had so carefully planned out for her, and she could see that underneath his smile, there was a tinge of frustration over it.

“Evening,” Tav said breaking the silence.

He took a seat in the sofa opposite from where she was sitting.

“Good evening,” he said back, still studying her face for a reaction.

Tav’s smile widened as she noticed how he had decided to sit away from her. She closed the book she was reading and put it on the table before getting up from her seat. She walked over to where he was sitting at a leisurely pace. He sat in silence as his eyes followed her every step.

He then seemed to notice she was wearing much more revealing clothing than she usually did. His eyes were devouring her exposed skin for a moment before they settled back on her face.

She sat down right beside him on the sofa. She leaned forward to place a quick kiss on his cheek that seemed as casual as if she had done it a hundred times before. His body tensed but he did not move away from her.

“How was your day?” she asked with a bright smile.

She could see that there was a bit of amusement to his smile now. It was clear that he was not quite sure what was happening, but he knew that she was up to something.

“Slightly tedious,” he answered casually. His eyes drifted down to her dress and lingered on her cleavage for a moment. “You look even lovelier than usual. The dress suits you…as does that charming smile of yours. You really should smile more, my dear.”

Tav’s eye twitched in annoyance at his last comment, but she quickly hid it. Though not quickly enough that Raphael did not notice it, and she could see the satisfaction in his smile at his comment managing to get a reaction from her, albeit a small one.  

“Thank you. That’s sweet of you to notice,” she said instead of the many things she wanted to say to that comment. “It’s difficult to smile when I miss you so much all the time.”

“Is that so?” he purred and snaked his arm around her waist to pull her closer.

She was not fooling him, and she could see it in his face, though that did not stop him from seeing how far he could push her in the little game they were playing.

“Mhm” she affirmed and leaned more against him.

“Hm,” he hummed and kissed the side of her head before murmuring into her ear: “Nothing ruins a good play quite like actors overplaying their parts, dear.”

She smiled and turned her head towards him. Her nose was almost touching his and she was looking directly into his brown eyes.

“You’re one to talk,” she said before kissing him.

He kissed her back and tightened his grip around her waist. He put his other arm under her leg and lifted her to sit on his lap.

He was in control again and Tav was not having it. She was done with simply letting him do what he wanted to her and be a passive participant like she always was with him.

She snaked her arm down between them and felt his hardening erection. He made a low groan in response and his tongue invaded her mouth. Both of his hands were around her, kneading her ass as she rubbed him through his pants. It did not take long before she could feel that he was fully hard.  

She tried to discreetly unbutton his pants while they were kissing, but one of his hands slid up her back and into her hair. He yanked her head back.

“What is it that you are trying to achieve with all of this?” he asked, looking into her eyes. Though his question had no doubt been meant to sound threatening, his tone and dilated pupils revealed just how aroused he was.

Tav smiled. Oh, she was having fun with this. It was immensely satisfying for her to finally see him a little rattled and confused. She traced the outline of his cock through his pants.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked.

Raphael growled in a way that sounded simultaneously aroused and frustrated, as she touched him. He yanked her head back further, so her neck was exposed to him. He left a kiss and a gentle bite just above the choker she was wearing, before letting go of her hair.

“Off,” he commanded. He gave her a firm but not painful slap on her ass and then gestured for her to get off his lap so they could go to the bedroom.

 

To her surprise he indulged her and let her take the lead, at least for the moment it seemed. He had always been on top of her, but now she was on top of him, kissing her way down his body. She heard his breathing become heavier and heavier the closer she came to the part of him that was aching for her.

The moment her kisses and bites down his stomach reached to just above his cock, she heard his breath hitch slightly at the sensation. She saw his cock twitch in anticipation. It was her first time seeing it so up close. Even in his human form it was impressive in both length and girth.

She teased him by leaving sloppy kisses and small licks up and down his shaft, all while keeping eye contact with him. She could see that the teasing was getting to him. His body was aching for her, and he seemed to be on the verge of losing control.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked impatiently, referring to her endless teasing. She could hear that he was getting impatient, but it was too delicious to have him in the palm of her hand like that for her to stop.

“Mhm,” she affirmed and ran her lips over his shaft, earning her a groan.

She felt his hand tangle in her hair. He was not taking control over her movements yet, but it was a clear warning that he would if she kept going.

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” she said.

She teased the head of his cock with her tongue. It made him instinctively tighten his grip on her hair and groan deeply.

“Is that so?” he said. “So is humility, I hear.”

With that he pushed her head down, signaling that he was done waiting. He inhaled sharply as she took him fully in her mouth. When she began moving her head up and down on her own, his grip on her hair loosened and he let her do it at her own pace.

It did not take long before she managed to push him over the edge. She dug her nails into his thighs as he came in her mouth. He held her hair in a grip that told her that he expected her to swallow. His seed was almost burning in her mouth, but she forced herself to swallow.

He was breathless. He loosened his grip and ran his fingers through her hair instead.

“Such a good little mouse,” he said condescendingly, almost as if to a pet, which somehow managed to both piss her off and turn her on at the same time. “Come here.”

He gestured for her to kiss him. As she did, she wondered exactly how far he would let her take her little game. She felt daring. She wondered, not for the first time, how it would be to sit on that smug face of his and shut him up.

She moved further up his chest, and he must have guessed her intentions, because he smirked and grabbed her. He pushed her backwards, so she landed on her back. He pinned her to the mattress and then he started kissing his way down her body, the same way she had done with him.

“Control freak,” she muttered under her breath. She received a bite on her stomach for that comment.

Raphael was twice the tease that she had been. When he finally reached her now dripping core, he started teasing her with his tongue in an excruciatingly slow pace. She bucked her hips against his mouth, which only made him grab around her thighs to hold her down.

“Tut-tut. Patience is a virtue, dearest,” he said repeating her own words.

“You’re—” she interrupted herself with a moan as Raphael lightly ran the tip of his tongue over her clit. “You’re hilarious…”

So much for staying in control and not being a passive participant. Raphael was being relentless with his teasing, to the point where she was becoming a moaning and dripping mess under him. It went on for a long time and it was pure torture.

“Perhaps I would be able to find a shred of sympathy for you, if you begged nicely,” he suddenly said. She could feel him smile against her inner thigh, as he kissed and nibbled at the skin there.

Tav had to remind herself of the role she was currently playing. She was supposed to indulge him in what he wanted instead of resisting.

“Please…” she said.

“Oh, come now, dear,” Raphael said and looked up at her with a look that was downright sinful. He inserted a single finger into her, making her grasp the sheets. “Surely you can do better than that.”

He curled his finger inside her.

“Please, Raphael,” she moaned. She almost cringed at how pathetic and desperate she sounded.

“Much better,” he said and spread her legs slightly more.

He transformed into his devil form without warning, making her jump slightly in surprise. She seemed a bit confused with why he would suddenly do so, until he lowered his head between her legs.

“Mind the horns…” he said before he started eating her out.

He had to hold her legs open, so that she would not instinctively close them and hurt herself on his horns because of the sensation she felt between her legs. She suddenly understood why she had changed into that form: his tongue was not only longer but it was also forked.

He was looking up at her through the whole thing. He was making a low rumbling noise in his chest that almost sounded like a deep purring sound as he hungrily ate her out. His long tongue was inside her, and it almost sent her over the edge immediately.

She came harder than she ever had before, and it took her by complete surprise. She was grasping the sheets and on the verge of screaming as her climax washed over her. She closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath as it passed. Her legs were shaking, and she could hear Raphael chuckle as he was looking at the state of her.

Fuck him for being able to make her feel like that, Tav thought.

He leaned over her and kissed her. His long tongue was almost in her throat, and she could taste herself on his tongue. It was passionate, hot, and intoxicating. When he let go of the kiss, his gaze went from her lips to her eyes.

She was looking directly into his burning orange eyes when he suddenly changed back into his human form. He kissed her again, but this time it felt sweeter and more loving. His hand was caressing her face gently.

He left sweet kisses down her jaw and neck before laying his head on her chest. An all too vulnerable gesture that made her freeze.

She was not quite sure how to react.

She put her hand on his head with the gentleness of someone daring to touch an animal that might bite them. When he did not move or make a snarky comment at the gesture, she started slowly massaging his scalp with her fingers.

He made a low rumbling noise that almost sounded like a purr. He fell asleep on her chest not long after. Tav could not sleep. His arm was around her waist and his head was resting over her heart as he began snoring softly. She looked down at him. This man who was bigger than her and who was snuggling up to her in a way that seemed completely out of character for someone like him.

There he was, the devil that rips people apart simply to put them back together and start all over again, being infuriatingly human and vulnerable in her arms.

He was doing it on purpose, the bastard, Tav thought. He knew that she was playing games with him and now he was doing the same to her just to assert control over the situation.

She would not be fooled by him again, but she would play along.

#raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #raphael fanfic #baldur's gate 3

[mangora]

Me: So yeah the thing about the PI girls for me is how they view themselves and treat other people because like, Sky sees herself as a hero and believes that everyone deserves help or a second chance, which becomes actively harmful whenever she has to battle herself about what’s best for her/her team vs what’s best for the feelings of others, often resulting in failure (ex: her refusing to call out teammates like Leonard as team leader) or her own feelings of anger/guilt (ex: the entire Dave situation); meanwhile Ella is truly kind through and through because she sees herself as an innocent fairy tale princess and the level of kindness is born from the naivety and idealism accompanying that label ended up being her downfall (ex: refused to see the bad in Sugar and insisted on being friends even when Sugar clearly hated her); and of course Sammy is kind and wants to help people (ex: volunteers to go berry picking), but has a massively skewed view of confrontation due to her low self esteem and her image of herself as a helpless or worthless proxy to her sister, to the point that she won’t confront people until she blows up in the most inopportune moments; and then Jasmine wants the best for people but believes that they must make this happen themselves (ex: Sammy) and she also believes that individual healing/kindness is second to working together as a team towards a collective goal (ex: again, in the case of the Sammy/Amy situation) because she sees herself as a leader and a survivor above anything else and expects other people to feel the same, which is why it stung extra hard when Shawn, who she likes, worked against her instead of with her for a collective good, and why it was extra impactful to her when he sacrificed his win to save her when they weren’t working together; and then Sugar sees herself both as a bit of a comedian and as a queen who is above other people, and will make fun of people or manipulate them for her own gain or entertainment, but is still willing to work with others and will still treat them as friends (ex: Sky, Leonard) when a goal is within close reach, with the exception of people she believes are out to hurt her (ex: Ella); and then Scarlett sees herself as a villain but has sought out friends before (ex: Max) and can be incredibly helpful in a team and will only turn to cruelty when people have lost her trust (ex: Topher, Max), or when she feels she’s finally in total power with nothing to lose by hurting others (ex: Scarlett Fever), suggesting she likes some people and would be willing to align with or befriend someone who shares her goals but ultimately sees people as resources, perhaps because the people around her never showed an initiative to work with her as friends past the merge as they did when they worked on a team together (see: Jasmine); and finally Amy is the worst of them as she sees herself as the best of the best in a similar way to Sugar (though Sugar will do the work for this title, while Amy feels entitled to it), and she doesn’t like or respect anyone, and is actively cruel to people for little or no reason even when they can help her, though she still wants their praise and adoration despite this. All of the PI girls are victims of circumstance clearly but they’re also all self-fulfilling prophecies in their own ways. Their adherence to their own self image is both what caused them to clash and what caused them to bond. In the end Jasmine and Sky are the only ones who broke out of their moulds which is why they succeeded (Jasmine got part of Shawn’s reward in his ending and Sky got the full million in her’s). Yuri could’ve saved all of them faster though.

Woman Taking My Order At Unspecified Drive Thru Eatery:

#alex’s td rambles #I haven’t watched PI in like a year or two but the PI girls are ALWAYS on my mind

[mershellscape]

— minerva mcgonagall moodboard + headcanons

— summary bc minerva ROCKS i love her (also outing myself as a mcgonagall x pomfrey shipper LMFAOOO) — a/n i said i was jus gonna do hcs 🫣 but i couldn't help but do a moodboard — taglist @picklerab23 @lovelorngirl @that-random-poseidon-child @nuncscioquidsitamor-13 (sorry if any of you didn't want to be tagged, i just tagged ppl who seemed interested 😓)

HEADCANONS UNDER CUT

ᥫ᭡. her father fought in ww2, and both she and her mother took care of him when he was back, as he struggled with ptsd

ᥫ᭡. she loved growing up in a muggle village, partly bc she felt special and smart, but also bc it made her have a closer relationship with her father

ᥫ᭡. when she got to hogwarts, the sorting hat took a long time to put her in a house, before she swore at it in her head and it screeched “GRYFFINDOR”

ᥫ᭡. sidenote: minnie def uses muggle swear words ik my girl is not saying "merlin's saggy ballsack" at every inconvenience

ᥫ᭡. she became popular pretty quickly, but she only had one real friend — poppy pomfrey

ᥫ᭡. they went EVERYWHERE together

ᥫ᭡. they were the big sisters of gryffindor house, even of hogwarts in general

ᥫ᭡. minnie got top grades in all her classes, so the only thing that offered a challenge to her was quidditch

ᥫ᭡. she'd read about in some books, but she had never played it before, so she tried out her second year, but failed to get in

ᥫ᭡. but over the summer she practiced, and got in her third year

ᥫ᭡. a lot of people were cruel to her, since she was a girl, which kept getting in her head and worsened her performance

ᥫ᭡. on one match, the bullying got so bad she didn't show her face the whole rest of weekend — even though they ended up winning

ᥫ᭡. poppy found out why and she hexed the bullies, giving them really bad nosebleeds

ᥫ᭡. minnie got back to playing quidditch, and was better than ever

ᥫ᭡. sidenote: everytime minnie got hurt in a match, she'd get taken care of by poppy (who volunteered at the hospital wing) and asjsksja so hurt comfort 😭 i love them

ᥫ᭡. in her fourth year, she dated a fellow chaser for a few months, but she was never really invested

ᥫ᭡. meanwhile, she couldn't help but feel a little jealous when poppy got in a relationship herself

ᥫ᭡. she broke up with her boyfriend on a hogsmeade weekend and he got mad and tried to hit her but she hexed him and left him rolling around in the snow in pain

ᥫ᭡. (because of this, she got called to the headmaster's office, and was put in detention, tho she negotiated it to only be once rather than a whole week)

ᥫ᭡. because of her experience taking care of her father, she was one of the most compassionate students, and eventually teachers, towards the younger ones who struggled with mental health

ᥫ᭡. she and poppy, already popular for their beauty and personalities, became known for their genuine kindness

ᥫ᭡. she and poppy became prefects at the same time, furthering their reputation as the gryffindor mothers

ᥫ᭡. she passed her o.w.l.s with flying colors, etc. etc.

ᥫ᭡. she spent the whole summer before her sixth year with poppy, eating ice cream, taking the train to edinburgh to go to the museums and “experience some culture”

ᥫ᭡. they def “practiced kissing” on each other, even though they'd both already had their first kisses

ᥫ᭡. the next year, minnie worked on becoming an animagus, under the supervision of dumbledore

ᥫ᭡. she became an animagus in a little over seven months, due to a few failed attempts, but!!! she got their in the end bc of course she did she's mcgonagall

ᥫ᭡. from that point forward she was constantly turning into her cat form, bc she loved yowling at her fellow students when they pissed her off

ᥫ᭡. of course she had to keep the fact that she was an animagus a secret, even tho she did it legally

ᥫ᭡. sixth and seventh year she got a lot of awards for transfiguration, but now she was starting to worry about where she would go in her career

ᥫ᭡. most of her teachers insisted she take up a teaching position at hogwarts but she was like “no😭😭 i hate kids”

ᥫ᭡. after graduation, she got a job at a magazine in london, where she had a column about transfiguration. she interviewed famous people, talked about how transfiguration and other forms of magic can be mixed, etc.

ᥫ᭡. but she wasn't happy

ᥫ᭡. at this point, she was penpals w poppy, who was working back at hogwarts

ᥫ᭡. poppy filled her in on the drama, and when minnie found out dumbledore was leaving his position as transfiguration professor to be headmaster, she rushed to apply

ᥫ᭡. obviously, she was given the job

— now for some headcanons from when she was a professor !

ᥫ᭡. one time minnie got in a fight with another animal in her animagus form and she showed up to class the next day with nicks in her ear and a limp

ᥫ᭡. causing a school-wide rumor that she was secretly in a gang (she doesn't deny it)

ᥫ᭡. minnie in animagus form always accompanied remus on the full moon, to make sure he never hurt himself too badly

ᥫ᭡. mcgonagall def picked favorites, but they had to earn it. some of her notable favorites: molly weasley, bill weasley, regulus black, remus lupin, andromeda black, mary macdonald, hermione granger, luna lovegood, neville longbottom, harry potter, fred & george weasley, and lee jordan (the quidditch commentator)

that's all i can think of right now, feel free to add on! <3

#ceri talks ₊˚ෆ #ramblinandwritin ੈ♡₊˚ #minerva mcgonagall #professor mcgonagall #minnie mcgonagall #hp marauders #marauders era #marauders #harry potter series #harry potter #harry potter hc #harry potter headcanon #marauders hc #marauders headcanon #hp headcanon #hp #hogwarts #pre marauders era